They say depression is like being colorblind but being told how colorful the world is.

For me depression is like being a painter with so many brilliant colors that only I can see, having nobody to share my masterpieces with, and worse, having them see only darkness and misunderstand.

Depression is when you stop trying to paint, because if nobody hears a tree fall in the forest, did it really fall?

They say boundaries protect your inner spirit and keep it pure, and protecting boundaries, not out of fear, but because it is how you can be truly near.

Every once in a while I find a spark, I see someone else struggling to find their voice,
Acceptance of this impossible experience of life without choice...

I find someone that can see the meaning in madness; Our hands covered in scars and callouses from all our efforts don't look ugly, they look divine.

The smallest observance in the delay it takes them to smile reveals a sadness deeper than the nile.

And in this river we dance, and while at times singing is happening, at times loving is happening, all the while, healing is happening.

If we put up walls around our divine, when can we see all the beautiful colors that are only created from blending our paint together? Yet we must protect and cherish the colors that exist inside, that can grow only from the safety of such walls.

How many kingdoms are behind the door that only opens to a yes?
How many kingdoms of serenity and purity are lost when we fail to say no?

Would you like to join us for dinner and dancing?
My home is open to you.