Tag Archives: faith

It Had to Happen

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I know now that it had to happen.
I’ve come to this realization before,
so bear with me, but you know how this works.
We keep circling and circling and circling back
to the same old stuff until one day we get it,
and we can finally set off on a new trajectory.
It had to happen.
I was comfortable, and comfort was making me complacent.
I knew deep down I was meant for more.
I longed to be met at my depth,
to be seen and held and loved by someone capable
of seeing my value and loving the woman that I was.
It wasn’t happening, and a part of me grieved deeply.
It wasn’t happening, and I resigned myself to a love
not quite deep enough to be congruent with my true nature.
I yearned for more, so deeply in my heart I yearned,
and a voice said that I was fooling myself,
that such a love wasn’t possible in this world.
I was determined to do the work inside myself,
to search for where I felt unmet and dissatisfied,
and discover how I could meet and satisfy myself.
Hence the meditation, the writing, the reading,
the sewing, the knitting, the kombucha making,
the therapy, the workshops, the trainings,
the research, the practice, the commitment to arete.
I secretly thought I was doing him a favor
putting up with his lack of depth, his lack of vision,
his inability to penetrate me fully to the core of my being,
to flower me open to bigger possibilities,
to take me open to God.
Well if this is it, I told myself,
then I may as well make the most of it.
So I kept going.
And then it happened.
He dumped me. ME.
Me, the mother of his children.
ME, his WIFE.
Me, his yoga teacher.
Me, his partner, his best friend.
He threw me away.
It had to happen.
It took a while, but I see this now.
At times I look jealously at intact families,
and I’m triggered by what was stolen from me.
But then my new mindset arrives and reminds me
It had to happen.
The comfort was making me complacent.
I had to be made extremely uncomfortable
to be forced out of this nest, this cocoon,
this cage of material wealth,
where my needs for food, clothing and shelter were met,
and the price I paid for it all was my authentic happiness.
I look back on who I was and I shudder.
I look forward to who I know I will be and I shiver.
I look within to the one I am now and I smile,
at peace with the fact that sooner or later,
it had to happen.



Strong

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I’m amazed I’ve been able to keep up this pace,
2-3 yoga classes a day for two months,
but I’m not just doing this for me,
I’m doing it for my kids and for my students too.
I’m doing it for the ripples of peace and goodwill
that flow out into the world
when I make just one person’s day a little brighter.
It’s amazing how I can find the strength to go on,
day after day, feeling tired, feeling wiped out,
feeling like I have nothing left at the end of the day,
and yet, each morning I wake up,
and I’m ready to do it all over again.
This feels like I’m being trained for something even bigger.
This feels like an opportunity to flex
my resilience muscles,
my endurance muscles,
my persistence muscles,
my faith muscles.
A year ago, I felt weak and destroyed,
devastated, betrayed, abandoned…
But now look…
Just look at how strong I am now.

Path of Destiny

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Industry. Productivity.
Recommitting to creating
a financially sustainable livelihood
doing what I love.
Being willing to go the distance,
to pay whatever the price
to live a life in alignment
with who I am at the center of my being.
I care not for the opinions
of those who settle for mediocrity;
they cannot help me.
I will not ask for permission
to walk this path of living
heartfelt into my divine destiny.
My clarity is my gift to myself.
I don’t need to change what I feel
and I am no longer afraid
of what arises from my depths
to be seen and heard and embraced
like never before.
Tomorrow isn’t guaranteed,
so I live this day as if it is my last,
heartfelt,
walking my path of divine destiny.

I Trust You God

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I was so scared.
Then I just kept repeating
I trust you God. I trust you God. I trust you God.
I was still scared.
But I breathed and kept saying
I trust you God. I trust you God. I trust you God.
Doors closed. So many doors.
Still I kept repeating
I trust you God. I trust you God. I trust you God.
One door opened.
It’s a miracle.
We’re going to be okay.
And still I’m repeating
I trust you God. I trust you God. I trust you God.

Listening To It

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I feel lost, alone, directionless, uncomfortable.
What is my purpose?
It says: You have no purpose.
But why I am I alive?
It says: There is no reason. You should end it.
But what about my children?
It says: They’d be better off without you.
And my yoga students?
It says: You’ve been lying to them all along.
It’s time they knew the truth.

But surely this will one day get better?
It says: Not for you. You will never be happy.
But what about nature? The sun? The forest?
The cycles of life?
It says: What about them? You’re still depressed.
You’ll always be depressed. Face it. End it.

But I can’t do that to them. To my friends. My family.
It says: Why not? They don’t care. Not really.
Not enough to help you or save you.

I know there are other voices in my head.
Why is It the loudest?

Sometimes Prayers

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In my search to find a home
for myself and my children
I reached out about a rental property
and found out that someone has already applied…
My first reaction was a jolt of anxiety,
and then a selfish hope that they would be denied…
but then I remembered that we live in
a universe of inifinite possibility
and I affirmed that either this or something better
would be available for me and the kids
in divine right timing.
When you reach desperation point
sometimes prayers
are all you have.

Just Let Go

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I shared with a group of spiritual sisters
the woes of my housing situation,
facing eviction, facing uncertainty,
not knowing what the next step is…
And they suggested that I simply let go.
Can I just let go?
The idea of moving
strikes terror in my heart,
even after paring my possessions down
as I have been doing the last couple of months.
What am I afraid of?
Why is letting go so hard?
They told me
so much good waits for me
on the other side of my fear.
When I move through my fear,
I’ll see even more clearly
the path ahead.
God, grant me faith
to surrender into this process of letting go,
allowing the old to pass away,
making space to embrace the new.