New World (Part 5) – A Poetry Journal

2-13-22 – 10:03 a.m.

The crucifix over my desk reminds me that I’m a small part of a larger whole among the billions of people on earth. I don’t go to church. Nor do I even know if I believe in Jesus. But my Catholic roots have stayed with me. No matter how terrible the Church has been, the traditions still speak to me.

My dreams speak to me, too. The moon was bright in the sky last night. I’m not sure what phase it was in, but it was partially concealed. I’ve read before about how the moon is so powerful it can affect our moods. This makes sense since it often affects the tides in the sea. When she is in Texas this week, we’ll both look up and see the same glowing orb. It will bring me comfort.

I am working too hard; I need to relax more. The temperature has dropped about thirty degrees overnight; it’s snowing outside. The first signs of spring have become evident lately. Spring is a complicated season for bipolar. Many suffer from mania during this season. Conversely, I sometimes suffer from depression. I prefer winter when the cold and dark match my personality.

Technology and society are moving very fast. I’m always connected. I need to step away from my screens and give my soul time to rest. Protestors in Canada, a possible Russian invasion of Ukraine. All these things are absurd. And they have little bearing on my life, so stop pretending like they do.

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