It’s easy — isn’t it
To look back on our life & remember all the worst
All the worst times of our life that always seem to come first

Like the first time — I experienced racism
The first time — I experienced bullying

The first time — my love was used against me
Or the first time — my heart was broken

There was a lot of first of “THE WORST”
But likewise — there were many first of the best

Like the first time — I got the job I really wanted
Or the first time — I graduated

Or the time I won my first real fight with ease
Or the first time a family member came home from jail surprising me

There’s been a lot of good moments
but I seem to have forgotten a lot of them

I’m doing my best now — to live in the present moment
—To soak it all in

Cause I know there is so much to be grateful for
—There’s always been

Like my mom choosing peace & safety over toxicity — for her children

No matter what — she never let fear stop her

She was unbelievable
She was unstoppable

She did the best she could with the hand she was dealt

Like getting that job that not only paid the bills
but also provided us with a warm free house

Or that one time she pointed out to her lawyer — how she was wrong

That was only one of the many steps she took — to obtain our freedom

I still remember the first time she met my little boyfriend

She offered to give us some money
—then suggested we go to Barnes & Noble
to drink some coffee

At the time it was so embarrassing—
But looking back now— She’s so funny
We were like 14 — Not 40

I still remember — I tried to avoid repeating history
but somehow history didn’t escape me

One day — I had to text my mom discreetly
I asked her to please come save me

I won’t go into detail — but that day she rescued me from hell

I remember the times my brother and I would go skating

Or this one time we decided to try out this game — where he had to try to make me pass out

& it actually worked — he did

Except I think he thought he killed me
I don’t know — but that shit is funny

Some of them were good memories
& some were bittersweet

I wish I could remember them all
but disassociation got the best of me

So here’s a few more that easily come to mind

Like when my first love never made me feel pressured
— Simply loved

Or when my second one spoke a prayer over me
That felt majestic & empowering
— Like freedom

Or when my friends and I thought we were cute — walking around the east side

Just waiting on the cute boys to drive by and say hi

Haha— those sure were the good times.

Then there was that time an important figure in my life somehow ended up in jail
Managed to post bail & still make it back in time to my baby shower

Or when that amazing teacher who quickly became family
Went out of her way to pick me up for school daily

Or when another amazing teacher who often went above and beyond

Was touched by some writing assignment I did
& surprised me with an unexpected gift

So yeah—

It is easy to remember all the worst — but there is also so much to be grateful for

I’m grateful for every glimpse of heaven I’ve ever received

I’m grateful for a badass mom & her vision to always
Push forward & succeed

I’m grateful for the village that helped raise me

I’m grateful for any friend who served a purpose in my life
Even if at some point — our lives no longer aligned

I’m still grateful for the good times & the memories left behind

I’m grateful for the short-lived respect & pure love I received —from my first love
My impossible baby

I’m grateful for the amazing son — my second one gave me

There is so much more to be grateful for
even from all the worst that were followed by the best

Or I don’t know — maybe fue al revés

Either way— I thank you God — My best friend

May I always be able to shine the light on the better side of perspective

May I continue to be able to see all the good that still lives within the broken world we currently live in

May we not only see the trauma we’ve endured through our struggling

But the perseverance & resilience we received simultaneously

So for both the good & the bad

I gotta be grateful for it all — and I am

a little toddler dabbles her toes in the Oregon coast waters, giggling and running from near her mamas.
her Portland cousins play near here with Auntie creating castles, jungles and rivers that flow the waves of the ocean waves and ecovillages below – the land, the sand interconnected to the depths of deepness below.
the sunbursts softly touch the reunion moments that cannot occur all the time.
sunbursts.
small joyful stands cheering for their favorite college teams,
swag outfits of hopes to hoops of dreams – we all have our shots.
for the beats that native musicians drum up to bless, to heal and to cheer the crowds to love,
the therapist who sits in her own softness after healing handing out hope through listening and assisting struggles of pain, finding laughter and humor to balance out the darkness.
the sunbursts come through the bubbled grey clouds that temporary pop up as life below saunters in shimmers to only be captured in the seconds that exist.
no tomorrow is promised.
no big kiss, no big hug, no sounds — so soak in it all.
soak in the life that leaves us to grow embedded in mother earth- panchamama and inti love – quechuan indigenous circles lift up and offer munay – deep love- where sunshine spreads limitlessly.

