When we let go of the idea
that there is something wrong with us,
the stories of fear, deficiency, and loss
can be undone.
We don’t have to do anything
for healing to happen;
as we let go
and surrender our bodies to the Earth,
the healing takes us
and we are lifted in its embrace.
The moments of great letting go
flow into moments of great grace,
and a remembering takes place.
A friend gently reminded me
that my thoughts were creating
and my words were amplifying
And I saw
I wasn’t telling a happy story.
I felt justified
in telling my victim story,
I was just plain miserable.
So I decided to rewrite my story.
What will be possible
inside the telling of my dream
for joy, health, safety, and peace
for all beings?
What gardens will grow
and winds will blow
and friends will show
up smiling at my door
happy for friendship
honored to love
and ready for more?
The day has unfolded in simplicity.
I got the children up
we had breakfast
they got on the bus
I remembered their lunches
and brought them to school.
Back home I tidied my house
I listened to music
I remembered being married to my husband,
being close to him;
I thought about where he is now
and with whom;
I finally got around
to downloading months and months
of my financial info
for the attorneys to pore over;
I sent out multiple emails,
pictures of my bills.
I had avoided doing this
because my financial straits
have been a source of
great shame and embarrassment.
But the day unfolded in simplicity.
It needed to be done
and without my stories bogging me down
I was finally able to do it.
My kids got back home early
from their half day of school.
They had popsicles in the sunshine;
my son climbed a tree.
I sat and looked at the flowers I planted
in the last week,
admired the beauty and the utter creativity
of Mother Nature.
I felt tired so I lay down.
My children followed me upstairs
to my room
and proceeded to wrestle
one another on the floor
right by my bed.
I got up, made myself a protein shake,
cleaned off the table outside,
sat down in the breeze,
sipped my shake…
and now I’m writing this poem.
It’s a simple day,
a simple life,
a beautiful life
without my story.
After being blessed in my heart
with the miracle of forgiveness
and seeing with new eyes
for a few glorious, light-filled days,
the weight of real life
came crashing down upon me
and with it the story I had told so well.
It was the story of being wronged,
the story of betrayal, victimization
I have rehearsed it frontwards,
I know it word by word
and line by line;
hell, I could give a doctoral dissertation on it,
defend it before a group of intellectuals,
and I’m sure they’d award me with a degree in it—
Lorien Nemec, Ph.D.—
yes, I’m THAT good at my story.
As the familiar feelings of depression,
heaviness, sadness and powerlessness returned
I wondered why I couldn’t sustain
the good feelings for longer.
And then it occurred to me
(again, because I knew this already)
I’m always at choice.
If I want to change
I need to keep making the new choice
until it becomes a habit…
Otherwise the old choices
will always take over.
It’s time to wield this power of choice
and keep telling the new story
until I’m as good at telling it
and living it
as I’ve been with telling
and living the old.
Forgiveness leads to peace.
You can give yourself the gift of peace.
Search in your mind
for those against whom
you hold grievances.
Do I want to carry this burden any longer?
Really listen to the answers that emerge
from the depths of your truest self.
Your truest self is peace.
Grievances hide this self from you.
set this self free from the prison you made.
There is so much beauty in the world
beyond your story.
I keep searching and searching for meaning.
I want to understand.
I think I’ve found something,
and the understanding melts away
to reveal still more questions
a deeper search, an endless journey.
Could I embrace the process of becoming?
Could I stop asking myself to arrive
and instead be content with each small step?
In the infinite realm of possibility
that is this Universe,
there is no end point,
just a constant cycling and recycling
of energy and experiences.
Even death is just another beginning.
So can I let go of the story
that I need some neat, tidy resolution
to the life I’ve lived thus far,
and simply love and embrace
the life I’m living right now?
The wind howled and howled all day.
This evening in yoga class
I challenged my students
to identify the story they told themselves
that was holding them back.
I also challenged them to discover
the practice that would facilitate
their living into the biggest version of themselves.
The wind kept howling just outside the studio window.
It was a mournful sound, a sound of
deep, inconsolable sadness.
I heard the voices of those who had gone on,
the voices of those who regretted deeply
not living the lives
they were born to live.
Now only the wind speaks for them.
And then there comes a time
when the hurt and the pain
are too much to bear
and the burden is just so great
that something must change.
And that something is my perception.
When I change the way I look out on the world,
my inner world changes.
I see how my thoughts give rise to reality
and how my anger isn’t helping me.
I see that attempting to shame him
for my discomfort
is only doing to him
what I thought he was doing to me—
using me to tell a victim story.
I am not a victim.
I am the fortunate recipient of the life spark,
and I will carry it for as long as I am meant to.
I think I’ve said this before
But it’s time to forgive.
It really is.