When the World Feels Heavy

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I didn’t sleep well last night.

It was one of those mornings where your body wakes up before your spirit is ready — where dreams spill into reality and your brain won’t stop spinning. I tried to meditate. I tried to go back to sleep. But the weight I’ve been carrying… didn’t loosen.

I can’t name every part of it — not in a way that’s safe, and not in a way that would even fit on a screen. But if you’ve been paying attention, you know the weight I mean.

You’ve probably felt it too.

There’s the everyday survival stuff — how to keep your business running, how to pay the bills, how to make ends meet in a world that’s pulling the ends farther and farther apart. When the World Feels Heavy.

And then there’s the bigger stuff.

The fear that lives just under the skin.

The dread that something is coming — or already here — and the unsettling realization that if you say too much, or say it too plainly, you could be noticed… and not in a good way.

Image created by Chat GPT

I see things. I read. I remember.

I see programs being gutted while others celebrate their gains.

I see people losing their homes, their safety, their rights — sometimes in the quiet, sometimes not.

I see systems unraveling while smiling faces insist everything’s fine.

I remember what they want us to forget.

And I am not stupid.

But I am tired. And I am scared. And I am trying to keep creating anyway.

That’s where Unlearned came from.

"Unlearned", watercolor and pen & ink by Heather Pilapil

I didn’t paint it as a message.

I painted it because I needed to move something through myself that words couldn’t carry.

It’s a raven holding a lantern, flying low over a skull and a poppy. But it’s also more than that.

There are layers. Symbols. Things hidden in plain sight. And I won’t explain them, because that would make them easier to erase.

Let the right eyes see what they see.

Today, I feel like I should be doing something productive. Making money. Finishing projects. Staying ahead of the wave. But the truth is — the wave is already here. And all I can do is keep breathing and moving through it in the small ways that are still mine.

If you feel this too — the weight, the watching, the quiet defiance — you’re not alone.

We’re still here. We’re still creating.

And they haven’t taken that away yet.

Did you want to see my painting listing? Follow this link.