Storm
The sky is raging, weeping.
A hummingbird perches on the topmost branch of a wilted Japanese maple. She forgoes the feathery shelter of the towering cedars next to her, and instead dives toward the glass feeder hung a few branches below. Dive, feed, return, rest. A whole morning she keeps this beat, weathering the freezing rain and gusting winds. Not once does she seek refuge. Countless branches sway, and her little form sways with them.
It’s the storms that build strength, her subdued dance seems to convey.
*
As always, I am humbled and inspired by the resilience of nature, the way it adapts and persists and simply goes with the flow. My little hummingbird friend is my favourite example; regardless of sunshine or storm, she has shown time and time again that she is intent on reaching the nectar that sustains her. (And from her favourite spot too.) She made for great company this past year as I learned to build strength of my own.
2025
I started this project, The Canary Poet, almost exactly one year ago. It was born from a deep yearning for creative freedom, and for lightness: for art, for soul, for authenticity untouched by the extractive clutches of AI and capitalism. As excited as I was about this pursuit, 2025 turned out to be a year not for creative output but for establishing stability. Learning and unlearning. And of course, building inner strength throughout it all.
2025 was a challenging year for me, as it was for many others. I spent most of it undergoing a lengthy and convoluted process to get my “disability” validated by the medical and government systems in order to qualify for benefits. The whole process from start to finish extended from February until December—which, in my humble opinion, is much too long.
I won’t go into the painful details, but my verdict of the entire experience is that social services reform is desperately needed. The existing processes and structures of governmental support for people with disabilities is not only incredibly debasing, it’s inaccessible. Having to prove—in excruciating detail—to ableist and unempathetic authority figures all the ways in which you are “less than” in this society is something no person should go through. And all just to be able to live off $1700/month, no less! *cue unhinged laughter*
Fortunately, I’m happy to report that despite all the setbacks and failings of an outdated system, I emerge victorious. Finalement!
2026
For the first time in a long time, I have enough mental bandwidth for sustained creativity. Curiosity. Imagining. It’s a strange, almost euphoric feeling after years of burnout from institutionalized academia and slaving through the capitalist machine. That’s not to say life is all roses—When will it ever be?—but I don’t recall having even a fraction of this playful, hopeful energy since I was a teen. I’ll take the win!
So here I am, finally as the Canary Poet, the writer I want to be. Building out this dream didn’t happen the way I initially planned, but who knows? Timing is a funny thing. And while I may not have published more work after my initial post, many a half-written story and half-baked poem I have in my stores, all saved from the storms I weathered in 2025.
If, like me, you yearn for more: more softness, more depth, more colour, more life… well. I look forward to sharing them with you.
The Canary Poet 