february: notice
Before March 2020, we couldn’t have possibly imagined the absolute chaos, destruction, and suffering this pandemic would bring about. Two years later, we now have more memories, a different perspective of the world, a deeper understanding, and completely new avenues in which to imagine. The question is now–how do we integrate and understand those experiences so as to build a future that we not only need, but also desire?
january: notice
Everyone I know is at their wits end because there seems to be no logical thinking coming from authority figures who could actually help keep us safe from a still-deadly-or-at-least-debilitating virus. We’re masked, vaxxed, boosted, and distanced, so now what…?
december: notice
If that drink after work with friends leaves you emotionally and physically hungover, is it really celebrating anything at all or is it just repeating an easy pattern that solves a short-term problem, denying anything deeper? Maybe even start by defining what celebrations mean to you, because for some people it might include some shedding of energy or health. For me, it has to be replenishing. I cannot wake up the next morning exhausted and feel as if any celebration was actually accomplished.
november: notice
Death cannot have just one definition because the meaning of our existence can be defined in as many ways as it can be experienced; so is true of death. And other people’s lives can (and should) impact us and affect our view of life just as their passing has the potential to do so, as long as we open ourselves up to the grief they inspire.
november: intention
But the ultimate truth is that my relationship with death, like most any relationship, is rather complicated. It ebbs and flows the more I see of it and the greater contexts in which I can relate to it. Finding it in the snack aisle at the grocery store or feeling death as a kiss by a gust of wind. Sometimes it is sweet and other times haunting.
october: notice
It is much easier to divide our worldly existence between the times we suffer and the times we breathe easily, rather than accept a holistic view that work, politics, family, climate crisis, and all else co-exist with our moments of pleasure and ease.
september: notice
No matter what creed, country, or disability, each of us has been born into this carbon-based existence. We all rely on plants to take our exhales and turn them into inhales. Each human being has lived under the same decaying ozone layer. This realization of dependence on shared resources makes me wonder how anyone could be indifferent to the survival and quality of life of anyone else...and yet that is not the reality I see when I stare into the void of a screen.
july notice
Knowing which tools you have and when you usually reach for them seems like such a simple and subconscious process, but when you shed light onto it, gaining intimate knowledge of yourself, more tools (and breathing room) reveal themselves to you. Tumultuous times lose their once-loud message of, “this is the end of the world,” so you can hear yourself respond to the more potent questions of, “what can I do in this moment?” and, “what do I actually need?”
june notice
Healing is personal and interpersonal, happening individually and collectively (often simultaneously).
may notice
resources + prompts to help you notice your relationship with control
