The descent into autumn

Which precedes the hellish fall

Into abysmal winter

Has somehow

Slightly eluded me this year…

Yes, I am one sleepy sloth 

Some days, but…

I’m painting 

And writing 

And thinking as I listen to

The smartness that is

Brenée Brown discussing

Shame and numbing and vulnerability 

And I’m thinking less of death

Less that I’m worthless 

Less that I need someone 


To please


Save me

Because somehow,

Not entirely sure how,

I started to save myself 

I started to dream,

And hope

And not temper joy with a certainty that it was

Prelude to failure

I started to learn about

Being in the driver’s seat

When dealing with emotional

Bullshit from supposed friends,

Or decades of ingrained 

“Well meaning” cuts and slices

From those closer


In claiming my voice,

In taking risks 

And sharing with the world,

I began to make connections 

To others

And myself 

And I wrote myself 

A new path

Into the colors and beauty 

That are November 

In this 

Upstate life
(Photos by artist & photographer, Jill Lian)


2 thoughts on “November 

  1. It’s me Jen, Pat – and this is wonderful – so rich and empowering …. you have overcome the hardest part – realizing that no matter how much we think and want it – no one has the power or means to save us – but ourselves. Hard yes, but true – and I’m really glad that you have the support – the true support and help that you need, as you need it – because no one can walk it alone …. so beautiful words, and yes, keep writing, painting and unlearning and learning your truthful new words and love.

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