What do I want?

lunargirl27

I want to offer something to people when their lives feel hopeless and unmanageable, when circumstances seem like they will never change. I want to remind myself we are always in motion, life is constant change, and that when I’m in despair there is always the knowledge that this to shall pass. I want to remember where I’ve been so I can understand where I am right now; and I want to really believe down to my bones that in the unknown there is not only fear but also possibility, excitement and of course, hope.

And love. Always, love.

I want to share not only my experience and strength with you, but also my vulnerabilities, shame, and fears; to describe the tools that are helping me learn and heal from illness, loss and trauma; and to teach the practices that allow me to live each day awake. I want to tell you that even in the midst of severe depression I can feel moments of joy and gratitude, even when the walls that contain everything I’ve known crumble around me, I can recognize beauty.

I never want to stop writing because spinning words into some kind of meaning helps me survive. Today it is the only thing getting me out of bed. Writing is a form of prayer (I don’t who said this but I will never forget it). It’s a way to fully claim my scars, wounds, wildness, and joys; writing lets me transcend their story by transforming their sweet  ache into something messy and beautiful, an intimacy shared between strangers. To write is to be powerful.

This blog is my commitment to never give up, and to stay awake to this life no matter how hopeless I feel, no matter how great the loss is that I face. I want to write and to live no matter what.

Tonight I have nothing left in me. My energy is sapped, my mood is low, and fear is winning the battle with faith over the state of my current physical/mental health. But I made myself open this damn computer and show up. For however long it takes to finish this post I will not succumb to the fear and depression. I am not where I used to be. I don’t have to believe the old familiar lie: my body is betraying me. The truth is more potent and contains the power to heal.

My body is telling me to pay attention. This isn’t my fault.

The flowers on my porch continue to bloom their colors, the spiders are weaving their silvery webs around the heavy blossoms of my geranium; and there is still light enough to watch the outside world dance and turn.

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Published by lunargirl27

I am a writer and an artist, a teacher and a swing dancer (and a lover of all dancing); a woman who loves to dig in the dirt, talk to the flowers and sleep with the trees. I am an eternal student. Though I consider myself an introvert, my passion is finding true connection with others. I have lived with life-long chronic illness, and continue to struggle both with physical health issues, and bouts of depression and anxiety, sometimes debilitating. I am still reconciling my past with its effect on my present; learning to love the little girl who is still me, the one who carries our trauma. And I am finally, FINALLY, starting to know what loving myself actually feels like (less like an article in a self-help magazine, more like a loving expansiveness of self and a union with others. I don't like that description at all, but for now I'll let it be. This will kill my perfectionist). I'm here because I want to share my experience, strength, and hope. Not because I want to save or fix you, but because I hope you will see a reflection of your own strength and ability to heal in my words. The bad news is that no one will do this hard, at times painful, self-exploratory work for you. It's a humbling process. The good news is that you are capable of seeking help, and you deserve the love, support, and understanding that will help you heal. I acknowledge here, my privilege of having access to emotional support resources. I know I am one of the lucky ones. Though we cannot see each other, I know a little piece of you, just as you know a little piece of me. Our stories may be different, but we understand a shared pain. Though the specifics belong to each of us alone, our healing comes from also being able to see the similarities. This is how we break out of our isolation. And even if none of this helps you, maybe something here will lead you to a path that can offer you some hope and healing. Reach out anytime, I would love to hear from you.

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