Pay attention.
Notice your points of presence. The weight of your neck. Stillness is an action I am practicing.
Zeus
Did you know that legend has it that we were once four arm and four legged creatures? Then Zeus split us in half single handedly and subconsciously causing women and men to scour the earths and internets to find their other half?
Also
Newsflash. There never was another half. The other half you were searching for was you.
Let it go.
Back to writing.
It’s been awhile since I have written. Maybe I’ve just been too busy? Too busy living? Wandering? Feeling the tension of what I feel and need to say?
Over the past two years I’ve learned.
People can be a home, too.
…and maybe that’s why I haven’t written to you.
I am at rest.
Music> Life
My playlists are the music to my soul.
Thoughts. On. Thoughts.
My hands will grab you as you go,
By they will never pray
For you to love me harder
Because not even a new religion
Can make you believe
That what is real
You often cannot see.
-TeraMac
Name it.
April 1st 2005. The day I tried to let my body go from this world. I remember the day because when my brothers girlfriend kept calling him to tell him I was in the hospital, he hung up on her three times saying it was a horrible April Fools joke. And isn’t that how mental health is? We never expect it. The strongest struggle but we never know it. It almost seems like an April fools joke, well, because...”they would never, or I had no idea, or I just saw them last week and they were fine”. My sister thought I was in the hospital for an asthma attack until she went away to college——Because back then mental health was something we were embarrassed to share. Something we should bury away like a time capsule we hope nobody ever discovers. But no matter how much you bury it, it beats on. The strong always find a way to camouflage their pain. They wear it around like a fancy necklace and exert it in caring for others. And that’s how mental health works. There are triggers. There are bad days. There are days when your heart is too big for your body. The truth is. No matter how many degrees you have. How many summer homes. How joyous your job is. How many puppies cuddle you at night. How many friends you have collected along the way....Mental health is not some test you can study for, not some property you can buy, renovate, and manage, not some demon your friends can scare from under your bed, not some bad day blues that a happy hour can flush out. Back then I was struggling with my identity, with loss, with love, with religion, with hiding who I was. For the longest time I had two closets. One girls clothes. And one boys clothes. I compartmentalized all of myself unable to be who I authentically was. The weight was too heavy. Being in my body didn’t feel right because I had to be so many things other than who I really was. Therapy meant you weren’t normal. Being gay meant you weren’t normal. Back then I couldn’t name mental health. I couldn’t call my depression by it’s middle name when it came creeping up to scare me. Instead I let it overstay it’s welcome. I let it pile up a sink of dirty dishes. I let it be late on the rent. I let it scare away the neighbors. I let it steal the joy from the cabinets of my heart. I couldn’t name what it was, but I felt it. I’ve named all of my things now. They are a part of me. No longer scaring me into a dark alley, cornering me and mugging me of my words and hope. And I still have bad days. But, Years later I know now that it’s okay not to be okay. It’s okay to tell someone. It’s okay to talk about it. Yesterday will always be heavy and so I must learn to put it down. To not carry it alone. And yes, this is a bare all post. I am friends with colleagues and old students of mine, and bosses on my fb——however, I’ve learned there is nothing more powerful in this world then sharing a “me too” moment. One where others can see that life isn’t perfect, that the smart or lucky have scars. That a PhD or a cabin in the mountains does not make you immune to life’s struggles. That mental health does not follow the weak. That even pretty nature Instagram post have a backstory of healing to get there. Not all of us travel just to find happy, some of us travel to let go of the sadness so it no longer takes over our body. We all have a light and a dark and hiding our dark only shames others into feeling alone, or “crazy”, or sadly, too sad for their body to walk in this world anymore. We need these post now more than ever. Isolation is real. The heavy is a heavy we have to carry for the next 30 days, and for some alone and uncertain. So, speak up. Share a story. Ask someone their story. And don’t judge others. We all started as a weed somewhere and some years we forget to bloom...but we always come back the next year more big, more beautiful, with more awe to share. In this picture below, I was standing on a yacht in the bay in California, and I was probably my most depressed ever. But I didn’t always share it. Maybe somebody isn’t blooming this year—-reach out and support them. Let them grow against you. “Travel isn’t always pretty. It isn’t always comfortable. Sometimes it hurts, it even breaks your heart. But that’s OK. The journey changes you; it should change you... You take something with you. Hopefully, you leave something good behind." -AB
I’m back.
