oh jules,
with all this talk of joy
sometimes it is still
sadness that feels
foremost.

but, the gift of
tracking moods
and cycles and
cataloguing joy
is the reminder that
all of it is there
all of it comes and goes

i love the title of
miriam toews’ novel:
“all my puny sorrows”

it is fascinating to me
that on this canvas of
tumult, there is still always
a personal layer of joy
and of pain

in the midst of a pandemic,
an election, climate change,
injustice, famine….
all the massive global struggle

there is still this layer of
personal sadness

for me. and so many others.

it does feel puny sometimes
puny yet consuming

and i don’t even say this to
minimize my own pain,
because, it is puny.
but it is mine.
and it hurts.

oh jules,
i know you know
the colours, the palette
of this loss
this lost-ness
this disorientation

i thought i would have found
my way by now

i’m usually good at letting
things go… i think…
sometimes too good

i’m good at holding onto people
but loosely. lightly.
tethered by the strands that
bind us. but not yoked.

but i was yoked.
and now i feel severed.

so. i’m trying just to feel it.

i had a cave day this weekend
it only last about 24hrs,
not even
yet amazing how those dark
minutes can feel eternal

but then i emerged
and baked bread
and cozy garden curry
and turmeric ginger shots

joy.

my sorrows are puny
but they are mine
so i’ll shelter them
from the voice that points
at a big wide world

all the big wide deep sorrows

i’ll hold them close
but with open hands
set them free but
not toss them away

the world is full of terrible
and beautiful things

immense and puny sorrows

great and small joys

and here we are
in the midst

here i am.

i am here.

(the cover photo isn’t mine…. isn’t it incredible?? photo credit: julie rae diyen)