WHAT AM I MOST GRATEFUL FOR?
We Have A Technology Allowing Meaningful Interactions, Making Ourselves Share These Gifted Realities, Also Too, Especially For Unconditionally Loving Families, Our Roots.
What am I most grateful for?
If you’ve woken up and chose to keep going. Whether you’re in the calm seas of peace, or you’re riding the lows and highs of the waves that never seem to sleep.
What am I most grateful for?
To be able to create poems that explain the emotions I’ve grown in a strange dream that dreams to explore and release more. I’m grateful for my eyes, because there was a time in my life where I was legally blind for a week, and I remember thinking “how will I ever see what my drawings look like?” I’m grateful for the advances in modern medicine, for without it I wouldn’t have lasted past a few months without the creation of insulin. I’m grateful I’ve made it to 14 years past my date of diagnosis, and I plan to keep on goin, despite the lows of highs of these waves that never seem to sleep. (But always seem to dream) I’m grateful I’ve been able to come across the unsealed letters that reveal the real miracles that have survived and thrived through all types of weathers.
What am I most grateful for?
The family that’s handed me a purpose to see the dirt and to keep planting these seeds for you to read and examine, and to hopefully inspire a type of higher connection to yourself to seek the life that you deserve, and to know that each and every one of us are worth way more than worthless.

I’m forever grateful
That I am able to share my words
With people
And they often become inspired
By my positivity and willingness to share
Openly and comfortably
Everything I’ve been through
From heartache to heartbreak
There is no shame
Just lessons to be learned
I’m grateful for them all
Teachable moments that make me stand tall
I practice gratefulness every day
That’s why I’m grateful for everyone
I encounter daily
From strangers I meet on the street
To inconnus that have become great supporters
In any and everything I do
I’m forever grateful for restored love
Especially the woman that accepted me
And made me appreciate love again
Thank you for first being a friend
I’m forever grateful
For existing in a world
That doesn’t want you to survive
But I find a way to survive the odds stacked against me
Blessed to be alive
And continuously see
That I’m surrounded by the people meant to help me navigate this life!

The thing I am most grateful for in life
is life itself
my life. this life. me.
this may seem obvious, mundane, oversimplified
but not for me
I have anxiety,
depression,
complex PTSD,
and BPD
I always sort of shrugged at the anxiety;
worry is my natural state
and it always has been
it’s all I’ve ever known
but the depression, the PTSD, the BPD-
those came with time and unfortunate circumstances
the way they blend together and feed off of each other;
the fight is three against one and seems unfair

The little me in the photographs
she stares back at me so innocently
so timid and scared, so wholesome
she has no idea about all of the trauma that’s coming her way
she is going to face abuse and neglect
everyday for the next couple of decades
and this will shape her forever
I am grateful for this version of myself
because she got me through the hardest time of my life
I talk about her in the third person
because I never felt connected to past versions of myself
but especially the littlest version
I had to cope with too much back then;
I repressed so much of it
now I can’t remember huge chunks of my life
but they were too painful to experience the first time around
without having to carry the burden of memory, too

I neglected myself for most of my life,
never stopping to ask what I wanted or needed,
only concerned with pleasing others so I could survive
my default setting was a blank slate
ready to be molded into whatever the other person expected from me
this was conditioned in me
I was groomed to be the perfect victim
for anyone who wanted to control someone else;
a plague that would follow me well into my adult years
ignoring myself became so normal that I forgot who I am,
or maybe I never knew at all,
I was never given the space to find out
(hence the BPD)

