I’m writing this a day late because I’ve been in a depression and I wanted to give myself time. This last week I drew a lot…using images to get out my feelings…but I don’t quite have the words yet. This image felt right though:
Sometimes the skies are dark and the waves may rise around us, but still we stand. It can be frightening and disorienting, but still…we are here. I’m not abandoning kindness and love and the knowledge that light always comes, eventually. I’m not abandoning joy and silliness…because clinging to it and celebrating it is what we will remember most. I’m not abandoning hope and trust…even when it sometimes feels harder to practice. And even if the world may seem a little cold today, know that you are here with me in this stony tower that may sway but doesn’t crumble. I’m not abandoning myself. I’m not abandoning you. Don’t abandon who you are.
Today this popped up in my fortune cookie:
“Mind your words; they have the power to build or destroy.”
And I suppose that’s true in many ways. Words can destroy beautiful things, but they can also dismantle terrible things. They can build communities and hope and rebellion and comfort. And right now I will use mine to remind you that you are not alone. I’m so glad you’re here.
So I guess maybe I did have some words after all.
Hugs,
Jenny
Ps. I took this photo with Dorothy Barker in the background (because who doesn’t need a dog pic?) and she snatched it out of my hand and then immediately regretted it and I had to fish it out of her mouth while she was looking at me like, “WHY DOES IT SMELL LIKE COOKIE IF IT IS NOT COOKIE” and I was like, “I DON’T KNOW, DOTTIE. THE WORLD IS UPSIDE DOWN SOMETIMES” and she was like, “Girl, are you okay?” and I took a deep breath to regroup and assured her that I was going to be fine and so Dottie and I are going downstairs for a little sweet treat because I think maybe we all deserve cookies and milkbones.
Treat yourself kindly, friend. I super crazy love you.
I know everyone is quoting Mary Oliver right now, but it also feels like a time for some Annie Dillard. She was talking about schedules, but it applies to Art as well: "a peace and a haven set into the wreck of time; it is a lifeboat on which you find yourself, decades later, still living.”
Thank you for finding the strength, because I needed to hear that from you today. I'm feeling sad, discouraged, discarded, and burdomsome, not wanting to impose my malaise on those around me, but also not wanting to be alone in it. Thank you for reaching out so that I can reach back. Thank you for not giving up. I won't either.