I’m writing this now bc I don’t ever want to go a week without blogging even if -like now- I’m fighting off a depression that makes me feel more than slightly worthless. You can usually tell when I’m in a depression because I disappear…from the internet…from friends and family…from myself. I kept waiting this week for this malaise to fall away so that my brain fog could dissipate and I could write about all the things I want and need to but it hasn’t happened yet. Instead, I work so very slowly on things that don’t take as much brain power.
I opened a moving box to unpack on the couch (yes, I moved over a year ago and am still unpacking) and inside I found a kaleidoscope a friend made me decades ago out of wild flowers and stained glass. Somehow it had gotten crushed, one of the spinning glass lenses shattered into pieces.
I threw away the loose shards and considered tossing the whole thing but then I looked through it and found that I could still move the broken glass disc a little. Not as smoothly, certainly, but still it worked. And the shattered spiderwebbed glass around the dried wildflowers gave it an even more complex kaleidoscope. It wasn’t what it was made for, it didn’t work like it should, and from the outside it looked irrevocably shattered, but somehow -looking through the light- the brokenness gave it a perspective I’d never have seen before.
So I’m keeping it on a high shelf. Broken, fragile, perhaps a little bit dangerous…but still beautiful and unique with the right kind of eyes that are willing to look.
If I didn’t have this brain fog this post would be better. Or at least different. But perhaps you have the same curious eyes or foggy mind and can read what my broken head is trying and failing to say eloquently. And if so, I hope it reminds you that you will get through this, that your struggle makes you unique, and that even when you are struggling you are still beautiful.

























