Speechless

I muted my social media account that is linked to this blog for one week in support of the Black Lives Matter movement. But now that it is time to go back to my normal posting schedule, I’m a little bit speechless.

What do you say to a nation of people that have been hurting since this country came into being?

What do you say to people that tell you you’re just wrong for being who you are?

What do you say to a people that have nothing left to give but still have to fight?

You don’t say anything. You learn and you listen.

And a lot of people will say, Bailey you don’t write anything political on your blog. You just want to be a light and a source of good.

And I say to them, this isn’t a political issue. It’s a human issue.

So while I am still posting, I will still be learning and listening. I will be posting resources on my social media page for this blog, @baileydaileywrites so feel free to follow me there.

Be safe and be well.

Love,

Bailey

i went to a peaceful protest…

This is Elyse Soleil. Her work and poetry are exquisite. Read them all. But most of all, read this piece and do what she asks.

Life's Outcome

Over the weekend, Facebook notified me of a Black Lives Matter protest taking place in Kirksville. I was shocked. This Kirksville? This Kirksville with the confederate flags and xenophobic posters? This Kirksville with the poorly handled hate crimes and microaggressions? This Kirksville?

I looked at the organizers. Two White kids that I knew, but only in the way that you sort of can recognize everyone in Kirksville. There was an emphasis on how the event needed to be peaceful. That rubbed me the wrong way.

I didn’t want to go. But I felt like I had to.

As I was getting ready, my best friend, who resides on the East Coast, texted me. Going to protest. If I haven’t contacted you by 10 check on me.

I texted her back: Same. One of us needs to make it home.

I didn’t have a sign. I didn’t feel like I needed…

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Be Kind To Yourself

This is TiffaniJane. She writes with a vulnerable heart and this particular blogpost is one after my own heart. Go read her blog!

TiffaniJane

Lately I’ve found myself saying some really mean things. Not to other people but to myself.

I have two sick parents and when I say sick I mean diabetes, hypertension, arthritis, vision and hearing problems, liver and kidney problems, cancer, epilepsy and the list goes on.

And sometimes I’m not my highest self.  The truth is…I’m grieving yesteryear while trying to accept today and sometimes I’m not my best self – I can be impatient and short – not at all who I aspire to be.

Here are some of the things I’ve said to myself – “Why did you say it like that? You should’ve just listened.”

“You should have been better.” And the most distressing, “What if that was the last time you’ll ever get to talk to them?” – That’s anxiety speaking.

Then one day, after an army of negative thoughts steamrolled my good mood, I thought…

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The Colour of Persistence (Evergreen)

This is Heath Muchena. His poetry is quite beautiful. I especially liked this one. Check out his work on his blog!

Love,
Bailey

On The Heath

free your mind to seed wild dreams
map the milestones then take a leap
everything else will follow
for faith flows as we move in perpetuity

embrace the toil
so that when your plans are foiled
you don’t forget that nature never promised the path to growth
would be evergreen

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A Love Letter to My Hair

This week, instead of posting new things I want to stay silent and instead allow other POC voices to come through. This is a particularly moving piece about one woman’s journey with her hair. I loved this post and I hope you do too.

Let me just say, this is the longest amount of time I have ever spent on a blog post. It is a wide open door into a hidden part of me that I never …

A Love Letter to My Hair

Exhaustion

Exhaustion can come in many forms and for many reasons. It can come at the end of a particularly hard work week. It can come after running a marathon. It can be a symptom of depression. It can be from lack of sleep.

But mostly, when we’re exhausted from something, then we are tired of something happening.

It doesn’t really matter what you’re exhausted by. It is only important that you remember to refill your cup.

So take a bath. Sleep. Go for a walk. Enjoy the weekend. Do something that makes you happy.

Just remember to do something for yourself and break the cycle.

Don’t worry. Take all the time you need. I’ll still be here.

Love,

Bailey

Anyone, Everything

I don’t know how you’re feeling. I don’t know who needs to hear this. And I don’t know how to make things right.

But if you, like me, are at a loss today: of understanding, of confidence, of words. Then I will speak for you:

You are enough.

You are not alone.

It’s okay to be scared of the future.

It’s okay to be angry and upset.

It’s okay to emote and not hide.

It’s okay not to feel anything at all.

Like I said, I don’t know what you’re feeling at this time. But I’m here to tell anyone, that feeling everything at once is okay. You’ve got a lot going on, and your plate is full. We have a lot going on, and our plate is full. So, drink deeply of your emotions and take one mouthful at a time.

Love,

Bailey

Early Bird and All That

Sorry guys! I wanted to take off yesterday for the holiday…so I did!

Lately, I’ve been getting up early. Which is not the adult me thing to do. When I was a kid, I got up early all the time.

But not since I reached my twenties. So, now it’s weird that I’m finally giving up my sleeping in schedule. It feels like I’m cashing in my adult card. This is what adults do, right? They get up before their alarms go off? They putter around the house with a cup of coffee and read the news? I don’t know actually, I’m asking for a friend…

It just feels like staying up late is something you do when you’re a kid. Until you inevitably get caught by one of your parents, and get sent straight to bed.

But I’ve realized something. You can be any kind of adult you want! You can stay up late and get up early! Which…to be honest, I don’t recommend but you can totally do that. You can stay up late being productive, and you can get up early and be productive. Or like me, don’t be productive during any hour of the day! It doesn’t matter!

Just do what’s best for you and you’ll find that that’s the best you can do.

Love,

Bailey

Coming Home Again

I just bought some books of poetry from the poet Nikita Gill. Whenever I see poetry online, they are mostly from Gill’s work. So I knew I had to buy a book or two of hers. I got them today and sat down to read them.

Guys, I already think reading a book is like making a friend. Learning their quirks, smiling with them, and sometimes crying on their pages. But reading poetry is like coming home again.

I used to write poetry in high school and college, and I thought it was what I wanted to do with my life. Now, I don’t think I could write a poem to save my life.

But I almost cried with joy when I realized that your passions as a kid and as a young adult never leave you. They just wait for you to remember and come home again. Poetry has been waiting for me. All I had to do was find it again.

So, go home again. Color. Draw. Write. Read. Sing. Do whatever that used to make it feel like you are home again. And feel like a curious child once more.

Love,

Bailey

The Most Excitement

Okay, okay. I have to admit that nothing is really happening right now. On a Wednesday in quarantine. And you’re probably like, no, probably not. 

But even if it wasn’t during quarantine, there probably still wouldn’t be much going on.

And that’s okay.

Because not every day is the most exciting day of your life. Some days it’s just a Wednesday and sometimes, it’s a holiday and sometimes it’s a day when you’re stuck in quarantine.

But it doesn’t make it any less special. Celebrate the little things. Get excited about the mail coming. Get excited about anything at all.

And try your best to not live your whole life on a Friday. Just because the most excitement in your day is something small, doesn’t mean it’s not worth something.

Love,

Bailey