It can be crippling, having to carry the weight of one’s own existence. An exhausting stupor, worshipping the future without tending to the present. Much alike this fire, needing to be tended to.

And I think of Sisyphus with his stupid stone; at least I am able to benefit from my labor. In present time, I grow warmer as the flames grow. To parallel, I know if I were to stop tending to this fire – it would be to my own demise. The joyful struggle against defeat.

I came here to work, but if this wood stove can weld any cracks in my philosophies – or tears to my ego, I will accept it.

In the meantime, I am indulging myself with fresh cheese and wine, with little sound beyond the crackling embers and my innocuous typing. It’s as if I’m not even here.

I’m almost never alone as long as I’m haunted by my past. And plus, I have the ghosts that have been eerily watching me from that one dark corner.. I wish I could help them.

I imagine the similarities we share, while they’re tethered to a state of limbo in this giant, old home. Isolated, and perhaps afraid. The lack of control.

And how thirsty they must be..

It’s as if I’ve slipped outside of time, beside myself as I write. Becoming a subject of intense research, the flickering shadows studying me in the candlelight.

I stopped searching for magic once I learned to cultivate my own, mostly by obsessing over the moments betwixt our successes and failures, speaking to the smaller and seemingly insignificant factions of our day to day lives.

It is up to us to find meaning in the meaningless, that is where the magic lies. And this is, ultimately, what inspires me to continue forward when I feel at odds. It was Albert Camus that said it best: “Should I kill myself, or have a cup of coffee?”

The opinions of my readers do not concern me, because it is none of my business. But I feel I must add a specific detail here: I am OK.

I think it is easy to mistake one clearing their mind, for losing it. But a brief escape to solitude is not only noble, but necessary to our development. The power we hold to create new neural pathways in our brain is an incredibly understated phenomenon.

For instance, I went outside the other day and wept softly and suddenly in the silence.

If a girl cries in the middle of the woods, and no one is around to hear her, does she make a sound?

I had to take a moment to make sense of my emotions, dropping my firewood onto the grass beside me.

The air was so clear and cold, but I was flush.

The smell of pine and earth brought me back to being a little girl, living in the north woods. In the moment, the vast, uninhabited space around me was jarring. And here I was, with a vision of myself there in front of me. Neither of us were alone, one sat in front of the other.

Myself, a figment of my own imagination – a ghostly image among the pines.

One could argue that this is a clear indication of me “losing it” and I’m not here to argue with you. However, there is truth to natural elements curing hysteria. I decided that it is far too cold to go seaside, so the trees will suffice. My doctor did not understand my inquiry about a potential lobotomy either – remind me to not invite him to my next stand-up.

Anyway, back to the liminal space between the meadowlands and the woods..

I wiped my tears and looked up towards the chimney of this 200 year old estate, which in and of itself already felt like my own personal psych ward, and sat up from the ground with the wood I gathered.

Although I was overtaken in the moment, the vision of myself in isolation reminded me of the purity of the self – in all of it’s woes and wonders. A concept that can be difficult to interpret through the many sounds and souls of the city.

It is a mental sport, training our brain to think and see things differently. Without the hazy lens of judgement and self-imposed pity, we can see the entirety of ourselves clearly and lovingly. These new neural pathways are like trails in the forest, using the one less traveled towards the hearth.

Do not attempt to leave parts of yourself behind, as you will never find your way. I think the ghosts would agree.