A deep and pervading sense of futility,
like things will always be this way,
like I will always feel this way.
Darkness closing in,
suffocating in my loneliness,
counting the minutes
until I can be useful again
in the two roles I currently have:
mother and yoga teacher.
I can see why,
with these painful feelings,
some people become workaholics.
And, I want to get to the place
where I can celebrate the fact of being,
regardless of what I’m doing
and for whom I’m doing it.
Before he dropped the bomb
I had a regular, consistent gratitude practce.
I recorded five things every night
for which I was grateful.
I had been doing this for years,
and had already filled multiple books
with my nightly gratitudes.
After he dropped the bomb,
I expanded my practice.
When my mind was telling me my life was over
and that I’d never be happy again,
I recorded twenty things every night
for which I was grateful.
I began to count the smallest things
the way the sun rose,
the way my child’s voice sounds,
the taste of soup,
the temperature of the wind.
I realized that those “little” things
are enormous in their beauty
and their presence.
I realized I could be more grateful.
I started to realize that happiness
is a choice I make every day.
I’m into my healing process.
I can thank him for dropping the bomb
and blowing my old life to bits
so that I could create a new life.
I’m still working on forgiveness,
but that is another poem.
So what WOULD happen
if I stopped trying so hard?
I mean, would the world spin off its axis?
Would the universe become unhinged?
Would people think less of me?
The answer is definitely NO to the first two,
and MAYBE to the third,
and in the end,
what does it really matter?
How do I stop trying so hard
after years and years and years
of my nervous system believing
that I would die if I didn’t?
I take a few breaths
and sigh loudly as I exhale.
I feel my body soften and relax.
My heart opens a little more,
my belly isn’t clenched so tightly,
the knots begin to untie.
None of this makes sense,
but maybe some of you can relate?
Just when I think to myself
I’ve got this, I’m better,
I’m back down on my knees
by the side of my bed
sobbing the Serenity Prayer
to some Higher Power
I hope exists
but whose presence
I cannot quite feel
in those moments
of deep sadness and disconnection.
I turn back to my breath.
I sigh out the deep pain,
but it keeps coming,
the tears keep coming.
Is there no end to this?
as I read books about sacred intimacy
between the divine masculine and
the divine feminine,
I realize how I resent being unpartnered.
I realize how I never thought
I’d be celibate for two years
at this stage of my life.
I think about my natural urges
as a grown woman,
my need for touch, intimacy, connection,
my desire to share myself with a sensitive, loving partner.
I think about how easy it would be
to create a profile on Tinder
and just hook up with someone.
that is not who I am.
Maybe in my 20’s
casual sex seemed like an okay thing to do,
but not anymore.
In order to experience
what I truly desire:
a profoundly deep connection
and the joy of truly being seen,
heard, held and cherished
within a safe intimate relationship,
I have a lot of work to do.
First on myself
and on the tendencies
that led me into a marriage
with a man who rejected
who I was at my deepest core,
I have to start somewhere
and maybe actually go on a few dates.
UGH. UGH. UGH.
Hi, I’m Lorien.
I’m recently divorced,
I have two young children,
and I’m still healing
from the tremendous pain I experienced
when my ex-husband abandoned me.
I’m not sure I would want me
with that kind of endorsement.
So maybe I’m not ready after all.
So HEY! Just curious. Is there anyone out there who went through a godawful, brutal divorce, healed from it, and managed to go on and meet someone with whom you’re enjoying a safe and healthy relationship? Anyone with kids from a previous marriage who managed to meet someone new and engage in a better, healthier relationship than the one you had with your children’s other parent? I’m all ears. I’d love to hear what worked for you in your healing process and any insights you’d offer to someone like me, who isn’t all that excited at the prospect of dating, but who longs for a safe, intimate partnership with someone sane and healthy—and who has no idea where to begin…
So many choices every moment,
and so humbled
by how much I do not know.
Wanting to grow, learn, discover,
wanting to become more
than I ever was before,
and then reality, like a brick wall,
and now I must face it.
Although he hasn’t been there
for me in almost two years,
I hear him still,
the voice in my head,
telling me I’m never good enough.
I think he is in me still,
but it is I, in me, replaying
his internalized voice
to perpetuate the shame spiral
that is much older than our relationship.
If I want to recover
I have to choose a new voice
and a new story.
And somewhere in there,
a way to embrace possibility
without running straight into
the brick wall.
It’s going to be okay.
I feel that now.
Last year I worked on cultivating trust,
and this year, I chose freedom.
As I trust, I relax into being,
and this moment opens up
and shows me what I need to know….
Or more precisely,
I open up
and I can finally see
what this moment
was trying to show me all along.
Yes. I open up,
and then I can receive
the gifts that were always there,
awaiting my opening.
I open up
and the whole universe is delighted
to shower me with the love and the abundance
that now gets to be expressed through me,
through my willingness to trust and to be free.