When I’ve been pushing and pushing and pushing,
bouncing around like a ping-pong ball,
At some point my body says
I’ve reached that point.
My body is saying
Stop. Slow Down. Pause. Rest.
And yet I keep going.
It’s catching up with me.
I feel exhausted.
I want to rest,
but the children need to eat breakfast
and get on the school bus.
I drag myself out of bed;
God be with me. Have mercy. God be with me.
The doomsday prophet in my head says
It will always be like this.
The child in my head says
This isn’t fair.
My body keeps repeating
Stop. Stop. Stop.
It’s getting louder.
And I’m wondering when I’ll get the hang
of single parenting, really.
Some other voice says
Just one day at a time, darling,
just one step at a time.
I think I’ll listen to that voice.
If I suddenly dis-identified myself with my pain,
how would I show up in the moment?
If I no longer believed the stories told to me
or the labels I’ve been branded with,
who would I be, right now?
If I could no longer see myself
as the victim of my past circumstances,
how would I relate to this present experience?
I keep praying. I keep saying aloud,
I’m ready to let go of the past.
I’m ready to feel beyond my pain.
I ready to know who I really am.
And yet the old story persists.
What do I need to do to be free?
Taking time to slow down and rest,
to be quiet and still and listen,
to let my awareness settle,
and feel my whole body alive in this moment.
On retreat I deeply feel and know
how important it is to slow down and take time
to just be.
Day to day living is hectic, chaotic;
disengaging from this frenetic pace
I can see how I’ve been pushing, pushing,
trying to get things done,
but never taking time to just be.
I can feel my body is exhausted;
I’ve been asking so much of it.
This whole weekend has been
one long exhale, finding presence,
remembering that there is nowhere else
but this moment, and I’m home.
Back and forth
and back and forth
between the two worlds.
And slowly what was before
is transferred over to what is now.
If I keep taking this stuff with me
wherever I go,
I’ll keep having the same experiences
over and over and over.
I’m ready for something different,
but I need to learn to let go.
I can hear the shaming voice,
the one who blames me,
who tells me I never get anything right.
And then I need to just sit and breathe
I can’t get this wrong.
No matter what happens,
life will hold me.
Can I surrender into this infinite embrace,
and just allow what is to be?
Insert something inspiring here:
And then something motivational:
Something that’s going to get you really excited about your life:
Something that makes your heart dance:
Sit quietly with these questions.
Go deep and go strong.
Fill in the blanks with answers that ring true.
Then stand at the mirror and look into your own eyes,
and give yourself permission to believe
that your answers are valuable.
Because they are.
Never forget this.
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.
Just one step forward,
just one little action.
Write the goal down;
you don’t have to know how.
Just breathe. This doesn’t have to hurt.
Yes, it may take some hard work,
and yes, there might be some setbacks,
but this is life.
Infuse love into everything you do;
and some day (hopefully) far in the future
when it’s time for you to leave this body behind,
you’ll know this world is better
for your having passed by this way.
Perfection is a myth.
Just make a little progress, bit by bit
and it will be a life well-lived.