Tag Archives: questioning

What Waits in the Darkness

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Caught in the trance of unworthiness*
Wondering what to do, where to go,
what to say and to whom,
which book to read,
what action to take,
how to stand, how to sit,
how to walk,
what to eat,
what to drink,
what to wear,
who will understand
all these questions, these doubts,
these fears.
There is a darkness,
an unspeakable horror in me,
clawing to get out.
It visits me in my dreams at night
and wakes me up.
I feel exhausted by these nightly hauntings.
I want release, relief, respite
from being tossed around on these huge waves
in the infinite ocean of consciousness,
the surface of which
has been stormy for quite some time.
I’m tired of the turbulence,
tired of this endless transition
from what was familiar
into a new life that I cannot see or fathom.
They say I’m at the helm.
They say I have the power.
They say I can change my narrative, my perception,
my life.
They tell me I’m better off without him.
This is just talk,
and I am tired of being thrown about endlessly
on enormous waves out in the middle of nowhere,
no land in sight,
on a flimsy vessel that is sinking fast.
I have nearly drowned a thousand times
in the dark waters of my psyche.
Why do I keep thrashing my way to the surface?
I want a safe harbor, a home,
a place of belonging,
a tribe who knows and loves me.
Why in the moment when I most need connection
does it seem that no one is there?
Why with all of this love around
does it not show up in the way I’m wanting?
More questions than answers,
and afraid to go to sleep
because I know what waits for me in the darkness:
more trance
more fear
more loneliness
than any human should bear.
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*Spiritual teacher Tara Brach talks about the trance of unworthiness in her book Radical Acceptance.

When Will It Stop?

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It got me again today,
creeping up slowly
and then suddenly taking hold…
the depression was back,
and there was nothing
I could do about it.
Everything made me cry—
seeing families together,
imagining myself alone
in the midst of all these people.
I even cried at Chili’s
when I took the kids there
for a birthday lunch for my daughter.
After all this time
and all of these practices, I’m still wondering
When will this pain stop?

Never Done Learning

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I think I’ve found the answer
but then I’m left with more questions,
always more.
Depending on my mind state,
this is good news or terrible.
Questions are open doors
leading to new worlds,
and I do love exploring—
but sometimes
I just want to feel safe.
Sometimes
I just want to be held
in a safe little world
I understand.
How then to make peace
with the questions
and love them
like treasure chests
as we crack them open
to reveal the jewels inside?
How to use this currency
to travel to faraway places
and expand even more?
One thing is for sure:
I’m learning every day
that I’ll never be done learning.

Last Night in Arizona (For Now)

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My girlfriends have left
and here I am in Phoenix,
in a nice room I found
on Airbnb (thank you!)
I leave tomorrow.
I miss my kids
and can’t wait to see them,
yet I feel anxious
about coming back
and seeing the man
who was my husband for eight years.
This grieving process makes no sense.
This heart feels healed and wounded
all at once.
I went to the desert for answers,
I shared my insights,
I meditated, laughed and cried.
My heart burst open.
I could see that everything will be fine.
But how to maintain that feeling
in a home that no longer feels like home?
I wonder how I can
integrate myself
back into my daily routine,
how I will look at him,
speak to him
knowing what I know now.
One day at a time I suppose…
it’s the only way this works
in the end.

Retreat Day 5: Integration

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Soon we’ll be heading back home.
How will it feel
to leave the warm Arizona desert
and return to the reality
that awaits me back home?
What do I do
when home doesn’t feel like home?
It’s cold in Maryland.
My husband and I are meeting with
the mediator next week.
I still grieve the loss of our friendship,
the loss of closeness, of trust,
of a shared future.
I want to have answers
but that’s not how this works;
I’m living my path
day by day,
moment by moment.
I want to see the whole
trajectory of my life,
but all that is ever revealed to me
is the next step forward,
just one step at a time.
So I take one step.
That’s all I can do.
My deep wish
in this moment
is that the magic I felt
while here
will be so integrated
within my Self
it will stay with me
and live in my heart
as I turn towards
what waits for resolution,
opening to what is.

Making My Case

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Heading out of town
and one week
becomes a lot to plan for.
I tell myself
This time I’ll pack lightly.
Hours later
my suitcase is as heavy
as…as…I don’t know what—
but it’s heavy.
I can’t really plan
in the end.
I can hope I have
what it takes
but ultimately
I’ll never know what I need
until the moment
presents a need.
Now,
how to go about
simplifying these needs?

Sleeping With My Mother

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For the first time in months
I’ll be sharing my bed with another…
this time with my mother,
who is visiting for the holidays.
She came a little early
to help with the kids
while I take time out
for a week long retreat,
God bless her.
It seems odd to share my bed
with my mother,
but since my husband
is no longer my husband
he occupies the space downstairs
with his brand new bed…
when will he share his bed
with another?
It has been five months
since we slept beside one another.
I miss the closeness, the warmth;
sometimes I even miss his snoring.
Does he miss me ever?
Strange, the questions that arise
as I contemplate
sleeping with my mother.