Here’s a little poem I wrote one year ago, after completing an Intensive Outpatient Program for major depression (more on that later). It’s a simple ditty, but feels apt once again.

December
This December I wrap myself with cold and darkness as healing blankets
Crisp air snapping me into The Now
Now is all I have
Each day I delve deeper
The deeper I go the clearer I see
The winds of December whip away the remnants of my despair.

December is a collective celebration
and why not?
Why not join the uplift and anticipation that simmers like freshly poured tea?
Small comforts are grace to me.

Comfy Presence before a year begins anew,
when I plow through the snow towards a goal
of blending into the herd
Action is the word
But for now, only the moment is true.