I’ve been stuck lately. Sickness and chronic pain and anxiety and assorted bullshit. But today I felt human. Enough to take a shower and leave the house and go write in this tumble-down shack I love…where I can feel like I’ve left the house without actually leaving a house.
There’s something about this broken building that speaks. It’s filled with wasp nests and rusty nails but it’s still beautiful and unique. Every time I visit it there’s another hole in the floor and the walls lean a bit more. The wind sings strange songs through the walls and the rain and sun come inside, creating glorious damage and fascinating scars. It’s dangerously flammable and more than slightly unstable but it still works. Much like me. And I always find myself (and leave myself) in it.
Don’t be fooled. It may look like it’s falling apart but it’s so much stronger than you think.
So am I.
So are you.