The Road Taken

Carriage Road - Acadia National Park

The Road Taken

After he died
I tried to keep going,
but eventually I simply could not.
The road I was traveling
became impassable,
and I turned to head a different way.
This has not been easy,
requiring courage and determination
that I now see are strengths for me.
I remember walking and wondering,
looking toward the distant mountains,
realizing that I needed to explore within.
I didn’t know how much work this would be,
what it really even meant,
or where it would take me.
But, from a place deep down inside
 my hurting self,
there emerged a wisdom
that I knew to follow.
I chose a different road.
Now, all these years later,
I’m so glad I did.
The road taken
has been one of sorrow and joy,
confusion and understanding,
fear and love,
pain and release.
It continues to take me to places
that provide what I need
to heal and find peace
at the time when I am ready.
I reap rewards,
feel freedom,
access the abundance
 of me.
I look forward
to where else the road taken
might lead.

Sarah Carlson

October 26, 2017

Deadwood

Witch Hole Pond Loop - Carriage Roads of Acadia National Park

Deadwood

In recognizing that what was
really, truly is
done,
there’s a toppling of things
that can be hard to name.
At times
this provides a further clarification
of what ‘it’ actually was,
though that’s not essential.
There can be some rumbling

with the tumbling,
but there’s always
a sweet sense of relief
when things do fall away.
What can appear as a chaotic jumble,
actually has a grace all its own.
It consists
of true experiences
 that were part of living life,
and did help form
some of the taproot
that anchors.
Stepping back,
one can observe the interplay
of deadwood, new growth,
and maturity,
with an understanding that,
though each and every piece
played a part in what is now,
 the deadwood
no longer
has a grip.

Sarah Carlson

October 24, 2017

Antithesis

Photo by Emma Mabel Carlson

I've worked all weekend putting the finishing touches on the manuscript for my book. This piece came today - not sure if it's a way to quell the gentle unease that has been keeping me company or if it is a good final poem for the book. Perhaps it's both. We shall see.

 

Antithesis

Limiting beliefs are a part of being human.
Life contains challenges so
these beliefs are forged by diverse experiences,
come from varied sources,
appear to be true.
They are real,
at least until one is drawn
to take a closer look.
Part of the rewards of choosing to heal
is the dispelling of those limiting beliefs
by learning to examine them
with an eye toward illuminating
what is actually true.
There are times when there’s a
slow, careful unfolding
of a shift that happens in stages
so one can adapt along the way.
Every once in a while there’s
an unexpected beacon
in the haze that
gently guides you to a new direction.
And, like a sunbeam that bursts
through storm clouds as they pass on by,
some changes can be dramatic and sudden,
take your breath away for a time.
One of my very powerful limiting beliefs
was that I had to be silent and stoic
in the face of difficult emotions,
must figure things out on my own.
A brilliant part of the radiance
 of change is that
 the making of this book
is the antithesis of
that once mighty,
now obsolete,
belief.

Sarah Carlson

October 15, 2017

It's Done

A Mother's Day Geranium that keeps on giving

It’s Done

It’s done, sweet Sarah.
All over, finished –
and we survived.
Actually, we did much more than that.
Despite the weight of the
layers of pain and fear,
we learned and loved,
wondered and wandered,
giggled and grew.
We thrived.
It’s time to embrace the fact
that you are not wrong, have never been.
Those scary experiences were real.
They did happen,
but not because of anything you did.
Nothing from those bygone days
can get you now.
What is true is that you are good,
I am good,
and together we can let
that part of our lives be over.
It’s done,
but we most definitely are not.
I am so excited to see what will come
as, together, we continue
to relax and let that big, bold energy
show its beautiful blossoms
as they stretch out into the light of day.
I will tenderly nurture all they contain
and let them show their true colors.
The sacred connection between
adult and child is right here within.
The sacred connection with whatever
you feel comfortable calling the Divine
is right where it has always been -
available, steady, real.
It’s safe, it’s right, it’s time
to trust in both
because it’s done.

Sarah Carlson

October 12, 2017

Mindfully Lonely

Cundy's Harbor, Maine

At a mindfulness workshop for health care providers and educators that I went to recently there was a question and answer time at the very end. The last question was one about how mindfulness might help with loneliness. Such an intriguing question. One of the presenters wondered if the person asking the question was referring to the deeper problem of depression. As I listened I was struck by my own feelings surrounding the topic of loneliness - that it definitely should not automatically be associated with depression or sadness and that, as one becomes more mindful, perhaps the sense of loneliness might actually be more acute - at least for a time. This all happened just after I had needed a break from the bigness of the day, had chosen to spend some time alone and had written the bulk of Inner Symphony during that hiatus.
So this is what came from that experience and further musings about the topic.

Mindfully Lonely

As I become more able to
sit with my authentic emotions
I recognize the presence, the validity
of loneliness in my life.
I’ve been able to separate it from
a sense of abandonment, so
it isn’t terribly depressing
and doesn’t stop me from staying
active and engaged.
It doesn’t prevent me from feeling
grateful for my life experiences,
including love shared.
But it is real and true that I sometimes
crave companionship,
a like-minded person with whom
to process, share, or adventure.
It’s not that I’m alone all the time,
and in fact I often choose to be.
It’s just that every so often I want
a spontaneous connection in the
here and now.
People will say,
“You know, you’re never really alone.”
Although I understand that message
and I do believe,
it doesn’t always help in moments
of genuine loneliness.
So I’ve decided to honor
the feelings that surface,
enabling my relationship
with loneliness to further change.
I’m not going to push it away,
think that there’s something wrong with me,
or feel guilty that it is there.
In other words,
I’m simply going to allow myself to be
mindfully lonely 

and see what comes.

Sarah Carlson
October 8, 2017

Inner Symphony

 October Rose Blossoms - Clearwater Lake, Maine

Inner Symphony

Occasionally I just need to get away.
I’ve always been like that, but in my youth
the opportunity to do so wasn’t always there.
The more I honor my health,
 the more I understand
that getting away is actually a going to.
When I feel overwhelmed by discordant energy
that sometimes surrounds,
it is good and right to sit with
my own orchestrations.
Whatever is there is mine,
giving me the choice of where
I want to direct my attention.
Undertones of fear and worry
once had their place,
when exposing my big energy
actually was not safe.
And so those tempos are strong.
 At times I still default to them
when I'm uneasy in the novelty
that comes with healing.
All I need to do is notice them,
maybe even say,
“Thanks for showing up,
for your help in the past,
but I think I’ll try a new way this time.”
I can breathe, let them flow through
and cascade away.
I’m the conductor now,
my inner symphony becoming
so much more harmonious as
my refreshing rhythms,
my multiple melodies
ring strong and true and free.

Sarah Carlson
October 6, 2017