Author Archives: April Lee

the woman’s brave hues

for the past ten days, i’ve been immersed in a very interesting creative practice, taking a journey deep into my body’s spontaneous wisdom. as part of a year-long course i am enrolled in, i was invited to “meditate upon the poetry of my mysterious inner life.”

each day, i set aside a few minutes to quickly pull from a magazine an image that attracted me, a picture that produced a strong emotional charge (even if i didn’t fully understand why at the time).

that direction

i glanced in that direction
and i wondered

what was keeping me from
proceeding down that way?

insecurity, fear, confusion?
maybe just indifference

what would change in my life
if i decided to go? or not go?

and what would either moving
or staying say about me?

undulating


 
 
TAPESTRY . . . weaving
the layers of my life

i thought they would come
together in the form of
storytelling this year

but so far 2024 has had
something else in mind
for me and i’m still
unraveling the “why”s and
the lessons behind them

an intense and daily
headache for six months
one continuous and invasive
throbbing that stole away
many precious moments

i felt myself fading into
the background, worrying
about the-worst-it-could-be

and just like that, now
it’s gone – an MRI with no
conclusive findings, likely
my maxillary sinus perforated,
a dental visit gone awry

VIBE .

your time is now

ciao! i have big news to share on this summer solstice day . . .

announcing the first of two retreats celebrating
💚❤️ THE ARRIVAL FAREWELL TOUR ❤️💚

THE ARRIVAL 2024 (#6)
🇮🇹 tuscany, italy 🇮🇹
september 16-21

 
 
and guess what?

what i’m doing

what i’m reading: the wrong hostage by elizabeth lowell, a place in the world: finding the meaning of home by frances mayes

what i’m watching: the saint tv series, season 1 (1962), starring roger moore

what i’m listening to: i’m not a fan of audio, but i am currently enrolled in two online courses: “neuro linguistic programming (NLP) practitioner / life coach certification” and “the art of healing depression” (with shelley klammer)

what i’m eating: cabbage & carrots, organic blue corn tortilla chips, pepitas, iced tea

what i’m planning: “talk & walk” one-to-one coaching sessions in wallace, THE ARRIVAL farewell tour (2024-25) at villa magnolia in italy
 
 
 
 

it’s the smallest things

it’s the smallest things. it’s the way she always uses my mom’s chair on the pink house porch to leave me tokens of affection. the way my orange pen glides across the page so smoothly and with such vivid color (and can be erased too – gone, just like that).

this poem

this poem is not what you might think.

this poem will not adequately delve into my oft-imagined daydream of a boho-chic lifestyle, 60 years ago in the 60s, in the avant-garde garment district of new york city. in an ultra-modern industrial warehouse loft, dancing with my two-year-old daughter named something fantastical like avalon topanga or crescent arabella.

nature girl

i posted this picture of myself a week ago, with the hashtag nature girl 2024.

i have never wanted to go backpacking. and i don’t camp out. in fact, as an adult, i’d rather be inside (anywhere) than outside.

i always thought this meant i wasn’t fully appreciating or embracing nature, so i set out this year to do more things outdoors, to pay more attention to the natural world.

what you need to do now

write poems about the sky
express yourself in fashion
think happy thoughts
move the energy through your body

celebrate the good days
breathe deeply, exhale fully
listen to the trees’ stories
indulge in soothing epsom salt soaks

what you need to do now
heal yourself

make sure you give lots of hugs
turn your face towards the sun
splash color on a page
and lines and shapes too

travel and dance and stretch and flow
talk to people who inspire you
journal and process your feelings
frolic with the waves

what you need to do now
heal yourself

walk and explore your town
eat foods that nourish and restore
study the patterns
recognize the immense bravery

collage only the highlights
scrub away the fear
smile and laugh and laugh and smile
say an ardent goodnight to the moon

what you need to do now
heal yourself

 
 

 
 
 
 

meanwhile the world goes on

meanwhile the world goes on . . . but how can it? when your own personal world is collapsing, falling apart, seeming to end. another cappuccino sold on the street from that cute little coffee cart, another warning given to a speeding car on the freeway (where was he going in such a hurry?).