What would happen
if I suddenly recognized
that I am exactly where
I am supposed to be
doing exactly what
I am supposed to be doing?
What if I stopped struggling,
took a deep breath, and relaxed?
I might remember who I really am:
Pure consciousness aware of itself.
Upon this remembering,
bliss floods my being;
I am home.
I have spent so long in the dark,
struggling, afraid.
It is time to remember.
Time to come home.
When you woke up this morning,
did you remember who you really are?
Have you remembered yet today?
If not, let me remind you,
but first,
S L O W L Y
EXHALE ALL THE WAY,
and then,
S L O W L Y
INHALE ALL THE WAY.
There now, that’s better, isn’t it?
✨❤️✨
You are pure consciousness in a physical body
standing on a tiny blue dot
in the middle of infinite space.
You are a single cell on that blue dot,
a subatomic particle of the atom in which you live,
and yet your consciousness
is bigger than the universe.
Can you open in awareness of this vastness?
Can you feel out to the farthest reaches of space,
can you sense into the urge to expand forever?
Can you take on the awareness of a star,
burning in your desire to express your light?
Can you spin the way a planet spins,
can you feel its mass,
and can you sense the momentum it has attained
in its embrace of the cosmic dance?
And YOU, how about your embrace?
You are the center of the universe, did you know that?
You are, in this very second,
entirely surrounded, held, seen, known, loved and cherished
by the force that created you
(and you can call it what you want!)
You are sovereign in your center,
holding the consciousness of the cosmos.
Now that you’ve remembered
that the entire universe is yours to command,
what now will you do?
Frequently it happens
that I am struck by a memory
of the times we were together,
a family of four,
and although we had our challenges
(like everyone else)
all was well with the world.
Two beautiful children,
jobs we liked and were good at,
a home, a life together.
And then one day it all changed.
You were done.
You blamed me.
You betrayed me.
I have spent nearly two years
trying to get back on my feet,
and I’m almost there.
I’m certainly stronger now
than I was at this time last year…
But what do I do with the memories of before?
Sometimes they are enough to bring me to my knees.
I can see our children happy, smiling,
I can hear my voice. I can see your face.
I can hear you telling me you loved me.
And then one day…
you didn’t love me anymore.
One day you told me
that your pain was my fault.
You told me what you were doing was brave,
that it took courage to leave.
I disagree.
I think the real courage would’ve been found
in your willingness to see your part in all of this,
and in your ability to ask yourself
why you were hurting so deeply
that you would betray the woman you married
and wound her the way that you did.
Today it is cold, gray and raining outside,
perfectly matching the state of my heart.
I miss my children.
I miss our life together.
And I know I would be fine,
if it weren’t for all the memories.
In the dark of the year
my soul goes into hiding
and I want to sleep
until the light returns.
And yet I must keep going.
There are children to feed
and students to teach
and this body to bathe and clothe
and lungs that need to breathe.
My mind seeks comfort,
the safety of one who understands.
There is no one here besides me,
and the loneliness engulfs
like the encroaching darkness.
And then, faith.
And then, hope.
And then, the memory
that I’ve made it through this before.
Today’s prompt asks us to write a poem that engages all five senses. Hmmm. Alrighty then.
*******************
I reach out for you in the middle of the night still.
You were there for years, but now you are not.
The sound of your snoring,
even your breath in the morning,
how much more would I have savored those
if I knew what was coming?
I remember your hairy belly.
Isn’t it silly,
these things that stay in my mind?
I remember running my hand
on your tummy, loving the feel of you,
your warmth; I suppose it’s unkind
to do this to myself, to remember like this.
But do I have a choice?
I can feel the sadness now in the back of my throat,
the tears that want to come.
I can taste those uncried tears,
their bitterness, my fragility.
Now you are with her,
and I include you both in my forgiveness practice.
So many have told me to let go,
to focus on me,
to be my own best friend.
But what to do when nothing feelings like home anymore,
when I am a stranger to myself,
when the most familiar things are the memories
growing fainter with each tear that falls?
I discover that
when I breathe more
I enjoy life more.
I relax,
my body feels good,
I have energy.
I’ve been working on
establishing a deep, slow,
steady breath
for years now and
I know that it feels good
when I breathe consciously.
So the work becomes
remembering to breathe
during the day.
Thank you, oh mind,
for giving me the gift
of conscious breathing
in this moment.
Thank you for waking up from the trance
long enough to remember
to breathe just this once.
In the early morning
just before dawn
I had a lucid dream.
My body still asleep,
my mind became alert
that the reality I was experiencing
was, in fact, a dream.
I was facing a dark parking lot
standing on a narrow path
with the woods behind me,
and it struck me how creepy it was
to be there, just standing there
in the dark night alone.
And then I dropped something
(was it my keys??)
and I began searching in the plants
beside the path for whatever it was
I thought I had lost.
Suddenly, I realized,
I’m dreaming! There is no reason
for me to be here in a dark parking lot
at night by myself.
And then came the feeling of excitement
and the exhilaration that rises up
whenever I realize I’m awake
within my dream,
because now I’m capable of anything,
I can go anywhere,
I can have anything,
I can see everything,
the only limit is my imagination.
At such times
I usually choose to fly
just to verify
that I am in fact dreaming.
So I felt my body rising up
toward the sky.
And I had this felt sense
that I had tried so many times
to be in control of this sort of experience,
wanting to master the art of flying,
to be strong and capable,
taking myself wherever I wanted,
but now…
Now I wanted to surrender.
I wanted to surrender to God.
And so I let myself be buoyed up,
up, up, up,
until I was high in the sky
close to the stars,
and it was this feeling of being held
softly, gently,
of floating in this vast ocean of stars
and it felt so good and so right
to just let myself be held.
I awoke then,
but the feeling has stayed with me,
and this image of being held
by a gentle, unseen, immense force—
floating in an ocean of stars.
