I’ve been in agony this past year
trying to figure out how this all will end,
but could it be that this is just the beginning?
I thought my life was over
when he told me our marriage was over,
but could it be that I’m being born into new life?
I’ve cried out many times to God
asking to be given the answers…
but could it be that I wasn’t ready for answers?
Could it be that I didn’t even know the question?
I chose trust as my word of the year
and I’ve struggled to understand what trust even is.
Could it be that my struggle is the opportunity
I was asking for this whole time?
Could it be that through struggling
and surviving the struggle,
I’ll learn to trust myself?
Could all of this,
the entirety of this experience,
be one long answered prayer
as I awaken to the truth of who I really am?
Could it be?
I want to trust you, God.
But how do I trust you? I’m scared.
I can’t see you, and I’m so down
I don’t even know if you’re real.
Repeat after me:
All is well.
Seriously? Is that all?
Can you trust that you will have air to breathe?
Can you trust that you will have water to drink?
Can you trust that you will have food to eat?
Can you trust that you will have a roof over your head?
Then you are doing just fine.
Repeat after me:
All is well.
Yes. I can do that.
Resisting the broken places
won’t heal them;
they’ll only get louder and more broken.
But how to love what hurts?
How to accept that these feelings are here
to be embraced as they’ve never been before?*
You must trust.
But how do I trust
when all evidence points to
nothing trustworthy in the universe?
You must have faith.
But how do I have faith
when it feels like
I’ve been brought to the pit of hell
and abandoned there?
You must love.
But how do I love
when all I feel is anger, sadness, and loneliness?
You must breathe.
I think I can do that.
*An idea from Matt Kahn’s book, Whatever Arises, LOVE That
Hi everyone. I arrived back in Maryland on July 31 after a wonderful trip to Colorado where I was taken care of in every way by a dear friend who knows what I’ve been through this past year. I felt really good and positive for about a week, but then real life came crashing down on me, and I’ve been dealing with the depression and anxiety again.
As I’ve been paying closer attention to my daily routine—of which this blog has been a part for the last five and a half years—I’ve been asking myself what kind of value my posts here are to others. If I’m writing my daily poetry and focusing on what is wrong, I believe that I’m contributing to an atmosphere of sadness and anger on planet earth. This is not what I want for me, you, or for this blog.
So I’ve been really wondering what kind of value I can add to anyone’s life here on Yoga Mom. Can I focus more on yoga? Can I share breath work techniques, yoga poses? Can I talk about mindful parenting?
I’m not sure what shape I want the blog to take at this point, but I’m absolutely open to any ideas that you’d like to send my way. I started off the blog for myself, as a means to find the self-expression that had felt so hampered in the midst of raising young children and being in what I’ve come to realize was a highly abusive marriage. I never expected to have people actually following my posts and reading my words, but now with over a thousand followers I feel it is my social obligation to focus on what is good and real and true in life, instead of on what is bringing me down.
If you have any thoughts or ideas about how I can do that here, I’m all ears.
Thanks for reading,
Just get through today,
my recovery friends tell me.
Just get through the next hour,
the next minute.
I ask myself what got me here,
wondering how I’ll make it through
one more minute.
It’s a soul contract,
my spiritual buddies tell me.
everything you were meant to
and now the relationship
has run its course.
You can let go now.
and all I feel is the pain.
When did the pain start?
Surely before I married him.
I must’ve brought it with me
into the marriage,
and somehow, together,
we activated it
so that I could learn.
Can I thank him
for giving me a chance
to see and work through
my old pain?
Can I have faith
that Divine Love
brought me here
but won’t abandon me here?
Can I trust
that everything will work out?
I return home to an empty house.
I’m reminded of what I once had,
what is gone now.
They tell me You’ll get better,
You’ll get stronger.
They tell me
This is the best thing
that could’ve happened to you.
But what do they know?
Slogging it out,
one day at a time,
one year at a time,
on most days
I feel too tired to be grateful,
and yet I keep pushing through.
I write in my gratitude journal:
I woke up today.
My sitter was able to come.
I was able to pay for lunch today.
They tell me my gratitude
will open up the gateway to abundance.
But will it help me to live
when I have no money left in my bank account?
Searching for meaning
in all of this suffering,
this feeling of powerlessness,
My friend said,
I want to believe her.
But what is the truth anymore?