If I can’t enjoy the little moments
tucked inside my hours,
how will I enjoy my days?
If I can’t enjoy my days,
how I will enjoy my weeks?
If I can’t enjoy my weeks,
how will I enjoy my months?
How will I enjoy my life?
Lorien of the future,
Lorien on your death bed,
I vow to you—
I will enjoy this life now.
I will enjoy my moments,
my hours and days and weeks
and months and years.
I will enjoy my decades.
I will enjoy this life.
Without any words to define you,
who would you be?
How would you describe yourself?
Without any past to regret,
without any future to long for,
who would you be right now?
If we drop the ideas about reality
and dive straight into this one moment
we can live what is here, now.
Awakening is closer than you think.
Do you know when you’ve worked so hard
And now you’re tired
And you just want to rest
And you let yourself rest?
Yes. That beautiful feeling
of letting yourself rest
I want that for you.
She keeps striking out in the darkness,
but there is no one there to fight.
The shadows dance and slip away,
and she is exhausted to her very soul,
sparring with aggressors that don’t exist.
How to be successful in battle
when the one she fights
is on the inside?
You know, he said,
You really are getting a lot of this right.
And I took this in,
and I wondered why I fixated so
on everything I thought I was doing wrong.
Could it have been the way I was spoken to
during my marriage?
Or was it the way I was spoken to
when I was a child?
I’m thinking both.
I’m thinking what I learned as a child
led me to tolerate
what happened in my marriage.
Now it’s time to heal.
Now it’s time to celebrate who I’ve become.
I’m a human, and I make mistakes,
but you know what?
As a single mom/yoga teacher/meditator/
healer/visionary/creatrix/lover of God
I really am getting a lot of this right.
I sit here tired at the end of the day
and it feels like I don’t have much to say
to inspire or uplift or heal or comfort…
I’m just grateful for the quiet,
the sound of the night symphony,
insects whirring and buzzing,
the whoosh of an occasional car passing by,
a neighbor’s music floating in from somewhere.
. . . . . . . . . . .
I ask myself if I shouldn’t write these poems earlier,
when I first wake up
and the day is bright with promise
and I’m simply glad to be alive
and I still have energy to dream of what might be.
And which Lorien is really me?
The fresh, first thing in the morning meditator
or the tired single mother,
grateful that summer is almost over?
. . . . . . . . . . .
They’re both me of course,
but somehow the morning me
seems more desirable
than this tired, nighttime me who has been
completely used up by this day.
I suppose I need to hear from both of them,
because I am a full-spectrum human being,
because we are all full-spectrum human beings,
but sometimes we forget that the darkness
is just as relevant as the light,
and the movement of morning
isn’t necessarily more valuable than the stillness of night…
is burning in your heart,
searing your mind,
waking you up at night?
Are you willing to feel the question
with every fiber of your being?
Are you willing to live with
your yearning for an answer?
Are you willing to sit with the uncertainty
for as long as it takes,
as many days, weeks, months, years
as it will take
to live your way into the answer?
This is the path of the heart-strong warrior.
Are you willing to walk this path?
I must warn you
it doesn’t get easier.
As your practice deepens
so do the questions.
At some point you’ll be holding the entire universe
inside your heart asking yourself,
What did I get myself into now?
You’ll see that you are alone in this question
with no safe place to run or hide
and no one to keep you company,
not even the wind.