As a mythologist, I tried to connect this article to the stories of an Algonquin bear hunt that explains why the leaves change colors in the fall or of Persephoneβs yearly return to the Underworld that causes the seasons to shift, but I was more inspired from simply watching the animals and trees in our mountain community. The animals are not out as much, but even though I do not see them, they are busy making nests and storing food. Their work is not as obvious as their spring and summer activity, but it is important for their survival. I also noticed that the trees are turning colors and beginning to lose their leaves. Their fruit is a memory of late summer and a distant promise for next year. The animals and trees are focusing resources on the basics and preservation. It became obvious, to me, that I needed to fall back too and reorganize my mindset for the transition of the seasons.
You see, recently, I had been feeling out-of-sorts. I have felt more tired, less productive, and frustrated with myself. Regular seasonal mountain things, like power outages or road closures, felt more challenging and I was losing my patience more quickly than I should. I could not figure out what was wrong with me, but then, I realized β it is fall! Even though I have lived through enough years on the mountain to remember that the seasons are dramatic here, I forgot what those seasonal transitions mean for our day-to-day lives.
I was trying to live my life by summer standards and feeling myself falling short. While I filled my home with fall colors and good-smelling fall foods; I had not prepared myself for the fall. Instead of resisting with frantic attempts to be outwardly productive that is more suitable for summer; I needed to allow myself to do less, to rest, and to embrace the natural, more domestic nature of autumn. We physically retreat inside during the cold, dark days of winter, but we also need to give ourselves time to stop and go inside to ourselves during this time. Fall, and especially winter, are times for restorative stillness, reflection, and planning.
By researching for this article, by quietly watching nature, and reflecting to write β I learned to give myself grace and regain my patience. I learned by watching the trees that it is not only okay to release what does not serve us at this time, but also, that it can be beautiful to observe. The animals showed me that it is proper, not selfish, to focus resources on the home and that activities do not need to be obvious for them to be valuable. I learned to take time to rest, to reflect, and grow the seeds for spring.
Thank you for taking your time to read my ramblings. For more about the Algonquin myth of the bear hunt and the changing of the leaves in fall or the story of Demeter, Persephone, and the reason for the seasons according to Greek mythology, please listen to the links below.
Mostly I have only done items around our house and a couple pieces for a neighbor. This piece I found on the free table (our town has a table to leave and pick up used items).
Iβm raffling this piece of artwork – tickets are only $2 for 1 or 3 for $5.
Watching the transformation of the piece β¦
Image from Hobby Lobby since I thought I had a before pic. I started with a base of diluted βUnicorn Spitβ (thatβs the brand of paint) Next I added the flowers with metallicsAnd added the blue (magic)Next, time to detail the sun a bitLoving these flowers!Almost ready to be sealed with clear coat
I have a lot of article written on the topic of transformation and growth. Below are links to a few I really like.
I did the artwork, then the long writing, then the poem, then the shorter poem π
Every Time, Choosing Life
Life isnβt a sentence; itβs not a straight line. Living is complicated, and frankly, itβs messy. And for some of us, itβs really, really tough sometimes. The hardest part isnβt what happens around us; itβs fighting ourselves just to keep going.
A long-time friend recently ended his fight. Everyone kept asking, Why?
Want to know a secret that I hate to admit? I get it. I understand the struggle, and this is why my first reaction was anger. Angry that he couldnβt keep fighting for the living, how selfish for him to give up. Eventually, the anger went away and all that was left was the senseless sadness of it all. And for so many who donβt understand the fight; the resonating question, Why?
For some of us, we have to constantly ask ourselvesβWhy not? Why should I keep goingβtoday, right now? Whatβs going to keep me here? I canβt explain why itβs so hard, but living just isnβt easy for some of us; maybe we got wired wrong. (There is a joke that says But what the fuck do I know?)
