Hi friends, today's episode is hosted by the inimitable poet Shira Erlichman.

Hang tight and I'll be back on August 28th.

I'm Shira Erlichman and this is the slowdown.

The exact moment I realized I needed to hospitalize myself.

It was late at night and I was in the throes of an emergency.

I had to pack fast.

I grabbed a light bag and filled it with some clothes, a roomy poetry collection, and a small stone Buddha.

The clothes made sense. The book too made sense.

A way to pass the time inside the hospital.

But the second I placed that small stone Buddha in my bag, I was doing more than packing.

I was enacting a ritual, a spell, a hopefulness.

What made this a ritual?

Was it the inclusion of something that could be deemed excessive, elusive, woo-woo?

I was in the grip of a manic episode, the ceiling tiles literally slithering.

But some hidden logic told me, take the small stone Buddha.

It was cool in my hand as I slipped it in my bag, soothing even.

I found myself in the PTSD ward of the mental hospital.

My small room with its foreign bed and barred windows contained very little of home.

I sat the stone Buddha upright on the bedside table.

I collapsed to the scratchy rug, exhausted, traumatized, battered.

Alone, I opened my book at random.

I vividly remember the poem which presented itself to me for its sharp and mothering clarity.

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