Days of the Week Mats.

Many years ago, I made long daily visits to the hospital. I noticed that large mats in the elevators had the day of the week on them. At first, I found this silly and weird. But as days passed, those mats became an anchor, an offering of normalcy--simply knowing the day of the week calmed me when nothing made sense, and times seemed like dust on a breeze.

Here are some of my current mats:

• Stickers. Tiny bits of beauty, color, and glimmer are scattered in my journals and are sparks that remind me who I am.
• Josh's big smile. I remember whom I love and who loves me.
• Oliver's calling me Mama still catches me by surprise and gives me a sense of purpose.
• Massages or tickles from Josh. These always make me pause and come out of my fevered mind.
• The Phantom of the Opera music. It reminds me that I can tap into relatively healthy obsessions and find healing.
• My mom's voice. On the phone with her, I either calm down considerably, or everything that needs to come out comes out.
• Reading. It settles me. Pain cannot reign where stories dwell.