It’s a story about an unwinding. Not the “it’s the weekend, kick off your shoes and unwind” kind of unwinding. It’s the unwinding of tightly held beliefs that there are rules you just follow for the sake of following rules. You don’t write on the house. You don’t jump on beds. You don’t put stickers on furniture, especially things like instruments. You don’t say bad words. You don’t let people see weakness leaking. You reply with the answer you are supposed to give not the one you want to give.  An unwinding seems like it would be wild or out of control. But my unwinding sounds like singing loudly, off-key and not caring.  My unwinding began without me noticing. It snuck in during moments of eating ice cream for breakfast on birthdays. It slipped in during moments of clarity when I saw a crack in the need to control things. It happened when I wasn’t looking and it’s arrival surprised me just as much as everyone else.  An unwinding is freeing. Freedom to value the thing