Hints are the bulk of available information.
Most communication isn’t spoken; it’s just floating around us. Most direction isn’t given; it’s simply waiting to be noticed. Most of what we need to know isn’t taught; our knowledge is gleaned from what we’re exposed to. Hints are why we do so much of what we do and comprehend so much of what we see.
Hints provide the education we don’t get from school.
We are raised by the hints of world, by the millions of details that knit themselves into the architecture of truth and fact. Hints are to be taken, to be sought after, and to be treasured. Hints can help us figure out the subjects that test us throughout our lives.
Hints tell you what people can’t or won’t.
People can be too polite, too manipulative, too busy—too whatever—to always tell you what you need to know. Hints have no such troubles. Hints are where words aren’t. Hints are in the blanks spaces between conversations and interactions. Hints are harsh facts disguised as quiet subtly. Look for them in what isn’t told to your face.
Hints tell you what other people haven’t realized yet.
Hints reveal what’s next before it happens. They draw shapes out of amorphous fogs. Hints point the way toward the future. They’re what researchers seek and what poets assemble. Hints are insider information for the future.
Hints can guide you when you’re alone.
When you’re unsure of the universe, listen to it. Hints can speak through media of all kinds, through nature, through the sensations your body filter through your brain. Hints are the guideposts you need when uncertainty gets in the way.
Hints are free for the taking.
Hints don’t come with student loans or obligations. Hints aren’t hidden behind paywalls. Hints fill the world from edge to edge, an equal opportunity resource. The only cost that hints carry is the cost of them going untaken.
Hints can show us who we are.
What we notice, what we feel pulled toward, what we are repulsed by, what we respond to—the hints we take reflect the people we are. By noticing what we notice, we can better understand (and even adjust, if we want) ourselves.
Hints can keep us safe.
Danger isn’t always loud and bright. It can be insidiously subtle. When we take the hints that danger offers, we can find ourselves in safer places. The more, small warnings we heed, the fewer pains we’ll endure.
Hints can open the world.
Hints are our first glimpse of possibility. They are the first steps on winding journeys. They point us toward ideas and activities beyond the horizon of our ruts and routines. Hints are gateways to everything.
Hints are connective tissues.
Hints can link disparate parts of our lives together. They can add depth and texture to the lives we live. A single hint can make an entire year make sense. Hints, when taken, are medicines that help us grow.