…someone asked me the other day “what do you do and how do you heal when something bad has happened.” In my humanistic, arrogant way, I answered “I book clients, and get out of my house and spend tine with friends and…until it hurts a little less.” I’ve been thinking about that response over this past week. What did I do before I do before I had all of those ‘coping’ strategies? When I was a child, how did I process death? I write. Or better yet, I wrote. I stopped writing. I know why I stopped writing. However, I don’t remember why I never started again.
Now I blog about my work, the kids and teens I love and support, the families and funny things. But, I used to write poetry, stories, songs and journal all the time. I’ve heard this saying “it doesn’t matter why you stopped. It is never too late to start again!” I believe both are important. The reason you stopped and what brings you back to it.
Follow me. Can you see me? I am hiding amongst the others. I’ll wait for you. My breathe as hot, like the light. Can you see me now? see me. See me. See Me!
When I am gone and you can’t find me. I will be in the trees, in the light. Coming back to it is lovely. Light, grace, love and honour, follow me.
No fear. Be still. Listen. Love. I will always be where you find me.
Marj, the peot