“your destination is no utopia; you will endure anguish like rose quartz erodes with the weather, but it will be followed by a scintillating stone—breathtaking and meaningful. life will become bearable, and waking up will not be waterlogged by a dreadful lagoon of rubbing the sleep from your eyes until you can no longer see. you will look at the day as what it could be instead of what it is. your ribcage will flutter with the new life of butterfly wings, and you will remember the moments that mattered. the faces that impacted you with their kind eyes and thoughtful words—and perhaps most importantly, yourself and your growth, like a redwood tree at the kernel of a forest. do not lose this, yourself; and if it so happens that you do, follow the road back home.”
— Allie Piette, “A Hospital Kind of Joy”
