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…
If healing were easy
everyone would be doing it
but there is no switch,
no magic wand
no quick fix.
And it doesn’t work to focus on the surface,
shining up the exterior
while the interior is full of darkness;
the light must shine everywhere.
it doesn’t work to replace one extreme
with another either.
It’s not about eradicating the darkness
so that there is only light;
we learn through contrast,
and the darkness has its place
in this great wheel of life.
Balance is the key,
and acceptance that everything changes.
If we could drop the unreasonable expectations
and open our hearts to what is alive in this moment,
we might discover that the antidote to our pain
lives within the pain itself.
Our adversity is our greatest teacher.
I saw your eyes
and knew who you were.
You saw my eyes
and knew who I was.
And here we stand,
thousands of miles of apart
and yet perfectly close together.
Joining in this delicious wanting.
Where is the balance point
between the effort and the ease?
Where is the grace
that allows forgiveness to find me?
Where is the sweet one
who will coax my heart out of hiding?
Where is the soul nourishment
that will sustain me?
I keep trying, trying, trying.
I’m exhausted from the effort
of teasing apart the jumbled mess
of other people’s perceptions
and finding my true self
concealed somewhere deep within.
Where am I,
who am I,
in the midst of all of this chaos?
I’m discovering that
it takes more courage than I thought
to keep going in the face of uncertainty.
A part of me envies
those with established lives:
established work, established relationships,
complete with vacation plans, retirement plans,
and even plots for what remains of them
one day when they’re done with this earthly life…
Another part of me knows
that my spirit would wither and die
if I were made to exist within the confines
of so much familiarity.
Yes, my wild spirit
would not condone all these plans.
So where is the balancing point?
I’m tired of the anxiety that comes
from not knowing where I’m going.
I’m tired of feeling guilty and ashamed
that at this point in my life
I still haven’t “figured it out.”
More questions than answers,
and so easy to blame the one
who pulled the rug out from under
the stability I once enjoyed
as the female parental unit
in our family of four.
Faced with so much uncertainty,
I want to run and hide,
I want to escape…
but from what? From whom?
I realize there is no escape.
I cannot run from myself.
I cannot distance myself
from the one who craves stability
and who at the same time
wants to live wild and free.
How can I bring these warring factions
to rest within the space of awareness?
How can I get them to settle
and engage in some quality peace talks?
Ah, answer me that and I’ll dub you a shaman,
a wise one, a mentor, a guide.
Come to think of it,
seems like I need one of those right about now.
The purpose of the Dark Night
is to better see the light of day
when dawn arrives
and we realize we are still living.
The hurt we feel
helps keep us real
for all others who are hurting.
And the steps we take to heal the hurt
give us the strength to show up
and convey the honest truth
to those who have forgotten.
In the fullness of time
the wounds heal
and reveal the delicate dance
of life balancing on the precipice
of sadness and joy.
Come to the balance point
and regard the potential for both,
everywhere around you.
Trust that there are no mistakes
and allow the dance to inform
the deepest layers of your being.
Always in a space of becoming,
we are all dreamers, doers, thinkers,
lovers, artists, scoundrels
and precious fools
fumbling through this one little life.
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