Mental Health

  • Mental Health,  Reflections,  Spirituality

    Be Present for Joy

    Joy isn’t always in the present. But it isn’t anywhere else, either.

    Joy doesn’t live in the past, or the future. This little millisecond sliding through time, splitting the future from the past is all we have. Trying to fight that kills any possibility of joy.

    I say this in the middle of extremely dark and terrifying times. It’s because of those very times that I say this.

    I would love to be in another timeline as much as the next person, but we need to stay present and try not to dissociate or long for the past or mentally speed ahead to a better future.

    I am not advocating for toxic positivity. Injustice is infuriating and rightly so. Grief and rage are warranted and needed. But we can’t live on rage alone. Without any joy, we die.

    During these dangerous and evil days, finding joy in the present often requires zooming way in, up close and looking at our day under a microscope. Zoom in on the building blocks of life that are easily missed. Zoom in to feel the warm sun on your face. Zoom in to enjoy the dew drops on a blade of grass. Zoom in to relish the tickle of curly toddler hair against your neck, their little heartbeat against your chest. Zoom in to the buzz of crickets on a still night. Zoom in to a loved one’s laugh. Zoom in to meditate on the smell of muffins in the oven or the takeout on your counter. Breathe.

    Anxieties are high. My own is through the roof. But I try my best not to let it take any more from me than is necessary. So I ground myself and try to focus on what I can control and what I love and not give up my joy voluntarily.

    There will be moment where joy is impossible or inappropriate, but don’t let them take over more than their rightful space.

    What can you find in your microscope today that could bring you a little joy?

    Sometimes joy is all we have.

  • Empowered Womanhood,  Gender,  Mental Health,  Poetry

    Celebrating Myself

    I didn’t know what freedom was

    But I sure loved the feeling

    I didn’t realize it then, but I had found my escape

    Let goodness lure you in, you can trust it

    Listen to your body and you will be free

    Those who can make you feel flawed have the power

    Suddenly you need them

    To fix you and tell you how to be

    Journey alone and your voice gets louder

    The cacophony fades away

    I’m not finding myself, but finding my worth

    I’m not lost, just unseen so frequently – by even my own soul

    They gave me blinders – “wear these to fit in”

    Now I couldn’t see where I ended, and they began

    What would feel real if truth could speak for itself?

    Hundreds of little shards of glass

    Broken bits of me

    Arranging them together as a sparkling mosaic

    Each one reflecting my spirit

    I’m joining the resistance by not hiding

    Sharp and bright – this art is dangerous

    Drawing attention is a threat to the weak

    They protect themselves by rattling the strong

    They cower at authenticity

    Celebrating myself is my chosen act of rebellion

  • Mental Health,  Poetry

    Chasing Snowflakes in Summer

    Seasons – each perfect in its place – cycles of growth, slowing, rest and rebirth
    But what if eternal summer takes hostage the earth?

    Summer is lovely until it won’t end, wearily dissolving into a desert
    Vacation turns to exile, looking for home, always on alert

    I barely remember my last winter – I was a child when all was in balance.
    Since then only a distant memory; a fleeting moment, a stolen glance

    Piecing together fragments, I have a picture now
    Snow bright, and deep, it weighs down a tree bough

    Blanketing harsh landscape, softening corners, rounding edges
    Drawing artful designs on all the cliffs and ledges

    Peace takes over, the hustle bustle lays dormant
    Jumping the track, everything stops for a moment

    Magic overtakes even the most disgruntled old men
    Footsteps recorded, journaling where you’ve been

    Suddenly everything is different, new, simple, clean
    Pause ordinary life, something special is happening!

    I long for winter returning again– why am I so long deprived of rest?
    Hibernate, take a break – from running and striving, every healing quest

    Yearning for freedom to just be, to exist, to feel my skin tingle in the cold
    But in this forever dry and barren land, I sense my frame growing old

    Chasing snowflakes in summer – eyes wide open, searching for beauty so delicate
    Intricate and fragile, here briefly then forever gone, fading, decadent

    Around me dull brown, brittle leaves, meager harvest, thick air stifling
    Cracked soil, dry creek, withered sprouts, exhausted from surviving

    Midsummer’s rush, go, grow, travel, work, climb; using every last minute of daylight
    I’m tired. I’ve climbed mountains, traversed long roads, can I turn down the next fight?

    Bouncing from one drought to the next, never catching a break
    A hundred mirages later, wondering if I’ll even recognize a lake

    Begging the weatherman, please I need snow
    Painting a canvas, sparkling clean, iridescent glow

    A glimpse of relief; frosty morning, sharp inhale, the relief I crave
    Not for long though, frozen fractals helpless against another heat wave

    A single snowflake lands on my nose, tinge of cold and then melted wet
    Frigid water running down my face, savor the moment

    Honor that solitary soldier that braved the atmosphere to meet my face
    Bronze it’s memory, hold sacred this space

    Pioneering snow star, sailing through the skies
    Meditate, connect to where it’s origin lies

    Inner peace now, snow starts to fall
    The running inside my head slows to a crawl

    Perhaps, perhaps… No that couldn’t be!
    Maybe all this time it’s source was inside of me!