Earlier tonight, I experienced a self-generated feeling of powerlessness, but after taking in the air outside, I realized it was an illusion. Slipping into darkness wasn't real.
For the past several weeks, my subconscious mind has been working overtime to heal what hurts on a conscious level. I may stumble, then fall into dangerous thoughts that mute the pretty colors, but I have not missed a thing. I have noticed the tree on Broadway packed with singing birds, the love inside the embrace of a friend, the dimple on the left side of my daughter's face while she chews.
I've known for a long time, regardless of psychic pain, existential loneliness, violence and turbulence, that life is sweet. I've known for a long time that when you are standing in joy, you might soon be standing in grief, and as quickly as you slip into darkness, is as quickly as the light goes back on.
I can change the channel with my remote, but bad news will always play. So I remember there's hot coffee on a cold day, or a lover who made me laugh. There's a piece of music that makes me feel, and a painting that reminds me to notice. Notice the dimple on her face, and the birds that bring in winter, as I keep open my heart, when all it wants to do is close.