Low Lows

The full feature is (finally) up on Tumblr.

A little bit on my process, and what is going on:

I began this poem while on the road.

When I thought I was ready to share it, our country experienced significant trauma due to multiple notable suicides. I did not (and do not) want to capitalize, in any way, on that trauma.

So, about a week ago, I prepared myself to share again.

Then my local community was shook. A sweet woman I befriended last fall, who was a local shop owner, a patron of the local arts, and a fellow yogini, committed suicide. A tragedy. I decided to sit with my thoughts some more.

I will never be the person to claim to have some righteous knowledge on how we ought to conduct ourselves in regards to suicide, especially on any public forum. I am not here to tell anyone how to be a better friend, how to mourn, or how to take care of yourself or each other. 

I am simply here to share my insights and experiences with you. It is my hope that we can connect through this process of expression. We are experiencing this condition together, after all.

Anyway, so in the last few months, this piece has evolved.

Trying to balance my own work while caring for a loved one who is deteriorating has been a challenge. But this is the work I am here to do. It has been depressing and discouraging. It has also been sensationally humbling. 

I have been in a constant battle with my grandfather's insurance company this month. All of the formality around money and tedious paperwork has been an interesting struggle in facing down the human finitude of a loved one. You get to realizing how meaningless paper, and the societal matrices in which it is bolstered, truly is.

Meanwhile, my mother, who is in Virginia, just got divorced. She has been relying on me to supplement her income, because she is disabled, and struggling to get on her feet. My sobering reality in regards to money has actually helped me to mentally stay focused on what matters without getting wrapped up in financial anxiety.

My sisters are currently visiting me, and a few of my best friends have made time to spend with me. Not to mention, your support still carries me through these down moments between tours. So, in all honesty, I am surrounded in love, and I could not be more grateful. 

As you may have deduced, this piece (like most of my pieces) is about my experience with being; My high highs and low lows, and the contrast between the purity of being and being-for-society. 

This past weekend, although I did not really have the time or the funds, I took off for two days to hike and camp in the Poconos with my best friend.

There was a significant lightning storm for about 6 hours during the night we camped in the forest. The rain was heavy, the thunder was loud, and the lightning was about every 5 seconds. It was incredibly frightening. It was also tremendously beautiful. In the following days, I finished this poem.

The accompanying images were taken last fall, by Eric Alter, in an abandoned schoolhouse in Pennsylvania.

Thank you for keeping with me. Enjoy.