I push against it. Challenge it, like a warrior intent on proving that I am indestructible, unwilling to flinch.

 If I ignore it, I tell myself, then it will cease to have power over me.

Except, bit by bit it gnaws at my edges, tearing me down and just as I’m about to succumb to its grip, I have a moment of clarity…

…recognize the invitation…

…that surrender is the gift, and…

…that the pain is passage, and…th-5

…in letting go..

…I absolve myself…

…of the need…



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Permission to write, paint, and imagine are the gifts I gave myself when chronic illness hit - a fair exchange: being for doing. Relevance is an attitude. Humour essential.

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