Words have more power than we can ever imagine. As a poet. A sometimes researcher. As a writer. I know this. Words are paint on a canvas, a polaroid on steroids. They hold the power to summarize pictures of a monotonous and boring life and they beautify the simplest of Monday's. They dance across our mind and illuminate long forgotten emotions we thought we could never, ever feel again. They hold hands while skipping within our head, attempting to catch our attention sometimes for a minute, sometimes forever. They make us remember the tiny things. His flannel. The smell of her hair. They make us forget. His hands. Her emptiness. They make us love. They make us cry. They, make us
And so I will continue to share. To let others trick or treat with my life and see the best treats I have to offer and the crappy generic parts of me too. In hopes that sharing will spark the writer in Me again while giving others a way to say “me too”.
My light will always be left on for you. Stop by.
Slow down.
Life hands us reminders to slow down.
To be present. To stop and live in the moment. Take those and use them wisely to recallibrate your heart and your mind. Things don't always end up the way you want them (December will be a testament to that), but as long as you trust the process and live in a space of gratitude life will come, and it will come beautifully. Walk a little slower, even if it's on purpose
Warning: graphic content below.
No time November.
And so it goes.
The I love you comes so quickly.
The newness fades, the shiny gets dull.
And the work reveals itself.
The cosmetic stuff turns into a full blown fixer upper.
And then we ask ourselves is this even worth it?
Oh how quickly we can auction off our love when effort knocks at our doors.
The most beautiful thing I could ever hear is -these words-I still love you.
Even when it's easier to run.
Firefly Nights
I know I haven't written much. I suppose I have little to say. I'm trying to fill in holes inside of me. It's been an exhausting summer and fall. From research to being in the hospital, to playing awesome Aunt and just being overwhelmed with work. Everyday I'm trying to put more in then I take out. Somedays I mess up. Somedays I'm the champ. The winner. The master of gratitude. Fall Always reminds me of everything I need to shed.
So here I am. Being content. Traveling and learning. What a journey it is.
All the kisses.
Sometimes the littlest things take up the most room in your heart.
"Nine out of 10 children get their awesomeness from their Aunt".
Practice what you preach....errr post?
Change is a hard thing. Learning why you default back to your old self in times of chaos and crisis is something some people will never master. One of the saddest things in the world is to see someone talk about how much they have grown and changed, yet never see actions to back it up. Today it's so easy to superficially pretend we've changed. We can post some self love quotes, snap a bunch a pictures of us reading a book or exploring some art, or create a board we pin to every now and then called "mindfulness". But just because we do these things for show, for the outter world, does not mean our inner world has changed at all. Doing these things means nothing if you still are who you've been telling people you aren't anymore. Posting a self love quote is empty if you aren't stopping the destructive behaviors that have kept you stuck in the same place for the past ten years. And yes, self help or trauma books or podcasts mean nothing, if you are resorting back to old coping skills or negative influences, or emotionless feel good actions for immediate gratificationor attention. And yes, you know exactly what those behaviors are. Change is hard. I get it. But avoiding the very thing you did and using humor to downplay it is actually suppressing your real emotions. It's not being accountable. It's not actively working on anything. It's simply making a joke of them. We can all go to therapist tell people we are actively working on ourselves We can pin another pin to our "board", but if we are not speaking our truth to a therapist or "board" and then actually LIVING it or breathing it in our actions----Then we are merely imposters, and in the end only cheating ourselves.
We must not post to our superficial outter world, if our inner world isn't practicing that same thing. Be the kind of person that lives what you post. That wants to see a better self. A better world. That wants to be surrounded by people who love them for who they are. Don't just pin about it. Don't post a quote about it. Actually fucking live it. Down to the bone.
This song.
You never loved me like I loved you.
Leave it better than you found it.
In my adventures to many parks this past year I often came across this saying. It has been a saying that I have embodied in all of my life recently.
If we can't bring beauty to something then we shouldn't be there. Take care of the places you go, the people you love, and the body you have. Leave it better, not the same, not worse.
I am reminded of this today---when someone offers words of an apology to me for treating me in ways I never deserved. Let me say this. There is a clear difference in being authententic and empathetic and sincere in your apology and also just saying it to say it so you can feel better and try to justify your own actions. If you feel someone's words were empty, dry, loveless, and merely a way to make themselves feel better----leave it. Leave it better then you found it. You deserve all of the love. All of the empathy. All of the sincerity. You are not regurgitated words with hollow actions trailing behind. You are not "I wish you the best". You are not formal. Your being is raw. The loss of you in someone's life is monumental. It warrants more. More love. More sincerity. More effort. More fight. Less should haves and more show up on your porch to say it in person. More fire in your heart. And if that's not something someone can offer your beauty of a soul, simply leave it better than you found it.