I looked death in the eyes that summer
depression dared me to
BPD agreed
PTSD instigated
and I gave in
they convinced me that my life is worthless
and that I am a burden
how are they so good at that?
the overdose felt like a slow death
eventually I passed out
I don’t know how long I was unconscious for
definitely hours, maybe days
when I woke up and realized I was still alive
I was fucking pissed
I was immediately prepared to try again
I can’t really explain exactly what changed, or when, or why
recovery was a slow, excruciating process that I didn’t want to participate in
I guess I learned how to participate anyways
little by little, one step at a time
and the pain started to feel a little less intense, a little less often
so to be able to say today that I am grateful for this life
it is an accomplishment,
one that only came after a long and gruesome recovery process

I am grateful for the version of myself
that packed up all of my things
and moved out of my toxic environment
not once, not twice, but three times
in order to save myself
I am grateful for the version of me
that went to therapy for six years;
the version that took the time
to stare at all of my trauma,
find its roots,
and pour love into them
the way I always deserved
I unlearned a lifetime of self hatred
and as a 23 year old woman
I began to learn how to take care of myself
and maybe even grow to love myself

It has been a long, tiresome journey to this place of gratitude
I could never see a future for myself before
but now I’m starting to
so this is what I mean when I say I am grateful for my life
and I am grateful for myself
I’m grateful for all the different versions of me
that had to exist in order to carry me through
a lifetime of trauma and neglect
I got myself through everything
the world had to throw at me
without ever letting it take away my softness
or my hope for the possibility of something better
the fact that I am alive today is a privilege
and that is what I am most grateful for
I am grateful to simply be alive and to be me

A Thankless Act

I contemplate—
in a grateful state—
where to give thanks.

And it’s not long before
little me
is all I can hear and see.

Bursting with glee,
she decrees:

Wendy and Peter Pan,
Neverland,
those who lend a helping hand,
those not afraid
to take a stand.

Pen in hand,
flow-state
is where I land—
filled with child-liked wonder,
and free of fears I’ve shunned her.

A poem—
this poem—

slowly begins to take its form.
Its words are ones of warmth
that lull her,
hug her—
keep her safe from all-the-world’s thunder.

And it’s reading
better than planned.

But in truth,
I’m grateful for it all—
the planned and unplanned.

For every version of me
I’ve met firsthand.

Me when I’m mad,
but what I really am is sad.
Me when I’m glad
that someone tried to understand

rather than write me off
as “bad.”

The ability to feel—
a chance to heal
and give to myself
the gift of being real.

Grateful,

for the voice inside my head—
the one I used to dread.

Oh, we’d go head-to-head.
And if you asked my heart
to tell you the worst part,

it’d say
that there was nowhere to hide.

Hard to believe that nowadays,
that voice is on my side.
So, I’m happy-er inside.

Because grateful is what I am
for the will to survive,
thrive,
and come alive
that it’s instilled in ‘we’.

Today,
it supports the best version of me—
wants for me to get ahead,
does things like remind me when it’s time for bed.

Swoops in on a rope
when I’m short on hope,
when I’m hanging by a thread.

But most of all…

what I’m most grateful for…
is every decision
I can call mine—
those made by me
and me
Alone.

The ones I own.

For to them,
I owe this home—
the home
that is
she.

The only place I’m truly, finally
free.

What am I grateful for?
Often I feel shameful for not feeling more grateful for my disability
I am grateful to the Higher Power
For instilling the motivation and strength
Recognizing how I can use my disability
Sometimes I make myself feel dizzy
Trying to figure out why me
he chose to be looked at differently
I never think I will fully love my disability
Because I do wish my disability wasn’t something you can see
But when I look at my life now
I am trying to see something new
The good in why he chose me
Being one of the people whose disability you can see
So you see
There is a responsibility
To encourage others to see
We all have a “disability”
I don’t want self-pity
I just want people to understand that
“Your disability” just maybe
Your greatest ability
Thank you higher power
And everyone that supports me!

