Yoani Sanchez, Huffington Post

On my balcony there is a yagruma tree. Leaves in the shape of hands with rounded fingers, white underneath and green above. However, its sympathetic shape and its peculiarity in growing in a pot more than 50 yards above the ground are not what I like about it. Rather it is its capacity to adapt. It has understood for years that the concrete ceiling won't allow it to grow straight, and so it leans outward, hanging its boughs over the wall fourteen stories up. After the cat damaged the trunk sharpening its nails it developed scars around a thicker bark, more protective. Before every obstacle it meets it finds a way to avoid it; before every attack a mechanism to protect itself.

Our daily lives are filled with lessons like that of the "potted Yagruma." For example, in my neighborhood the young people have configured numerous wireless networks to exchange programs, games and files. Like the balcony plant, they don't want to shape themselves according to the limits placed on them by reality, among which are the absurd restrictions on free access to the Internet.