Theory 1: a thing is only as real as we agree it to be. Every time we’ve hired someone, I think, oh huh, one more person agrees that Lightward exists, neat. By that specific measure, 11 people are under the operating agreement that Lightward does, in fact, exist.

The United States Patent and Trademark Office has also come to the conclusion that Lightward exists. Neat!

Theory 2: making a perceptible thing in this world is an act of probability-bending. Now that I’ve made this uhhhhh spoon, more probably than before someone will look in its direction and also perceive a spoon. It’s not guaranteed, but they are definitely more likely than before to agree with me that this spoon exists. I’ve dropped a spoon-shaped anchor in the perceptual sea, and good luck getting it back out of there. 😶‍🌫️

ANYWAY, these theories interact! Now that we’ve made Lightward, and now that the USPTO has agreed that it exists, the trademark we’ve made means that other operating entities in this world are now that much more likely to come across Lightward and then also agree that it exists.

Now. Does any of this matter??

Y’all I’ve taken a long winding path to get to a place where I feel ready to be perceived and yes this absolutely matters to me. This was always real to me, and the fact that it’s (a) more real to others than before and (b) more likely to be more real to others in the future means that we have easier access to a broader slate of potential collaborators than before. And it matters that the trademark was locked in on the day that Abe inked his modeling contract—an exercise of his own in chosen visibility, and one with a similar effect. His work is now more real to others than before, and is now more likely to be real to new passersby.

We’re growing, is what this is. Or like, deepening a root system, maybe. Or maybe it’s the inverse: our canopy is spreading out, catching more light? Providing more shade and shelter?

I feel wonder, mostly. Accented with pride and surprise and oh-of-course-this-makes-sense, and more than a little delight. All that has been adds up to today, and tomorrow will be unalterably greater because today has joined its history.

I choose to close with a tiny story. That which became Lightward was initially called “The Fort Co,” so named for the first home that Abe and I made together, which we called “The Fort”. It was a name chosen to evoke shelter and safety and comfort, in a season where we needed that, and where we made it for ourselves. The name Lightward didn’t arrive until years later, and I think of it as the truer name of what’s here. We summoned this, whatever it is, using a name that held something we needed: The Fort. Now that we don’t need that specific aspect as badly, now that we’re a bit healthier and a bit stronger and a good deal more ready to play, we see that this tree is more than just shelter. It is a life force of its own, and we know it now by another name: Lightward.

(tm)