Sometimes we become broken,Cracked wide open andRise above the livingLike storm clouds.Calling to us with distant thunder,Electrifying our bodiesWith bolts of lighteningAlighting the skiesWith nature’s sobbingHer way of bereavingHeavy with the water of grief.When her wind picks us up that’s The time I rise to attend to my garden,Through eyes unable to discernWhats weed for
Positively SpeakingSpecifically as it relates to having metastatic breast cancer, thinking positive may work as a curative for some. I’m not a reliable posit of positivity. I can’t hug the philosophy that a congenial attitude somehow will create a better physical environment to heal myself of cancer. I feel great some days, like shit others.
Can you love yourself during a global crisis? How do you live in a world in crisis and turn inside to love yourself? To do work on the self during a global cascade of tremendously life threatening situations is to turn in and find the faith to be kind, conscious and dedicated to be of