I want to write...

I want to write, but more than that, I want to bring out all kinds of things that lie buried deep in my heart. - Anne Frank,The Diary of a Young Girl

When President Trump was elected, I was deeply disheartened and felt I would sink deeper into the depression I was already experiencing. I kept seeking for something to hold onto. A memory of reading Anne Frank’s The Diary of a Young Girl kept arising. It felt like a gentle reminder to not only endure the hardships, to live them with grace, lightness and humor. While I feel like I have somewhat of a handle on grace or at least know what it feels like, lightness and humor are less natural for me. Serious and witty might be more my natural style. These qualities have there place, though I felt a need for my well being to create more opportunities for lightness and humor. It seemed like the antidote to diving deeper into despair.

I came up with creative ways to cultivate this, ways that felt like me - allowed me to express myself. I started regularly going for gel manicures with nail art at Hello Birdie in North Park. This took a lot of courage from me to negotiate the nail art - asking for what I wanted, and at times allowing the artist to say no. We then navigated my vision and her skills in a way that met us both. This monthly experience built a social network for me with a group of women who were honest and funny and caring.

When I was home a few weeks ago, I grabbed my ancient copy of The Diary of Anne Frank with the “this book belongs to” sticker on the inside cover. I cared so much for my books that this one is covered in that protective sticky wrap. I’m slowly making my way through this one when I feel I need a pick me up. How bizarre that I turn to a book written by someone living through the Holocaust as a pick me up? This young woman was wise and resilient in ways I can only aspire to.