✨Celebrating Tessa

Celebrating Tessa

A few weeks ago, Tessa Amina Thulien, a longtime friend of Sanity who's also an intuition and creativity coach and a licensed professional counsellor and mental health consultant, sent me the kind of message that makes me want to get out of the house and (consensually) hug everyone I meet and speak nonsense happy words.

"Hi Tanmoy! I finally did it!" the message read, followed by a link to Tessa's new book, Sacred Sanity, "a collection of poetry and original visual art for healing into a deeper reality".

I immediately fell in love with the cover. I remember finding it stunning yet calming at an almost cellular level. "It is one of my paintings," Tessa told me – and then gifted me not one but two poems from the book so I could share them with y'all. Thanks Tessa. I haven't stopped feeling super grateful and proud of you!

Before I let you read the poems, I have to tell you this: 'God' features in them, and I have trouble with that word, but some of the lines are so staggeringly pretty – perhaps because Tessa uses 'God' and 'love' almost interchangeably, was that a creative choice or just instinct, Tessa? I suspect the latter? – that I would happily wear a t-shirt with them.

Sample this:

And I cried to God,
"Why am I still here?"
And felt this phrase…
"Because of love."

And this:

And in the end, it comes to this:
Love flowing through all things,
Even hospital hallways,
Even medication bottles,
Even the moments of doubt.

In today's edition, join me in celebrating Tessa. You can get a copy of the book here and connect with Tessa here. Send me love for the poems and I will share it back with their wonderful creator.

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Okay enough, now on to Tessa's poetry.

I was Enough

In the moment
When they stuck my arm with antipsychotic—
Haldol,
Or another…..a name my hippocampus won’t recall,
The same medication that marked my body and psyche,
My soul.
I was enough
When I was labeled
Bipolar,
Delusional,
Paranoid,
Psychotic,
Demonic,
Cursed.
I was enough
When the first fresh breath hit my lungs,
And the spastic energy held in my pelvis
Erupted and let go, sinking through the pine floor
Into the well below.
All I heard were gasps of air from those around me,
My yoga teacher asking,
As I swallowed my tears and wiped my face,
"Are you okay to be here?"
I was enough
When the pain of losing my baby,
My lover,
My mother,
And the love of being alive
Overwhelmed me,
And I cried to God,
"Why am I still here?"
And felt this phrase…
"Because of love."
I was enough
When the flood of always filled my being,
My soul,
My aching heart,
And I overflowed
With enough.
My heart speaks:
Do not doubt yourself,
Sweet one.
You are exactly the right amount
Of enough—
Not too much,
Not too weak,
But exactly what this world needs
And feels
Today,
Tomorrow,
And always, in all ways.
Let the breath of forever open your being.
To belong to the Mystery
Is to belong to this world,
As we are one.
Breathe
And know:
You were enough,
Are enough,
And will be enough.
And if you find yourself in a moment
Where you forget your enoughness,
Just breathe, hand to heart,
And a bridge to the always, the forever,
And the enough will be there
To pick you up again,
From your chin to your knees.
Just ask,
And receive.

Spectrum of Sacred Sanity

First, there was only light—
Pure seeing, pure being
Before they taught me fear.
God flowing through everything
Like electric honey,
Each soul’s sweetness, a bulb in the cosmic chandelier,
All of us connected,
All of us shining.

Then came the voices,
The ones who'd crossed over
Some gentle as morning prayer,
Others hungry as winter wolves.
I opened my door to them all,
Not yet knowing that even sacred spaces
Need thresholds, need boundaries,
Need places to rest.

Bliss became drowning,
Divine light turned to lightning
Angels wore EMT uniforms,
Their halos hidden under fluorescent lights
As they wheeled me through hospital halls
Where they tried to cure my seeing
With carefully measured numbness.

They called it psychosis—
This too much knowing,
This too much feeling,
This too much being.
But how do you measure madness
In a world that's forgotten
How to speak with spirits,
How to dance with God?

Months of medication fog,
Sleeping through my own magic
Until slowly, like spring thaw,
I learned to trust again:
The visions, the voices,
The vastness within.
Not drowning but dancing,
Not cursed but called.

Now I know—
I am not broken but breaking open,
Not lost but leading the way
Through ancient mysteries
In modern skin.
A mystic child grown
Into her power,
Into her truth.

I carry many names now:
Healer, therapist, poet, wife, sister, friend
Non-binary soul in a binary world,
Queer spirit dancing
Between seen and unseen realms.
Each identity a facet
Of the same sacred diamond,
Reflecting divine light.

This is sacred sanity:
Not the narrow path
Of normalized numbness,
But the wide spectrum
Of holy human experience.
Learning to be both vessel
And boundary keeper,
Both lightning rod and grounding wire.

The chandelier still shines—
I see it clearer now
Through eyes that have cried
Rivers of healing tears.
Each soul still glowing,
Connected in the great circuit
Of divine electricity,
But now I know how to carry the current.

This is my truth:
I am not too much,
Not too open, not too feeling.
I am exactly enough,
Precisely what I was meant to be:
A bridge between worlds,
A translator of light,
A keeper of sacred sanity.

And in the end, it comes to this:
Love flowing through all things,
Even hospital hallways,
Even medication bottles,
Even the moments of doubt.
God's light still running
Through every circuit,
Through every soul,
Through every story—
For we are all that light,
All that love,
All that sacred electricity,
Learning to shine
At exactly the right voltage
For our particular bulb
In the cosmic chandelier
Of being.

Write to me if you wish to contribute original writing or art for 'Voices of Sanity', a space reserved for Sanity's community members from over 50 countries across six continents.

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