Today I picked up the keys for my new apartment and stopped by to check the place out one last time before the move. I stood in the empty shell of what will be my new home, and it felt so so good. I felt like amazing things might happen there.
I'm going to bring this back to Paris — don't act surprised. I started feeling myself in Paris when I had my very own space. Sure, it was an 8m x 8m teeny tiny room with a futon, peeling plaster and one bitty square window, but it was mine. I was free to close the door to the world around me, uninterrupted and typing like a madwoman and sipping cup after cup of tea. And I was free to open it and step outside and explore. Either way, it was my decision, and I took full advantage of that.
I crave this sort of freedom in Chicago, and soon I will have it. Except now I will have a room and windows twice as huge. All the more space for my big ideas and big dreams to grow behind my closed bedroom door. And that means bigger ideas and dreams to escape when I open it and step outside to explore.