I breathed in your fragrance and I didn’t stop breathing.
Now I am in a different dimension, constantly coupled with you.
I care nothing of the world I left behind.
This new world with you is all I’ve ever wanted.
At what point does one feel ready
to reinvent oneself?
At what point do we become willing
to release the pain imprinted in our DNA
and write a new story for ourselves?
If we identify with our pain
we won’t be willing to let it go,
because its leaving would signify our dying.
But we need to die
to be reborn to eternal life.
If the self isn’t pain,
what is the self?
If the pain died away,
if it dissolved into the nothingness
from which all thoughts come,
who would be there
to witness what remains?
Let me find that witness.
I’m tired of all this surface stuff.
I’m ready for a deep conversation.
It occurred to me
that every second I spend
trying to get him
to give me the money
that is mine by law
is a second I divert my attention
from the mission
of creating my own money
by offering value to the world
doing the things I know how to do best.
I’m choosing to let go.
I was told not to hold my breath
so I’m breathing,
slowly and deeply
and with gratitude
that I can wake up to this moment
and open to being taught.
Slowly it dawns on me
how I’ve been complicit
with the old paradigm
how, out of loyalty to what I was taught,
I sabotaged my own hopes and dreams,
and pushed away opportunities
for healing and expansion,
to choose what was familiar–
and this was all largely
It also dawns on me
that the way I was back then
was the only way I could be,
and like every other human,
it was only when I was ready
that I could change.
Still working on changing…
could I shift to allowing?
From pushing to flowing,
from effort to ease,
from toiling to relaxing,
from fighting to surrendering?
I’d like to see myself
after forty days and forty nights
of relaxing into the flow of being.
So be it.
I’m just wondering
when the day will come
that not one shred of anxiety
disturbs my peace,
from the time I wake up in the morning,
until the time I lay my head down at night.
How do I cultivate
How can I remember to breathe
slowly and deeply
all throughout the day
(and not just for the 30 minutes of morning meditation)?
How do I take the meditation with me,
so that I don’t just practice peace,
but I become peace?
The to do list hasn’t shrunk,
but somehow I’m feeling less afraid.
If anything, I have more responsibilities,
but somehow I’m feeling more peace.
Am I fooling myself?
I don’t think so.
Maybe it was waking up early,
sitting in the quiet
while the world was still dark.
Maybe it was the run I took
in just above freezing temps…
Maybe I remembered to breathe more.
Maybe I realized I can trust more,
I can have faith,
I can believe in myself
and the ability to pull through
each challenge one by one.
I don’t know exactly how it happened,
but somehow it did,
and right now, I’m smiling.
I thought I knew what I was thinking.
I had built up so many stories about her.
I had judged her.
I had replayed in my head
the scene of our last interaction
hundreds, if not thousands, of times.
I thought that it would be terrible
seeing her again.
I felt guarded and justified in my disconnect.
And there she was today, quiet, listening intently.
She gave me a hug. She smiled.
I felt brave. I shared.
She had been doing the work too;
I could see it on her face.
She is so much like me
and I like who I see.
I actually enjoy being with her.
She isn’t who I thought she was.
I’m glad she’s here.
Life surprised me today.
I thought her visit was going to be terrible.
It ended up being a miracle.