Meg Hartley

I start each day by drawing two cards for guidance, and then further consulting the deck. Last fall, tarot cards saved my life.

It’s real sticky-wicked to have your body become unpredictable and tortuously painful. So here I am. Homeless. Meditation is my medication.

I smile a lot. Not because it’s my favorite, though I certainly don’t mind, but because my face just does that. And my smile made my illness go undiagnosed.

A common coping mechanism for someone with chronic illness is to fake being healthy. I’d like to shed some light on this very misunderstood behavior.