rest

Time to Stop Moving 

All the big picture ideas get
bogged down by tiny details
nothing ever seems worth the trouble
of teasing out the tangled minutia

Ambition without aim is an oxymoron
although something inside me still aches
an unreachable itch for a project worth pursuing
a tangible goal to give life meaning again

Maybe every direction is just a distraction
a mirage in the distance to keep us moving
through a desert that is identical wherever we stop
would it all be the same if I simply sat down here?

It feels shameful to keep existing without a purpose
the unsightly sin of complacency is a heavy shroud
the urge to prove myself through accomplishment
is a set of iron shackles around my trembling soul

Motivation is meaningless and amorphous to me now
there has never been satisfaction at the end of my striving
the soft voice inside just says that its time to rest indefinitely
in the end, all I want is to want nothing
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Let Me Sleep 

It's not fair I can't fall asleep with the trees every winter
and only rise again when the distant sun returns
being left abandoned in this windswept landscape
is too much agony to endure year after year

Left to live as a corpse in this cold darkness
denied the sweet slumber offered to half of nature
unable to escape into an expanded unconsciousness
until I am awaked by the scent of spring flowers

Half my life is wasted waiting for the thaw
huddled into myself for safety and warmth
where the beauty of the silent snow
cannot creep into my veins

Patience is a virtue I have not been artful in
the ticking clock torments me and tears me down
telling me I must rise and not let time slip by
while my delicate soul continues to shiver

The Devil’s Mill 

There was a time when the world moved slow
with the rounded loveliness of hiccupping days
that dripped gently into the deep, reflective pool of life

When rushing into the future was a sign of ill intent
not the industrious, enviable attitude of an elite individual
only a madman would pass up the daily spectacle of the setting sun

The wind through the reeds served its own ends
and it was an honor just to be a witness to this earth
as she twirled and unfurled a routine of majestic mysteries

Time is the tyrant that has torn us from true living
a construct of man that manifests in ceaseless obligations
a slight of hand that has convinced us it is objective and concrete

A clock will not tell you that this moment is eternal
the liquid nature of the kaleidoscope of now
if forever transforming and becoming something new

The radio static of the collective mind has gotten so loud
it's all but drown out the music of the present moment for us all
life has become the distant background noise of greater misery

But the shackles of time can still be cast off
it's not too late to emerge again into snow white infinity
the devil's mill that man has set in motion can also be stopped

The Gift of Idleness 

Paradise is promised to us
through painstaking productivity
happiness is hanging there
just past more hard work

It's shameful to acknowledge exhaustion
after hours toiling in the sweltering sun
no one dares commit the sin of sitting down
swallowed up by the fear of being labeled lazy

Capitalism is cleaver if nothing else
convincing us to become our own slave drivers
soiling our own perceptions of what it means
to savor this one and only existence

Linking the concept of leisure with sloth
until we never stop moving for even a second
losing sight of our right to be idle
and enjoy the God-given gifts of this life

Standing still is an act of shocking rebellion
in a social system that expects you
to burn your own flesh to feed the never ending
fire of the economy and sacred stock market

These collective misguided morals congeal
making virtue synonymous with profit for the powerful
a seed of shame buried deep within the conscience
of every unfortunate American child

Your blood is worth only as much as the oil
that it can replace in the groaning machine of industry
keep making the products you will always be
too poor to consume yourself

Trying to make us forget that stillness
has been the wellspring of all great art and invention
a futile effort to make us too tired to revolt
they cannot choke off my awe of the open sky

Be Your Own Inspiration

As seasonal depression has slowly but surely sucked all of the life and motivation out of me in the last few months, I’ve been finding it harder and harder to write. An overwhelming sense of shame and mediocrity grip me as I attempt to do my daily poetry. I’m so distracted by the idea that I am not good enough, that my words are ignorant and hollow, that I can’t concentrate for long enough to create anything. Then this only reaffirms my crippling self-doubt, making it harder to come back to my laptop the next day.

Yesterday after finishing a poem that I wasn’t particularly proud of, I decided to read some of the older ones I had compiled for publishing this coming year. Even though I’ve done this in the past, I was still surprised at just how wonderful I felt these older poems were. I know I was partly moved because they reminded me of the times when I had written them, but I can’t deny that they are also excellent poems in their own right. I think anyone could enjoy them just as much as I have. The more I read, the more thick the wall of tears became against my eyelids, inevitably overflowing into hot streams down my cheeks. I wrote these. I had to keep reminding myself.

