Somewhere along the way I meandered away from myself. So gradually, I didn’t realize how far I had gone. I opened my eyes to find myself lost in the dark. Deep in the forest with no way of knowing how I had arrived or how to get back.
So I’ve been slowly making my way back home, feeling around in the dark. Turning all sorts of attention inward in moments of stillness and quiet.
I like to imagine myself, as well, readying my home. With lush houseplants and gentle paintings. Establishing safety and fostering a cozy environment. Maybe running a warm bath and lighting the fireplace. Heating a kettle for a cup of tea. Establishing a life that I don’t want to distract myself from.
The way back home to myself has been incredibly difficult, painful, and disorienting. But I’m here and I’m safe. I’m well nourished and well loved. And I’m grateful to share with you in the ways you’d like to participate.
I’ve been accommodating 11+ food allergies/intolerances for the past 2 years. Adjusting to this lifestyle has been a journey filled with anxiety attacks, deep grief, confusion, frustration, and a lot of really insensitive comments. I’ve spent hours cooking meals only to find that they’d still make me sick. I’ve cried so many tears while eating
For a long time, Sundays were very hard–filled with anxiety of the upcoming week. Stress dreams and nightmares about what could go wrong, what was already going wrong playing out in my sleep, or maybe a long night of restlessness. While this moment in time is not yet anxiety-free (I am barely employed, after all),
I remember one summer making grilled cheese after grilled cheese, experimenting with butter v. margarine (spoiler alert–mayonnaise is the surprise winner), temperature, timing. I’d make them again and again. My ravenous (and not very picky) teenage brother and I would eat them all. He would give (brutally) honest feedback, but my favorite was when he
I put the garden to sleep in the fall. The next day, we woke up to a thick frost, the sound and smell of the heat running, and that very distinct cold and wintry feeling. It was the last season I will spend with that garden (which had grown to be my favorite place on
Monitoring others’ emotions and actions isn’t my responsibility anymore. As a child, hypervigilance kept me safe. [Thank you, hypervigilance, for keeping me safe when I needed it.] Now I let go of my need to monitor the subtleties on other people’s actions, words, and facial expressions. I no longer depend on others for my safety
Today’s Affirmations Read More »
When I stare at the treetops, I see lungs and veins and capillaries–whatever those are. I see channels of life and air and breath and nutrients. I see varicose veins and I see wrinkles in skin, around eyes and the back of a hand. An affirmation of mine has been “I am in harmony with
Will you come with me to my deep dark for a second? To the depths of despair. Have you ever been there. Where all the lights are off, and there’s water up past your ears and you can’t breathe and also don’t want to. And to exist is to fight for your life. To claw
One of the most beautiful words has come to me in my time of deep reflection. And when I tell you that this word would have lit a fiery rage of anger inside my soul… There are times in my not-so-distant past when anything slow-moving or slow-thinking or slow-being would have made me absolutely livid.
The first thing that comes to mind when I hear the word rich is a thick and moist slice of chocolate cake. My mouth waters when I think of its sugary goodness dissolving on my tongue. My eyes close to thoroughly savor, and my tongue instinctively licks my lips. I can’t help but to imagine
Teachers and nurses and ER doctors probably all have something to say about a full moon. The strange energy in the air. The wild spike in unfortunate or injurious incidents. I personally have found myself imagining particularly unruly students as werewolves howling crazily at the bright full moon, their furry silhouettes becoming feral and wild
I Think Bloodhound Gang was Right. Read More »