You Might Be a Problem

A poem and a prompt about self-awareness and squeezing too hard

Oct 09, 2025

likes to say “The opposite of a profound truth is also true.” You can ponder that one as you read today’s poem—especially the first line, which was clearly written under the duress of today’s publication deadline. Can you tell I also started reading

Elizabeth Gilbert

’s All the Way to the River?

rock with dozens of barnacles — Barnacles, Long Sands Beach, York, Maine

Codependent

Text within this block will maintain its original spacing when published

Poems do not get written 
because they have to.
If you care more about 
a person’s survival than 
they do, you might be a 
problem I cannot solve;
If I cannot save you to save me
then what can I do?
What is there to write, right?
Can we trust the poem to save itself?
Who will make its bed, offer it pills,
Search the thesaurus for the
perfect salve?
Surrender my ass.
I dare you to pry this pen
from my cold, dead caring.
Where is the beauty in no transformation,
in no always truisms,
in the justice of an empty page?
Was I not brought here
to write life, to right 
the world–not just stand still
as it spills and spills

Share Toward Utter Aliveness

Here’s our somatic prompt for today:

Find an object that can easily fit in the palm of your hand—a rock, a pen, a toy, a tube of chapstick.
Close your eyes. Squeeze the object hard, like someone is trying to take it away and you won’t let go.
Now imagine that the object is something—or someone—that you’ve been trying to control. Something you want to protect, fix, heal, solve.
Bit by bit, with microscopic movements, begin to release your grip. The slower the better. Track your sensations and feelings as you go.
When you’ve fully let go, the object might fall. Or it might still rest in your hand. Notice how you feel about where it ends up. How does it feel to not be holding on to it, to just let it land on its own?
Repeat this practice as needed to acclimate yourself to the sensation of letting go.

With light, life, and love,

Devon