Feeling a little lost, out of sorts these days.
I couldn’t be bothered to write
the last few nights…
what has happened to me?
I return a bit sheepishly,
feeling guilty for dropping my routine;
it’s been the one thing that has held me up
through the transition into single motherhood.
I remember the wisdom of my teachers.
Begin where you are.
Only this moment matters.
You’re doing fine.
You are enough, just as you are, right now.
My mind loves to point out
that although I can articulate my teachers’ wisdom,
I’m not necessarily so great at embodying it.
Oh well. That’s why we practice.
We remember that we can keep trying,
again and again and again.
For a long time
it felt like something was missing.
I had been a Mrs. for so long,
and now he was gone.
There was an empty place in my bed,
a hole in my heart,
an vacant seat at the table,
a void of presence in my life.
But slowly, slowly,
as time went on,
I faced the one inside me
who believed I couldn’t make it on my own.
I worked hard.
Day after day, I recommitted to my healing.
I began to enjoy the company I kept
in the quiet moments of solitude
when I wasn’t working or mothering.
It’s Saturday night and I’m alone.
The highlight of my evening was a long soak in the tub.
I love this moment.
I love that nothing is missing.
I love that I can feel my wholeness now.
I love that I stayed alive for my healing.*
*If you’re reading this with a broken heart, having gone through a loss of a relationship or the loss of a loved one or the loss of something by which you formed your identity, please hang in there. It gets better. There were so many moments during my separation and divorce that the pain was so intense that I really thought I wanted to die. Thankfully I had Twelve Step Meetings, therapy and a few really good friends who helped me stay on this planet. On the other side of that terrible trial, I can look back and see what a gift it was. I am stronger now, and more capable of loving authentically. I have a clearer sense of who I am, and a much better idea of where I want to go and what I need to do to get there. There is hope, friend…hang in there.
Turning adversity into opportunity…
being willing to see value in difficulty,
not complaining, but doing what needs to be done.
Rewiring my brain is difficult.
My brain wants to complain.
It wants me to feel sorry for myself,
to feel like a victim,
to focus on the abandonment, the betrayal,
the grief and the loss.
It wants me to feel envious of intact families,
and look at women with their men
and ask, Why not me?
I’m tired of being tortured by my mind.
I don’t want it to remind me of everything that went wrong.
I want to focus on what’s going right.
But after four decades of negative programming,
I don’t know if I’m capable of seeing the positive.
Haven’t I suffered enough,
Or do you want to break me even more?
I feel like I’m already mostly dead.
Do you want me to die all the way?
I am a ghost in a body struggling to live
and it feels like a burden to eat.
And yet I must feed this body,
because there are two children
relying on me to be here for them…
and they deserve a living, breathing mother
who can help smooth their way through
this rocky journey of life.
Is enduring this pain the sacrifice I must make?
Is this torture of terror, uncertainty and homelessness
the very thing that’s making me strong
and ready to change?
But how can I change
when I lack the energy
to meet my most basic of needs?
When it feels like a burden to be alive,
how do I choose to keep living?