When I first started attending alcoholics anonymous (AA) meetings, something I heard a lot of people say in their introduction was that they were a grateful alcoholic. I couldn’t understand why someone would be grateful to be cursed with this disease. It destroyed my life, my relationships, my will to live. Why on earth would anyone be grateful to go through life with this sickness? It wasn’t until I had a relapse that sent me to such a deep rock bottom, that I had to fully surrender myself to the program. Once I did so I started to push myself out of my comfort zone, making friends, showing up consistently to the same meetings, developing a relationship with my higher power and giving my all to the twelve steps. This is when I started to see the promises of the program coming true. My fear of the world, failure, rejection and judgement started dissipating. My heart started opening up again and it made space for true connection. I learned how to be vulnerable and share the things I held in so deeply with shame in the past. I have developed so much gratitude for this life of recovery. I understand now what it means to be a grateful recovering alcoholic. If I never had this disease I would never have met the beautiful souls I have in my life today. I would never have gone to the depths of my soul and discovering who I truly am underneath all of my fears and pain. I would never have felt the connection of such a powerful, loving and accepting community. AA is my family and I am so grateful to have been led here through my struggles.

To the songs that soothe our souls—
Birds, who give voice to the dust on butterfly wings,
that set flight to hearts that weigh more, in life,
than this human body can bring

To the women, who hold me in their arms—
Mothers whose love gives birth to all others,
their lips, dripping with truths we crave to read
in the lies of men that can’t, who weren’t made to, bleed.

To the love rising from the ashes within me,
turning dust to nectar, nourishing
petals that sprout, even through fallen leaves.

To the mind, that relentless dynamo,
that wonders, even as I slumber.

To these hips I haven’t mastered
how to shake, that I call home.

To these hardy bones
I fear to break, that I know one day
will wither away.

To these eyes, I know
take me deeper
inside

To the true me, myself, and I,
I’ve always known.

To the one who reads these words,
a reflection, a shadow

That, beneath a fruit tree
already lived and died
longer than

You, or me,
an extension of interconnection,
sparks that lead us back to one eternal flame
from which we all light, and delight,
in one another.

To the hands that type, these words
into a device that may one day enslave me

To pen and paper that cramps my hand,
an addictive catharsis that gives semblance to

This life, this foreign concept,
a system my brain can’t think itself free from,
a headache, a heartache, all at once
felt and embraced,
yet unbound.

For all of this,
I am grateful.

It was hard to be appreciative this year.
It is always hard to appreciate things in life when everything else becomes so heavy.
I think maybe gratitude is just a way to remain hopeful through despair;
to remind us that we should be glad that we even have the opportunity to feel those feelings and have experiences in the first place.

Over the past year I was thankful for a few things;
I was thankful that I got a new job,
that my mom let me move home,
that I am safe and healthy,
and I can confidently say I was and am thankful for my cat.
At the very least, I should probably be thankful that I am afforded the luxury of being able to not be super grateful.
I suppose every day that I am alive, living and breathing, I should be glad.

Although, I wasn’t the one that chose to be here.
I have to face responsibility that I did not ask for.
Truth be told, I don’t even choose to show up every day; some days I stay in bed and do nothing for myself.
A while ago I just decided that I have to keep myself alive and learn the lessons of life.

I wish I was more grateful.

Maybe if I was more gracious of the good things, I would also react better to the negatives.

This year I tried to force myself to be thankful even through the things that made me most uncomfortable:
the things that made my stomach churn, my heart ache, and left the corners of my eyes stained red.

I cannot be thankful for all of the negative things; I cannot be thankful for unkindness, pain, hardship, loss, and grief.
I do not want to find the good in every situation because sometimes things just suck.
I do not want to appreciate these things because I do not want to accept them.
Sure I wouldn’t feel so sad right now if I was able to trust the process.

How could I be glad that I don’t feel strong enough to accomplish any goals or that my family members are spending their nights sinking into depression?
I felt weak a lot.

