talking to myself
an introduction to Ev Jambor's meditative writing
i won’t say that i hope this finds you well, because i don’t really know what that means— to myself or to you. what i will say is that i hope that when this finds you, you are taking care of or trying to take care of yourself. it has become increasingly difficult to do so, but i feel that it’s important to keep the effort ever-present. especially when doing so feels most difficult. the following poems are reminders that i’ve offered myself when i’ve felt low, alone, without direction, and/or a bit unloving towards myself. if we neglect ourselves, we have little to offer to those we love and who love us.
in the difficult times that are present and those that lie ahead, i hope— in spite of hope feeling difficult— that you remember to extend love and understanding to yourself and those you care about.
i offer these words to you, hoping that they bring you some strength and solace and resolve to move forward when it feels like you cannot.
— Ev
there’s a room full of people wishing you were there with them
you cross at least one person’s mind at least once a day
hundreds of embraces— perhaps more— have been sent to you by way of another
if you find yourself doubting your importance, your impact, your value,
remember all of the smiles you’ve caused
the laughter you’ve conjured
the warmth that’s blossomed from your presence
you mean so much to so many
i’m sorry if you’re not reminded enough
i’m sorry that sometimes your pain overshadows any glowing memory
i’m sorry that the world’s darkness is so strong
but your light is stronger
your light rivals a thousand suns
you bring life to all who surround you
you improve anything you’re a part of
the world needs you
it is nothing without you
— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —
love is all around me and pumping blood through my veins and bubbling in my gut and thumping on my brain and radiating right through my feet and down into the ground that holds me up and tender on my fingertips and easing the hurt and begging you to do better for yourself and telling you it’s okay and flooding my eyes with tears after our visits or during our little talks and embracing and embracing and embracing and letting go when we need to and caressing her arm and squeezing her hand on a walk through our neighborhood, through the woods, down the beach and burning on my lips as i kiss her and looking back at me through her eyes and sighing while we take in the view and singing in the shower, in the car, on the dance floor with friends and dancing in the kitchen, at the bar, in the living room with friends and stirred into my coffee and sprouting from the terracotta pots around the house and looking back at me in the mirrors on the walls and following in my wake and blazing the way before me and suffusing the air we breathe, filling our lungs with fresh, new life and it is me.
Ev Jambor is a queer, non binary poet and photographer living in Brooklyn, NY with their partner and two cats. They’ve been working on a collection of poetry for 2 years that they hope to release later this year and are honored to be a part of Beneath the Flesh. You can find more of Ev’s writing on their personal Substack between us and on their Instagram @evjambor.
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