I began the day in prayer,
turning it over,
asking God for guidance.
I felt good, knowing
everything would be ok.
The morning sun
gilded every leaf on the trees outside my window
and the autumn sky was a powdery blue
so soft it nearly broke my heart.
I moved and moved and moved more stuff
from my old house into my new.
I worked and worked and worked.
By evening my mind was worn,
my temper was hot
and I didn’t want to do one more thing for anybody.
Then I wondered if the struggle between good and evil,
darkness and light,
was really a stuggle between
the fresh mind of a person newly awakened
and the tired mind of a person ready for sleep…
What would happen
if I just let go?
What would happen
if I set down the illusion of control,
and I just let myself be held?
I’ve been praying for guidance,
yearning to yield gracefully
to the flow of life in and through me.
But how does one actually let go?
I can grasp the idea,
but holding a thought
is different from the actual experience
of surrender in my body, heart, mind, spirit self…
I’ll keep breathing and praying,
hoping that eventually I learn
how to simply be…
I sit here tired at the end of the day
and it feels like I don’t have much to say
to inspire or uplift or heal or comfort…
I’m just grateful for the quiet,
the sound of the night symphony,
insects whirring and buzzing,
the whoosh of an occasional car passing by,
a neighbor’s music floating in from somewhere.
. . . . . . . . . . .
I ask myself if I shouldn’t write these poems earlier,
when I first wake up
and the day is bright with promise
and I’m simply glad to be alive
and I still have energy to dream of what might be.
And which Lorien is really me?
The fresh, first thing in the morning meditator
or the tired single mother,
grateful that summer is almost over?
. . . . . . . . . . .
They’re both me of course,
but somehow the morning me
seems more desirable
than this tired, nighttime me who has been
completely used up by this day.
I suppose I need to hear from both of them,
because I am a full-spectrum human being,
because we are all full-spectrum human beings,
but sometimes we forget that the darkness
is just as relevant as the light,
and the movement of morning
isn’t necessarily more valuable than the stillness of night…
Get it right.
Don’t mess up.
This is a life or death situation.
No room for mistakes.
One error could be lethal.
—my mind, right as I’m waking up
Suddenly I recognized
I didn’t have to worry anymore,
I didn’t have to struggle anymore,
I didn’t have to prove myself to anyone,
I didn’t have to fight to survive.
Suddenly I realized that peace is here, now.
I didn’t have to change anything,
understand, analyze, anticipate,
modify, regret, like, dislike,
or hope for anything.
I didn’t have to communicate anything.
Suddenly I realized that this moment
holds the key to everything
and there is nothing lacking.
And for the first time I felt free.
I cycle up
I cycle down
and I’m not talking about riding my bike
I’m talking about riding the waves
of my own body
and the cycles of hormones
and how there are no brakes
no turn signal.
The jig is up.
I’m on to you.
I know how you work now.
I know that you’ve been conditioned
to believe negative thoughts,
and you are going to keep regurgitating
until I choose to train you otherwise.
Well, my dear brain,
I’m choosing to train you otherwise.
I won’t believe all those horrid things he said.
I won’t believe that I was worthless.
I won’t believe that it was all my fault.
I won’t believe that I was just a taker—
I know I wasn’t.
Brain, it’s time for the TRUTH.
I did everything I could.
I was ENTITLED to my own thoughts and feelings.
It just didn’t work out between us,
and this wasn’t my fault.
I tried to get us to marital therapy.
I tired to share my experiences, my hopes and fears.
I thought if I worked hard enough on me,
things would get better.
It’s not my fault.
Brain, I can’t stay married
to someone who just doesn’t love me, okay?
I can’t stay married to someone
who isn’t willing to be responsible for their part.
I can’t stay married to someone who blames me
for everything that goes wrong in their life.
Brain, I deserve more, do you hear me?
I deserve so much more.
I deserve someone who loves me
not in spite of my shortcomings
but because of them.
I deserve someone who lights up
when I walk into the room.
I deserve to be made love to
so tenderly and sweetly,
with care and reverence.
I deserve to be celebrated for my gifts,
and supported and encouraged in their expression.
After all this time, brain, the jig is up.
You don’t get to tell me how this goes anymore.
I don’t want my present to be a recycled version
of my painful past.
I get to choose. And I choose love.
And health. And happiness. And celebration.
Thanks for listening.