even though I’m not around much these days, I still stop by now and then, looking through the windows you all open onto your lives.

I see the beautiful new songs you’re sharing, the poetry and videos, the photographs from trips and quiet everyday places. glimpses of lives so different from the one I’m leading right now. and somehow, they give me hope. more than I know how to say.

I’m still following the program the doctors set up for me. addiction and depression aren’t things I want to say too much about, and I don’t want anyone to feel sorry for me. it’s just the work of staying here, getting through a day, and then another.

I’ve been making up new songs lately, and they’ve been surprising me. after everything that’s happened this year, I expected the hard and sad stuff to find its way into the music. I thought that might be all there was to hear. but something else keeps coming through, as if some part of me knows there’s more here than just the hard parts.

most of the time, I’m not sure what the songs are about. maybe they’re about a soul weary from trying to make sense of things, but still wondering.

I’m still asking questions of my life. I’m still noticing beauty, still trying to find the words and sounds for what I feel. and I want so badly to believe in love, even as I turn it over in my hands, looking at all the ways it might hurt.

I’ve learned a lot this year. that I don’t have to understand everything before I can let myself experience it. that I can stand in the warmth of a day without needing to make peace with the winter that will follow. that I can love someone without asking forever to make me a promise. and that I can watch the water disappear and let it go, even if I never know where it went.

maybe I’ll never quite get the hang of it. and maybe that isn’t the point. I’m still here, still feeling my way through, and letting life surprise me.

thank you for sharing your worlds with me. you may not know it, but through those little windows, you keep the light coming in.