Rearrange

The fantasy of starting a life anew overlooks the reality that we can really only build new lives with pieces of our old ones. With each move we bring all the things that made the previous home feel as such. Bruises and scratches and losses ensue. Days and weeks and months are spent rearranging the new place to feel something like the old, the same paint on a new canvas.

The real fantasy of transformation is one only realized subtly and slowly. It’s found in the gradual shifting of one’s orientation to the world, from one of defense to one of curiosity.

I have no idea if this is true. But as I write amongst all my earthly possessions strewn about, I couldn’t help but wonder.