Rooting out feelings of worthlessness takes a lifetime’s work for drug addicts, alcoholics, mental health and trauma survivors. When we talk about being “in recovery” or “doing the work”, this is the basic essence of it. Daily we are attempting to live in the world as equals. We are not less than, even if we have been treated as such throughout our lives. We are not more than. Often this facade is designed to ward off the hurt associated with feelings of inferiority. 

With our physical health and other areas of living we work to improve, it’s a series of small commitments. We often use words like “just” or “only” to minimize what we accomplish. Others make their accomplishments out to be bigger than what they are, or give no context to the assistance of others helping get them to where they go. Genuine humility puts us where we have never been as people who have thought so little of ourselves: on equal footing with those around us, regardless of what we do or fail to do.

Small daily strides to think better, with better actions keeps us well. We acknowledge our deficiencies and try to find new aspects of self definition. Some of us need to be built up. Often we think of our ego as being more than we are, but thinking less of ourselves is also ego at work. We lack the ability to see our inherent worth. We are valuable not in what we do or fail to do. Our value comes with being a person. Even if a twenty dollar bill is dirty or crumpled, it can never lose it’s value. So it is with us. Remembering that is priceless. 

 

This was one of the weirdest poems I have ever penned. And it’s the first poem that has snuggled within two covers. This work is so significant to me, because it’s published, but it also unifies my friends and fellow artists in a time of disaster. Forever. Our work will outlive us. And that is true legacy.

My poem was based on Zoom life. A new reality of the pandemic, Zoom has us buzzing in and out, like bees in a hive. The hexagonal nature of a honeycomb inspired the structure, each set of words reminiscent of the words I hear within the various online gatherings that became my lifeline during Covid Phase 1.

My friend Francis Willey is responsible for the cover, which elevates my heart to new heights as well.  These encouragers and nurturers and deeply caring creators held me through this time. Here we all our with our words, as fragrant offerings to the bringer of this holy pain.

https://pandemicpoems.ca/

http://https://calgary.ctvnews.ca/canadian-poets-try-to-put-the-covid-19-pandemic-into-words-1.5218647

Owning my story has been a slog. I used to numb the discomfort of it all with hard drugs, alcohol, self-pity and miserable people.

I hid. And still hide. Just less. Our patterns of coping don’t just ever magically leave.

All the things that make me wonderful and unique somehow became defects: my sexuality, ethnicity, mental health diagnosis. I skirted these huge aspects of my being that actually connect me to the hearts and minds of others. Past hurts associated with revealing these things caused me to shove them down deep.

You may not know what it’s like to be kinky (not totally straight ?), or from a war-torn place, or the experience of an invisible disability, or even being racialized in an extremely racist environment, but you have been rejected, confused, or hopeless at some point. This is where the similarities outweight the differences.

Your story is worth exploring. It is worth telling. And GUARANTEED it will help another human come to terms with their lives.

I invite you to come and explore your story with me in the new year in a small group setting if any of this is landing on your heart. On January 4, let’s go deep and explore together. Contact me today to save your spot: 4035963464