© Sergey Yeliseev, 2013.

© Sergey Yeliseev, 2013.

Let’s scrap the whole thing.

The things we’ve been doing haven’t been working. Keeping us alive, yes. But just barely. We repeat it over and over again. Every winter looks the same and every spring gets harder to distinguish from the the previous season’s frost. After we built our lives upon tragedies and the assumption that nothing was ever going to actually get better—just varying degrees of less unpleasant—where could we possibly go? There was nothing left to say about it. Constantly trying to just keep our heads above water.

But I’m ready to find the shore now.

I don’t want to sit around waiting for the last threads to snap and for everything I always assumed would happen to finally transpire. It’s time to grab onto the the little pieces of belief I’ve managed to stuff away. The ones that whisper it doesn’t have to be that way.

There are little seeds that are released in response to wildfire. Serotiny. I want to plant them deep in the fertile ash of all those things that haven’t worked, that hurt more than helped, that we always figured were our only options, and I want to make sure they grow. Give my full attention to this new idea that we can do this all differently.

From now on I’ll be writing at I hope you’ll join me.