Making space for creative expression supports me to reconnect with a sense of innate self dignity. But over and over I choose to put my attention elsewhere. Is my sense of self-worth so threatening that I feel compelled to spend my time, mental energy and life force in ways that negate dignity?

I’ve been stewing, brooding, bemoaning, stressing out and feeling incredibly stuck, fragmented and confused for the better part of this year. Writing and sharing that writing are supportive metabolic practices that nourish my emotional, mental and perhaps even physical health. Yet I’ve felt incapable of creating anything cohesive or complete or compelling with words. My soul feels battered around by time and the state of our world. As Kronos marches forward, more and more events happen and the number of ideas and experiences I wish to weave into these posts grows. Thoughts accumulate and overwhelm every corner of my mind and heart. Each time I come to the page, it’s as if the words — so alive in the moment they arose as thoughts — have perished in my hands, leaving just ash and bones behind.

Continue reading Happiness, Sadness: Words that Die in my Hands →