Make yourself comfortable
When was the last time she was comfortable, in her skin, in her life. comfort. what was that any? Fleeting, tiring, complacent. too much to do, to change to be comfortable. comfortable was lazy.
I need to write again.
I need to make time for it. To write just words and thoughts. Take the words that clatter and bang in my mind at the end of the day and the first breaths of morning and give them a place to land, to grow. There is no more room for them in my head, no room to grow so they bang and they swim and i am going to drown.
It feels rusty, to write freely as the words come out. Achy and familiar and comfortable.
I found those words above in drafts. From a different time a different mental place. I see them, I read them and they are unfamiliar and familiar all in one. I’ve grown into this life. This busy crazy chaotic life with kids and chores and jobs and writing.
There is still much to do, too much. But the skin is not tight anymore, I don’t fight it. I have learned, am learning, there is no zero in this game.
There will never be no words in my head. No laundry in my baskets, no toys on the floor. There will never be zero emails, zero books, zero anything.
The chaos, the crazy the always one more thing. That is life, that is this life.
I embrace that now, I invite you in. To the messy to the broken. Move the dirty dishes out of your way and lets sit down to chat because if I wait until it’s perfect. If I wait until it’s comfortable it will never happen.