Living is hard, but healing is possible

At first glance, John Ortiz’s poem, “Life is So Easy, But Living So Hard,” seems like a thoughtful rhyme about the struggles of daily life, but in reality, it’s much more.

For Ortiz—a Navy Veteran living in Murfreesboro, Tennessee—the words are a mirror of his journey through hardship, recovery and self-discovery.

Ortiz first entered the world of the National Veterans Creative Arts Festival (NVCAF) over a decade ago. The 5-time invitee participated this year as a writer, submitting a piece that reflects the weight of living with invisible wounds.

‘The poem just poured out’

“This poem started from a debate I had,” Ortiz recalled. “Someone said, ‘Life is hard.’ And I said, ‘No, life is easy. Breathing is easy. Living, that’s the hard part because it takes action.’ From that thought, the poem just poured out.”

What began as a single sentence evolved into a fully formed, rhyming poem—a style Ortiz admits isn’t his usual. “Even the music therapist who first worked with me said, ‘You’re rhyming now?’ I guess that’s just how it came out this time,” he said with a laugh.

But Ortiz’s journey didn’t begin with poetry. It began in pain.

In the late 2000s, Ortiz was homeless—couch surfing with relatives and struggling with chronic back pain. A trip to VA for pain relief led to aquatics therapy, which in turn introduced him to a recreation therapist who encouraged him to participate in creative arts groups.

“He saw something in me I didn’t,” Ortiz said. “I joined this silly pool dance with five big, grumpy Vietnam vets. We floated a table in the pool and danced to the ‘Banana Boat (Day -O) Song.’ We didn’t know it then, but that was the start of everything.”

Their impromptu performance earned a bronze medal at the local VA competition and caught the attention of a music therapist. From there, Ortiz found a space where he could simply exist—sitting silently in sessions until gradually, music pulled him out of isolation.

“I started off with a hoodie on and headphones in, not even playing music, just sitting in the room. Over time, I began helping with sessions, running the CD player, joking with other Veterans. And one day I asked, ‘If I sing, can I come to the Thursday singing group?’ She said yes. And I never stopped coming.”

Learning to name emotions

Ortiz’s participation blossomed into a string of NVCAF appearances—singing duets, performances and ultimately writing. The festival gave him more than a creative outlet—it gave him a roadmap to recovery.

Through his time in music therapy and VA programs, Ortiz learned to name the emotions he had long suppressed—depression, anxiety, anger. Therapy revealed the emotional injuries beneath the surface of his physical pain.

“I thought it was just my back. But there was more damage. Through creative arts and therapy, I found the words and tools to really heal,” Ortiz said.

His healing journey also led him to higher education. With support from VA’s vocational rehab program, Ortiz enrolled at St. Joseph’s College, eventually earning a degree in recreational therapy.

That degree, his experiences and the connections he made at the NVCAF landed him a job as a recreational therapist at the Kerrville VA in Texas.

“So because of the creative arts, it got me on a journey of finding balance, health, friends and a job. Funny how the world works.”, Ortiz said with a teary-eyed smile.  

Ortiz encourages other Veterans to take the first step toward creativity, no matter how small. “Just do it,” he said. “The arts saved my life. If I hadn’t joined that silly dance in the pool, I wouldn’t be here. There’s healing in action, but you have to take that first step.”