That breaking and ripping and growing and nurturing; how your heart must break to grow larger to house that new work. How the work utterly breaks you and asks so much of you. In the beginning, you're not certain you'll survive its becoming, its beckoning to be. It's beyond needy--it's wildly parasitic, but not creating would be an even worse death. You cannot leave this life without gifting this thing to the world. It burns you, breaks you, but it must be. And it actually makes you better, but it's impossible to see the benefits sometimes. It's so easy to let the weight take over: the heavy voice that says it's too much. But you were made for this.