Daughter of the Earth

Daughter of the earth
Child of the soil
If she fades in the growing darkness
drops her leaves as the days grow short
Why wouldn’t I?

All summer long
I push through the cobwebs
of her morning eyelids
to see what she sees when
she first opens her eyes
The stained glass windows of
her emerald sanctuary
sparkle in the dazzling glory of
summer sunshine
I sat in the moss that covers her backbone
and watch the wind
gently rustle her hair
I feel life oozing from her every pore
All summer long
I lose myself
in the glory of
Mother Earth

Her eyelids stay shut longer and longer
The signs of her life
her vibrancy
fades
drops
falls
from trees and bushes
Bright green fades to brown.
As I walk in her forests
the trees whisper
“We’re tired,” they say
and the leaves nod their agreement
“All summer long we’ve worked,
making food to nourish and grow ourselves
and give shade to humankind
But now it is time to rest”


I know it is true
Feel it in my bones
Weariness and the need for rest
I pass a dying corn field and long
to lay in the center and return
to the mother who birthed me long ago
Autumn rains drip down her cheeks
and mingle with my tears
as I grieve the lessening of the light
the coming days of clouds
The descending darkness
We bury the green to make room for the cold
An unfair trade and every part of me resents it
I feel as old and tired as the tree
with the hollowed insides
Decades of creating nourishment
for the hungry around me
but never finding my own autumn of rest
have left me depleted
Scooped out
Empty

Now color fades on me
Strength a fragment of what it once was
but where does a daughter of earth go
to find her own autumn?
To fall into a pile of her sisters
and do nothing but rest
Close her kitchen and feed no one
But the little girl inside of her

Daughter of the earth
Child of the soil
If she fades in the growing darkness
drops her leaves as the days grow short
Why wouldn’t I?

daughter of the earth

I struggle to enjoy fall the way many seem to. I love the vibrant colors of fall and the cooler days, but there’s something about knowing the dark days of winter are almost here, that leaves me a little numb and I’m unable to completely absorb the sheer beauty of fall.

This year I even decided that I am going to fully embrace the season. Soak up every bit of color and crunch. Revel in sweatshirts and bonfires, apple dumplings and candlelight. But even on the most gorgeous of days, when so many things were going good and it felt like I had no reason to feel sad, I still felt this weight pressing in. Things that normally had me up and raring to go, felt like too much. Logically, it made no sense.

I kept pushing through it because, well, we were slammed at work and there was so much to do. When I let myself slow down and really pay attention, is when it dawned on me.

It’s my SAD kicking in. According to the Cleveland Clinic, Seasonal affective disorder (SAD) is depression that gets triggered by a change in seasons, usually when fall starts. It usually starts and ends at the same time every year. I don’t remember dealing with it when we lived in the tropics. But as I look back over the recent years back in Ohio, I see a pattern. This year, while it caught me off guard, it didn’t surprise me.

child of the soil

I feel my body is actively grieving the loss of light, warmth, and green. There’s nothing to do but let the grief come and roll with it. Even on the days when the sun is still shining and the leaves are glorious.

Grief does not make logical sense. It has a life and cycle of it’s own. As an ISFJ on the Myers Briggs personality type, I experience life through my senses. Feeling warmth, seeing green, smelling the earth are all so life-giving to me. I dislike wearing shoes and love nothing more than feeling the earth beneath my bare toes. I utterly hate being cold. And cloudy, dull days with no green on the horizon make me not want to live.. I’m not being dramatic. It’s just how it is.

I’m deeply connected to the earth. Feel her changes in my bones. While I know that this will pass, as all seasons do, I am giving space for all that I feel right now.

Daughter of the earth. That’s who I am.

I realize the mention of “not wanting to live” may have been triggering…if so, there’s help.
National Suicide Prevention Lifeline – Call 800-273-TALK (8255)
If you or someone you know is in crisis—whether they are considering suicide or not—please call the toll-free Lifeline at 800-273-TALK (8255) to speak with a trained crisis counselor 24/7.

The National Suicide Prevention Lifeline connects you with a crisis center in the Lifeline network closest to your location. Your call will be answered by a trained crisis worker who will listen empathetically and without judgment. The crisis worker will work to ensure that you feel safe and help identify options and information about mental health services in your area. Your call is confidential and free.


Click on the button above to send me an email and I will let you know when new posts are up! If you or someone you love is in the closet, or if you are struggling with your own guttural grief and need someone to talk to, email me. I may not have time to answer you but I will read it and hold you in my heart.

Find me on Instagram @maritajmiller and Facebook Beyond The Cocoon.



Longing for Light

Sunrise from Mt. Batur, Indonesia

Lets talk about self care and mental health for a minute. We are in the heart of winter and many of us live in places which are cold and have long periods of darkness. We are earthlings, all of us, designed to be nourished by the earth, to quench our thirst from its waters. Nature calms and refreshes us. Sunshine gives light, feeds plants and even our own skin by infusing us with needed vitamins. When we don’t receive these life-giving elements, our bodies, like plants placed in a cold basement corner, begin to droop and wither. This is why is is so important to pay attention and listen to your body.