Today despite still not feeling particularly creative or inspired, the sense that I’m a failure and I’ve never written anything good nor will I ever write anything good is absent. I know that inspiration will find me again. I believe in and am proud of the things I have already created. I feel at peace inside this artistic dry spell.

Looking back at my old work was exactly what I needed. I’ve done this in the past not only with my poetry, but with my art as well. One day I was nearly in tears, wondering how I had ever believed I could draw or use my drawing tablet at all. Then I decided to pull up some of my old drawings. I was so happy looking at them. These are really good! I was delighted and surprised that I was so easily able to forget my own talent.

Sometimes the combination of mental illness, writer’s block, and exposure to so many other people’s amazing work online can leave us feeling inadequate. In these moments I try to remind myself of Lizzo’s wise words: “I am my inspiration.” We don’t need to be at the same level or have the same style of writing or drawing as other people. It can be hard to be an impartial judge of our own talent. That’s why it’s important to go back over our older work. So many times I’ve found that something I once hated or didn’t think much of has turned out to be one of my best creations when I look back. The poems I wrote as a teenager that I was embarrassed by seem simply beautiful to me now. I’ve even decided to publish them, and they’re available on Amazon if you’re interested.

I guess my point is, don’t trust your opinion of yourself or your ability when you are feeling low. The mind has a way of convincing us of things that aren’t true, especially when it comes to our perceptions of ourself. Just be patient and remind yourself through hard evidence. If your brain is telling you that you can’t write, go back and read what you’ve already written to prove it wrong. If it says you can’t draw, take the time to enjoy a personal art show of past works to silence that critical voice. Hell, sometimes this even works if I’m having a particularly bad body image day. I’ll look at somewhat recent photos I’ve taken of myself to remember that I can feel beautiful.

The only person you need to compare yourself to is your past self. Be your own inspiration. And most importantly, I want you to remember that every single thing you have created or will create is incredible and worthwhile, because it is a piece of your mind made manifest. When I look at something someone I love has drawn or written however silly it may seem to them, I love it. I love it because it came from them, and that’s all that matters. That’s what makes everything any one of us creates special and perfect. And lastly, let yourself rest sometimes. I promise your inspiration will come back soon enough.

Sick Day 

Sometimes sickness is a blessing
because it softens my sharp edges
I can more easily surrender to what is

My inner flame is subdued
allowing me to offer gentle energy
and loving kindness in place of judgement

Finally an opportunity to slow down
to enjoy giving myself comfort and care
as I patiently nurse my tired inner child

No longer able to resist much needed rest
settling quietly into soft stillness
I may like to stay here for a little while longer

Soft Escape 

There is a stillness in the night
that stops all thought
I often wonder if it is supposed
to feel so sweet as I slip
underneath existence

Each morning is an agony
of renewed responsibility and expectation
awaking to find myself again confined
behind the same searching eyes
within a cumbersome prison of flesh and bone

Where is it exactly that we spend half our lives?
why does my soul seem more suited
to the ethereal landscapes of the unconscious?
why has the waking world never seemed
to hold me fully in its solid hand?

I've always looked forward to the night
to the moment I am swallowed up by
the soft oblivion behind my eyelids
even a dreamless inky darkness
to me seems simply scrumptious

I've rarely known the torment of
an agitated, incomplete night's sleep
I am equally a stranger to even a moment
of conscious rest and repose
I'm accustomed to black and white

My soul is perpetually sleepy
exhausted by the constant fires
lit within the waking world
It wants to dissipate under deep slumber
to be scattered into stardust

I can only hope that I'll be greeted
by this same strange pleasure
as I let go once more into my ultimate end
and sink beneath those familiar, dark waters
for one sublime and final time

Tips If You Struggle with Staying Present

I’ve noticed that a lot of people, including myself, that have tried breathing exercises or mindfulness practices come away from them feeling as though they don’t work. For a while it was a mystery to me why some yoga classes or meditations felt so much more healing than others. I realized that the practices that weren’t able to recenter me were more like going through the motions rather than truly being present. I may have been meditating but my mind was wandering and/or my breath was short and shallow the entire time. Sometimes the internal experience does not mirror the outward manifestation of mindfulness practices.

