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Woundable
I’ve started out writing so many different posts for this week. I’ve judged them too long, too personal, or too heavy. But I’ve decided to commit the crime of all three and hope that some part of this makes sense to someone. The photos are of wildflowers that I saw while walking in the woods…
Maery Gras
“Mostly we nurture our own blessings or spoil them, build firmly or undermine our walls. Who are termites but our obsessions gnawing.” — Marge Piercy, Nailing Up the Mezuzah By the time you read this, I’ll have been at a writer’s workshop on Madeline Island for two days, with three more to go. I wonder…
Is This Fun?
I was looking at my To Do list last Sunday and feeling my anxiety rise. I’d already crossed off a few things – like ‘Make bread and yogurt’ – deciding I’d buy them instead. ‘Clean house’ was stabbed through with a jagged black line. Sadly, this is how most of my weekends start off. Hell,…
A Letter from God
I’ve been struggling the past couple weeks. Really, Maery? That’s so unlike you. Stop being sarcastic. I have no reason to feel as sad as I do, which in itself, makes me even sadder. I go through cycles. I used to call it cycles of depression but I’m reluctant to call it that now. It’s…
Lost
I write, because I lose myself and the world around me when I don’t. It feels like creation. Like evidence that I’m still here and there is time.
The Shadow Self
Everything I start to write sounds so depressing. I’m happy on weekends, but weekdays I’m exhausted, burned out, and discouraged. I don’t want to drone on about that — something I need to figure out on my own. I’m just going to post a few photos that have been sitting around on my hard drive…