Bipolar and Acceptance

What does it mean to have bipolar disorder?

I was diagnosed with Bipolar I in college. After a clear manic episode while going to Temple University, a psychiatrist working on the campus prescribed me a mood stabilizer, along with the depression and anti-anxiety medications I was already taking.

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Desert-tan (a poem)

dear jesus, help me create

a life that’s noble,

not absorbed in the

hurry of moderns –

not clamoring for my

next fix – let my fix

be you, the real you

desert-tan & calloused feet

from walking miles &

healing wretches like me

(Photo by Robert Thiemann on Unsplash)

Embracing the Absurd

Every so often, when things get really crazy, I like to think about Albert Camus. I turned to Camus’ writings a few years ago when my personal life fell off the rails. Yesterday, when Pro-Trump loyalists stormed the U.S. Capitol, I began to think of Camus again.

American politics right now are definitely absurd. People have been throwing around a lot of words to describe what’s going on: unprecedented, dark, nihilistic. Absurd is a good adjective, too.

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The Center of Things (a poem)

i’ve always admired monasteries

monks cloistered from total noise

alone with demons

swimming in silence & striving

for divine union that no one

can name, but only point

to, the center of things,

the seat of the soul

(Photo by Josh Couch on Unsplash)

Rejoice! (a poem)

come join this feast!

bring broken souls,

rejoice before a table of treats

we’ll set a fire above stones

dance around it

with wild guilt

watch us twist & turn –

shaman beat their chests

children laugh with glee

night falls, the fire rises

the feast at its last course

time for the children to hide

as we carry on

(Photo by Joshua Newton on Unsplash)

Note: This is a collaborative poem I did with Rachel. I wrote a couple lines and then she wrote a couple lines. We plan to do more and share them – it was fun!

Silence of Winter (a poem)

the silence of winter is not

such a terrible thing –

graying snowbanks by roadsides

reduced to slush & a thick sky

cold & like the finest cotton,

naked trees, dying leaves

hanging for dear life

reminding me of sledding down

icy hills, red plastic breaking

leaving shards to be buried below

like black bears snuggled in

warm caves

(Photo by Fabrice Villard on Unsplash)

Hunger (a poem)

hunger inside for spiritual things

which the world cannot bring

for totality that never comes

& doesn’t exist in this dimension –

restless in this sack of flesh

yearning to be away from the present moment

& its insatiable demands

(Photo by Jr Korpa on Unsplash)