“ I cannot think of anything more important than us dedicating time and energy to making sense of this crazy, beautiful journey called life. Together.”

“ I cannot think of anything more important than us dedicating time and energy to making sense of this crazy, beautiful journey called life. Together.”

I want to remember that is was all real, that we happened, that we were here, that we mattered.

Sharing ideas of mindfulness, compassion and gratitude through a marriage of personal practice and professional expertise.

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July 2, 2018

41

As I enter into my 41st year, I felt a sudden desire to return here to my blog and write. It has been awhile. I have shared poems and other words on social media, and a few here as well. But, it has been some time since I have sat down to reflect, write out

Instagram

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Today was a day
of sleeping in
and a long afternoon nap.
Dark chocolate,
Peanut butter out of the jar,
pajamas all day,
watching a bird balance
atop a swaying tree.
A day of slowing the blur
of busy, of pressure, of noise
to do more and be more.
A day of listening hard,
of attending to
small, ordinary beauty.
A day of making contact
with one breath
and the next,
eye to eye,
skin to skin.
A day of remembering
how much I have missed
being human,
how much I have missed
me
and
you.

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I can’t believe the day is finally here—I am beyond thrilled to put my book, “Salve: Words for the Journey” out into the world. My vision and inspiration for this book comes from one source—my patients. I had a clear dream of wanting to offer a book of words that could provide hope, connection, and solace to my patients in between their appointments or during times of need. I wrote “Salve” for them, and for all of those people who may never step foot into the office of a psychiatrist or therapist. I know I have been blessed with so much wisdom and comfort from the ubiquitous books in my bag and on my nightstand. I hope this book offers the same for those who read it. I am grateful for my publishing company, Pager Publications, whose sole mission is to support physician writer voices. Thank you also to my brilliant editor @jenaschwartz, as well as @caycehowe for your foreword, and @nwestmoss for your gracious review on my back cover. For once, words cannot express what I feel, and what this book means to me. Thank you for everyone who has believed in my voice, and encouraged me to keep going. (Link to book in bio, available on lulu, amazon, and google books 💗) PC Mike Robertson photography

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A note to my patients and all of those who are struggling: On #worldmentalhealthday, my wish for you is this: that you know you are needed here, always—not because of your brains or beauty or contributions, but because your very presence is a miracle. Because every tiny, ordinary gesture of yours is an act of devotion when offered with your clear heart. Because the world wouldn’t be the same without your voice and the unique light that only your soul can shine. I hope you know that I am grateful you are here, and that I am inspired and changed by you. I hope you know that mental health is something we can practice and grow in every single moment, that mental illness is treatable, and that you are worthy of living your best life. Above all, know that you are never alone, and that we will make our way through moments of both impermanent joy and suffering, together.

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The other day, a patient told me that, recently, it is difficult for him to feel completely at ease...that nowhere feels like home. His words have settled into my bones since then—I think many of us recognize that feeling of foreign-ness, of discomfort. Where is home for you? With whom do you feel completely at ease? These are complex questions I have realized, and over time, I find that home and belonging exist more within me than outside of me. I create home when I listen closely to my heart, when i find the balance of rest and activity, when I am gentle with myself and others, when I take care of my body, when I read and write, when I look for beauty. I create a sense of belonging and ease in my own internal dialogue and path towards self acceptance. Sometimes ease comes from those I am with, but if i am not comfortable in my own body and heart, I rarely find ease in others. Sometimes home looks like markers and slime and card games and unopened mail, because it’s a messiness that I own and choose. The other question that has been simmering since this conversation with my patient—how do I create a sense of ease for those who come into my world? We can co-create home for one another, if we hold space for everyone to belong, exactly as they are. This is definitely something I strive to do in my office, but more and more practice bringing into small daily moments and interactions with others.

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I used to ask myself questions
like how I could reach
the next goal—
land that job,
lose ten pounds,
get the highest grade—
you know the drill.
Now, the questions are
a little more musical,
and perhaps the ones
I needed to ask all along.
How can I love harder?
How can I let you see me?
How can I fail more?
I am learning.
Asking the right questions
helps me live the right life.

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Perhaps it was a busy week, perhaps it was considering some new work opportunities coming my way, perhaps it was several conversations that unfolded this week around women and ambition and desire and how we find our center in the midst of it all. All of those hectic moments leading me to a quiet Saturday morning of sleeping in, watching the cat watch the clouds, feeling my breath, and following my instinct to do analogue things with my body. Write in a journal. Wash the dishes. Color. Hug my children. Read a book. Walk, slowly. In the pull of fall, I find it harder to balance my desire to grow and contribute, with my desire to be still, create, notice, tend. I am noticing what my heart wants to say yes to right now, which is often in conflict with how I am scheduling my life and my time. I am noticing the self critical voices that tell me i should be doing and achieving more, while intuitively I seek moments of solitude or deep connection and real conversation. Every minute offers us an opportunity to make a choice—what do we want to say yes to, what do we want to say no to, what is worthy of deeper exploration and risk? We can only ask these questions of ourselves in safe spaces free of judgment and full of truth. Perhaps the awareness that unfolds in the asking is even more important than the answers themselves.

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What if today
brought me one breath
of radical self compassion?
One breath of silence
from every inner and outer voice
telling me to change.
One breath of allowing
good enough to be
absolutely perfect.
In our relentless pursuit
of self improvement,
we miss the glorious, round beauty
of how things are,
how we are,
right now.

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Honored to host a community event tonight for @themhcollective and the American Foundation for Suicide Prevention. As we wrap up National Suicide Prevention Month, events like tonight—where we come together in the spirit of mindfulness, reflective writing, and sharing our stories—are how we plant seeds to end suicide. Suicide prevention begins with people asking the hard questions, being willing to have the difficult conversations, receiving each others’ stories with compassion, and doing it all over again. With our patients, friends, family, children, and strangers on the street. Nights like tonight inspire me to keep going in our efforts to rewrite the ending. In this world we lose one person to suicide every 40 seconds. Let’s do everything in our power to change that.

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Before you choose a team,
ready yourself for competition,
begin the race—
make sure the prize
at the end
is one you want,
one you believe in.
Today, I remember
the only trophy I ache for
is a slow moment,
an act of grace,
a gentle touch,
a love filled heart,
sun in the dirt,
words in the night,
me seeing you,
you seeing me.
Any other finish line fight,
that of more, better, faster,
is a game I hope
I never win.

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