Many Things Resilient We Find Ugly

The world claims to love resilience, but is irked at that of a cockroach, which only knows how to survive and is very good at it. Every moment leaves its impression, and to wear the worst moment’s marks can be seen as martyrdom, perpetual victimhood, milking a situation. What if ache, armor, ugly is all one has to show for how they continued living in crisis? The purpose of shame is not to make better people, but quieter ones. There is an angry Puritan haunting the house, and to exorcise him, you must lean into the dirty, the awful, the unspeakables of your own life. You must learn your body, its limits and indentions, and gleefully call it yours. You must love mystery, the other extreme of faith he does not know, and always entertain it. Lest you always fear the ghost, lest you inevitably become one.