Most mornings, after I step through the front doors of the school I lead, I begin to walk. Not with any dramatic purpose, just a quiet loop through the building before the day gathers its momentum. I pass the chipped tile by the front office, the one that catches the edge of your shoe if you’re not paying attention. The custodian is already making a second sweep of the cafeteria. A bulletin board outside Room 108 features snapshots of faculty and students who have birthdays this month. Some are smiling wide, others clearly caught off guard. The laminated heading reads This Month We Celebrate You, and a few of the photos are slightly crooked. I haven't asked anyone to straighten them. There’s something perfect about the way they lean.

Like monks of old, I walk the halls, not to get anywhere, but to stay close to what matters.