Tag Archives: hormones

The Best I Can


First I ask for their forgiveness
and then I attempt to forgive myself.
I didn’t want to lose my temper
I didn’t want to jump up and down
and yell
and get red in the face.
But I’m tired, and sick, and human,
and sometimes I just lose it.
The critic said to me,
See? Five years of daily meditation
have done nothing for you.
You still lose your temper.
You are an imposter.
I said to the critic
If you think this is bad,
imagine how I’d be without meditation.
And then I forgave myself.
For what?
For listening to the voice
that told me I should have done better
than I was able to do.
I am, like everyone else on this blessed planet,
doing the best I can.

Always a Mother


Sometimes I’m a monster.
The hormones rage,
awakened by a child too many times
in the night
sleep deprivation depriving
me of insight,
cannot see the light.
Patience is gone,
replaced by rage,
I’m an animal in a cage.

I’m loud, I stomp, I slam,
I feel put upon, resentful,
exhausted, alone.
Then comes the guilt
for not being better.
When it’s like this,
I often forget that…

Sometimes I’m a saint.
Most of the time
I meet my children
with tenderness and kindness
when they are grumpy,
resistant, messy, loud,
and mostly oblivious to my efforts
toward their happiness.
I cuddle and hold them close,
I tell them how important they are,
how special, how dear,
how glad I am that they are here.

I love from the deepest part of me
and forgive every single thing,
because I see their purity,
their goodness,
their absolute trust in me,
and I want to be worthy of that trust.

Sometimes I’m a monster.
Sometimes I’m a saint.

Always I’m a mother.

Mood Swing Monster


Today I am a victim of fluctuating hormones. I feel trapped in a prison of rage. I am uncontrollably reactive, and explode angrily when my kids are messy, whiny, and needy–which appears to be all of the time, from my perspective, on this particular day. Immediately after I snap at my kids for doing normal kid things, I feel remorseful and ashamed, and inwardly beat myself up for not being more patient, kind, and loving, for not setting a better example. I am exhausted, overwhelmed, overworked, and I feel awfully alone. I have terrible PMS.

Why does it have to be this bad?

This is a perfect moment to look to yoga for some answers. These struggles inside my own mind can be met with some consciousness. ¬†Yoga is the cessation of the fluctuations of the mind, bringing it to stillness so that one can experience one’s own aliveness. With the kids down for nap, I have a moment–just one tiny moment–to be still, breathe, and think.

This isn’t so bad. This day will get better.

I’m not the demonic mother I thought I was fifteen minutes ago when I got angry at my daughter for not cleaning up her Fiddlesticks and stuffed animals. Maybe I haven’t ruined her self-esteem and her trust for the rest of her life. Maybe she will turn out okay in spite of my explosive anger.

Should I take medicine? Is this normal? Is my behavior harmful to my children?

Breathe. Just breathe. Just breathe. This will get better. Be patient with yourself, and with life.

I’m going to lie down now and give myself some much needed rest–if my daughter stays in her room and lets me have some time for myself. My kitty has slumped all of her weight against me and is purring like mad. Cats are the ultimate yogis; present, observant, enjoying the comfort that is there, they appear so regal and centered and content.

I want to be more like my cat.