I’m rebuilding a house. I think the frame is still good, but everything else must go. Sledge hammers to walls, I’m completely gutting it. In between rotting beams I’ll find old newspapers, children’s toys, and a message in a bottle. Tiny little clues to the lives once lived here. Gentle nods to the things that used to be important, but have no power here. I’ll pull the whole thing apart and examine the skeleton. There is still something good there, in the heart of it. A few strong beams that have been holding up the whole thing. No one could be fooled into thinking that the soft walls or caving floors were anything worth saving, but underneath it there are still a couple things I can hang on to.
That’s where I’ll start. I’ll reinforce the things that I can still save. Search out all the joints that need a little extra attention, but still have the right idea. Sand down the edges and coax them back into doing their job well. They must be exhausted from all these years spent just barely holding together an entire building that didn’t give a shit. Speak softly, talk sweet. Tell them about how I’m going to build it stronger this time. About how their strength won’t be wasted on something that is just barely holding together at the seams. I have all the material I’ll need and all the help I can handle. We’ve read all the books and drawn up all the plans. We know exactly how this is supposed to go and we’re just hoping we’re right about there still being some good left in there. Something solid we can attach everything else to.
We’re rebuilding a house. After years of neglect and rationalizations that didn’t get me anywhere I’ve realized that it’s time to tear the whole thing down. Save the strong pieces, the clean ones. Save the parts that believe in good things and have loving intentions. Throw away all the rotting drywall that made me believe I didn’t deserve to live anywhere better. Smash out the windows that convinced me this is all I’d ever amount to. I’m rebuilding a house. You might recognize the frame, a similar shape and style, but when you come inside again you’ll have no idea you’ve leaned against that frame before as you take off your shoes.