If I was thankful for every obstacle I have faced, I fear that I might get used to living life in this way.
I don’t think I would learn as much.
I need to be uncomfortable.
I need to wonder ‘Why me?’

Apparently there is no good or bad way to live-
there are only our feelings, decisions, and lessons we leave with.

I am not grateful for the lessons I learn as I am experiencing them.

A person is not grateful for air when they are being held underwater.
Sure they want to breathe, but it is about the action, not the object.
It is about figuring out how to take a successful breath,
and only once a person is back above water, are they thankful for the air itself.
When a person is left underwater panic instills and the individual is only thinking about the fact that they need to get above the water, not about why.

I can’t imagine anyone in the middle of a crisis thinking ‘Wow I’m so glad to be here.’
So what is one to do when constantly living in a state of dysregulation?

I am suspicious that perhaps I am not finding pleasure or contentment because I am in the midst of one of those big life lessons;
the kind that you look back upon later and see the change it forced you to experience.
Am I supposed to be grateful now for the what’s to come later or am I allowed to be sad?
Can I pity the world and still oblige to gratitude and hope?

To be grateful is to express thanks and appreciate the benefits received.
I was not very grateful this year,
but I am thankful that I am able to grow;
grateful that I get to try again.
I am indebted to the world, but I have an obligation to myself.

‘She does not have to always be thankful for what has happened because sometimes she knows she deserves more, or at least she’s trying to,’ I often think.

I don’t want to be grateful just because I am told that I have to be.
I don’t want the people around me to think that their actions are okay because things can always be worse.
I might be cynical, but I know that life can be a little lighter.
I don’t want to be glad with what I do have just because some people have less than me,
I want everyone to have more.

My arms; they’re scrunched up to my sides as I thumb my way through this thought. We sleep in one big bed now. Our bed, we call it. As it turns out, sleepovers aren’t just for when you have company.

It’s a feeling.
It’s a spot.
It was a time.
It’s yet to come.
It’s in my daydreams.
It’s in my breath- coming in and out of my lungs.
It lives in a poem my heart rewrites every trip around the sun.
It lives at my grandmother’s kitchen table and in the hourly sounds her clock made.

Sometimes it’s my feet in the dirt.
Others it’s in low lighting, having tea with a friend.
It finds me when I’m well.
It guides me when I’m unwell.
It’s what I didn’t know I needed.
It’s what I don’t know how to ask for.
It is peace, when I’ve surrendered.
It is joy, after sorrow.
It is laughter, while I’m crying.
It is closing my eyes, then getting to open them again.

It is in the seasons.
Coming with the sun rising in the East
And going with the sun setting in the West.
It is fleeting.
It is ever so slow.
It is all of the seasons bound together.
It is my life.

That’s it!
I found it.
What am I most grateful for?
My life.
Their lives.
Your life.
All bound together-
All of our experiences.
It’s in the mundane.
It burrows itself in my sorrow, just to bloom again with time.

It is my fear unmasked.
It is the ebb and flow.
It’s every year wiser.
It is slowing down, just to speed up.
It’s in my friendships.
My jobs.
My family.
My passions.
My failures.
My pain.
It is worth all of it, all over again just to feel it again.
It is in who I was when I entered this world.
It is in who I am tucked into our family bed writing this poem.
It is me, alive.

It is D.) All of the above

A sweltering Florida night
A room full of twinkling starry lights
The blonde in the little black dress
In a crowd of strangers, looking to impress
A year of joy merged into one
That day my life had just begun
On August 28, 2021

Against all odds standing here
In the face of doubt, mistakes, and fears
Then suddenly my pain made worthwhile
By ocean eyes and a benevolent smile
The one who all the world shunned
In that moment became second to none
On August 28, 2021

Out of that kindness came a vow
To be something greater than I am now
To rise from the doldrums of my malaise
And become worthy of that glowing praise
A promise burns brighter than the sun
And I’ll remember until my life is done
That day, August 28, 2021