reflections on this beautiful and devastating life
 A massage therapist who neglects his body.
A counselor who struggles to receive care from others. An art teacher who won’t make time for her own creativity. What do these have in common? Throughout my time as a therapist and a non-therapist regular human, I’ve encountered something again and again: people who have chosen careers where they generously give others what they won’t or can’t allow themselves to receive. Sometimes we’re conscious of the disconnect, the very injustice of it all. Other times we’re seemingly unaware of the ways our life’s work includes everyone but us.
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I'm so excited to share that the paper-cut book made by Laurie Moorhead featuring my poem "Long-Distance Love" has been purchased by the Cynthia Sears Artist's Book Collection which is housed at the Bainbridge Island Museum of Art.
The slideshow above has a few photos of Laurie's book. The full poem can be found at the end of this post. Keep reading if you'd like to hear about how the poem and collaboration came to be.
This post was originally posted on 12/26/16 on my previous blog.
It was uncomfortable and exhausting and hard, and a profoundly rich and sacred opportunity. At some point in the midst of all of this, I had a thought:
There is something so intimate about saying goodbye. On Redeeming a Gift Certificate for a Necklace When I Hadn't Worn a Bra or Real Pants in 7 Months4/10/2021 [I actually wrote this about six months ago (October 2020) and then forgot to finish and post it. It still feels resonant, but there is a very different emotional and energetic quality reading it in April now that vaccinations have been underway for a while and the timeline for stepping out in the world a bit more feels imminent.] In the summer of 2020, I had the honor of officiating at one of my dearest friend’s (virtual) weddings. When they asked me over zoom, I cried instantly. She said I could think it over, but even though I was nervous, I didn’t need time. I said yes without hesitation. I was honored to play such a significant and sacred role in the lives of dear friends. And--while this was secondary--I also appreciated that it gave me something creative and hopeful to focus on in the midst of the shit show that was 2020, and the scary liminal space I was stepping into as I prepared to close my therapy practice.
As a thank you, they gave me a gift certificate to a local jewelry designer who makes stunning pieces from vintage china. Necklaces are my thing and there were so many beautiful pieces to choose from. My indecisiveness got in the way so I kept putting it off. Eventually, it fell off my radar altogether; but it occurred to me later that there might have been something else at play causing me to “forget” to follow through.
This woman is me. I had waited until the last minute (as usual) and was struggling to come up with a costume. Time was running out so I looked through my costume box to see what I might be able to pull together that would be good enough for the party I was going to that night. Miraculously, I found some-blood stained scrubs from many Halloweens ago that still fit. I was delighted when I realized the entire costume could be pulled together with just a short trip to Walgreens.
“But, face masks?" I thought,"How would I ever get through an entire box of these???”
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authorfara tucker (she/her) is a poet, copywriter,life cycle celebrant, former therapist, and current therapy client. archives
September 2022
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