Issue 33, Reasons to Live Through the Apocalypse
Reclaiming what is stolen or lost with this second anniversary issue.
The last month has been one of forced recovery. With an aura migraine attack that won’t quit, for weeks I was forced by my doctor to stop everything cold turkey and stay still – something I have always struggled with. I tend to have a habit of running a marathon at a 100m pace and leaving recovery for when I have an absolute crash. In an attempt to get some more self-care in my routine I took up running a couple months ago and was introduced to the concept of a recovery run - a run that is done at a pace that is sustainable, even restful - the concept of active recovery.
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When you type ‘recovery’ in Google, the second definition simply states:
the action or process of regaining possession or control of something stolen or lost.
This framing has changed the way I look at taking time to recover - treating it as a ritual of reclamation rather than an irritating inconvenience. This month marks exactly two years since I started Found Poems(!!) during a period of intense burn out, as a way to reclaim my time and create time for nourishment. You’d think I would have learnt the lesson already but it takes a long time to unlearn deeply internalised behaviours.
I’ve spent the last couple of weeks in India after having to be away for two years, meeting my infant nephew- learning from his curiosity and wonder, spending time with family, unearthing ancient family photos and learning to stay still. Today I want to share with you a poem by Nikita Gill, that I saw doing the rounds on social media that resonated with this spirit.
Reasons to Live Through the Apocalypse
by Nikita Gill
Sunrises. People you have still to meet and laugh with. Songs
about love, peace, anger, and revolution. Walks in the woods.
The smile you exchange with a stranger when you experience
beauty accidentally together. Butterflies. Seeing your grandpar-
ents again. the moon in all her forms, whether half or full. Dogs.
Birthdays and half-birthdays. That feeling of floating in love.
Watching birds eat from bird feeders. The waves of happiness
that follow the end of sadness. Brown eyes. Watching a boat cross
an empty sea. Sunsets. Dipping your feet in the river. Balconies.
Cake. The wind in your face when you roll the car window down
an open highway. Falling asleep to the sound of a steady
heartbeat. Warm cups of tea on cold days. Hugs. Night skies. Art
museums. Books filled with everything you do not yet know.
Long conversations. Long-lost friends. Poetry.
Glimpses of Wonder
Every time I come back to India, I am reminded of how colour is so imbued in the day to day life here, even along slide some of the dullest urban landscapes. England’s grey skies would be ever so redeemed with colours like this across the skyline.
“A sprinkling of gold dust could revive damaged hearts, scientists have found.” This article was sent to me, detailing a new type of spray-on gold dust, to regenerate broken hearts. An amusing found poem if there ever was one, especially as it arrived just as I am recovering with the gold dust of home.
Fortunate to visit Delhi in Spring and find the local cotton trees flowering and dotting the concrete landscape with rushes of deep red — flowers the size of my face. An instant balm for recovery.
If you’ve enjoyed reading this issue, please consider sharing with others who might enjoy just a little bit of wonder or recovery in their life.
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Sorry to hear about the migraine, Sana. Hope you're feeling better soon -- and glad you're enjoying India!