Today, we hosted a creative session to explore our emotions
around the CODIV-19 crisis. This is our collective poem.

How are your emotions speaking to ?

I am your fear of your feelings.

I don’t want you to risk anything.

I am frustration.

I am the clawing in your chest, the prickles in your skin. I am an itchy scalp and dry eyes. I am your legs jumping under the covers. I am restless.

I am anxiety.

I make you give up. I am desperate. I want you to walk through the day very slowly, and then I blame you for doing it at the end of the day.

I am guilt.

I want you to play by the rules.

I am anger.

It’s either ‘I am all out’ or ‘transform’.

I am fear.

I am fear. I want you to listen. Allow me to be there with you. You feel me? Good. I am here to bring you attentiveness. Now you cannot pretend this is a movie. Don’t disconnect. Don’t change channel.

I am sadness. I want you to laugh and be free.

I am frustration. I know I’m important, but I’m working triple overtime here!

I am curiosity.

I live in contradictions and need the conducive landscape of courage and humbleness. I fit here in the mix of chaos. I am helpful. I belong.

I am happiness.

I will lift you up like sea foam in the wind.

I am hope.

I will drive a recovery of “us” rather than “me”.

I am the delicate balance between joy and anger.

I demand attention – lots of it.

I am anger.

When I visit please don’t judge, don’t question me, don’t avoid me. I come when I want, and I go when I need. Accept me.

I am love.

I just want to be there. Together with my gang members – anger, determination, courage.

I am calm.

Once I’ve quietened guilt and shame, I create room for you to think and ask yourself: what you want? How you can feed that?

I am the strategic “not feeling”.

The safe, padded room where no feelings get in, or only the gentle ones. I breathe. I breathe. I breathe. I breathe. In. Out…… a long exhale and I find grief.

I’m free.

I accept myself without any external excuse.

I am love.

I want you to heal.

I am sadness.

I stare at the ocean like an old wise man, like a vocabulary with infinite words to donate.

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