“One need not be a Chamber — to be Haunted —
One need not be a House —
The Brain has Corridors — surpassing
Material Place —”
― Emily Dickinson
I had the honor and delight of visiting Emily Dickinson’s house this past summer. It’s where she wrote nearly all of her poetry. It’s where her brain was haunted by the world, by the human experience. It’s where she was free to discover herself and her work.
Thousands and thousands of people traipse through the corridors of this house each year in a quest to understand Emily better. But it was the corridors of her brain (as the poem suggests) that actually housed her singular brilliance. And she was the only one to ever traipse there.
What is uniquely housed in your brain?
