Medicine for Survivors: a year of heartbreak and magic
is a collection of memoir, poetry, letters, rituals and magic recipes chronicling a queer femme of colour’s one year journey through navigating a painful break-up that led to uncovering many layers of trauma, magic, community, and self. It is dedicated to survivors of violence, or, I like to say, folks who are highly sensitive because they’ve been through 2000+ years of ancestral/past life trauma or some similar shit.
I am currently completing the first draft of this book, set to be published within the next two years. Please contact email@example.com if you would like to support this project in any way.
Below are some previous Medicine for Survivors excerpts that eventually inspired me to create a full-length collection of writing.
June 6, 2015
File this under your Mercury Retrograde Survival Guide: FemmeWitch tips for approaching difficult conversations that need to happen when wounds are still fresh and love, betrayal, beauty and pain are all present in equal measure:
1) look really hot*
2) be open to receive, accept and respect who they are and where they are at, just as they are
3) take permission to be yourself and feel however it is you are feeling, even if those feelings are hard for them to hold
4) ask the universe for support to communicate what needs to be said and hear/listen/receive what you need to take in
5) live in what is important to you and in permission to know what’s right for you and what isn’t
6) breathe and say, “this upsets me” if something hurtful comes up, instead of lashing out
7) remember to breathe, period
8) make plans to eat friendmade chocolate cocoa cola cupcake with maple bacon icing and chocolate covered maple infused bacon** and watch scandal with chosen family after the conversation is done
*as hotness is defined and felt by YOU
**or acceptable vegan substitute
May 21, 2015
for the next part of my life (happy gemini season)
I’ve always been crazy. I always will be.
I will always hear voices. talk to ghosts. play with invisible friends. write blogs for my cats. know rock bottom. feel bigger and deeper than bodies were meant to.
for the next part of my life, may crazy not mean suffering, despair, or wounds that take over more and more breath.
for the next part of my life, may crazy mean wonder, innocence, curiosity, adventure and magic.
this season i’m deleting all the poems i have saved on my computer – words i wrote on the brink of death, that i swore i would never abandon because words yanked from my gut were the only things that kept me here.
this season i’m giving away all the art i’ve ever made about women who were broken but did not die.
because i trust the survivors in me. i trust they want a different story.
for the next part of my life, growth will not come from burning to a crisp and rising from my own ashes.
for the next part of my life, there will be no hills and valleys and obstacles and struggling between me and peace, joy, connection and love.
the road will just be even.
and it will be a beautiful view.
happy gemini season ❤
May 18, 2015
“permission to get out”
[image: majestically drawn wings drawn with black crayon & shades of blue, green, orange, yellow and pink pastel. across the wings is written: “permission to get out of situations that no longer serve you.”
in blue ink on the bottom left is written: did the walls come down on your wrists / did the doors slam / were the locks changed / were you kicked out of home…?
top left in orange ink: or did wings gather you / and fly you away / toward some place / better… ]
May 11, 2015
Medicine for Post- Erasable Woman showing at Mayworks Festival:
1 – coming home to find surprise yellow and red tulips on my stove top from a friend; pictured above with yellow performance/altar tulips
2 – eating celebratory pizza and butter chicken with besties and chosen fam, talking about life, love and art until 2am
3 – sudden downpour of rain; mother earth says, “I needed to cry after that.”
[image description: a small card with a hand-drawn heart in front of one vase of yellow and red tulips, between two vases of yellow tulips on a stove top; various homey cooking items are in the background.]
May 10, 2015
Yesterday Ravyn asked me, “What are you going to do tomorrow to be good to yourself?” and I said, “I….don’t…knowww…”
Today I woke up realizing that is not because the answer is “nothing” but because the answer is “everything.”
I don’t want to live like being good to myself is something I do when I’m taking a break from everything else.
I want live good to myself and good to others in every decision I make – who I spend time with, how I do my work, create, rest, organize, make magic, celebrate, love. The kinds of stories I tell myself about myself and others, the kinds of stories I tell the world. How i honour the dead, let go of the past, embrace the moment, listen to spirit, fight for the living, dream of the future, feel everything.
How I take care during hard times – sleeping for exhaustion, acupuncture for loss, bad tv for comfort, cherry blossoms and red-winged black birds for regret, dark chocolate for shock, water and honey for guilt, lying stomach down and resting my heart in the earth’s hands for fear, laughter for rock bottom, singing for grief and anger, writing for wisdom and healing, dancing for remembering joy and strength.
Blowing a kiss to the end of each day saying, “thank you for the good times. onto the next adventure!” ❤