Follow Good Vibes

I don't have enough photos of you, Which makes me feel a certain way. Happy because it means we enjoyed the moments, Without fear of the future. We had no need to document the seconds as they passed. No thought existed to tell us we might want to freeze the moment in time. It makes me believe we lived fully in those years. But now as my brain starts to have a harder time with recall, And as the vivid memories start to blur at the edges, I just wish I would have taken more photos. I wish I would have realized how important the moments were, How fragile our time was. I wish I had more than my memories to hold onto. I remember journaling days after you passed, I crazily tried to write down every memory and moment I had of you. I was afraid I would forget. I was right. Not that I could ever forget you. But I'm starting to lose specific stories I want to remember forever. I imagine that is how we continue on after we are gone. We not only live through the...

I've always hated my unevenness. But we're all a little uneven, right? Our eyes. Our feet. Our breasts. The two sides of our bodies are more like cousins than sisters. That's what they say. Right? Wrong. Research says that symmetry is beauty. Babies are drawn to it. Men make love to it. Magazines highlight it. Doctors will fix your unevenness. It's for your health. The less uneven you feel, the better. But I'm just trying to find balance. Equilibrium. My own sense of parallel.

Fear I grew up with a strange relationship to fear. It constantly felt near to me. Every new experience was wrought with an unnerving uncertainty. But I knew I would sink into self-pity and complacency if I didn't engage with the unknown. So I aggressively attacked fear. I armored up and fought my way through the distressing moments. I proved myself over and over again. I became obsessed with highlighting my bravery. I let fear know it would never win. And over time a form of masochism set in. I began to thrive off of the pain. I needed the difficulties. I had to have something to attack. The moments when fear was absent began to feel like the real terror. The calm was my personal storm. Safety was now something to avoid. I was uneasy at the thought of anything coming too easy. So I've had to begin to reassess my relationship to fear. The work is now finding out which battles are mine to fight, And which are mine to sit out. Not every moun...