Tabula Rasa

It is minuscule and precious, born from something beautiful. It exudes an energy felt by those who exist near its borders. However, it might also pass you by and you might not even realise its power. To truly know this family is to understand something quite exquisite. I protect it with my hands. My family has been meticulously crafted and fought for. Nothing came at once, nothing ever came easily. Yet here it is. It is here. It is before me and my open eyes. We exist, as one collective of people. Together. We work hard every single day. While conceived through uncertainty, my family has grown through the soft but sometimes calloused hands of love. That love is now far-reaching, connecting us all, and it swirls through every one of my systems. My family is love. I have spoken of my family, the ones I care for. Now I speak of my body. My body is not like other bodies. It carries a weight that I cannot bring myself to be rid of. It strains under unforeseen pressures that rain from the sky every time I think I sense a break in the clouds. It is okay. I do not mind. My body is a shield. It is a safe place. Its expanse can offer shelter in a storm and I humbly take the torrent. While broad, there are moments I fear it may break. I fear it is bent too far. Shared by too many. Yet I do not want to rid myself of any of the souls it bears. I must breathe. I must let the knots untangle. I must reserve some space for myself. I have now spoken of both my family and my body, the ones that I care for and one that carries. Finally I speak of my house. My house is not like other houses. Sadness has kissed its corners, yet it holds moments of true joy. Laughter echoes. Over time the walls have evolved. I once rested my forehead on the floor of every room and breathed my intentions to the floorboards. Now, they support me, they hold us up. My unit. My life. I cannot dream of another house. When I sense change I fear the walls might crumble. But they are strong, they stand their ground. The foundations are deep. Come to think of it, all I have mentioned are strong and deep. My family, my body, my house. And what is the purpose of a house? Of a body? Of a family? One is there to protect. One to carry. Another to care. Endlessly and without question. I protect. I carry. I care. Every day. As will you. Yet, there are some moments in those days where I do falter. Sometimes I endanger. I drop. I loathe. As will you, my friend. It is okay. In those moments, with every exhalation of familial desperation, comes an inhalation of wonder. Our family is not like other families. It is mine.