Knowing myself better.
Diving deeper, exploring.
Looking up, looking out,
Reading, reading, reading,
exposing myself to new ideas,
a wealth of information,
developing a treasure trove within,
treasure no one can see and yet
a treasure that is more real than any other.
The medicine man sings
Invisible es mi camino,
and I sing along.
Taking a deep breath,
watching my mind
desperately attempt to understand
through the lens of the past,
and patiently, firmly
holding up and looking through a new lens—
a wide open future full of possibility.
It’s a constant struggle between my past and my future.
The past is familiar; it leaps up into my consciousness
and makes itself seen and felt again and again and again.
The future is unknown; it’s the stuff hoped for
and requires faith and focus to keep my vision clear.
I pray for the stamina to keep reinvesting my energy in my future,
to draw my attention back to the good things to come.
I pray for the time when his choices aren’t ricocheting in my mind
they way they’ve done for over a year—
and it’s been quite an interesting year.
Each day, I discover, I make a choice.
I can choose victimhood or empowerment;
but it’s always my choice.
May I always choose empowerment.
After all of this questioning and soul-searching
I remember brother Rumi talking about
how the quest leads us away
from the object of the quest.
Have I been searching in the wrong places all along?
Or was I led to all of these places
only to force me to see that they were
always pointing me back home?
I’d like to know how surrender works,
Show me, Essence of Life,
how to flow with the present moment
in gratitude and peace.
I’ve been in agony this past year
trying to figure out how this all will end,
but could it be that this is just the beginning?
I thought my life was over
when he told me our marriage was over,
but could it be that I’m being born into new life?
I’ve cried out many times to God
asking to be given the answers…
but could it be that I wasn’t ready for answers?
Could it be that I didn’t even know the question?
I chose trust as my word of the year
and I’ve struggled to understand what trust even is.
Could it be that my struggle is the opportunity
I was asking for this whole time?
Could it be that through struggling
and surviving the struggle,
I’ll learn to trust myself?
Could all of this,
the entirety of this experience,
be one long answered prayer
as I awaken to the truth of who I really am?
Could it be?
You’ve always shown up when I needed you.
You always helped me to get through.
I need you to be here now,
to be with me in full force.
Resilience, my friend,
show me how to make it through this.
Last year, when he said it was over,
you showed up
and helped me survive.
When I was a puddle on the floor,
you came to me and said,
Eat. Sleep. Meditate. Cry.
Take a walk. Take a bath.
Call a friend. Call on God.
Day after day
you helped me live through
heartbreak, betrayal and loss.
You helped me make it through one dark year.
I want you to show me
my deeper resourcefulness.
I want you to help me connect
to the best part of myself
and stay connected.
I want to move forward,
provide for myself and my kids.
Can I trust in you to be there for me?
You’ve always helped me in the past.
Can I trust in you now?
Most of my work is invisible,
and the fruits are so sweet,
but only I can taste them.
I want to share this work,
but words fail me.
They tell me to get a real job.
I have a real job…
two of them, in fact:
I am a mother
and I am a yoga teacher.
I work and work,
mothering and teaching yoga
but somehow the numbers don’t line up.
Then I wonder about the unseen world.
Could it be that the work I’ve done there
will at some point be made visible here?
All I know is that I must keep doing this work.
I pray for the strength and the faith to keep going
when I’m not sure how I’ll make it through the month.
I’m tired. I’m lonely. I want connection. I want closeness.
I’ll keep working,
and maybe the path will be made clear.
I want to trust you, God.
But how do I trust you? I’m scared.
I can’t see you, and I’m so down
I don’t even know if you’re real.
Repeat after me:
All is well.
Seriously? Is that all?
Can you trust that you will have air to breathe?
Can you trust that you will have water to drink?
Can you trust that you will have food to eat?
Can you trust that you will have a roof over your head?
Then you are doing just fine.
Repeat after me:
All is well.
Yes. I can do that.