March 24, 2013 § 10 Comments
Here is the post in which I tell you about my own “mental health”. Can you even read that without cringing and wanting to leave? Me neither. While I hope you enjoy this experience of selective honesty, I ask you to be generous about the pace of it. I need you to understand that I cannot share all of it at once. It isn’t a grocery list or a river of narration in stereo. It isn’t ordered or poetic or even particularly interesting to anyone but me. To me it is both amazing, as is the first cell I started from, and mundane, like the way I part my hair after I wash it in the shower.
I’m learning more and more that people really like it when you share yourself. Now I’m not looking for likes here, I’m only searching for a deeper connection to myself and therefore to you and ultimately to the Great Pulsing Now-ness. So. In the spirit of extending my humanity to you as a plant turning toward the sun, I confess to you, I’m awesome. « Read the rest of this entry »
March 18, 2013 § 6 Comments
I wrote this ten months ago in a fit of insomnia, sadness, unemployment and some surprising 4am clarity. You know what it proves? That what we call personal progress is slow and circular. We make concentric circles in our efforts to be better people and we come back to the same stuff, the same issues, over and over again. Beautifully frustrating.
I would describe it as a mental health week. That’s what it has been, this past stretch of days. We like to name sequences of time so that we can remember them or feel like we’ve learned something, made the most of it, or maybe we’re just self-absorbed. So while I was busy being so aware of myself it happened. My mental health week crept in through the backyard even though I had been watching carefully from the front porch, thinking I’d see it strolling down the street and get ready for its arrival. Five or six days later and there it is, boozing and smoking it up on the back patio, like I had been entertaining it on purpose. It was taking up space without my even knowing it. Although, that’s why I’m writing this. I know it. And it’s real. And once again, I have to face myself, my situation, and say, yes I have a mental…I live with mental…I have a low grade depression called…this is who I am. « Read the rest of this entry »