Some days you’ll find you are just not able to focus as easily as other days. However, this does not mean that you shouldn’t try breath work or yoga or that these practices don’t provide any benefit. One thing I’ve found that helps me stay in the moment if I find myself struggling is imagining I’m writing a story. When the mind is very busy, stopping all together can feel impossible. Instead, try to describe the tiny sensations, sights, sounds, feelings that are happening around you that you normally wouldn’t pay attention to.

For example, say you are taking a quiet moment to connect with the earth. Rather than merely trying to force your mind into focusing on the breath, start writing a mental story as if you are trying to explain everything you are experiencing in that moment to someone else. Are your feet in the grass? What does that feel like? Where is the sun in the sky? Is there a breeze blowing? What sounds are there around you? Be as descriptive as possible. If you find it hard to keep your mind on this task as well, you can even bring a notebook and physically write it out on a sheet of paper.

When you start to put seemingly bland or uneventful moments into words, you realize just how much is actually going on even in stillness that you might not have noticed before. I always find this practice very soothing and pleasurable. Even if it feels like you have no time or your mind couldn’t possibly stop racing, set a timer for just 1-5 minutes. It doesn’t take long for your to settle the mind and body. You may even find you enjoy it so much that you make a little more time than you thought you’d be able to devote to this little mental, emotional, spiritual break. And if not, be grateful that you at least gave yourself one minute to rest. You deserve it.

Cozy Fall Activities – Living Alone Edition

My inner child has been lighting up at the prospect of all the fun fall possibilities this year. I can’t remember a time when I felt this delighted by this season. Maybe it’s just something about being in your late 20s that makes you a sucker for pumpkin spice lattes, scarves, and watching the leaves change. My tendency is usually to dissect and scrutinize such an uncharacteristic feeling. It is quite unlike me to feel like celebrating rather than mourning the end of summer after all. However, this time I’m not going to let myself spoil my own fun by overanalyzing. I just want to be kind and allow myself to fully embrace and enjoy this strange experience. So here are a few of the ideas I’ve come up with about how to do that.

1. Try a Homemade Seasonal Drink

While I do already have my pumpkin spice oat milk creamer in the fridge, I was craving something even more autumn inspired. Even though I’ve only ever had hot apple cider like once in my life, I really loved it. I didn’t really want to buy a whole jug of apple cider for just me though, so I looked online to see if there was some kind of alternative I could try. I stumbled upon this recipe for an apple cider vinegar drink instead. It’s very simple. I already had all the ingredients on hand. And it is quite yummy and hit that hot apple cider spot quite nicely.

2. Movie Night

Even if you live alone like me, there is nothing like snuggling up on the couch to watch a spooky, fall themed movie. Yesterday for the first time in years, I allowed myself to just lie in bed all afternoon and enjoy my day off. It was truly delightful. If you’re looking to get into the fall spirit, I’d definitely recommend making some popcorn (or maybe even roasted pumpkin seeds), grabbing your favorite, most comfortable blanket, perhaps enlisting the company of a furbaby or two, and settling in for a private little movie marathon, the cheesier the better.

3. Take a Walk

Autumn is the ideal season for long, introspective strolls. There is something so indescribably satisfying about hearing the crunchy sound of leaves beneath your feet. While I love the summer heat for walking my dog just as much, it’s even better when there is a crisp wind giving me a reason to quicken my step. Rather than sweating bullets, the soft sun peaking through the trees makes everything glow and gently warms me as I walk. Not to mention there is that perfect cozy feeling when you make it back inside.

4. Decorate

I’ve never been big about seasonal decorations. I’ll put up a tree and a few other things for Christmas, but that’s usually it. However, I’ve had the urge to purchase all those cute little fall decorations this year. I’ve even saved a couple of the pattypan squashes I’ve grown that look particularly like mini pumpkins. I can’t help but smile when I see their plump little presence on my kitchen table. Instead of asking myself, “What’s the point?” as I usually do, I’m not going to question my strange desire to spruce up my home with corny little doodads.

5. Journal

As I’ve already mentioned, there is a certain special quality about the fall and winter months that are perfect for solitude and introspection. It even seems like introverts tend to like these colder seasons more for this very reason. Light a candle, make yourself a warm cup of tea, coffee, cider or whatever suits your fancy, and write a few pages in your favorite notebook. Stream of consciousness will work just fine, but you can also look up some fall themed journaling prompts if you want to get extra festive.

I hope you’re all having as scrumptious of a fall infatuation as me this year. Let me know what your favorite ways to enjoy this season are. I’d love to get some new ideas since this is the first year I’ve really felt in the mood to celebrate and go all out.