When the light fades
and we are plunged in darkness,
we look to the strong ones
who remember the light,
who can encourage us to remember too.
When your dark time comes,
may you find such a strong one
to lift you up and remind you of the truth.
And maybe, just maybe,
that strong one is YOU.
She keeps striking out in the darkness,
but there is no one there to fight.
The shadows dance and slip away,
and she is exhausted to her very soul,
sparring with aggressors that don’t exist.
How to be successful in battle
when the one she fights
is on the inside?
Enveloped in complete darkness,
she spells out clearly from her depths
words like ropes reaching,
asking someone to take hold
and pull her out.
Maybe if enough people
take just one thread of her words,
maybe she’ll be lifted out of her pit
and see the light of day once more.
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.
If I am not the mean voice inside my head,
who am I ?
Am I any less the mean voice than the loving one?
And just who gets to determine who I am?
A houseful of belongings,
no motivation to figure out where they’re going,
and the clock ticks away unrelentingly.
This house is not my own.
Then again, neither is this body.
I rented this form from Planet Earth
and to her it shall return.
What will I do with this borrowed time,
as each day draws me closer to my death?
I dreamed of self-realization…
for the longest time I thought
each day would unlock a little more of the mystery.
But in the wake of this rude transition
from married to single
from wealthy to impoverished
from homeowner to homeless,
what does this self-realization journey matter?
Will God come and save me if I’m living in a box?
I need to take action,
and my will is gone.
My creative spark is snuffed out.
Or maybe these words provide a glimmer?
Someone had to write them.
Who is she?
I guess it isn’t all gone…
I wake up
and something’s different.
I see the sun.
I’m glad to be awake.
I have energy.
I’m excited to start the day.
I make berry salad
for our breakfast;
the kids and I enjoy
these colorful jewels
the earth grew
for our nourishment.
I feel so much love
my heart might burst.
My home is peaceful.
After the kids get on the bus
I come back home.
What is this feeling?
What is different?
And then I realize
I know what this is:
I feel better.
Stuck in darkness.
Swallowed in a feeling of futility,
waiting for it to end.
What is the solution?
I’ve tried everything I could
and now I’m told
medicine might help.
My feelings are valid.
My circumstances are challenging
and every time I reach out for support
my arms aren’t long enough
and my cries aren’t loud enough;
despite my best efforts to connect
I find myself engulfed
in utter loneliness.
If you’ve never been here before
you might find it hard
to relate to these words.
If you’ve been here before
tell me how you got out.
If you are here now with me,
let me know.
Let me know I’m not alone.