Connection

BREATH

The ever changing thoughts
That flow to and fro
Like the incoming tide.
Sometimes the current is strong
And I get pulled under
Stuck in thought.

Good or bad
Time ceases to exist:
My current circumstance,
The coffee beside me,
The very breath itself.
I am consumed in thought.

What I encounter 
then is a choice.
Moment to moment
I can stop the monkey mind,
the hamster wheel
and I can break free.
I can return
to the ever present
changing moment.

The breath is my anchor.
It flashes into my conscious mind
And I find a silent reverie
Befriended by my own
Groundedness and strength.
I encounter the moment
Again and again.

The thoughts change.
The steadiness of my breath changes.
The moment is ever changing.
I can choose right now
to swallow the bitter pill
of being lost
and consumed by thought.

Or I can smile
and breathe
Knowing the choice
was always mine
and I am free.
Connection

Ujjayi

The heartbeat pulses in my ear.
The glowing orb emanates
Through my ears
And into the world.
A metronome
of tick and tock.
It speeds up with exertion.
My breath helps quicken
or soften its beats.

The sound of the tide
Turns over and over
Rushing in and out
From my throat to my nose.
I can constrict the flow
To create my own internal ocean.

I am silent
to all I encounter.
Still in peaceful presence
To the beats,
To the incoming tide,
To the moon in the sky,
that waxes and wanes
Its own everchanging journey.

The tide is in tune
and always heeds the call.
Distance does not hinder
the to and fro
of the metronome dance.


Connection

Winter

The cold bitter wind
Nips at my nose and my ears.
I tighten my winter hat
Snug around my head
And walk on.

My legs stride on
Over the sidewalk
Into the street.
A biting chill enters my lungs.
I must walk on.

I marvel at my speed
And surprise myself at the
quickened pace;
Wanting to lighten the load
of thick gloves and
Puffy winter coat.
To feel warm again
To breathe steady and rhythmic.

I throw open the door.
Once I step inside
The heat engulfs me
And I sigh in relief
Unzipping and shedding
Layer upon layer
Forgetting that I’ll have to
Step out into the world
Once again
After the cold has become
A distant memory.

abundance

The Cycle of Lack

The Cycle of Lack
was a huge discovery
and life lesson for me.
It was the end of 2017
And it was the start of
My growth and 
Feeling mastery in my maturity.

I was no longer to blame
or at fault for my sense of lack.

Is it outside voices, ideals, projected lives
Or circumstance that
Makes me feel unfulfilled?
Always grasping for more
Feeling left out, left behind
Feeling like I'm missing out
And everyone else has their shit together?

The grass is always greener over there
And I’m stuck over here.
It can feel hopeless.
I may feel helpless and stuck.
It’s hard to find motivation
Let alone the momentum
Required to create
Positive change.

When I take a breath,
I can step outside of the
Hamster wheel of
Hurry and challenge
And create space,
A pause to examine
The reverie of lack
And ask: 
What would be enough?

What am I craving
In this moment?
Is it love, companionship or
Connection?
Am I lonely?

Do I crave alone time
Or solitude?
Do I feel like I’m being pulled
In a million directions?

Can I be kind to myself
And notice one good thing
That is going right?

I created the cycle of lack in 2017,
But it took four years to
Find my way out of the center
and learn that
The magic of reframing lack
to one of appreciation
Can break the cycle.

Will those thoughts creep up again?
Of course.
Life is full of its ups and downs.
It may feel like there’s shortages
In supply and energy.
I know I can rest.
And I can feel gratitude 
In what is enough
Just right now
Is all I need to break the cycle.
Connection

Five ways of looking at the breath

1.
Deep, slow rhythmic pace
It grounds me.
It takes me out of my thinking mind
and I embody the present moment
and smile.

2.	 
A sense of control
I can hold my breath.
I can lengthen my exhales
more than my inhales.
I can whistle.
I can sigh.
I can sing
and even make myself yawn.

3.	 
Tight and constrictive
In those moments of anxiety or hurt,
my breath is shallow and tight
like a sharp pain in my chest.
When I try to take a deep breath,
I feel my chest constrict and tighten
like a sob about to break free.

