Caught in fear,
like this past year
of working hard never happened,
like I’ve made no progress at all,
like I have no say,
like I have no way to proceed.
Caught in sadness,
like life is meaningless,
like inside the struggle
to find a will
the pain only doubles,
like the light is disappearing
and I can’t find it
even as I stare into the blinding sun.
Caught in regret,
like I should have done better,
like my choices were all wrong,
like there’s no way out,
and as I look ahead the path is long
with no rest, no cure, no safe harbor
to welcome me home.
This fear, sadness and regret
must have something to teach me
about who I really want to be.
But right now,
there is only this feeling of being caught.
May I and all beings be free.
I taught a meditation workshop today
and only three people showed up.
From a profit-driven business standpoint,
it was a miserable flop,
not worth the time invested.
Luckily, I have access to other standpoints.
So when a young woman approached me
after the workshop, crying,
sharing that she remembered her deceased father
during our lovingkindness meditation,
when she appeared bewildered by her emotions
(even apologized for them),
and when I was able to praise her for her courage
and share with her that it was an honor and a privilege
to bear witness to her process—
I knew something bigger was at play here.
Today wasn’t about me turning a profit,
it was about me touching a life.
It wasn’t about material abundance,
it was about human connection.
It wasn’t about my personal glory,
it was about beholding the radiance
of a sweet soul coming home
after a long time away.
From this standpoint,
my workshop was a huge success,
and I am proud of the work that was done.
Just keep peeling back the layers.
As much as it hurts,
as scary as it is,
keep peeling back
the rage, fear,
anxiety, and sadness.
you’ll start to see the luminous being
waiting for you underneath all those layers.
you’ll come to realize who you really are
and why you’re really here.
Eventually you’ll understand
that the being you’ve uncovered
is the one you’ve been wanting all along.
In today’s prompt we’re asked to create a dream dictionary-esque interpretation of one or more of the words in this list:
I went with “seagull”. I’m a nature girl, and everything else besides “shark” is something manmade, and didn’t really make my heart leap up and want to crank out a poem. But seagulls are beautiful. So I’m going with “seagull”.
If you dream about seagulls, pay attention:
your psyche is speaking to you and
wants to tell you something.
If the seagull is floating on the surface of the water,
you are content to stay on the surface of consciousness.
Maybe it is time to stick your head under
and take a peek at the depths.
If the seagull is flying above the ocean,
you have broken free of limiting emotions.
Enjoy your new freedom!
If the seagull has become caught in a storm,
look for where in your life you might
be ignoring currents of feeling;
if you don’t address them, they will find you
and create noise and chaos until you do.
If the bird is with other seagulls,
you might consider exploring
a way to process your emotions
within a group setting.
If it cries, it’s time to speak up
about your feelings.
And if it’s eating from
a discarded carton of French fries
in a strip mall parking lot,
it’s time to clear away the litter in your life
and give yourself more healthy nourishment.
Today’s prompt is about simultaneity. I can handle that! I can handle this moment,
even if I do need a nap.
When I’m tired, hungry,
wanting to be held, heard and seen,
and my kids are tired, hungry,
pushing for TV time
and I Just want to be a good mom
and redirect them,
When it’s spring but it still feels like winter…
when I’ve committed to myself
to not be sad about him anymore
and when the sadness comes anyway
and threatens to engulf me,
when I’m tired writing this poem
but too stubborn to miss a day,
That’s how I know
there is something deeper at play here.
Today’s prompt encourages us to write about something abstract and personalize it by adding details. As I sit down to write I realize I’m very tired and I wonder if I’ll have the energy to write a poem at all. That’s where I am!
is nine months of living hell
with a husband who gave up.
Fatigue is my 98 pound body,
the thinnest it has been since high school.
Hopelessness is waking up (again)
in the middle of the night
drenched in sweat, wanting sleep.
Grief is realizing
he may never apologize
for destroying what we once were.
Acceptance is setting down the heavy burden
of righteous anger
because peace is more important.