Being held hostage for so long
makes freedom scary when it comes,
and I curse my tormentor
for finding another captive to ensnare.
I curse her, his new prey,
for allowing herself to be captivated by his charms.
I suppose I should instead feel sorry for her,
walking right into his trap as she has.
I suppose I should only feel compassion
as I look at their one year “anniversary” photo,
glasses of champagne on the table,
looking so pleased with themselves.
It’s only a matter of time
before he does to her
what he did to me.
And I’m free.
Why does freedom feel so scary?
It’s something about the cold wind
and the way the sun keeps hiding
behind the big, thick clouds
rolling through the sky today.
I’m feeling estranged from everything,
as if I didn’t get the memo
for some meeting
and everyone is there without me
while I’m wondering
where everyone else is
and why I’m not there with them.
Like the opportunity to connect
and I need to resign myself
to this feeling, forever.
like I know there’s more out there,
but I don’t know where I’m supposed to go
and what I’m supposed to do.
Feeling exhausted to my very bones,
knowing I have so much to do,
wondering how I’ll summon the energy
for the rest of this day
when my kids get home.
Wanting answers. Wanting comfort.
and knowing I’ll need to give it to myself,
because I am the only one who can
and I’m the only one who does.
It all comes back to this:
When I’m feeling melancholy, estranged,
lonely, uneasy, tired and full of longing,
I am the one I need most.
No one else is here to save me.
It’s up to me now
to be the one I’ve been waiting for.
I’ve been receiving the clear message
from my intuition,
or maybe from just good common sense
that I need to let go of my old stuff
in order to welcome new experiences
into my life.
if my heart is full of the past,
longing for a love that once was,
how can it beat with a new rhythm
for someone ready to share love with me now?
If my eyes see only my past
how can I train them
to look toward my future?
If my body is full of my past,
how can I teach it
to move and dance into a new reality?
I’ve been telling myself
that I was too depressed,
to start going through my stuff.
But Spirit has been speaking louder and louder
and now I am finally listening.
I realize that I’ve been scared to look at the piles of things
in my basement,
afraid of the memories they will trigger.
But today I feel strong, ready and willing
to face whatever it is, and clear it out,
so that I can have a new, spacious experience
and welcome what I really want into my life.
I’M GOING IN NOW.
WISH ME LUCK!
My house is going into foreclosure.
My husband stopped paying on it
when he moved out in April.
I’m not sure how much time I have left here,
and I don’t know where I’ll go if I have to leave.
My friends are starting to worry about me.
I ask them to pray instead of worry.
My mind is starting to worry about me.
I ask my mind to pray instead of worry.
There are many variables in this equation
but there is one thing I know for sure:
worry will not help.
Therefore, I refuse to worry.
It’s a struggle,*
but only because
it’s always been a struggle.
If I can change my mind,
if I can see a different way,
this might become
This is an opportunity
to slow down,
to the rhythms of my body-mind,
honor the self
that tries so hard to be good.
Can I love her
when she wants to scream?
Can I love her
when she is tired?
Can I appreciate
everything she has been through?
Instead of doing
what I’ve always done,
can I try something new?
If nothing else,
has given me an opportunity
to come home to myself
if only for this moment.
I want to find the Self
in all the swirls of emotion,
in the body aches and fatigue,
in the loneliness—
and I want to love her fiercely.
*Ladies out there, give me an AMEN if you too find yourself accosted with darkness and mood swings in conjunction with your moon cycle. It has been this way my whole adult life. What helps you manage to make it through those days of darkness until the sun breaks through the clouds again?
And guys out there…when your ladies get this way, have you found a way to help them make it through, or do you run in the opposite direction? I mean…it is INTENSE, after all, and hard to understand the sudden changes in temperament. My recommendation: buy her some flowers, run her a bath, make her some tea, and tell her you’re there for her and that you love her no matter what.
I need to forgive.
I need to believe.
I want to live.
But I want relief.
These feelings are too much.
They will swallow me whole.
I want to escape my mind,
but I cannot.
Caught in the trance of unworthiness*
Wondering what to do, where to go,
what to say and to whom,
which book to read,
what action to take,
how to stand, how to sit,
how to walk,
what to eat,
what to drink,
what to wear,
who will understand
all these questions, these doubts,
There is a darkness,
an unspeakable horror in me,
clawing to get out.
It visits me in my dreams at night
and wakes me up.
I feel exhausted by these nightly hauntings.
I want release, relief, respite
from being tossed around on these huge waves
in the infinite ocean of consciousness,
the surface of which
has been stormy for quite some time.
I’m tired of the turbulence,
tired of this endless transition
from what was familiar
into a new life that I cannot see or fathom.
They say I’m at the helm.
They say I have the power.
They say I can change my narrative, my perception,
They tell me I’m better off without him.
This is just talk,
and I am tired of being thrown about endlessly
on enormous waves out in the middle of nowhere,
no land in sight,
on a flimsy vessel that is sinking fast.
I have nearly drowned a thousand times
in the dark waters of my psyche.
Why do I keep thrashing my way to the surface?
I want a safe harbor, a home,
a place of belonging,
a tribe who knows and loves me.
Why in the moment when I most need connection
does it seem that no one is there?
Why with all of this love around
does it not show up in the way I’m wanting?
More questions than answers,
and afraid to go to sleep
because I know what waits for me in the darkness:
than any human should bear.
*Spiritual teacher Tara Brach talks about the trance of unworthiness in her book Radical Acceptance.