Tag Archives: confession

Christmas Shopping Confession

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I went to Target today
and joined in the spending craze
as is normal
for everyone caught up
in the Holy Daze.

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I was in there
for only a few things
but I must’ve been
swept up in a collective current,
people flowing all over the store
examining, reading, holding,
grabbing, putting back,
putting in cart, discussing,
buying, spending, meandering–
it was all quite neurotic,
almost feverish.
Suddenly I needed to have
a lot more than I came in for.
Were they atomizing
some chemical of mass consumption
in the air?
Were they piping subliminal messages
over the speaker system–
BUY BUY BUY“?
Suddenly my children needed
stocking stuffers
and I liked a couple of sleds
I saw here
more than the ones
I bought weeks ago.
(And now I have four sleds in my car.)
I question my judgement now.
I wonder about the ripple effects of my spending,
how it affects the world, ultimately.
And I thought I was going to simplify this year…

In Other News–A Confession and Some Questions

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Friends, I must confess, my son no longer wears diapers–hasn’t worn them in months–so I had to change my blog’s tagline to feel that I was in complete integrity with myself and my readers. Yoga still happens every day,  but now instead of dirty diapers, we have pee pants. Glad to have come clean with all of you about that.  Ah. Now I feel better!

I have been toying with the idea of completely changing the look and feel of this blog, because for some time my writing hasn’t been focused even a tiny bit on the rigors of motherhood and maintaining a yoga practice in the midst of all of it–which was my original vision for the blog and why I chose the name Yoga Mom in the first place.  I do maintain my practice, meditating every morning and trying as best as I can to maintain a yogic mind state throughout the day.  My children continue to challenge me to search for what is real beyond the illusion and push me to my limits every single day, God bless them.  But I haven’t been writing about these experiences, which makes me think that my blog name is misleading.  Have mothers and others come here hoping for humor and encouragement, only to see me spouting off poems about the path toward enlightenment?

Writing the poems does feel like a yoga practice to me though–it is time I consecrate every day to going inwards and searching for the words that will best convey what I think it is most important to share at that moment–and that inward journey is a meditation of sorts, a time of reflection, of concentration, of quiet. The poetry evolved out of the need to write quick, short posts.  After the loss of my meditation room I found myself with no consecrated space for writing and sitting, and have learned to catch as catch can.  Whereas before I could hole myself up in my tiny room for hours and write in agonizing detail about my day to day, now I have no such luxury.  At any given moment I could have many interruptions arise and no door to shut to keep them at bay. This has given me a sense of urgency in my writing, the need to get it done quickly, and I have seen the virtue in more concise wording, posts that require a much smaller time commitment from readers. Therefore, poems.

Is a name change in order? Can I have my poetry and my yoga mom blog too? Is there a way to write about my mothering experiences without it taking hours at a stretch?  If I were to return to posts about motherhood and the yogic path, would I need a separate space for my poetry? What would I call a poetry blog, given that I have been Yoga Mom for some time? Hmmmmmm. I think I have some mulling to do.  I will go and mull now. Namaste, and toodleloo!

(And if you have any thoughts or ideas about all of this, I’d love to hear from you.  I know that some of you are seasoned writers and could probably tell me a thing or two. Any pearls of wisdom or popcorn kernels of wit or even nuggets of nonsense will be much appreciated.) 

NaPoWriMo 2015 Day 29: A Review

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It was so cold for so long
I thought you would never get here
And then you teased me
for a few delicious days.

Then suddenly, mercilessly,
Old Man Winter came back and cackled,
placed icy hands around my poor heart and squeezed.

I just about lost all hope as I struggled to break free
of that cold, bony death grip…
But now you’re back,
I think.

I’m hesitant now.
Before I celebrate your return I must know–
How long will you stay?

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The prompt for today:  write a review. It was really open-ended.  I thought I’d write a review of this spring.  It ended up being more of a confession than a review, but that’s okay. Poetic license.