Standing on Ice

If there’s one thing October taught me, it’s that I may feel lonely, but I’m never alone.

From wandering through unfamiliar woods in Lynn Canyon to hiking on a bed of litterfall in Algonquin Park,  nature has reminded me that I am not that important, and I am not unimportant either.  I am part of an ecosystem that I can support or harm, based on my actions and interactions.  Performing, teaching and creating with fellow poets reminded me that the secret to the validation I seek lies in how others show up for themselves through their words. Every day. Through their unapologetic, magic-laced words.

 

And as I let go of my favourite month, I hold on to these new memories like wafer-thin leaves, the colour of wine gums (I compare everything to food), and debate when is too early to start sprinkling holiday glitter on everything.

It’s November now, and we are trading in brighter days for darker evenings, ice-cold drinks for mugs of hot chocolate, and light sweaters for heavier jackets.

We are teetering between autumn and winter.

We are moving– no– galloping– towards next year. Half of our minds are already there, leaving behind our failures and fears from this year. Ignoring the inequities and injustices we see too often, because we are focused that golden target of “Next Year”.

Next year will be better.

Next year I’ll have my shit together.

Next year the world will be less pathetic and selfish.

Next year I’ll reach all my goals. 

Next year.

All I have to do is get through the rest of this year. 

Well, hell.

*

I find myself trying to stand.

To stand on the slippery surface of what was once water.

I ask myself if I can truly stand without falling through and surrendering to the frigid darkness of it all.

I peer into the swirled glass I believe to be solid, to see that there is still life and movement underneath the hardness.

*

As we stiffen our bodies against the cold and turn away from this year, we forget that there is blood still moving under the surface.

We still have work to do.

We have to stand on ice.

And if there’s anything I know, it’s that if we don’t want to fall,

we have to link arms.

 

 

 

Notebook

P.S

if you’re in Toronto & need a little community and creativity in your life,  join me for Chaat, Chai & Creativity. 

 

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One Comment Add yours

  1. Beautiful photographs! And very nice read! 🙂 ❤

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