Be Kind . . .

     If you have not yet read the heartbreaking story of Madison Holleran, I highly encourage you take a moment and do so here:

http://espn.go.com/espn/feature/story/_/id/12833146/instagram-account-university-pennsylvania-runner-showed-only-part-story

     A few days ago, a friend of mine on Facebook shared a link to her story. It's been haunting me since that day. A life gone too soon. An illusion of happiness built on a foundation of sorrow and overwhelming depression. A sorrow so deep, as to be unbearable for a beautiful spirit tired of pretending to be something she felt she wasn't. Tired of living a lie. A carefully crafted image of a life that looked beautiful to those on the outside looking in. Maybe even inspiring envy at the perceived perfection of it.

     My ability to relate to Madison's masked chronic pain was like a bucket of cold water on my head. A wake-up call. I could relate in many ways that made me squirm a little. Especially to her love of quotes. On a good day, a favorite quote lifts me up and reminds me to take chances and live my life to the fullest. Get out there, do things!  Live life, yada, yada. On a bad day, that same quote may make me feel inadequate and lazy. Mocking me with its curt wisdom that makes it all seem so damn easy and effortless. Just throw around some fairy dust and have happy thoughts, and it will all fall into place. Just believe in yourself and wait for the wonderful to arrive. Um . . okay. Still waiting on my fairy dust to kick in.

     Speaking of feeling inadequate, this brings me to social media. Another area that I could relate to Madison's story was the feeling that social media should project a certain image, not necessarily reality.  No one wants to read about your bad day, see the dirty dishes still in your sink, or read about the fight you had with your spouse. At least that's what we tell ourselves, justifying the editing and polishing of our online images. Unfortunately, it's all too easy to fall into the trap of believing all of the glossy, happy images are how life should always be.  If you too are not living a beautiful life, you must be doing something wrong. Sure, deep-down, we all know that no one's life is perfect. However, even the most logical person starts to feel jealous when perfection is all you ever see from everyone else. Even when we know better, the comparison of their sparkling lives to our own starts. "Why can't I go on a perfect vacation this summer, why aren't my kids winning all the awards, why can't my house be that clean?" On and on, until we start resenting all the shiny things we are seeing on everyone's social media. Our own lives start to feel boring and lackluster. We may start feeling mildly depressed without really knowing why. Forgetting that very few people whip out the camera to document their worst moments to share with everyone.

     The article also reminds me, ironically enough, of a favorite quote of mine: "Be kind, for everyone you meet is fighting a hard battle." Some credit Plato, some credit Socrates for the quote. I just know the words have an impact on me. More so today, than yesterday, having read this young woman's story.  A beautiful life on the outside, while a crushing battle was being fought on the inside. A powerful reminder for all of us. May her soul and her family know peace. May we all learn something from her struggle. Reach out to someone today. It may make a huge difference in someone's life, giving them renewed strength to continue fighting their battle. Whatever it may be.

     If you are the one currently fighting a battle, please know you are not alone. The biggest smile often hides the most tears.


     Suicide Prevention Hotline: 1-800-273-8255





   

   

     

The Birth of a Mother

I’ll never forget the day you were born.

Heart filled to overflowing, dreams fell into place.

Touching your tiny fingers and toes,

Memorizing your wee face.

So many changes in me that day,

the day I met my son.

A scared girl blossoming into a proud mother,

our connected journey had begun.

Slowly, the teacher became the student,

as I began seeing the world through your eyes.

Jaded vision soon gave way to

renewed curiosity and surprise.

Crayon colors filled the day.

The simple things became richer.

Each breath of air, sweeter.

Now feeling emotions for two, running deeper.

~ Teri Liptak ~

Song of the Sea

Warm sand beneath my bare feet.

Ragged old quilt folded up as my seat.

Watching the sea birds with envy,

Effortless flight, without care.

Oh, to spread my wings,

wings to take me anywhere.

Knees pulled into my chest, rocking with the waves,

The wind’s fingers lift and toss my hair,

tickling my nose, refusing to behave.

Clouds blowing in, a storm is on its way.

A darkness builds on the horizon,

Golden light turns to gray.

The crashing of the waves, reflecting my mood.

They rise, they fall, high and low.

The song of the sea, a beautiful interlude.

The smell of sea brine hangs in the air,

its familiar perfume, medicinal somehow,

a soothing balm to my wounded soul.

Deep breath, breathing it in, being aware.

Notebook in hand, my fingers begin to sketch,

Unleashing what’s inside me, putting it to paper.

Tension melts away, as my mind begins to stretch.

The sea once again has gifted me with her grace,

A gentle reminder to slow down life’s pace.

I am happy now, having spent time on her shore,

I am happy now, being with that, which I adore.

~ Teri Liptak ~

Now and Forever

Gracefully, as that of a rising mist, she hovers,

becoming one with the earthly night.

Neither bones, nor flesh impede her.

A gossamer being come to light.

Patiently, she watches for her beloved,

memories of her mortal life now a distant ache.

Cruelly forced to leave their world behind.

All tomorrows with him, forced to forsake.

Their love for one another, as promised,

did transcend the heartless cleaving of death.

A heartbreaking longing for his lover,

torments him until his last breath.

Suddenly, his figure appears on the pathway,

solemnly making his way to his darling’s tombstone.

Her spirit weeps upon seeing the beauty of his face.

Emotions swirling about her, the wind begins to moan.

In the rustling of the trees,

she calls to him from the beyond.

She caresses his hair with the wind.

Her desire for him an unbreakable bond.

A shiver runs through him,

as the wind gathers speed,

He swears he can feel her there,

As if her beautiful spirit is suddenly freed.

His love rises and surrounds her,

touching her with its light.

He says his final goodbye,

and disappears into the night.

Love surpassing worldly measure,

for now and forever.

~ Teri Liptak ~

A Heart Denied is Trouble

Sunlight tickles her eyes open,

as soft as a cat’s paw on her face.

A new day invades the room,

intruding light flooding her secluded space.

Gone is the dark in which she hides away.

Darkness, a retreating friend, slipping into day.

Daylight with its expectations and demands,

pulls her from her bed.

Across the room, an empty canvas sits untouched,

filling her troubled heart with dread.

An unsettling blankness staring her in the face,

reflecting the emptiness she feels inside.

When did her heart become so troubled?

When did her heart become a heart denied?

She alone is the author of her story,

No one to blame but herself.

Dreams repeatedly pushed aside,

unexamined dreams put on a shelf.

Each new day offers her a fresh start,

Yet, which path to take?

The possibilities paralyze her with fear,

Deathly afraid of making a mistake.

A heart denied is trouble,

it poisons the soul from within.

It forgets how to hope.

It forgets how to begin.

Game Over

Much like us, even the flowers you gave me

have seen better days,

red faces bowed down in disgrace,

withered witnesses to our parting of ways.

Petals litter the floor,

fallen like crimson tear drops,

punctuating what is no more.

Through the door and out of my heart,

walking away, not looking back.

“Game over”, I whisper, as I

watch you depart.

No winners, only losers

in this most cruel of games.

Love crushed in a moment,

Shattered glass, broken frame.

~ Teri Liptak ~