Dwelling

‘Dwell’ is one of my favorite words.

Go ahead—say it. 

Dwell. 

Stretch it out now….Dwwwwwelllllllll.  Soothing, no?

It’s so comfy, so cozy…so rooted.  Everyone dwells somewhere—in homes…in cities…in trees (if you’re a squirrel, in which case  a tree is an excellent choice of dwelling)…in small towns and suburbs…stuck inside one’s head (my permanent residence)…

There’s also Make Believe Land, Never Never Land, Dream Land and… Possibility. 

I dwell in Possibility--
A fairer House than Prose--
More numerous of Windows--
Superior--for Doors--

Of Chambers as the Cedars--
Impregnable of Eye--
And for an Everlasting Roof
The Gambrels of the Sky--

Of Visitors--the fairest--
For Occupation--This--
The spreading wide my narrow Hands
To gather Paradise--

Thanks, Emily Dickinson.

I do love Possibility.

I find it’s the perfect location for those moments when my brain springs a leak and all creativity and confidence seek the nearest exit from my head (my ears?), leaving dregs of  doubt.

The quality of life in Doubt is nigh unto squalor. Ghetto.  The Slums.

There are drive-by shootings of brain cells in Doubt, for crying out loud.

I’m permanently relocating.

The dwelling’s fantastic in Possibility.

Feel free to visit anytime… :)