paint every day they say. even when you have the flu, and feel like shit, and have a thousand other things going on. but, no. no. no, don’t do that. it’s not that. it’s not punitive and demanding, like a drill sergeant. you will ruin stuff if you come in like that. it’s not dragging yourself in, batting away the other things pulling at your attention, mixing paint with resentment and fear and exhaustion: no.

its crawling in sometimes, yes. it’s dried tears on your face, needing a nap, feeling wrung out and used up and flawed and humble and fragile and sad. sometimes it is. but instead of pushing, instead of ignoring all the difficult feelings and wishing they would go away, bring them. come in with your arms full of messy, human stuff, and offer yourself anyway. this is what it means to come as you are. don’t ignore it, don’t stuff it behind the couch on your way in and pretend it’s not there. hold it like a huge pile that you can barely see around and sit down with it in your lap.

‘here i am.’ you could say. ‘im empty and exhausted and fragile, but i’m here.’ (pause. take a breath) ‘does anybody need anything?’ you ask, feeling silly. knowing that you have so little to give, and you are asking for so much. just offer, and mean it. be willing to sit in your rocking chair and keep them company.

and then see what happens.