It may surprise some who know me well, but Iβm one of those people whoβs had to fight that question and not just once. It wasnβt just when things were bad, now the worst days are when things are good; but Iβm still wrong. No matter what, I love my life; and I choose it – every time. I have found strength in the cycle; power in my understanding of myself, and empathy for others.
There were days I wasnβt strong. For years, I have had to quiet something loud and painful inside me. Keeping that fire inside, learning to use it rather than let it consume you; to create beauty from pain. The worst days and nights were when I felt completely aloneβlike no one else had to fight just to keep from breaking. My silent screams began to make themselves seen.
Itβs not a lie. Life is full of pain. Life has plenty of suffering, and itβs really, really hard. But after so many years of fighting, Iβve learned something: Iβm tougher than the emptiness and life is more than the darkness; there is also color.
If you can ride out the waves that threaten to drown you, you earn wisdom that the waves are temporary and you find out that you didnβt drown, even in the storm.
Life is more than the fury; it is also extremely beautiful. While life is hard; it is full of joy, connection, love, laughter, and purpose. What keeps me here now is that I can see the beauty in the cycle.
Iβve got so many semicolons in my cycle, they form a patternβsomething bright. At first, I thought it looked like a sun. That felt rightβit shines, it leads, it brings warmth. Then a friend said it reminded her of a medicine wheel, a symbol of healing and the cycles of life. I liked that too. And now, it even makes me think of a windmillβsomething that takes heavy energy and turns it into movement and electricity. Thatβs the cool thing about art: it can mean whatever it needs to, to whoever sees it. Art says as much about the viewer as it does about the artist.
After a period of extreme darkness that led to extreme color, I thought about getting the semicolon tattoo. I thought, showing my survival through such chaos was a badge of honor and a symbol of connection for others struggling. I imagined itβmaybe with a peacock eye, something beautiful made from what I survived. But it never felt quite right.
Then it hit me: A semicolon isnβt a trophy. It doesnβt mean you wonβit means you keep going. This isnβt something you overcome once and move on from. Itβs not a rough patch. Itβs wiring. Itβs how some of us are built. And it means that every day, the question comes back: Why not?
Why should I get up? Get dressed? Leave the house? Act like Iβm okay? Why keep showing up? Every, single, day
Because sometimes, when the day is heavy, choosing life is the most beautiful thing. And I doβchoose life. Not once. Not only in the worst moments – but over and over.
For those of us wired this way, every day is a choice. We live with the knowledge that the darkness might not go away. But we can still have color. We can still be shiny, and sharp, and just the way we are.
We can still choose lifeβevery time.
Poems
Still Choosing Life
It doesnβt happen once. Itβs not some dramatic turning point or a single event that tipped the scales.
It comes backβ the weight, the question of purpose, the desire for peace.
Always so tiredβ exhausted even, from trying not to break.
And every time, it has to be a choice. Do I feed darkness? Do I let myself slip quietly away? Or do I fightβ and why must I fight at all?
Some days, the fight looks easy – a clear victory. Other days, itβs brushing my teeth, texting back, getting dressed.
There’s no sentimental music and no close-ups. There are no major insightful breakthroughs and no hugs just for staying alive.
Itβs grit: Suiting up and showing up. Not giving in – every single time the dark wave returns.
People want it to be a one-time thingβ a semicolon in a story thatβs already written.
But this isnβt grammar, itβs life, and living isnβt always easy.
And still, I choose life. Even when it makes no sense. Even when it hurts. Even when I donβt want to because itβs easier to give up and give in.
Because somewhere in the quiet, I know: Iβm still here. Still messy, and colorful, and sharp, and messed up in just the right way. Iβm here and the choice is beautiful because it has always been my own.
Survival isnβt something you did. Itβs something you do. Again and again.
The cycle keeps turningβ and every time it does, you can add another color to the story; find a way to sparkle – even in the darkness.
Even if it hurts. Even if itβs messy. Even if you donβt know why.
Choosing life doesnβt mean itβs easy. It means: Youβre still here. Still choosing.
