The joy of doing what feeds me

Poetry feeds me. The words simmer with the aroma of truth and hope. Reading makes me feel full, and writing fills my mouth with a sweet self-confidence that dribbles down my chin. Dancing gives me the savory satisfaction of eating something that’s good for my soul. Building community with other survivors is like digging into a holiday feast, complete with joy and pride in our ability to gather life’s ingredients and create a hearty meal.

It’s June, which means we’ve reached our last month in our three-part series on the spiderweb of self-love. I’m watching the spider choose what to catch in her web, and I’m thinking about how I do the same. A big part of caring for myself is doing what feeds me, things like writing and dancing. I’m finding what makes me feel nourished, and doing what helps me grow. It feels good to learn more about what really makes me happy, and to give myself permission to do what feeds me.

In June we had a member talent show, where we proudly performed our talents for one another. It reminded me that there’s so much joy to be found in doing what feeds me. Like the spider, I’m moving little by little, tasting all of life’s flavors and holding onto those that fill me up best.