It has come to my attention that despite creating a newsletter about the everyday moments in recovery, I have been chasing epiphanies. I believe this is because I long to offer wisdom and insights that will cause your skin to pebble and tingle with awareness. In fact, one of my deepest desires is to be the person who gives to others what so many have given to me―a startlingly new perspective. Perhaps because of this I’m simply trying too hard and focusing on the wrong things.
For the last six months I have been a student in The School of Peer Support through CMHA Calgary and I have learned the value of sharing our stories. How oftentimes epiphanies are discovered not, on week long retreats of silent devotion, but in the darkened corners of our daily lives. Magic blooms when we are able to truly listen, when we can meet others vulnerability with our own, and when we can hold those shared words with the reverence they deserve. These moments may seem infinitely small in the grand scheme of recovery but they add up to create the most profound changes. You see, I’ve been chasing epiphanies and forgetting the most fundamental part of lifelong recovery―it is the sum of millions of tiny brave moments. And sometimes the bravest thing we can do is to simply stay in the present moment. I say simply, but as many of you already know, the staying and the waiting, can be absolutely excruciating.
So, without further ado this is a collection of my most recent moments. The thousands of glimmers that once combined, paint a picture of what it means to be living in recovery. You could say that this month’s newsletter the title track of The Everyday with Catherine and I hope it inspires you to shift your own focus and zoom in on all of the seconds, minutes, hours, and days that have combined to get you to where you are today.
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The long slow grin of satisfaction on his beautifully familiar face when, after a long day spent shopping for new jeans, he buttoned up the perfect pair.
Watching our pup build his cozy, little nest in the mountain of pillows and blankets strewn about our couch.
That I can now leave the aforementioned couch in a complete disarray with no worries and no anxiety.
The soft tender tears that settled into the corners of my laugh lines while watching Tiny Beautiful Things. How I was holding the book in my hands earlier that day and how I put it back on the shelf. How I can’t stop thinking about going back to purchase my very own a copy.
How Kacey Musgraves gentle voice can say so much and how some songs can make my entire body tingle. Deeper Well, Giver/Taker, The Architect.
How art can sometimes make you feel the emotions you’ve been trying your best not to feel.
The wonder of weekday afternoon immersed in a perfectly lit and excellently curated bookshop.
The comforting scent of a strongly brewed cup of sweet, milky Earl Grey tea.
Settling in to watch the clouds mingle with the morning sun. The way that both dusk and dawn are daily fleeting masterpieces in such vastly different ways.
The texture of the cool sand on my toes as I walked along an unlit stretch of beach―waiting for the sun to rise―and watching the local fishermen cast their nets. How they had all but given up when the youngest of the bunch made his way back out into the waves with steely determination. How I watched with rapt attention, and shouted with excitement along with them. How the sun cresting over the trees illuminated the scene better than any movie could possibly dream.
How my mind can conjure memories with such startling clarity.
Discovering Dole Whip during that same sunny getaway, seeking it out every day and enjoying every sweet, rich, silky taste.
The way my mind begins to rhyme without any effort at all.
The way the snow falls at 5am haloed by the rows of twinkling street lights.
The decadent feeling of slipping my aching body into a slightly too-hot, bubbly bath at the end of a long day.
The meeting of freshly laundered sheets with a freshly bathed body.
When my pup curls up to sleep behind my knees. His warm fur a treasured gift on cold winter nights.
Watching him find a bright, warm sunbeam to lounge in. The square of light illuminating his perfect doggy body.
Shopping for stationary. Hands drifting over the artfully created notebook covers. Fingertips brushing soft frayed edges, and the delicate scent of paper.
Starting a new notebook.
Finishing a notebook.
Making a complete mess of my lovely, carefully selected notebooks and being completely okay with it.
Knowing that soon the scents of spring will arrive. Petrichor, wet earth, blossoming tress and flowers. The morning dew on confused green lawns. Rich oxygenated air filtering through the windows and settling into our skin and clothes.
Only one more month until it’s Dole Whip season! 💚
Hi my name is Catherine and I love exploring the vast landscape of human feeling and the small every day moments of mental health recovery. I also write poetry and prose about my own personal journey of healing.
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"it is the sum of millions of tiny brave moments" 🙌🏼 so beautifully put! (Not me crying through the first half of this because I relate so hard 😭😅). Thank you for sharing your moments 💖🙏🏼
Thank you for writing. I love knowing you. ❤️