I am . . .

I am . . . poem

I See Sunsets

I See Sunsets

I am a thinker and a feeler

I wonder about space

I hear my Mother’s laughter

I see sunsets

I want to publish my memoir

I am a thinker and a feeler

****

I pretend that I can sing well

I feel enveloped by water

I touch the stars

I worry about my son

I cry over lost people

I am a thinker and a feeler

****

I understand my boys are special

I say persevere

I dream my son can walk

I try writing and laughing every day

I hope for love and devotion

I am a thinker and a feeler

It’s going on two weeks since this flu has knocked me down, and a doctor’s visit a week ago revealed sinusitis and facial dermatitis. The antibiotics are helping, but they may also be contributing to the “illness depression” that has gripped my body and mind.

This feeling goes against everything I live for. I’ve had the feeling before, and I know it will pass, but I feel as dormant as the front lawn. I need to blossom from the roots of this mini depression.

In catching up with my LinkedIn account, I read an article by Deepak Chopra, dated February 15, 2013, entitled “The Secret of Love (Spoiler Alert).” In it he states, “Love is a process, perhaps the most mysterious one in human psychology.” He further states that in order to find this love we have to look at ourselves. “The gift of human awareness is that we can locate the source of creation in ourselves (Chopra).”

“By going deeper into the self asking, ‘who am I?’ without settling for a superficial answer, the ego-personality fades. A sense of the true self begins to dawn, and it is the self that exists in contact with love as the only reality (Chopra).”

It’s a more formal way of saying, “how can you love someone else without loving yourself first?”  And why does this have anything to do with being sick and feeling depressed? Because I think this feeling blocks me from being aware of anything else, including who I am. I have to stop feeling sorry for myself and, as my Mother used to say, “get with the program.”

Here is an “I Am” . . . poem exercise that both my kids had to write in elementary school. I ran across it the other day and I think it’s worth sharing. Spare time is a rare entity these days, but it’s a fun exercise to explore “who I am.”

I Am . . . poem

Begin by describing two things about yourself – – special things about yourself. Avoid the obvious and the ordinary. Think of things about yourself that are distinctive. Once you have an opening line, you’re ready to take off. Here is a line-by-line guide to follow.

I am (two special characteristics you have)

I wonder (something you are actually curious about)

I hear (an imaginary sound)

I see (an imaginary sight)

I want (an actual desire)

I am (the first line of the poem repeated)

2nd stanza

I pretend (something you actually pretend to do)

I feel (a feeling about something imaginary)

I touch (an imaginary touch)

I worry (something that really bothers you)

I cry (something that makes you very sad)

I am (the first line of the poem is repeated)

3rd stanza

I understand (something you know is true)

I say (something you believe in)

I dream (something you actually dream about)

I try (something you really make an effort about)

I hope (something you actually hope for)

I am (the first line of the poem repeated)

I hope you enjoy the exercise!

Cheers to you!

Dana

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About Dana J. Dewey

I was a slow learner as a child and to overcome my fear of school, as an adult I attended many of them. I ended up with a master of science degree in counseling psychology and I'm a licensed mental health counselor who is passionate about mental health. This blog is about life, joy, and the pursuit of good mental health, and the eclectic way in which it's achieved. I'm blogging a memoir, The Tail Gunner's Daughter, and later, Parent-Able: Seven Strategies for Raising a Physically Disabled Child Without Going Insane.
This entry was posted in Feature articles, health, psychology of life, Spirituality, Staying mentally healthy, stories, Uncategorized and tagged , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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