The meadow and the mind

I have this deep feeling that I’m meant to move with grace.

I think we all do, deep down —

that we’re meant to spend time in meadows and picking flowers, purposefully getting lost, while bathing in unscripted love.

But right now, I’m not in that meadow.

It’s been raining in my heart.

In moments like these, I let my ego take the stage — which works absolutely perfectly: numbing.

She has old eyes and a young soul, and walks around screaming

because that’s truly the only language she speaks.

I yearn for flowers to grow in all the saddest parts of me,

so the crows will stop hurting me and thoughts stop thinking

and then — all I do is feel.

How strange and how lovely,

to be so dark and so light

all in one.

I distract myself by holding tightly to this belief:

that there must be a happy place

meant just for me.

Until I was twenty-one, I never got myself tested.

I grew up with the mentality that “if everyone else can do it, I can too.”

So there I’d go, afraid that once again I’d forgotten something so simple, or that once again,

I’d say the wrong thing.

So, I left the building with the labels ADHD, a panic disorder, and OCD.

Great.

It did made sense. At times, my boyfriend would look at me, ‘where are you with your thoughts? I feel like you're somewhere else.’ And I was.

And I remember certain panic attacks I have had, once I was wearing these too tight jeans and a red, cotton shirt, sitting at the dinner table of my parents. I thought an ocean was swallowing me from the inside. Holding my breath after I convinced myself I did something wrong — Already learning to disappear when I thought I'd messed up.

Don't believe your thoughts! It's your ADHD. Don't overeat! It's your OCD. Don't worry so much! It's your panic disorder.

How strange and how lovely,

to be so rigid and so chaotic

all in one.

Now, I try hard.

So hard to see all challenges as blessings — lessons guiding me.

Because the Universe has a plan, and I’m just here to become more human.

But when all the signs are so dim, I find it hard, at times,

to keep faith.

Then I realize again:

you’ll only be truly free when you recognize that the cage you’re in

is made of your own thinking thoughts.

You’re only truly lost when you start believing them —the screaming of the ego.

Which translates to you’re the one keeping yourself prisoner.

So maybe I should see my shortcomings as windows to my soul. How else does light enter you?

Painting by Ivan Pokidyshen

So I keep getting out of bed.

Doing my best to breathe faithfully and walk with grace.

I am doing okay.

Somewhere, there’s a house on a hill,

with a soft river passing by,

where I can frolic all day and bathe in unscripted love.

There,

I can be so dark and so light

all in one.