little sarah Big World

This Is For You (You Know Who You Are)

~OR~

Worrying ≠ Thinking

Hey there, little happy leaf

I am no expert. At anything, at all. I try to share what I know, because I have not learned it on my own. I have been boosted up and helped along every step of the way, a living tower of family, friends, and mental health care professionals beneath me, so that I may survey my own inner landscape with some distance. From this vantage point, I can look down and say that it is not all bad.

I can tell you that this, too, will pass. That this awful, binding darkness, is fleeting, not forever. The sun will peek its rays through clouds of self-loathing and dark fear, slowly expanding to shed light and warmth on your oh-so lovable (I promise) body and soul.

Of course, as you’ve pointed out, this sunny intermission will pass, as all things do, and the darkness will come again. Yes, it is true.

But I’ve found, or been gently guided to see, that if you hold to the fleeting nature of feelings, a deeper sense of self will emerge, grown-up strong, like roots from the hard ground. And those emotions will not be yours; they will be like a storm front, passing through.

Then the vicious cycle of ups and downs will seem to have some forward motion, the anger and nothingness no longer blotting out the all light and air, nor even competing. Just shady spots, just clouds, over smooth, still waters.

Your cup is so full, and I know that feeling. Negative, poisonous thoughts and looming to-do lists, frustrations and obligations and days where even happy memories hurt. A brain so tormented, and tormenting, that it’s like being locked in a room with a crazy person hurling the most horrible, personal insults your way, with no end in sight. Of course you’d do anything to get away from that person. I know, because I have been that person, have wanted to kill that part of myself.

I know, because my cup is like your cup, too. All I’m asking you to do, as an experiment, is to empty your cup.

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Mary O. Has My Heart

 

Habits

~OR~

Teaching Myself New Tricks

~OR~

Lately, I’ve Been…

Latest Literary Love

Reading like I mean it. Devouring books, tearing through at least one each week, on the train, during lunch, before bed, everywhere. It makes the 12+ hours/week spent commuting pass pleasantly, and feels better than dicking around on my phone (though I still indulge in a fair amount of that).

Weaning myself off of sugar and special drinks. Oh, how I’ve bribed myself with the promise of soy hot chocolate on a Monday morning (a happy, sweet start the week), or a Wednesday morning (hump-day treat)…or a Friday morning (reward for a week almost over). But now I am listening to my wonderful little body, giving it what it really needs and wants to thrive. Be not fooled by the photo above–I’ve been resisting! Eating my veggies, and snacking in the savory. Like this:

Kakuteki Sunrise

Eating kimchi or kakuteki before 10 am. I crave the crunch, and the spice, to combat my sweet tooth.

Return Address

Doodling, drawing, penning and posting (the old fashioned way). I forgot how sweet it is to be simply creative. To make something with my heart and hands, then send it off and say goodbye. It’s a modest endeavor, but it makes me feel “like a child stringing beads in kindergarten–happy, absorbed, and quietly putting one bead on after another.”

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Support My Mania, Please

Kobe Colored Sky

The urge to create beautiful things is so strong in me. Letters and words, pictures, postcard, shapes, colors, curves, and praise. I want to leave a beautiful mark. Explode into the sky like a firework blossom, and sparks of light float down everywhere.

Colors & Shapes
Delirious with hangover right now, lack of sleep and too many tears. My eyes are dry and burning swollen. But my heart is set to burst. Pen to paper, and I could go for days, unquestioning. To-dos be damned; I want to FEEL, to taste. I want everything delicious, and beautiful, all art.

Tower of Pocky

Maybe these are my death throes. I’ve considered that. But this is what I must do to stay alive. Send it out of me, everywhere, every which way, and be free.

Correspond

~OR~

Things Said, Things Done, Things Made, Hearts Won

Keeping in Touch

Lately: postcards, paper cranes, jelly pens. Doodles, daydreams, dawdling.

Words between friends, and a collective wisdom that has been my saving grace.

Here, what’s been said (altered ever so slightly, to protect those hearts wide open):

“Once you are away from a person all that bad stuff that made you want to end the relationship in the first places starts to get fuzzy, then blurry, then it just disappears into the past. That is when you start second guessing yourself. Did I make the right choice? All I can think about are the good times?? Am I with the right person now? What the hell have I done?!?!? STOP second guessing yourself. You made the right choice.”

“So. Not doing REALLY well, but growing and changing and learning really a lot. We eat super healthy, and run, and cross train. We study when we remember, and play frisbee. We do our own things sometimes (my thing? Drinking while doing laundry and watching trashy movies), and then we come back together.”

“I wish you could see yourself! I wish you could see that you are beautiful and awkward and funny and dorky and intelligent and that you can do so much more in life and find new things for yourself. I want you to, like…get in your car and just drive. Drive off somewhere on your own and start new. Because your place and your city and everything will still be there, and still be the same, when you get back. You’ll fit back in in whatever way you want or need to, and your true loves–family, home and friends–will will adjust around you. Friendships that are worth having will knit themselves back together , or pick up right where they left off.”

 

Transit(ion)

Rain Tunnel Reflection

(Nozomi Shinkansen – Tokyo to Kobe)

*       *       *

What if there was nothing to fix?

What if I didn’t need to be working on anything

or Improving

Accomplishing

What if I am just fine, as is?

What if I have inherent value

even if I’m not productive, useful, helpful

even if I’m not striving to better myself

What if there is a me, a self, that exists beyond my labels, my relationships, my possessions and passions

A fire that burns inside, a small light

that is

in and of itself

Enough. Read the rest of this entry »

Yoyogi Graffiti

“Either write things worth the reading…

Up-stairs

…or do things worth the writing.”

Fall Colors in Yoyogi Park

–Benjamin Franklin

Momiji Over Bridge

Or post a bunch of pictures and quotations because that’s all the internet wants, anyways, and who can blame them? Ben Franklin didn’t know about Pinterest.

Talkin Bout My (Parents’) Generation

Free Flow Post

A day of letter writing and correspondences.

Hallowings

Apple slices, green tea, reading in a tub for two, and paper cranes for the Autumn Altar.

Hallowings II

Things said, things done, things felt…

…and Cat Stevens.

Autumnal Sights & Sounds

Slices of Life

Autumn means apples. No pumpkin spice here, and I’m trying to embrace my immediate experience. Working with what I’ve got.

With Cinnamon

So it’s apples, and Neil Young, and Tom Petty. That is life, right now.

(Vulnerable spots in my life call for music from my parents’ generation, even if it’s music my parents never listened to)

After the Storm

After the Storm

The fields flooded near our house, where we like to go for brisk morning jogs or after dinner walks. Where you can see Mt. Fuji on a clear day.

Flood / Light

But today it is all golden sunshine and metal-tipped waves in the vast ponds that have settled in like a second summer where crops used to be.

I have no idea how devastating the waters are to the farmers, in this late Autumn season. I can’t help myself from marveling at the beauty.

Metallic Waves

Chad tells me that this isn’t the second typhoon of the season, just the second time they’ve cancelled school/work about it. In fact, there have been more than a dozen this year. Angry skies with lots to say.

Newspapers report 17 dead and over twice as many missing. For us it was much more benign–a day off of work, strong winds, heavy rain. Eating and reading and cooking and talking. We did yoga and went for post-storm runs.

After the Storm, Earlier

The strangest part was the middle, its eye, which was sunny and clear and calm as anything. If you didn’t know better, you’d think it was all over, never suspecting the looming clouds and violent gusts ready to return, full-force, before tapering off again. A corner, a tear escaping, then eyes shut, eyes open, sparkling and renewed.

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