I was responding to an e-mail from a friend in which I was attempting to give words to my inner feelings about my new job, home, life. At one point, when articulating the condition of the library, I wrote something along the lines of
"there are books that haven't been checked out in our entire lifetime, books that are buried in dust, books that have no bindings. It's hard, I love books, but I also know the ultimate goal is to create a space that kids love and want to be in. To that end, I've had to get rid of a lot of books (which is hard) and there's still so much "cleaning out" to do."
Literally, as my fingers found the keys that created those lines, I thought to myself
this is life.
Not, this is life, pull yourself up by your bootstraps and be an American, but this is life, a continual "cleaning out." When I think about the things that most starkly cultivated me as the person I am today, I'm reminded of the "cleaning out" that had to happen for me to discover the beauty beneath those things. When I struggled with insecurities after a few unfortunate events, my mind, body, and soul all had to undergo purification. It takes time and sometimes self-doubt and renewed insecurities extend the initial timeline, but it is this commitment to cleanse the spirit and soul that develops us as humans, develops humanity. It is these times, when my bearings are ambiguously defined, that areas of dirt are more apparent and subsequent cleaning is inherent.
This is life, cleaning and putting faith in an unseen product, being present for the process of purification.
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