Tag Archives: self-expression

What Will You Do?

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Alright, so let’s say you’ve broken free
of all of the constraints of your past,
everyone’s ideas of who you should be,
the accumulation of the world’s tension
around being “right” and “wrong,”
and any residual hesitation seeping out
from your genetic or cultural
or religious or societal inheritance.
Let’s say that you’ve arrived in this moment
aware of your complete, total, and utter freedom,
to be, do, think and have anything your heart desires.
Knowing that you are completely free
and no one can hold you back,
now what will you do?

No Time

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We’re born,
we die,
in the blink of an eye.
Might as well enjoy our time here.
Might as well train in
creating and expressing joy
so that this world is a brighter place
for our having passed through here.
Are you willing to take responsibility
for your own experience?
How could you feel empowered otherwise?
Are you willing to wake up
to what is truly yours
and leave me to handle what is truly mine?
If just a few of us did this
we could create heaven on earth in no time…

Momentum

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I was exploring creative expression
and a lack thereof
with my EMDR therapist on Monday.
And it came to me suddenly…
If I could simply start doodling,
just to get the creative ball rolling,
eventually the momentum would pick up
and I could flow along with it.

Right after the session,
I went down to my car
and took out of my purse
a fine point Sharpie and a blank index card
and I wrote the word
M O M E N T U M
and some wavy lines all around it.
That evening,
I got my watercolors out
and worked on two paintings.
The next night and the night after that
my kids and I drew together.
Same for the next morning.
That afternoon I worked on a mandala,
gel pens on black paper,
and it felt good to create,
and I realized, yes,
momentum is real.
If you are feeling creatively blocked friend,
just begin something.
Just get that ball rolling and you’ll see…
MOMENTUM is your friend.

Fat With Gratitude

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The impediment to action advances action. What stands in the way becomes the way.

—Marcus Aurelius, 121-180 c.e.

I sit down to write and feel blocked
because my open and honest expression
might be twisted and used as evidence
by the one I formerly trusted with my heart
that there is something wrong with me.
(That something wrong being that I’m a human
going through a particularly tough time.)
And so I embrace a sort of forced positivity,
which cannot be all bad, right?
I mean, for God’s sake,
I have clean drinking water, on demand,
water to bathe with, a toilet inside my house…
This puts me in the top 20% of the world’s population.
I have voting rights.
I have my health.
I have my mind.
I have a college education.
I have work that I love
and two beautiful children
and an opportunity to start over fresh
every single blessed day.
In essence, I’m being blocked from complaining,
and this impediment to complaints
advances my ability to celebrate what is working.
This open and honest expression
might also be twisted and used as evidence
that there is someting wrong with me,
but if this is the case,
then it only reveals what is wrong
with the reasoning faculties
of the person doing the twisting and judging.
Therefore, thank you, dear soul,
for giving me cause to pause
and go on a negativity diet.
I shall grow fat with gratitude and grace.

One Day

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Morning.
Meditation,
some blessed quiet time,
a candlelit bath,
soft music playing,
then resting and reading.

Afternoon.
A walk in the woods,
finding a perfect spot,
setting up the hammock,
resting, reading, musing.
Staring up at the trees,
breathing deeply, swaying,
writing out my heart’s desires.

Evening.
A nourishing meal
and more writing.
Dancing,
moving every part of my body,
a shared experience in Nia class.

Night.
Back home, a shower,
and here I am, tired and calm.
It was a good day,
a full day, a day of self-care.
It occurs to me that many
such fulfilling days
will lead to a fulfilling life.

The Light the World Needs

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I keep writing these poems
because it has become a habit
to write one poem every day.
It has become part of my practice
to concentrate my thoughts,
to choose a few words,
to express a sliver of what is alive in me.
Sometimes a sliver is all that is needed
to let in the light the world needs.

Saboteur or Muse?

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Just create.
Just do it.
Make something.
It doesn’t have to be perfect.
It doesn’t even have to be any good.
It’s the act of creating that matters,
unleashing forces that have lain dormant,
awakening to your self, your voice…
You don’t even need to show your creations
to anyone else,
just let your Self be seen by yourself.
Getting lost in some creative endeavor
is an act of prayer and a blessing.
Tuning into what you have within you
waiting to be expressed
and having the courage to express it–
this is an act of salvation.
And as you save yourself,
as you honor yourself
you inspire others to do the same.
As we join together in our
individual acts of creation,
of self-expression,
of self-honoring,
self-salvation,
we strengthen the web of life.
As we allow ourselves to be vulnerable
our true courage shines forth.
Create, or let your destructive thoughts win.
The creator and the destroyer
both live and breathe inside you.
Which do you choose–
saboteur or muse?

Create Something

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Create something.
Anything.
Do it now.
Draw a picture,
sing a song,
do a little dance,
tell a story.
Plant a flower,
sew something,
paint something,
knit something,
carve something,
cook something.
This life isn’t just about toil and strain–
it is also about connection
and play
celebration
and joy
relaxation
and simple moments of clarity
and authenticity.
There is an essence in you
that is unique to you,
and we want to see it.
Please.
Create something.
Do it now.

Today I Danced

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Today I danced.
It was an ordinary moment
just after lunch.
My son was (thankfully) napping,
my daughter was drawing,
my husband was watering the grass seedlings
and all was quiet.

Yes, just an ordinary moment,
except suddenly it was extraordinary.

Maybe it was the
the brightness of the spring afternoon sun,
the way the flowers were blooming vibrantly,
the way my daughter’s light step
reminded me of one of the fairy folk
who has flitted through my dreams–
and suddenly I needed to dance.

Outside on the patio
next to pots of blooming pansy,
alyssum, begonia, and impatiens
I put on my favorite Scottish band,
the Tannahill Weavers,
music bursting out
from a little Bluetooth speaker
perched on our high brick wall.

The pipes, the guitars, the drums, the vocals
stirred my heart
and then my body
and suddenly I was leaping and swirling
and spinning and whirling
and remembering why I love dancing.
My daughter looked up at me
with such love in her eyes
and told me as I danced
You are my sunflower.
This means I love you.

I kept dancing,
and I felt free.
It is so glorious to be alive.