I’ve struggled with depression on and off for a number of years. I know I am not alone. An estimated 15% of the adult population will probably experience depression at some point. 5% of the U. S. population experiences Seasonal Depression, also known as SAD. If this time of year typically finds you feeling sad, lethargic and irritable, you are not alone.

Listen to your body

About a year ago, I hit bottom fast and hard. One minute I was fine and the next I was flat on the floor, wanting nothing more than to die. The ferocity of my depression scared me and I immediately made an appointment with my doctor. I went on medication for the first time in my life and increased my visits with my therapist. I spilled it all to my closest circle of women so that I wouldn’t be doing it alone.

Our bodies are incredibly wise and have much to tell us if we learn to listen to them. The trouble is, we have to learn the language of the body first because it is easy to misunderstand. A craving for a donut does not mean your body needs a donut to be happy again. A longing to sleep all day does not mean your body needs to sleep all day and then it will feel better. Learn to listen to your body, to the cry beneath the craving. It might just be saying, “pay attention to me and show me value.”

It’s taken me a long time to sort out what my body was telling me on that day. I’m sure I still don’t have it all figured out but it’s easier to see the big picture when we back up a few steps and sit still.

SAD was certainly a part of things. It was right around winter solstice, when we experience the shortest days and the longest nights. My mood changes with the sunlight. The sun gives the warmth and food needed to cloak the outdoors in green. Flowers and trees, green leaves and grass, all bring so much life to my senses. My body and the world outside my window was very light deprived that day. But it was more than that. Death was beautiful to me that day because I had lost hope.

Losing Hope

We were in that particularly rough period before Austin came out of the closet. There were several times that year I was convinced our marriage was not going to make it intact. Our business had taken some huge blows and our livelihood was threatened. One of our boys had just been diagnosed with ADHD and it took pretty much all of our energy to navigate things. While the diagnosis helped us understand him, it did nothing to change the reality of what we had been experiencing for a long time.

My anxiety was through the roof. And like a house of cards, I collapsed without so much as a wind to knock me over. There was no one thing that happened that day to send me down. I just went down. Because it is hope that keeps us standing and my body knew before my brain registered it, that I had lost mine.

Year after year, after year, I had muddled through. Hoping for change in my marriage. I had worked tirelessly to build a small business with global impact. Raising sons to be lovers of peace and kindness. Everything I had poured my big, soft, endless heart into seemed only to break my heart instead of being transformed by it. Honestly, my life felt more than a little wasted and I was more than a little exhausted.

More than a year later, it’s very difficult for me to write about this. I feel a sadness creeping in the edges, dancing on the peripheral. But I’m trying to stay with the story and listen to what that sadness is telling me.

Listening to the sadness

I’m sad that a 45 year old woman felt like a life of love given was lived in vain. She is the one I need to listen to, care for and nurture. Here is what I think she was trying to tell me that day.

I’m so tired. My load is too heavy and I have to lay it down for a bit. I need you to give me as much value as you are giving away to everyone else. An endless supply of energy is not what I have to offer; I have limits. Please fill me back up again. Treat me gently because I am you.

When your partner is distant and you wonder what is going through his head, your value remains. The things your child yells in a fit of rage are not about you so it’s okay to move out of the way. I wish I could offer you financial stability but this way you identify with a larger portion of humanity. The top is not all it is cracked up to be.

Sit for a minute and let light fall into the cracks opened up by your sorrow. Hold still and see me. If you learn to love me well, it will never be in vain. I know your limitations. I hold your gifts and all the light and goodness you have to offer the world. Value me because I am holding you.

Tips for self care

I’ve always felt the weight of the world on my shoulders, needs that seemed bigger or more important than my own. It felt selfish to do something for me when the world was going to hell in a handbag around me. I had a wake up call this year when a friend died of a stress-induced heart attack. She was only 30 years old. It helped me realize that taking care of myself is actually a huge gift to the people around me.

So listen to your body and do what you need to do to take care of yourself. Ask for help. Be honest with your doctor and consider medication. Your kids will thank you later. Find a therapist. Reach out to a friend you can trust. We were not made to navigate this on our own.

Exercise daily for it boosts your serotonin levels. Find what works for you. My husband is a people person and takes classes at the local YMCA. I am an introvert and that doesn’t work for me. I find that doing yoga at home has been the only thing I want to keep coming back to. Something about the stretches speak to me about navigating the painful stretches of life.

Take Vitamin D in the winter. Our body produces it when exposed to sunshine and, in places like Ohio, we rarely get enough of it. While a deficiency is not likely to cause depression, many who take it notice a difference in their mood within a couple of weeks. I usually start taking it in the fall so it kicks in by the time the days are really dark. Read more here.

Be honest with yourself. Sometimes depression is because of the season. Sometimes it’s because of hormones. But sometimes it hits us because we have not been kind to ourselves. Maybe we have carried too much for too long. Perhaps self-hatred has caught up with us and does not want to be ignored any longer. Take a moment and listen to what your body is trying to tell you.


Click on the button above to send me an email and I will let you know when new posts are up! If you or someone you love is in the closet, or if you are struggling with your own guttural grief and need someone to talk to, email me. I may not have time to answer you but I will read it and hold you in my heart.