Consistency. The characteristic of being predictably present, like the Sun rising every morning. It may not shine as brightly everyday but nonetheless we know it is there. It is constant. Those who live in arid lands would tell you that the Sun is relentless, utterly non-remorseful for yesterday’s scourging of the land, and promises a continued onslaught tomorrow. Constant. Since the beginning of time, we have harnessed the Sun, worshipped the Sun, loathed the Sun, bathed in it, wrote stories about it, established our days and nights around its path and discovered that life would cease on planet earth without it. And yet it shines on regardless of our understanding or use of it, not a degree hotter, not one bit brighter. (Unless I stand corrected by an astronomer). People are not constant (nor consistent for that matter), and perhaps we are not meant to be, but we can make comparisons of the parts of our lives we consider to be consistent (or constant) with things, like the Sun, that truly are. Consistent things are; predictably present, relentless, utterly non-remorseful for yesterday’s scourging and promising a continued onslaught tomorrow. Constant. Sound like you?