We all know of the ups and downs in life that come with just existing, whether it be the lows of a broken-down car you can barely afford to fix, falling ill at what feels like the worst possible time, or the ups of working a job that you love, and feeling secure in your home and work life. 

Though there are times when you think you’ve walked under too many ladders, shattered too many mirrors, and been crossed by too many black cats. I’ve certainly felt that way for what feels too long now, a friend of mine blamed my motorcycle accident, physical health problems, and general bad luck on my *Saturn Return. Though when they kept happening, she thought perhaps I was the problem. 

I don’t deny that when you carry darkness within you, it casts a shadow and spreads negativity, attracting it too. It is easy to wallow in bad circumstances that are beyond your control. I, for one, have the terrible habit of using them as an excuse to disregard my mental health for quick fixes and self-pity. This could mean going to the pub instead of writing, or doom-scrolling for hours on end in bed instead of painting or studying. It is only when I shake myself out of these pits of despair that things begin to get better. You can hide from life’s problems for as long as you like, but they will not go away. It is through facing these challenges that you realise they’re not nearly as scary as you think. 

~ 

Recently, I was admitted to the hospital after being assaulted with a knife whilst walking home from university. For no other reason than the sun having set, and walking on the wrong street at the wrong time. At first, I took the attack in my stride, and my spirits were reasonably high. The doctor had successfully stitched the wound on my neck, given me a tetanus shot, and antibiotics to fight any chance of infection. 

It was only through a few nights alone that the gravity of the situation and philosophical and superficial stresses started to overwhelm me—what of my mortality? Would I have to go to court? Not to mention some around me were unconvinced that this wasn’t entirely my fault. I understand it is only because people care that they can react in unfavourable ways and wish you had somehow avoided the situation, but this hurt the most, so I sank into a deeper sorrow. 

I started to blame myself too, and I still believe rightly so, to a degree. It was through my arrogance and ignorance that I kept standing in front of a person clearly dangerous; it was through my arrogance and ignorance that when they pulled the weapon from their pocket, all I could think was “That’s a small knife”; it was through my arrogance and ignorance that everything suddenly went black until the police arrived. It was my pride that needed reining in that night, and this is something I endeavour to be mindful of. So, in a way, I do not blame my family for being angry with me. If the worst had happened, I would be angry with myself. Self-preservation is not my strong suit, but we must remember there are people in our lives who love us, and sometimes love us even more than they love themselves. This must be respected through what we can control—our actions. 

There is always light to be found somewhere, and it was through small actions such as getting my stitches removed without complications, going for long walks, window shopping, and talking with friends and loved ones who were so generous with their sympathy and support that I began to feel better. I have no time for anger or ideas of vengeance; I feel too old and too tired for such things. Also, I know that it will do me no good, I think of the quote often attributed to Buddha (although I cannot confirm or deny this): Holding onto anger is like drinking poison and expecting the other person to die. In saying this, one can always be happy despite all the sadness around the world. The greatest weapon we have is to smile in the face of anger, to have a sympathetic ear to eyes full of tears. 

Life will always throw us curveballs to try to catch or dodge, though not without great moments of beauty and of love. Forgive the cliché, but one illuminates the other positively. We appreciate our moments of peace during times of turbulence, and through times of peace, we can recognise and digest our moments of turbulence. 

There is always a way out of the darkness; there is always an answer. 

* Psychologically, the first Saturn return is seen as the time of reaching full adulthood, and being faced, perhaps for the first time, with adult challenges and responsibilities.https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Saturn_return#:~:text=In%20horoscopic%20astrology%2C%20a%20Saturn,with%20adult%20challenges%20and%20responsibilities. 

Liveshot (poem) 

I tell my mother I can’t be killed but don’t mean it 

I only wish to make light of the situation and to try and make her smile  

it annoys and amuses her all at once, that’s enough for me 

she’s a nurse and knows damn well I could see hell any day, she knows death all too well 

she’s scared for me, I’ll probably send her to an early grave, if I don’t beat her there first 

I’m a lover but life gives you a lot of fighting to do 

fights I often lose but not enough to kill me, it’ll take a lot to kill me it seems 

but I can be killed they tell me 

whether it be motorcycle 

motorcar 

kitchen floor 

laceration 

penetration  

the skin of my crooked teeth is getting thinner 

the bulletproof vest of youth is no longer Teflon  

but cotton or linen depending on the washing cycle 

some cat I am, some lives I’ve spent stupidly  

I’ve never been good at saving anyway 

I like good food and good views and good drink and seeing if I can fall farther this time  

ironic and cruel to those who love lives when there was a time I wished mine away 

I regret that. 

But this time  

this time too close, my luck’s in overdraft this time   

2cm is awful close  

who carries a shank on them anyway? Perhaps I’m not up with the kids 

2cm is too close  

a killshot they were looking for  

but missed 

2cm is as close as I’m comfortable with 

but I’m still alive, I laugh in the face of my attacker and cry in the face of death 

not for me though, this won’t hurt a bit 

the wounding will be to all those left standing 

the real victims 

but I am still alive  

to scare my mother another day and walk the streets again another night  

Thomas Hannah 

Blogger @poemstellium 

Instagram: @brokesellout