It’s a constant struggle between my past and my future.
The past is familiar; it leaps up into my consciousness
and makes itself seen and felt again and again and again.
The future is unknown; it’s the stuff hoped for
and requires faith and focus to keep my vision clear.
I pray for the stamina to keep reinvesting my energy in my future,
to draw my attention back to the good things to come.
I pray for the time when his choices aren’t ricocheting in my mind
they way they’ve done for over a year—
and it’s been quite an interesting year.
Each day, I discover, I make a choice.
I can choose victimhood or empowerment;
but it’s always my choice.
May I always choose empowerment.
The day has unfolded in simplicity.
I got the children up
we had breakfast
they got on the bus
I remembered their lunches
and brought them to school.
Back home I tidied my house
I listened to music
I remembered being married to my husband,
being close to him;
I thought about where he is now
and with whom;
I finally got around
to downloading months and months
of my financial info
for the attorneys to pore over;
I sent out multiple emails,
pictures of my bills.
I had avoided doing this
because my financial straits
have been a source of
great shame and embarrassment.
But the day unfolded in simplicity.
It needed to be done
and without my stories bogging me down
I was finally able to do it.
My kids got back home early
from their half day of school.
They had popsicles in the sunshine;
my son climbed a tree.
I sat and looked at the flowers I planted
in the last week,
admired the beauty and the utter creativity
of Mother Nature.
I felt tired so I lay down.
My children followed me upstairs
to my room
and proceeded to wrestle
one another on the floor
right by my bed.
I got up, made myself a protein shake,
cleaned off the table outside,
sat down in the breeze,
sipped my shake…
and now I’m writing this poem.
It’s a simple day,
a simple life,
a beautiful life
without my story.
When you think you should’ve done better,
be gentle; allow yourself to try again.
Yes, be honest with yourself
and make clear choices about the next time,
but still, be gentle.
Would you admonish a toddler
for not knowing how to sprint a marathon?
I come home
not sure what home is.
I leave strangers
who feel more like family
than my blood relatives.
We return to our daily lives
and I wonder
Will I remember
what I saw here?
The weight of my routine
will come crashing back down;
do I have the strength to stand
for the truth that held me
in the farthest reaches
of my mind, my universe?
help me remember.
I want my journey to mean something.
I want to remember.
Doors opening to opportunities,
and my efforts blend in
with the wind, the rain,
and those who can help me.
I can’t tell anymore
where my thought ends
and reality begins.
What I see is a story in my mind.
Am I seeing rightly?
Let me go back to original thought,
and behind that,
the experience of awareness
prior to the self
that analyzed it.
Where am I
in all these layers of consciousness?
And so what if
I could hold myself accountable
for being the kind of person
able to create the kind of life
I’m really excited to be living?
What if I discovered my power
was in changing my perspective
when I could no longer
change my circumstances?
What if all the big questions
weren’t supposed to have answers,
but were instead just doors
opening to even bigger questions?
The Piano at 2:25 and at 3:00…
I’m standing at the edge
of my consciousness
peering over into the great abyss of space,
not sure whether I should be
scared as hell or ecstatic.
I can’t believe I’m here
and how lonely and excited I feel
all at once.
I shout out into the void
Why is there no map?
A voice answers
Because no one else has ever been here