Looking for a Lull

What a week it’s been for the United States. In a year that feels like it can’t possibly get any more surreal, chaos continues. While I will never claim to speak for everyone, I think it’s safe to say a good number of us are feeling pretty shell shocked and drained by it all: Pandemic. Recession. Racial tensions. Natural disasters. A predictably relentless political season. These macro level occurrences are playing out in infinite ways for each of us personally. 

This next week, October 4-10, is National Mental Illness Awareness Week. How timely. For so many people, even under the best of circumstances, every day is a battle within oneself. Thankfully, the stigma of mental illness is slowly beginning to diminish as more people become aware of just how common it is in its various forms and we all become more comfortable discussing it. It may seem like there is not much that we can all agree upon, but it remains my sincere hope that we can strive to be more compassionate human beings who can better appreciate that it is okay to not be okay. Sometimes simply voicing the struggles we are experiencing can make them feel less overwhelming. Of course, doing that can be so much easier said than done. It’s taken me years to appreciate this concept enough to begin practicing it. 

In January 2017 at the Academy Awards, Meryl Streep’s acceptance speech was largely a plea for greater empathy. She ended by quoting the late Carrie Fisher who said, “Take your broken heart, make it into art.” Tapping into one’s creativity has been a survival technique for countless people including me. Helping others to discover that ability within themselves was one of my favorite parts of being a high school English teacher. I miss that. The poet Henry Van Dyke reminds, “The woods would be very silent if no bird sang except those who sang best.” Everyone’s story is unique. Telling and listening to each other’s stories can help broaden the lens through which we see the world as we recognize our differences, while appreciating our commonalities can help unite us.  

Many stressors have been triggering my depression and anxiety lately. Sometimes when I have a difficult time verbalizing my concerns I turn to poetry. I like how much can be both said and left unsaid within a poem. It doesn’t resolve everything, but it helps me to put pen to paper. I’ve been struggling with writer’s block this past month which is especially frustrating when writing is usually so therapeutic. I have started several potential posts and couldn’t formulate my thoughts enough to feel they were worth sharing. Yesterday I wrote a poem in my journal. Then I slept on it. In lieu of the other posts I’ve started and yet to finish, I am sharing this for now. It certainly doesn’t capture everything that has been on my mind, but it should convey a piece of it. We are in some crazy times. Feeling unstable is a perfectly reasonable response. Thank you to everyone who has been reading. Please take good care of yourselves and those around you however you find works best and may peace be with each and every one of you. 

Eye of the Storm

How are you?
 
I’ve been better
I’ve been worse
I can be a blessing
As well as a curse.
How about you?
 
We can lean to the left
We can lean to right 
Stand up, sit down
What’s worth a fight?
Wish I knew . . . 
 
Maybe I do.
 
I, too, have a dream
We’re in this together
Where all seems not lost of
The thing with eagle feathers
No red, no blue
 
A shared storm it may be, but
No vessel’s the same
Those safely harbored
May miss the whole game
Privilege eschews
 
What will be rued?
 
Ride waves, adjust sails
We are built for the sea
To seek justice, love kindness
To walk humbly
This can be true
 
Weather the storm and
May all boats rise
Bows set towards dawn
Eyes on the prize
Many ships; one crew
 
Fair winds and following seas