My office window overlooks a massive building that’s being renovated. It’s one of the city’s landmarks, a concert hall opening onto the main plaza.
Every day, I get to watch construction workers pick at it, little by little: they first gutted it out almost entirely, demolishing everything but the outside walls, a few internal walls and the main pillars of the construction. What was once the place where my parents came to see me in dancing shows (I had a dancing moment as a teenager), was now a bare concrete structure.
They then slowly started rebuilding, at first roaming inside, moving cables and reinstalling pipes, then adding a bit of height and putting in new window frames.
One day, as I was journaling about my own slow progress towards my dreams and looking over the messy construction site, it hit me.
There’s this thing I never thought…
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