Now

One of my favorite parts of my treatment program has been art therapy. It's given me a chance to reconnect to a creative side of myself that's been dormant for quite some time. I have the freedom to work with a variety of media, never limited to what the "assignment" might be. I rarely follow instructions from the therapist. He's ok with that, I'm happy and the outcome is always something that I'm both proud of and humbled by.

One particular day, we were doing some kind of collage. Usually, I'm all about collage: creating something new from something old. But this day, I just wanted to write. So I grabbed newsprint and did that, jotting this poem in a makeshift book. I like that my "presence" stands out against the noise of the page. Isn't that what being present really is? Transcending the noise and distractions, focusing on just the here and now.

So here are photos of the original project and slightly edited verse from that book:















Practicing presence against the staccato tears of paper,
the swipes of black pen on (blank) white sheets,
shear of scissors across tissue thin pages,
fiber against fiber, crumpled balls of frustration, freedom.

[Breathe, Jennifer. Breathe.]

This pulp become the pulse of my life,
anchoring me in the Here. The Now.
What comes before. What comes after.
Nothing more that the flutter of this paper storm.