Tag Archives: The Work

Busy Christmas Eve

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Early I was awake
mind buzzing.
Sleep was not an option.
So I got up, sat for an hour,
made myself breakfast,
and by 6am I was writing.
By 9:45am I was teaching yoga
to twenty-eight people,
bright souls
willing to do the work.
We laughed, breathed,
moved together.
By 11am I was in a grocery store,
last minute shopping.
By noon I was vacuuming
my kids’ carpets.
At 2 it was time
to drop them off with their dad.
Back home
I took a long, hot bath,
then I wrapped presents.
Then it was dinner,
after which my dad
and I played guitar.
I searched for a Christmasey feeling,
but sang Irish drinking songs instead.
Now it’s time for bed.

πŸŽ„πŸŽ„πŸŽ„πŸŽ„πŸŽ„πŸŽ„πŸŽ„πŸŽ„πŸŽ„πŸŽ„πŸŽ„πŸŽ„πŸŽ„πŸŽ„
This was my first Christmas Eve without my kids since they were born. I think I did a lot of grief processing beforehand, because I felt much more peaceful and calm about it than I thought I was going to feel. I anticipated drowning my sorrows in some prosecco,
but I didn’t feel called to it, I didn’t want it.

Last year at this time my husband was still living with me and it was painful to witness Christmas Eve as a newly broken family.

This year is different. I don’t feel a need to escape my feelings. I don’t feel surprised or overwhelmed by them.

And thast is a true gift.
Β 

Without My Story

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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 cried.
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.

Go Deeper

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I wonder…
if I go deeper than I’ve ever gone before,
will I get lost in the depths?
Will I hit the bottom and bounce back up?
Will I get disoriented and not know
which way is up?
Will I run out of air?
Will I drown down there?
Even scarier than the thought
of getting lost in the depths
is the thought of staying forever
stuckΒ in the shallows
wondering if I’ll ever
have the courage to go deeper.
I think I’ll just go ahead
and go deeper.

Grateful For What Is

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Who would I be without my stories?
Just a woman, fingers dancing on keys,
sitting here, breathing, at peace.
My body danced this evening
and now it is spent.
My heart sang and laughed.
My hands painted and drew
and mothered and colored today.
Without my stories
this day was utter paradise.
Please Divine Spirit,
let me stay attuned to what is real,
that I may live in this one moment
grateful for what is.

Make Me Stronger

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I never thought it would be like this.
That’s because life doesn’t stop
to check in with my little ideas
about how things should be.
It just goes on being what it is,
this life,
regardless of my thoughts.
If I want to be happy,
I need to be aware of my thinking,
and ask some questions
when my thoughts create shadows
in place of the light.
May I have the strength to see the truth
when my thoughts have blinded me.
May I have the patience to endure
the challenges life has in store for me,
and may these challenges
make me stronger.

The One to Blame

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In a difficult situation
I keep searching
for the one who is to blame.
I grapple with anger, grief,
resentment, and every little
shame, malice, and enmity
until I’ve worked myself
into a prison of self-pity.
I look around.
There is no door,
no lock, no key.
There is only a mirror.
I take a deep breath,
open my eyes wider,
look hard at the reflection
and discover the one
who caused all this is ME.

Find Solutions

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My mind invents a problem.
I become outraged,
indignant at the injustice.
And then I’m unkind
to the person I hold responsible
for this made-up problem.
Sometimes it’s someone else,
a lot of the time I’m the one
I hold responsible.
It’s exhausting.
I challenge myself
to take a step back,
really look,
and choose to find solutions
instead of inventing problems.