Tag Archives: trust

Alone on a Saturday Night

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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.

Breathe and Believe

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Little by little
a little becomes a lot.
Day by day,
step by step,
breath by breath,
eventually the pieces of the puzzle
come together to reveal
the coherent whole.
Life is a mystery;
we can only truly understand it
looking backwards.
Our faith, our belief in the unseen realm,
will guide us through the challenges
and the changes in fortune
that mark a human life.
If we are willing to stay the course,
breathe, and believe,
one day what we’re currently going through
will make sense.
So friend, will you breathe with me?
Will you breathe and believe?

Moved

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We’re here!
Fresh, clean kids are asleep
in their fresh, clean sheets…
And even though I’m crazy tired,
I’m kind of wired,
walking around in wonder
that this has finally happened.
Our own place.
Our own memories.
A new chapter,
untainted by the one
who almost broke me.
I lit a candle,
made a cup of tea
and am settling down cozily
to read and muse
and feel so much gratitude.
We moved! We moved! We moved!
And I am moved
by the moving, by the help received,
by the sheer quantity of stuff,
being forced to look at all of it,
make decisions—stay or go?
Intentionally setting up nooks of creativity,
creating a sewing studio in the basement—
this has been a DREAM…
And now, it’s coming true,
because I choose, I choose,
to live the dream,
to move and be moved
by this wonderful life
to trust, to love,
to jump, to open
to fly…

To Be Held

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As a teacher I can be in control;
I tell you what to do,
and I expect you to do it.
But when I’m the student,
I get antsy…I want to fiddle with things.
Tonight I was a student
in a breathwork class.
I remembered the necessity of trust
and surrender,
allowing the teacher to hold the space for me.
It felt strange at first,
because I am chronically the one who does the holding.
As I breathed
and the layers of my emotional body were peeled back
to reveal what was percolating underneath it all,
I remembered the saying
How you do anything is how you do everything.
I thought about how LIfe as my teacher
must get so frustrated with me, my fiddling.
Life just wants me to trust and surrender,
allowing the space to be held for me,
allowing myself to be held.

It Had to Happen

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I know now that it had to happen.
I’ve come to this realization before,
so bear with me, but you know how this works.
We keep circling and circling and circling back
to the same old stuff until one day we get it,
and we can finally set off on a new trajectory.
It had to happen.
I was comfortable, and comfort was making me complacent.
I knew deep down I was meant for more.
I longed to be met at my depth,
to be seen and held and loved by someone capable
of seeing my value and loving the woman that I was.
It wasn’t happening, and a part of me grieved deeply.
It wasn’t happening, and I resigned myself to a love
not quite deep enough to be congruent with my true nature.
I yearned for more, so deeply in my heart I yearned,
and a voice said that I was fooling myself,
that such a love wasn’t possible in this world.
I was determined to do the work inside myself,
to search for where I felt unmet and dissatisfied,
and discover how I could meet and satisfy myself.
Hence the meditation, the writing, the reading,
the sewing, the knitting, the kombucha making,
the therapy, the workshops, the trainings,
the research, the practice, the commitment to arete.
I secretly thought I was doing him a favor
putting up with his lack of depth, his lack of vision,
his inability to penetrate me fully to the core of my being,
to flower me open to bigger possibilities,
to take me open to God.
Well if this is it, I told myself,
then I may as well make the most of it.
So I kept going.
And then it happened.
He dumped me. ME.
Me, the mother of his children.
ME, his WIFE.
Me, his yoga teacher.
Me, his partner, his best friend.
He threw me away.
It had to happen.
It took a while, but I see this now.
At times I look jealously at intact families,
and I’m triggered by what was stolen from me.
But then my new mindset arrives and reminds me
It had to happen.
The comfort was making me complacent.
I had to be made extremely uncomfortable
to be forced out of this nest, this cocoon,
this cage of material wealth,
where my needs for food, clothing and shelter were met,
and the price I paid for it all was my authentic happiness.
I look back on who I was and I shudder.
I look forward to who I know I will be and I shiver.
I look within to the one I am now and I smile,
at peace with the fact that sooner or later,
it had to happen.



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.

I Trust You God

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I was so scared.
Then I just kept repeating
I trust you God. I trust you God. I trust you God.
I was still scared.
But I breathed and kept saying
I trust you God. I trust you God. I trust you God.
Doors closed. So many doors.
Still I kept repeating
I trust you God. I trust you God. I trust you God.
One door opened.
It’s a miracle.
We’re going to be okay.
And still I’m repeating
I trust you God. I trust you God. I trust you God.