I am hunkered down this Sunday night, recharging and resting, finally feeling the full force of this fall catch up with me. It's so tough to take care of yourself in these kinds of times (with the cold and the dark not helping at all), but I will admit, that I can still sense a spark of magic in the midst of the mess, and I'm not going to let that go.
I am excited to share a really wonderful conversation I was lucky enough to have with Kerry Jeffrey of the Emotional Autoimmunity podcast last month. Hop on over to Kerry's site to have a listen to our conversation about anxiety, OCD, psoriasis, and what it means to take care of yourself. I love listening to podcasts so much, so it was such fun to be a guest!
I am excited to share a really wonderful conversation I was lucky enough to have with Kerry Jeffrey of the Emotional Autoimmunity podcast last month. Hop on over to Kerry's site to have a listen to our conversation about anxiety, OCD, psoriasis, and what it means to take care of yourself. I love listening to podcasts so much, so it was such fun to be a guest!
Also, I wrote you a poem. It may be dark and dreary this weekend (at least from my little corner of the world and web) but perhaps this will serve as a reminder that there is still beauty to be uncovered.
A Prayer for the Dark
When the tiny light you keep burning
in the windows of the houses in your head
threatens to die out
and it seems that your shame might just extinguish
the magic that you sensed
there in the soft, muscular corners of your heart,
blot out the brightness you always feared might fade away,
and your feet feel that they can't shuffle another step,
there might just be a Friend - oh, what a dear word-
who lights a match for you to see by
and in sending sparks flying into the black holes beyond,
might just touch your heart and catch fire.
A blaze to burn away the darkness
lick at the rough bark of your ego
and warm your bones
with something
resembling
hope
or at the very least
a small bridge from one being to another.
It's ok to breathe.
To burn.
To be.
No darkness can make you disappear for good.
And always, always,
there is something to be forged from the ashes.
So stay.
A Prayer for the Dark
When the tiny light you keep burning
in the windows of the houses in your head
threatens to die out
and it seems that your shame might just extinguish
the magic that you sensed
there in the soft, muscular corners of your heart,
blot out the brightness you always feared might fade away,
and your feet feel that they can't shuffle another step,
there might just be a Friend - oh, what a dear word-
who lights a match for you to see by
and in sending sparks flying into the black holes beyond,
might just touch your heart and catch fire.
A blaze to burn away the darkness
lick at the rough bark of your ego
and warm your bones
with something
resembling
hope
or at the very least
a small bridge from one being to another.
It's ok to breathe.
To burn.
To be.
No darkness can make you disappear for good.
And always, always,
there is something to be forged from the ashes.
So stay.
