Where the Light Rests

It was a deep, pervasive cold—one that came on gradually and sank all the way into your bones. We were shivering uncontrollably. My husband, Tim, and I huddled together in one sleeping bag, just trying to stave off the cold. The ground underneath our campsite was wet with melted snow. Though it was already June, piles of snow from last winter surrounded our tent on all sides. I had noticed a small patch of snow midway through our hike the day before. We were three days into a

Thunder Lake, Rocky Mountain National Park, Colorado from 2019 Photo by Ashley Purdin I haven’t talked much about my Bipolar One diagnosis on this blog yet, but I think it gives me a unique experience of the world and has taught me some lessons earlier in life that others may not learn until much later. I went through some very difficult times as we tried different medications to alleviate my symptoms—you see, there is no cure for bipolar disorder; there is only symptom manag

I spent the day painting in my studio with my sister-in-law. Between long stretches of quiet concentration, we found ourselves in conversation—the kind that slips in gently, then settles deep. I shared some of my mental health struggles, and it stirred a memory of a truth that quite literally saved my life years ago: No feeling lasts forever. I would add now that no season does either. Hard things arrive without asking. Loss, grief, trauma, the sudden unraveling of what once

Images and article by Ashley Purdin Intertwined between the to-do list and your goals and achievements lies the space in between—the space to breathe. Do you allow for this space? A beautiful sunset, a warm cup of tea, snuggles in front of the fire with your loyal dog, time spent with family and friends. It is these things that make up a life. These are the things that allow you to be truly and unapologetically yourself. To follow your feelings and not have to suck it up and

By Ashley Purdin, photos also by the author. I love surrounding myself with things that bring me joy. I am a collector of little ceramic, stone, or glass creatures that brighten my day and remind me that it’s the little things in life that make up the big things. As I soaked in my bath on a January morning, drinking my tea, I thought about winters past and how I spent my time—specifically winters in my childhood. Riding my horse over freshly snow-covered ground, watching the

Ease means seeing things as they are and not trying to control all of the outcomes.

My birthday is coming up. This will mark five birthdays as a diagnosed with Bipolar One. That first summer after my diagnosis in 2020 was full of immense highs and deep lows of a rapid-cycling spiral. It was also full of adventure.