I’m going to plant an orchard in my front yard. I look forward to dewy fruit bursting in my mouth and tiny children scampering like monkeys along gnarly branches. Jewels, wealth to share. Home is where the things you desire become happy bedmates with your will and drive.

I am wearing a long black dress today, and a vaguely fuzzy sweater the color of mist. It blurs my lines and only hints at what I am- Face, throat, forearms and hands are all that is visible of me, and still I want to vanish completely.

I won’t. I am focused, intention aimed at repletion. I will create and build, I will grow my callouses recklessly and scrape the earth from under my nails. I will toil joyfully and relish harvesting the fruits of my labors. Sweat will drip from my nose as my skin runs with rivers of dirt, slicking the grip I keep on my tools. I will ache and creak in the mornings, oiling my joints with that first pot of coffee.

I will never be finished because there is always more. To grow, to be, to learn, to do. Always moving forward.