Tag Archives: poetry

What Now?

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I taught all my yoga classes
(seven in three days)
and I am exhausted.
I had dinner in Westminster
with my cousin and her family,
gave my father a card and a hug.
Back home the loneliness sets in.
My kids are with their dad and his girlfriend,
and I keep seeing
families playing together,
wondering how my life got to this,
where I’m working myself to exhaustion
just to make ends meet,
homeless in less than a month,
angry at the injustice,
lonely without my kids.
I want this to change.
I am willing to change.
But I need help to see beyond my pain.
What now?

Perpetual State of Becoming

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What if there were a reason for all of this?
What if my entire life had to fall apart
and be swept away
to make room for the unfolding
of my true destiny?
What if the only way my destiny could unfold
was through this very uncomfortable healing process
that required the old to be stripped away
so that the new would have space
to blossom and bear fruit?
What if I’m merely in the stage
of planting seeds,
and I need to be even more patient
as they germinate and begin to grow.
What if we are perpetually
in a state of becoming…?
Could I accept that I’ll never be done?

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.

Choosing Peace

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We are making hundreds of choices
in every given moment,
although we are moving so quickly
that we barely notice any of them.
The way we breathe,
the way we move,
where we look,
how we speak,
how we think,
what we give our attention to—
just to name a few.
These past few weeks,
rife with uncertainty
and volatility,
I have come to realize
in a deep, visceral way
how much my choices matter
and how conscious I need to be
of what I’m choosing in any given moment.
Sure, I’m supposed to be out
of this house by July 15,
sure I have no idea
where I’ll live,
sure I haven’t even begun packing yet;
sure there are so many unknowns…
If I focus on any of that,
I’ll drive myself into a panic attack
in an instant.
Instead I can choose to see
that in this moment I am safe.
I can choose to condition my nervous system
to really know
that in this moment all is well.
One day at a time
the answers will become clear;
one way or another
I will cross the bridge
from this old place of sad memories
to a newer, better life
for me and my children.
In any given moment,
the choice is clear.
I choose peace.

Option A

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I spoke with a man today
who specializes in the psychology
of humans being evicted from their homes.
He gave me some sound advice:
This is a low point;
you can only go up from here.
Money is no big deal;
you can always make more of it.
As long as you and your children are healthy,
everything is going to be just fine.
Don’t focus on two years from now,
just deal with whatever problems arise today.
You’ll get through this
and someday this will just be a memory.
It’s awful, but it’s temporary.

He shared that he had lost his house
during the recession over ten years ago.
It helped to know
that he was coming from experience
instead of blind sympathy.
My task now is training my brain to know
that I am safe in this moment,
and conditioning my nervous system
to respond with relaxation
in the face of challenge—
or at least to have a positive mindset
about the challenges.
It feels like a superhuman feat
to trust, to have faith, to breathe,
to choose my mindset…
But the alternative is despair.
I’ll go with Option A.

Disenfranchised

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I found out today
that even though I could afford it,
I don’t qualify for the apartment
I wanted to lease
in order to keep my kids in the same school zone…
because (according to them) my income is too low.
I live in one of the richest countries on earth,
and I am being forced further into poverty.
So I reached out to my children’s father,
asking him to be a guarantor,
with the understanding that he would provide
no further support than what is court-ordered
in our marital settlement agreement.
BIG MISTAKE.
This just opened the door
to more narcissistic abuse…
criticism, shaming, belittling,
blaming.
I shared my experience
in the relationships group
of my meditation app,
and the moderator took it down,
saying that I needed to keep with the
theme of relationships
and not focus so much on finances.
CAN YOU SEPARATE RELATIONSHIPS AND FINANCES?
No, I don’t think you can,
because life costs money,
and money is one of the most
stressful aspects of any relationship.
Just a few thougths from a poor
single mother yoga teacher
who will most likely have to give up
yoga teaching because
there simply isn’t enough value placed
on helping people awaken to their true nature,
breathe, relax and feel joy in the moment…
It’s much more important to
drive the cogs of the machine.
Thanks for listening.

Apparently

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I’m praying every chance I can get
God please show me what to do,
I’m struggling, please guide me.

In the morning I wake up thinking
I choose to love myself
because I deserve my love.

I keep telling my story.
It gets exhausting telling my story.
I tell it to my friends. Therapists.
Anyone who will listen.
They all say, You got this.
It will all be okay in the end.

But I want someone to rescue me.
I want someone to come along
and make these problems disappear.
And God, Grace, The Universe,
or is it just my luck,
continues to send me people
who listen to my story
tell me You got this
and who walk away.
Because apparently
I need to solve my own problems.
Apparently, I need to realize
that I’m stronger than this.
Apparently, I need to walk this path alone.
There are people cheering on the sidelines,
but I guess I need to walk this path alone.*

*And I have to tell you, it’s lonely down here in this big black hole…