it can be hard to immerse ourselves in our
regular lives. We stumble. We stare. We
contemplate our worth at 2PM on a random Tuesday.
It can take all our strength to find normalcy. So we cling
to rituals, no matter how mundane. I clean ~ vacuum every corner,
throw things away, try to clear space for the words that haven’t
I rearrange things I have grown tired of looking at. Hoping a painting
or photograph will speak to me from some new place, shed perspective on
what they’ve seen within these walls.
But you begin to realize that days . . . weeks have passed and
the time has come to push yourself ~ harder than you ever
have before. You must fight this numbness like the enemy it is.
Because there is an ocean inside you, desperate to get out,
suffocating the joy that comes from the simple things. The things that
once mattered so much. The things you would long for, if you could.
So today I cleaned my palette. Spread some new paint onto paper.
Nothing particularly beautiful or striking, but important, nonetheless.
Because this is my first step on the way out of this place that
limits the depths of who I will become. I am going through
the motions, even if I don’t feel it yet. Because in my heart,
I know, I will. I just need to be patient as I get there.