I’m rusty. I wonder if I have anything to say.

I do.

What do I have to say?

I’m not sure.

I long stretch, and peer over my shoulder—is it safe?

The fear is all-consuming.

How do I become less fearful? Practice. I feel very sure of that. Practice practice practice.

Show up. Look yourself in the eye. Don’t feel ashamed of yourself—maybe even feel a little proud of yourself.

Let the compassion flow through and from you.

Don’t fear rejection, it is a gift.

Get curious. With yourself, with your loved ones.

Embrace opportunity, even though it scares you.

Don’t let this season pass you by. Take your socks off and walk barefoot through the grass. Wash the pump parts and the tiny clothes over and over again.

Love your little family with a ferocity that scares you. Feel yourself quake with the intensity of your love.

Love your people outside of your home. Don’t let the fear of losing them keep you from feeling and sharing and embracing those relationships.

Be uncomfortable. Hold yourself accountable. Hold yourself gently.

I’m so grateful for this life.

Should should should should.
You should I should we should they should.
Just be. For the love of god, just be.

When will I decide to have the courage to spend my time doing things I enjoy? She wonders, counting down the minutes to when she can clock out for the day

Rushed jam toast on the way out the door

The waltz of brake pedals and turn signals

Triplicate ECGs and securing warmed blankets under fragile chins

Programming “home” into the GPS

The tingle of bare skin under hot water- just one more minute

Cold toes squeezed between a warm leg and couch cushion

Unloading the dishwasher, so that it can be immediately reloaded

The familiar embrace of bedsheets and a worn pillow

Goodnight kiss, roll over, a soul-cleansing sigh

The peaceful weight of sleep

Life.

Eyebrow twinge, pulsing temples,

Thirsty eyes. Cartwheeling mind.

Tired exterior, that’s busy inside.

I’m not sleepy, your brain croons.

Hours tick by, wide-eyed.

You’re at her mercy, after all.

And so you wait patiently

For heavy lids and wispy thoughts

Soft and dewy, glowy fresh.

Muted mauve, or bold excess.

Palettes powders, creams and sticks,

Brushes paint your canvas, bliss-

fully you play- create,

Again tomorrow, it’s a date

Proud peach,

security breach.

They stormed the halls,

A coup it’s called.

Shocked and awed, albeit

history called it.

It’s Black and white,

in clear daylight.

Spineless creeps,

Impassioned speech.

Democracy endures, another day

When will we learn from our mistakes?

I’m still here

You sure you feel okay?

Yes, just the general tiredness of existence.

Weariness?

Yeah, weariness.

I have a secret, she whispers.

That fear

and joy, I feel it too

The rawness, the humanity

echos through my bones.

Remind me why it’s a secret? I whisper back

I’m making a sneaky escape

out of quarantine

into this new, exciting role.

It feels wrong

to grip this opportunity in my clammy fingers

amidst the turmoil of the world.

You’ve been carrying this pain in the curve of your back

You say it’s fine and, in doing so, perpetuate an unhealthy standard

Relax. Sit up straight and proud. Stop twisting yourself into the tiniest corners of every room.

Take a seat at the table,

Speak up. Take up space,

it’s about time

This day

This life

This chapter

This moment.

The pain the joy the sadness the pleasure

The struggle the celebration

Celebrate, let us celebrate.

Don’t rush

Pretzel crunch, have a hunch,

I’ll be at Central Perk through lunch.

Blankets cover, wiggly toes,

Cozied up-how long? Who knows!

Sipping cold, bubbly bursts,

Won’t be the last, isn’t the first!

Swelling with gratitude,

Calm washes over me.

The unknown lies ahead,

But I am held, infinity.

Life doesn’t need to be a string of reasons to make yourself miserable

Medicated
discouraged
still not fixed.

Have I made a mistake?

The panic rises in my chest, my airways reflexively constricting.

How do I wade through the expectations and judgements to find what I want? How do I quiet the chatter to hear what is on my heart?

I thought I had done that. Now I second-guess myself.

Is a good career-move a good personal move?

Am I scared or is it not right?

How can I tell the difference?

Days ago, I examined my options and made this decision. I said, “I can’t believe I even considered passing this up.” I cling to that memory of confidence. I don’t feel an ounce of it any longer.

It’s too late anyway. The ball is rolling.

And so I sit in my discomfort. This is my reckoning. Long naps, late nights, empty fridge shelves, and aimless thoughts won’t cut it anymore. But I don’t want to hide my real problems by just putting a bandaid of new problems on it. Is that what I’m doing?

Right now I am thinking about everything I will miss—that doesn’t mean it’s wrong, it just means my experience has been worthwhile and meaningful.

Growing pains.

Inhale, exhale.

This moment lasts infinitely.

You’re paralyzed by uncertainty, but time does not do you the courtesy of standing still.

The days bleed together, life swirls on around you

As you peer through anxiety’s iron grip, searching for where this ends.

But you can’t see the end. All you can do is wonder.

You steel yourself as you raise your tattered mask to your face, wondering if they can see through your tired facade.

When no one’s looking, you drop your guise and gasp for air.

Inhale, exhale.

How long will this go on?

Your weary soul is crumbling under this weight. Fluctuating between numbness and the brink of madness.

You trudge forward

Scared but doing it anyway