A Returning

 Two years, approximately. A little less.

And it's... fitting. We come back to reread our last post, and nod respectfully at what our past wrote to us, and to anyone else who would happen to read it.

The long, slow winter was very real. We found not much hope, not much creative impetus to put toward anything that was not desperately urgent or a way to cope with difficult trauma, difficult circumstances, difficult emotions.

We have lost an old friendship, we have tasted the harsh kindness of sleeping in an overflow homeless shelter, we have entered and left two houses that both became socially awful places to be.

Now... at last, we have had stability of housing which has not become terrible and full of bad conflict, for... five months, which seems to have been about as long as it took for us to start to feel safe really unpacking into it and regarding it as a place we will probably be able to stay for the foreseeable future, until we choose to leave.

And we begin to turn our minds to proactively grieving some of the things we have lost. We begin to tentatively rekindle our exploration and classification of unfamiliar music. We go out and meet people.

It seems that warmth and sunlight has come at last to nurture some little shoots of hope from those long-buried seeds, after a winter that lasted well over a year.

 Hi. We're here. I'm here now.

And we will see, what we find to want next.