a metaphor (indulge me)

a metaphor | Amanda Zampelli

I’ve mentioned before that my sister is going to be my neighbor soon. She’s moving into a foreclosed one-bedroom apartment one building away from mine…once the bank gets their shit together and actually allows her to close and get in there.

Funny thing: her third floor apartment overlooks my parking space, so every time I get home from somewhere, I look up and see her blacked out apartment – all empty and lonely.

I was on the phone with her the other day after a late night work shift and I made this analogy:

I said: “Your apartment is so dark and depressed, wondering why nobody lives there, looking at its ugly brown walls in despair, feeling empty and barren and hopeless.” (If apartments had feelings.)

Then I continued: “Little does it know how loved it is already and all the grand plans you have for it.”

…because you see, my sister can’t stop thinking about this apartment. My sister sends me collaged images of wall colors and mid-century modern furniture and this is her latest rendition:

a metaphor | Amanda Zampelli

She’s so funny because she changes out a chair here and there or decides on a different light fixture, but no matter what she does, this apartment is going to be EPIC. This apartment is going to be STUN-NING.  At this point in the process — the apartment has no way of telling what we already know –  that it is going to be SO GOOD, that it is already SO LOVED, and how FULL + PURPOSEFUL it’s going feel when my sister’s done with it.

This metaphor hits my heart.

Lately, I’ve been having a tough time – another season has knocked me to my knees, and has blasted me full force. I’m talking about my anxiety, depression, and OCD – things I’ve struggled with my whole life, but only in recent years were able to give a name to.

My best childhood friend announced yesterday that she and her husband have a baby due in August. I couldn’t be happier for her, but it truly frightens me just how far away that life goal feels from the state of my life right now (every life goal I’ve had in my adult years, actually).

I’d like to believe I’M like my sister’s apartment – dark and depressed in this cold season – wondering why nothing has materialized here, wondering why other spaces are so full of life while I feel empty and barren and hopeless, really struggling.

I’d like to believe that the Universe has grand plans for me that I just can’t visualize yet, that God can’t stop thinking about me and has designed a stunning & epic adventure waiting to be implemented. I’d like to believe it is going to be SO GOOD, that I am already SO LOVED, and I will feel SO FULL + PURPOSEFUL when He’s done with me.