Mary-Beth and other things

Over on social media I’ve been sharing a series of drawings I did in 2019 imagining my mom as a mythical creature with whom I share my quiet moments. It’s reminded me how writing and drawing have really given me a way of processing my feelings. My therapist recommended I write out the things I struggle to articulate to others due to severe social anxiety, so I write the things I’ve needed to say but never was given the space to. My blog is my space, I share here to process but also share because I know others can relate.

I think the job of artists is to remind humans that there is beauty all around us, to remind us to notice and to feel, to be present even when times are hard.

Along with sharing my Mary-Beth series I’m also sharing poems by my favourite poet Mary Oliver. Her poems on life and nature are beautiful and comforting. When things in the world are distressing I turn to artists to make sense of things, her poems are something I turn to.

There is this new saying for people who are online too much, “touch grass” and it’s often said as a bit of a jab, but I think there is good in it. We need to connect with simple things like grass, birds, even a dandelion, we need to connect with nature and ourselves during hard times. Nature is still one of the few things we as humans have free access to in a world that is becoming inaccessible to those who aren’t wealthy. It’s ok to enjoy nature, nature is wealth, so go touch some grass, while you’re at it notice a flower, watch the ants. Allow yourself that simple joy in a hard world, take a moment and breathe.

If you haven’t been on my Facebook here is the first poem I shared about worry, enjoy 😊

Worried

I worried a lot. Will the garden grow, will the rivers

flow in the right direction, will the earth turn

as it was taught, and if not how shall

I correct it?

Was I right, was I wrong, will I be forgiven,

can I do better?

Will I ever be able to sing, even the sparrows

can do it and I am, well,

hopeless.

Is my eyesight fading or am I just imagining it,

am I going to get rheumatism,

lockjaw, dementia?

Finally I saw that worrying had come to nothing.

And I gave it up. And took my old body

and went out into the morning,

and sang.

Mary Oliver