Life becomes smaller, with the pain, it shrinks according to how bad it is today and what I have to be. Mother to children or just mother to cats? A friend, a daughter, an actual adult that needs to act as if all was normal normal normal.

There´s so much nuance in it, some days my life is a tiny marble, rolling into the cracks between the floorboards, sometimes it´s the size of my apartment, other times of the whole city, the whole country, the whole world (but those times have been rare lately).

And now, now i´m trying to find my life in the margins, the small things, the little common miracles and uncommon experiences.

Did you know, my neighbour loves tight ponytails and her really relaxed husband?
Once, when my children were singing in the staircase, someone sang back, just like this.
My orchids are blooming into the grey January sky, reaching, reaching up.
The tiniest cat falls asleep in the bathroom drawer regularly and purrs louder than anyone I know.
The woman at the bus-stop who wished for the coldest winter with sun on her nose and got it the next day.
My daughter saying – Mama, do you like your life? Because it´s important to.
My son switching between child and early teen like a pendulum on speed.
Being deeply understood.
Winter-roses that bloom regardless.
Beautiful fireworks, even if you are against fireworks.
Badly rolled homemade spring rolls.
Cats cuddling a sick child.
A love that still sparkles.
Old cookbooks and new recipes.
Painkillers that work and moments of peace.
Red-hot joy in the here-and-now.
The unexpected kindness of near-strangers.
Remembering to breathe and wait it out.

It´s a small world, full of small joys and sometimes, sometimes I forget to look.
But then I remember: A life in the margins is a life too.