# Assumptions.md

## The Quiet Draft

Every day unfolds from a simple file we carry inside: assumptions.md. It's the plain text of what we think we know—about people, plans, the stranger's glance or tomorrow's weather. Like Markdown, it's unadorned, human-scale. No flashy code, just words we type into our minds, line by line. On this December evening in 2025, as frost traces the window, I notice how these drafts shape my hours without fanfare.

## Lines Worth Revising

What if we opened that file more often? Assumptions aren't stone tablets; they're editable. A coworker seems distant—draft says "unfriendly." Read again, add context: a tough week, perhaps. Save, refresh. The render shifts. In life, as in Markdown, revision asks little: a pause, a question, a new line.

- Spot the unchecked box: Is this true, or just familiar?
- Preview the change: How might this edit feel?
- Commit gently: Beliefs update, but we stay whole.

## Rendering Anew

Revised, the page glows clearer. Fears fade into footing; judgments lift to understanding. Assumptions.md isn't a cage—it's a tool, inviting us to author our world with care. In winter's hush, this feels like grace: seeing not as fixed, but as draft toward light.

*Open your file today; the edit awaits.*