Every time.
By Tracy Marrs June 29, 2025
To accompany βStill Choosing Lifeβ Painting & βEvery Time, Choosing Lifeβ writing.
I would be debt free and fix things that needed to be fixed and some travel but what would be cool would be to do secret gift giving. Like if no one knew that you won the lottery so everyone was normal and you knew what people needed and secretly helped them get what they needed. Idk, I just wish I had the funds to give people a breath in this world.
Today is the fifth day of January and I already have mixed feelings about this year. I feel like I am on a rollercoaster and on a hamster wheel – a hamster wheel on a rollercoaster? One moment I am feeling cozy and reading a book for the joy of the story, not for research. Fully enjoying “wintering.” The next moment I’m creating a new website to try to start some new career that I can’t really imagine, so it’s hard to get going but I just know I am on the right track, so I spend hours working on it – publish it and see 5 people looked at it and none of them went past the first page. So, was it a waste or was it my first step towards something new? Only time will tell for the future is SO unknown.
Lately, I’ve been anxious. I think that is the best word. I feel excited that the future is unknown and full of possibility, but the unknown is also scary and full of insecurity. My studies taught me to become more observant and see patterns, so I do not allow these feelings to rule me as they once did. Part of how I understand what is going on – because when I get like this – anxious, restless, excited, agitated, and basically at a loss for how to cope, I say ‘what is going on?’ – is to turn to stories for guidance.
I have been bouncing around between myths, trying to figure out how relate myth to myself and to others. I went from painting an octopus, to studying the Kraken, to the Hawaiian god that transformed into an octopus, and finally the octopus-woman that returns to Earth every few generations to have offspring with her offspring. I decided this was not the rabbit hole for me at this particular time. I have been continuing with this pattern all year (all five days of it!!) actually it’s been going on for weeks – I started drawing and painting and then realized I didn’t know what to do with all these paintings and drawings and painting and drawing take a lot of time and I want to learn the guitar again and how to sew and start a new writing project and also do a myth workshop and the list is endless. So, I stopped painting and started writing – why do I write? I do not know – I have like a bazillion things to say about winter, about transitions, and Janus and all these things – it all makes sense in my head – it begins good – but then it starts to split and spread, and I feel myself chasing the ideas – my ability to start is so much stronger than my ability to follow through and finish.
My Octopus painting
Last year, I finished my dissertation and I completed clearing out and selling my old home. I had two, very major areas of my life end. It was wonderful and liberating to be DONE – I do not have to work on the paper I worked on for more than five years. I do not have to deal with caring for a home I did not live in and things I did not use. I’m DONE – so the big question is – now what? Time to begin – and where better to begin than at the beginning. As a starter, actually finishing these two major milestones left me in a strange state. I like the freedom of not having these things to work on – but don’t really know what to do with myself. I know things to do – I have a million things to do, but what can I do that will be meaningful, that will be helpful, that will give me fulfillment? What makes me happy and how can I do that for employment? What makes me unhappy and how do I stay away from that? There are more questions about the future and the instability of the world makes the questions that much more difficult to answer.
According to the Romans, at the beginning – there was Janus. He was the first god to be invoked in prayers, the first month of the year is named after Janus, and his two faces represent the dual nature of beginnings – because we all know that beginning is exciting AND scary – it’s liberating AND paralyzing. It’s crazy and mixed up, but if we do it right – we can use January to reflect on the past, plan for the future, and be ok with the doorway of right now (the present).
