I did it!
I taught FOUR yoga classes today, sweet lawd!
What amazes me about all of this
is that when I’m there with the students
I am so much in the zone
and so energized by the flow
that I feel awake even if I’m tired;
I feel strong even if moments before I felt weak.
Something magical happens when I do this work I love.
If you don’t yet have work that you love,
I highly recommend you find some.
It will make all the difference in the world, my friend,
it will make all the difference in the world.
Focus on the positive
Even when you’re crazy tired
or feeling just plain crazy
This moment will pass.
Nothing lasts forever.
Everything is temporary.
Even when you think all is lost,
Flowers grow in the cracks of cement,
rains come to drench the parched earth.
The stars come out whether we see them or not
and the cicadas hum their strange song
whether or not we can hear them.
In this great medicine wheel of life
there is always something being offered by this moment.
Summon your courage
and be willing to take your medicine.
I give the good medicine that heals.
My voice carries magic
that soothes, uplifts and restores.
My touch brings life and renewal.
I watch as tension melts away
and peace returns to those
who come seeking the healing I offer.
I instruct them to remain present.
I remind them that we only have this now.
I can articulate perfectly
how our brains are hardwired
to remember negative information,
and how there is so much hope
our brain’s capacity to be reshaped.
I marvel at this ability
to give my students what they need,
to instruct poses that strengthen,
balance, reshape and empower,
to guide their breathing,
slow their heart rates
and allow the present moment
to blossom like a flower within them.
But when it’s time for me
to take my own medicine—
well, let’s just say
that I’m a wonderful doctor
but a terrible patient.
Stuck in darkness.
Swallowed in a feeling of futility,
waiting for it to end.
What is the solution?
I’ve tried everything I could
and now I’m told
medicine might help.
My feelings are valid.
My circumstances are challenging
and every time I reach out for support
my arms aren’t long enough
and my cries aren’t loud enough;
despite my best efforts to connect
I find myself engulfed
in utter loneliness.
If you’ve never been here before
you might find it hard
to relate to these words.
If you’ve been here before
tell me how you got out.
If you are here now with me,
let me know.
Let me know I’m not alone.
Back from a healing ceremony
where many tears were shed
and songs were sung
and layers upon layers
of old outworn behaviors
and patterns of thinking
were peeled up and released.
I pray that I can stay clear and open.
I recognized in the middle of ceremony
that there is nothing to escape from…
that this desire to get away
is an old survival mechanism
that no longer helps me.
I sat up tall and still
in the middle of extreme discomfort
And I heard Spirit whispering to me
Stop fighting. Just surrender.
Let grace move through you.
Let go. Release. Trust.
It was a long night.
Neural circuitry was being rewired.
Birth can be so painful.
I just wanted to be free
from the grip of my fear
and the stranglehold of my past.
I kept breathing throught this desire for freedom,
kept breathing through my fear,
my doubt, my judgment.
I came to see that no matter what arises
in my experience
it is always here to serve my awakening.
If I can just remember that one thing,
I could maybe, just maybe,
learn to trust in this moment.
All of a sudden,
I gave myself permission
to be happy,
to learn how to tolerate
to raise my threshold
to stop holding myself back,
I had given myself
the most potent medicine there is:
S E L F L O V E
Leaving on a journey of initiation.
I took a purifying bath
of lavender and epsom salts,
lit four candles,
called on four archangels
and prayed for guidance.
Let me die to who I was
so I can become
who I was born to be.
Let me surrender what I knew
to make space for what Spirit
wants me to know.
Let me look with the eyes of love.
Let my heart open wide
and my courage be expressed
for the highest good.
I go to sit in ceremony
with the Mother.
I ask her to take me into her arms,
shake from me the excess
and reveal the tender sweetness
of raw, vulnerable being.
Pray for me.
I’ll see you on the other side.
We argued about priorities,
the two children, and running errands.
Daughter’s ear hurt
but Son was sleeping,
and I, who used to be Wife,
am just plain tired.
The used to be Husband
had errands to run.
Take them both, he said.
Wake him up, take them both
to the doctor.
I can feel the rage rising up.
He had an affair.
He left us; he left us before he met her.
He left us before we became
Mother and Father.
He left us while I was carrying Daughter
He left us while I was carrying Son
He left us while I tried my best.
He left us when in pain he sought
the embrace of another.
Even when he was here,
even when he said he was committed,
he was always leaving.
The anger burns white hot, distracts
me from the grief that wants to drown.
We argue about prioirites,
the two children, and who is right or wrong.
Now Daughter is sleeping.
I am grateful, so grateful
Today’s prompt encouraged us to try something new with our line breaks. I always go on what looks and feels good in the moment, and there nearly always is a part of me that feels anxious, doubtful and asks, “Am I doing this right?” Luckily for me and my poetic output, there is another part that always shrugs and responds, “Poetic license, baby!” So all freedom to do whatever the hell I want aside, it’s good to try something new. I enjoyed writing this poem with a different way of breaking the lines, and that’s what matters in the end.
To rise above.
To feel the pain
and take the good medicine.
My posture has changed;
for now more humble,
This turning into myself
doesn’t reduce me,
the way a daytime flower
folding into herself
during the coolness of night
doesn’t reduce the splendor
of her awakening
to the next day.
I am nurturing seeds of potential
and when the time is right
they too shall experience
a breaking open
and a deep, sighing welcome
to this life
of infinite possibilities.