Tag Archives: The Work

A Prayer for Awakening

Standard

May I drop the tendency to believe
that there is something wrong with this moment,
and may I embrace reality as it is right now.
Without judgment, criticism, or blame,
may I see what needs to be done
and do it, without attachment to results.
May I wake up to the love that I am,
and you are, and this world is.
May my awakening awaken others.
May I see the value in my life
and live it fearlessly,
in awareness of my true self,
for the benefit of all beings.

Gratitude and Joy

Standard

Ahh, settling into this moment,
and it feels wonderful, actually.
I had this realization
that my mind was stealing my joy.
I was giving my attention
to painful thoughtsβ€”
and believing them.
But then, I chose to think differently.
I chose to focus on
what is working in my life,
how fortunate I am
to have my health,
my home,
my children,
my work…
And suddenly I realized
how rich I am,
how blessed,
how truly sacred
this moment is.
So now,
in the absence
of those painful thoughts,
all that is left is
gratitude and joy.
Ahhhhh, thank you life.

Inside Myself

Standard

It could be said by many
that your past year
was so much better than mine,
what with all the
lovemaking,
wining and dining,
the rock concerts,
the dinners with friends,
and yes
even a “romantic” trip to Paris.*
Yes, if you’re only concerned
with external matters
maybe your year was better…
But if you look a little deeper,
you would find
I made out far better than you.
This past year,
I learned about my Self.
I learned where my true power lies.
(Hint: Not with you!)
I learned about my responsibility,
my resiliency, my strength.
I went all the way down,
found the bottom,
and have chosen to come back up.
I touched my deepest sorrow,
reached out and held myself
through paralyzing grief,
searched for and found
a reason to keep going.
Long after your suitcases are unpacked,
the bottles of wine are empty,
the rockstars have left the stage,
and the weight of real life
(and maybe even
the weight of your next wife?)
has killed your libido,
I’ll be here, standing strong
in the beautiful world I’ve built…
inside myself.





*As romantic as Paris can be, in rainy cold January. Good luck with that.


*************
Friends, some of you may have noticed in the past couple of months that I have periodically addressed Him…the one who shall not be named…the one who married me, had two children with me and then left the marriage, saying it was all my fault. If you’re wondering at all about my writing to him, permit me to explain. Once I realized that he was trolling my posts I decided to address him directly here on this blog…and I discovered as I did so that writing to him as if he were reading my words is quite cathartic. There were many words left unspoken between us, and while I’m still processing the major transition in my life that he initiated, I figured that anything that provides catharsis is a good idea! At some point this will all be a distant memory and I will no longer feel a need to speak to him, but for now, when the desire strikes as it did tonight, I’ll give him a piece of my mind. Who knows? Perhaps he’ll read my posts and learn something? We can only hope…

A Lot of Responsibility

Standard

I was at home,
by myself,
and it struck me…
If I’m feeling bad
and there is no one around,
I’m the one making myself feel bad.
If I’m feeling good
and there is no one around
I’m the one making myself feel good.
My thoughts are determining how I feel,
and this is true,
but only 100% of the time.
If this is true
when I am alone,
then it is true
when I am with others.
I can blame others
for making me feel a certain way,
but in the end,
I choose how I feel inside myself
based on how I respond
to the external circumstances of my life.

Ahh, now.
That sure is a lot of responsibility…
No wonder so few people take it.

Busy Christmas Eve

Standard

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 that is a true gift.
Β 

Without My Story

Standard

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

Standard

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.