“When you come out of the storm, you won’t be the same person who walked in. That’s what this storm’s all about.”
~ Haruki Murakami, Kafka on the Shore
The air is tinged with cold and that strange electricity that comes before a storm. I am watching from my upstairs bedroom, stuck in the city and longing for home.
The new meds I am on to treat the lyme and other bacteria are having brutal effect these past few days. Seems I have my own storm raging inside me.
I am wracked with fever and with pain. My eyes are fogged and my brain has turned to cotton wool.
It’s hard to type. Hard to think. Hard to read.
So I am mostly lying here, watching the sky and listening to music.
And somehow, there is so much beauty here.
I am profoundly grateful for my life.