Soft

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The birds have been impeccable these last couple of weeks. On Imbolg, Groundhog’s Day, I was blessed by a trio of flickers on the property. There have been hawks perched by the road, and the other day on my drive to Otis Perkins Day Park, I saw three massive vultures perched on a fence on the side of the road. They were not our typical “buzzard/vulture” that are plentiful on this island. These birds were massive. Then, this morning, right as I was walking down into the field, two massive bald eagles flying in tandem, flew right over my head. I can’t believe it, all of these good omens, especially when the world feels like it is going to hell. Are these birds here to teach me a greater lesson, like to have faith that everything is going to be okay? Birds hold ancient wisdom as they essentially descended from the dinosaurs. They offer a shift in perspective as they fly above our heads and see the world from an entirely different point of view. In their flight, they defy gravity. They are telling me that I too can defy the gravity in my soul; that I can fight the darkness that seeks to cover our collective human spirit.

All my life, I have been a sensitive with a wild imagination. Recently, I struggled with a minor episode with my schizoaffective disorder. As I arrive on the shores of reality once again, there is this striking feeling of me saying to myself, “So strange, all of what I thought was happening was illusion.” But there is clarity in waking up from a dream. I strive to keep a grip on reality, and sometimes it is easier than at other times. So many things can be triggering when I am in an episode, and I need medications to help treat my malady of severe mental illness. My illness is not a lie, or a joke, but much of what I thought was happening is. I am grateful for the support that surrounds me both in reality and out of reality. I have close family, a therapist/social worker, a psychiatrist, and I have support meetings that I attend every day. I am so grateful for my computer and phone that make attending these meetings possible. Mostly, there are other mental health consumers in my meetings, so I find great comfort in that companionship. There is nothing akin to the validation that one feels when communing with someone with a similar diagnosis, someone that knows what it means to suffer with major mental health symptoms. It can feel isolating to have mental illness. This is exactly why I speak my raw truth on my blog; in the possibility that a fellow mental health consumer finds this blog, reads my words, and feels less alone. Perhaps in sharing my “ugly” truths, I can help shed light on another’s life and struggle.

Outside, the thaw is upon us, and the snow is slowly disappearing that has dressed the ground for over a week. The birds are making a racket of songs of Spring. I feel my cold heart, my trauma, and my grief melting away as well. So much healing has taken place for me this Winter. I am blessed to be in love this Valentine’s Day with my soulmate of almost twenty seven years, my very favorite number. I was born on the twenty seventh, and if you follow my writing as of late, you may have heard me mention a family curse. Perhaps this curse is actually a blessing. My Aunt, was born on the twenty seventh of March as well, and my niece on the twenty eighth of March. My Aunt Michele is not doing very well, and may soon pass from this world. I hope to speak with her before her time ends here. We have connected throughout the years around our mental health and she typically calls me on our birthday. It is all just a reminder of sacred patterns and omens, as well as of the tenacity life can behold. Life too can be tenuous. We are fragile beings on this planet, we are animals; a part of Earth’s great fauna. We can heal. We can find solace in nature’s rhythms and seasons. As the sun breaks through the clouds and shines on me in this little room as I write this, I know I am tender, soft, and blessed.