The past does not exist, it is done – it only exists as a story. The future is also a story, we can make plans and can make predictions, but until it happens – it does not exist. Now exists, but it is always gone – now quickly become then. Trying to be in the now – to experience life and not be swept up in what came before an what goes on after is almost impossible – so we have to see now as the threshold of the past and present. Janus the god of thresholds, the god of in between has two faces. He looks both behind and forward. To me – this says reflection and planning. January is frustrating because planning is not doing. Planning is only telling the story of what you want to do. January is exciting because planning is full of possibilities. But does not just look forward with his plans – he also looks back. He reflects – and hopefully learns from the past. I think it is important he has his eye on both. The past without future is death and a future without a past is foolish. January – beginning the new year (ending the old one) is a time to winter, a time to plan, and a time to plan. This is the time the seeds lay dormant – but they are not dead. We can nurture those seeds – feed the ones we want to grow in the spring, summer, and reap in the fall and let those that harm us stay in the winter of the mind for next year’s reflections.
Women in the image of a two-faced Janus. A woman with a staff, stick. A woman with outstretched arms. VectorSome Janus images
Dr. Marrsβs presentation is called βReclaiming Medusa: A Look at Otherness in Storytellingβ
Reading Greek mythology, we are given the perspective of the gods or mortals that worship them. Chimera, Medusa, Cerberus, the Minotaur β all of these creatures share a common trait β they are βmonsters,β and they share a common fate β they are killed by heroes proving themselves to please the gods. The Greeks told the stories honestly, they did not want to insult or displease the gods; it would not occur to them to write the story from the perspective of the Minotaur as it knows it is being hunted by a hero trying to prove himself. His crime was being born different.
Perspective is everything in a story, the words we use to describe our characters create empathy or hatred in the heart of the reader. As an educator, I have watched our nationβs focus on inclusiveness change dramatically in just under twenty years of teaching and even more since I was an elementary student. Where we once understood that history is written by the winners, we now know the importance of including the story of the others, even the βvillain.β The more we can understand the villain, the victim, the hero, and the bystander; the more we can understand ourselves, our motives, and strive to be better to others.
In mythology, it is hard to find a perspective as overlooked as the story of the monsters. We have encountered figurative monsters in our lives and some of us have been monsters in our own stories. Working with Medusa and her family has opened my eyes to how much changing the storyteller transforms my understanding of myself and humanity in general. Ladon is not just a serpent, he is Medusaβs tender nephew, her sisterβs son. Each being has their own story and perspective.
Changing the roles in the story, making Medusa my hero, has empowered me to change my own story. Before I started working with the gorgon, I thought of the monsters in the myths like the common Greek citizen thought of them β as creatures to be disposed of because they were dangerous. This mindset seems to have carried over into Western civilizationβs treatment of βthe otherβ β whether it was another race, another species, or even our own environment. By reclaiming our monsters can we also learn to reclaim some balance β if not in nature, at least in our hearts?
About Dr. Marrs
Professionally, Dr. Tracy Marrs is an educator, a teller of stories, and an inspirer of creativity. Some teachers are known for their great knowledge in their field, others may be known for their ability to manage even the toughest classes; Dr. Tracy is known for loving her students and making them feel seen, heard, and respected. In addition to working in the K12 classroom, she often shares her depth of knowledge and skills in literature with community members by weaving literature and archetypal stories with art and creativity. She excels at distilling esoteric concepts and stories into modern-day understanding and integration. Dr. Marrs has hosted many gatherings for adults in her community interested in art, mythology, and psychology. Her work at the local schools has led her to community-wide creative workshops at the community center and at the schools in her neighboring community. She recently spoke at βThe Creative Psyche and Arts-Based Researchβ Conference in London on the connection between art and critical thinking. She loves her family, her life in the mountains, and their menagerie of animals. She is planning to continue to bring critical thinking, culture, and her unique love of learning to the members of her community and beyond. In her βspare time,β Dr. Marrs has been researching and writing a book based on Medusa and her family. The work was the inspiration for the presentation for our wonderful Mythologuim this year.
To hear Dr. Marrsβs talk and many others, join us at the Mythologium!
The Mythologium is a conference for mythologists and friends of myth. This yearβs Mythologium will be held July 28-30 in-person and online in the Pacific time zone.
Every Time, Choosing Life 
Dr. Tracy Marrs 