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Time to Thaw

Inside of my frozen parts, there was always deep sadness and grief waiting to be felt when the thaw came.

Dearest Doodle Soupsters,

The drawing below, titled "Disappearing Act," is part of my new series of artwork, Love Letters to Mother Earth.

drawing by Nicole Javorsky

My disappearing act was a way of disconnecting from my truth, a way of freezing parts of myself until I reached a point in my life when I could grab back the reins and truly heal. Living with this disconnection felt like constantly losing touch with who I am, my own memories, my vibrance, and my aliveness.

I am reminded of a poem that I wrote a few months ago, "I am thawing" -

What to sing,

When I cannot seem to

Mutter a word of

This feeling?

Frozen, aching,

Burning, breaking,

Falling apart to

Come back together.

My dead leaves

Fall and gather at my feet.

Crunch, crunch -

Old thoughts, sweet illusion

Cannot be. The idea

That I could simply blame myself and the

Reality would drift away.

The truth remained

adrift, yes, but within myself.

Subconscious returns to consciousness,

Known somewhere deep, now brought to the surface of these icy waters,

Thawing and ready for spring.

Inside of my frozen parts, there was this deep sadness and grief waiting to be felt when the thaw came. After all, a disappearing act is still an illusion. I cloaked my pain. I looked away as far as I could. And still, the pain could not disappear because the pain was not an illusion. The pain was real. The pain is real.

I feel it now - it feels like my chest is being cut wide open and my head is splitting apart and opening up from within. It feels deeply tragic and sad and somber and melancholy and with a sense of connection too, the feeling of being linked with some of the bravest, kindest souls who've ever walked this Earth.

It feels like destiny and bittersweet magic and duality and like autumn leaves turning colors and falling to the ground and remembering the longest winter ever and being a flower sprouting from the Earth and a butterfly dancing in the wind and dying and then becoming a caterpillar all over again and it feels like withstanding the peak heat of summer all at once. I feel connected to the core of the sun and the surface of the moon and every element on Earth. There is no fog. No blocking the truth. No disconnection from what's so real. Just pain and resting with it.

In grief and with love,

Nicole Sylvia Javorsky


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