16 hours ago
Morning pages. Three pages [on a good day] of stream of consciousness, free writing upon waking meant to open up the mind for creative work. A clearing of the “mental cobwebs” and to-dos at the start of the day. If you’ve never tried this, I highly fucking recommend it, and here’s why…
I’m not sure when it happened, but these 3 pages became something so much bigger than what they were intended for, for me. I began examining my dreams, my thoughts, my emotions...myself. Writing every morning became my lifeline and in that process, I became my own therapist—uncovering and healing old wounds, hurts, and anger. Anytime I’ve had the instinct or urge to shut down or close or harden, it showed me another way and allowed me to keep my heart and mind open.
Through these pages [and a consistent meditation practice] I got to really know myself in a way I never knew I could. It became a mirror of who I showed up as every day, for me and for those around me. I found my voice. But most importantly, it's kept me off the ledge [both literal and metaphorical] on more than one occasion, and brought me home any time the noise of life got too loud. A vital component in my mental health journey.
I will forever be grateful to baby Jess who felt pulled to that copy of the Artist’s Way in college. And for her curiosity and willingness to finally be vulnerable within the safety and quiet of those pages—something she was never able to do in a therapist’s office. Because of her, I’m still here. A stronger, more empathetic, self-aware, and kinder human.
Because of these fresh pages I encounter every morning, I am reminded that I can always begin again. That there is beauty, even in the breakdowns. And that this, and every day, is a blessing.
🗝 at New York, New York