4.	 
Connection
All living beings on this planet breathe
be it with lungs or gills.
We all enter this world and
take our first breath.
We laugh and cry together.
We can chant OM.
We can sing a melodic tune.

5.	 
Conduit to peace
When I remember that
I can control my breath,
I create the optimal route to peace
with just one breath.
I could argue with my words
or ruminate an imagined reply in my mind.
Or I can breathe and let it be.




self-care

Why are we here?

Why are we here at this moment in time on this small blue green planet?

They say we too are made up of the stars down to the smallest molecule. It can feel so small when the universe is so vast. How can I affect change as such?

What I know is my life has meaning. The answer is always connection. The root is love. So how did I live the answer? I must have lived the question first.

What I didn’t know is I was being led by invisible forces, situations, people and opportunities which became my challenges, my lessons, my guides.

How to live a life well lived and loved is the question. It took me 40+ years to come to the realization and to accept even if the universe is so vast and my actions seem so small and individual, there is a ripple.

If I too am made up of the stars, I have a light inside. A unique heart like an emerald when the light hits it a certain way. I do not know who put it there or where does the light originate from. I can accept that it’s a part of me and we each have our own illuminated hearts beating in our chest. Not so narrow and individually separate. Our hearts can be in rhythm like the collective breath that illuminates the soul.

parenting · self-care

First day back

My 8 year old daughter (V) is distance learning. We spent the weekend clearing off her desk, removing the paper clutter; out with the old to make space for the new. My 4 year old daughter (L) has been away from daycare and home since March. Some days she has separation anxiety when one of us leaves. Today was a big day for her. She would be away from both parents for a good chunk of the day, around seven plus hours.


She protested. She didn’t want to get dressed and had become accustomed to pajama wearing most days. Comfort and play was key. She balked at the shirt Mommy chose and picked her LOVE emoji shirt instead. She wanted to play and this new routine was keeping her away from her toys and imaginative play. V got dressed and was watching a YouTube video on her iPad.

My husband announced, “We have to take a first day of school picture!” Begrudgingly, the girls posed in front of the bush. L held her pink bunny and a few toys from home to take for the car ride. Adorable smiles and a pose of the leg. Click!


We packed the car and headed out. L asked me to play music on the radio. With only commercials or annoying pop music to choose from, I pressed play on the cued up CD and held my breath. I didn’t know what I was going to hear. Fingers crossed. It was Depeche Mode. There was silence from the backseat. No protest. We drove out onto the street.


The first day. It was the first day of seeing a handful of school buses on the road. I said, “Look, a bus! It’s everyone’s first day too.” We pulled into the familiar lot of her former daycare. The one that was closed for so long. I heard her take a deep purposeful breath. Then another. She was calming herself. I thought, she is listening. She sees and hears everything. She’s been seeing and listening to me practice yoga and meditation, and demonstrating calming breaths and she internalized that. It became a useful tool in her toolbox to calm her anxiety. That is a win in my book and I don’t want to discount it. I was a proud mama.


We got out of the car. The daycare’s slide was wrapped in caution yellow tape. No trapezes swung on the bare playset. All the grownups were wearing a mask. We had to take a different entrance. No parents are allowed inside the building. L’s prekindergarten class will help form the foundation for her to be ready for a successful kindergarten next year. She held onto her pink bunny, now sealed in the school-required Ziplock bag. We held each other as she cried and didn’t want to let me go. I let out a tear too. The teacher said “Good morning!” And handed L a welcome goodie bag. She gave us a few moments to say goodbye and then led L into class. Luckily, I parked in front of her classroom window so we could wave and blow kisses.


It sure is a different time to be living in. Today I’m back to work. It’s the first Monday in a long time. My husband is at home managing his telework and setting up V for her day of google meets and independent work. We will make it through. We’ll run into each other’s arms at the end of the day, check in and share the events that unfolded. We got this. It’s only the beginning of a new chapter. A return to somewhat normalcy and we will always have each other.