Opening into spacious awareness,
relaxing open into the moment
as it presents itself,
this is my practice.
I’ve been working on identifying the feeling,
and breathing into the center of it…
then breathing out a willingness to feel.
Not change, fix, analyze, interpret, judge or understand,
but just feel.
I felt called to bring this practice to my students
and have had the privilege to teach
four times already this week.
I am so grateful for this work where
I find something that helps and heals,
and then I get to share it with others.
How safe is it to share, to be vulnerable?
How safe is it to be honest
about what I’m really feeling?
I know that what I’m feeling is nothing new.
I know that there are countless humans
feeling the exact same thing I’m feeling
in this very moment.
If I had a friend feeling what I’m feeling,
I’d tell them
You are not alone.
I’m here with you.
What do you need?
In the absence of a friend to offer it to me,
can I offer myself this same kindness?
I know I can’t rely on someone else
to bring me the happiness I seek.
I know that the happiness is within me,
concealed by stories of unhappiness.
Now my job is to identify those obstacles to my happiness,
be willing to let them go,
and allow the happiness to emerge naturally.
God give me the strength
to love myself back to wholeness.
It could be said by many
that your past year
was so much better than mine,
what with all the
wining and dining,
the rock concerts,
the dinners with friends,
even a “romantic” trip to Paris.*
Yes, if you’re only concerned
with external matters
maybe your year was better…
But if you look a little deeper,
you would find
I made out far better than you.
This past year,
I learned about my Self.
I learned where my true power lies.
(Hint: Not with you!)
I learned about my responsibility,
my resiliency, my strength.
I went all the way down,
found the bottom,
and have chosen to come back up.
I touched my deepest sorrow,
reached out and held myself
through paralyzing grief,
searched for and found
a reason to keep going.
Long after your suitcases are unpacked,
the bottles of wine are empty,
the rockstars have left the stage,
and the weight of real life
(and maybe even
the weight of your next wife?)
has killed your libido,
I’ll be here, standing strong
in the beautiful world I’ve built…
*As romantic as Paris can be, in rainy cold January. Good luck with that.
Friends, some of you may have noticed in the past couple of months that I have periodically addressed Him…the one who shall not be named…the one who married me, had two children with me and then left the marriage, saying it was all my fault. If you’re wondering at all about my writing to him, permit me to explain. Once I realized that he was trolling my posts I decided to address him directly here on this blog…and I discovered as I did so that writing to him as if he were reading my words is quite cathartic. There were many words left unspoken between us, and while I’m still processing the major transition in my life that he initiated, I figured that anything that provides catharsis is a good idea! At some point this will all be a distant memory and I will no longer feel a need to speak to him, but for now, when the desire strikes as it did tonight, I’ll give him a piece of my mind. Who knows? Perhaps he’ll read my posts and learn something? We can only hope…
I was at home,
and it struck me…
If I’m feeling bad
and there is no one around,
I’m the one making myself feel bad.
If I’m feeling good
and there is no one around
I’m the one making myself feel good.
My thoughts are determining how I feel,
and this is true,
but only 100% of the time.
If this is true
when I am alone,
then it is true
when I am with others.
I can blame others
for making me feel a certain way,
but in the end,
I choose how I feel inside myself
based on how I respond
to the external circumstances of my life.
That sure is a lot of responsibility…
No wonder so few people take it.
I start to feel like I’m slipping.
Is it because I’m so tired?
Have I done too much today?
am I not here
to help others?
I should be doing more.
But I’m not feeling so great.
I don’t want to do anything
Stop being selfish.
But I need to put on
my oxygen mask
Stop being so self-absorbed.
I’m feeling lonely.
I don’t want to do this.
Stop whining. Buck up.
Get back to work.
But I’m tired.
So many voices in my head.
Which one is telling
Who would I be without my stories?
Just a woman, fingers dancing on keys,
sitting here, breathing, at peace.
My body danced this evening
and now it is spent.
My heart sang and laughed.
My hands painted and drew
and mothered and colored today.
Without my stories
this day was utter paradise.
Please Divine Spirit,
let me stay attuned to what is real,
that I may live in this one moment
grateful for what is.
I’m back in MD
after a long day of travel.
I’ll be honest…
It’s a let down
coming back to the cold
and the chaos of home
after the warmth
and the simplicity
of the desert.
I thought I did so much
work on my retreat,
the work of awakening,
of becoming more aware.
It turns out
the the greatest work