Push Away, Too

Push Away, Too

Hmmm, my last poem
has me pondering deeply.
I have to be honest and say that,
since Barry died,
 I have often felt pushed away
by people in my life.
That’s been real for me.
It hurts when it happens.
It’s been confusing, too,
because I know I invite others in,
want to genuinely connect,
extend loving compassion
into the world.
I realize that not every relationship
has to be deep.
I’m fine with that,
but I don’t understand why
I so often feel like I’ve been let in,
and then get pushed away.
Is it because of my early training
that I interpret it that way?
Do I unintentionally tap things
in people that they don’t
want to allow?
Because I developed a sturdy exterior,
have an intrepid nature,
do I sometimes push away, too?
Am I simply supposed to be
primarily exploring on my own?
I think maybe it’s a combination
of all of that and more.
I’m okay with not quite knowing,
feel comfortable that I don’t
have all the answers.
I do know that I will continue to
experience these questions,
trusting that clarity will come.

Sarah Carlson

November 24, 2017

Push Away

Push Away

Push away, push away,
powerful arms hold me at bay.
Then - come in, give me advice,
help me know how to be.
I tried so hard to do what was asked,
my young mind trained to be adept
at searching for answers
that were not mine to find.
Yet, even when I did,
the push-away happened
again and again.
My being became used to
this pull and this push,
mostly the push.
Then he came along,
gently invited me all the way in.
With great patience and care
he let me know that I was welcome
just as I was,
that his arms were loving and safe.
It felt so good to belong.
Through the struggles that life
inevitably contains,
our union was strong and sure.
When he died it made sense
that I felt lost and undone.
Now, all these years later,
one of the many things
I recognize is that
my early experiences
had me believing
that God was pushing me away, too.
That was real for me,
and yet not true.
Those fierce arms
of rejection and disapproval
 have lost most of their power.
I can appreciate my actual foundation,
relish the knowledge
that it’s been there all along.
As imposed falseness crumbles away,
I carefully, steadily
allow myself to believe
that God’s arms are loving and safe, too.

Sarah Carlson
November 23, 2017
Thanksgiving

Sweet Safety, Deepened

Photo by Jake Risch - Lower Shin Pond, Maine

This piece has been through many edits - quite a different process for me. More of the radiance of change, perhaps.

Sweet Safety, Deepened

When I slow down, take a pause,
I become more fully acquainted
with the tender, loving support
of the Divine.
Once a fledgling at this,
more and more I am able to
let myself relax into it
without reservation.
As I do,
my appreciation
of its bounty and benevolence
strengthens.
I thought I already had this, knew this,
but the beautiful reality of healing
is that, once invited,
 it happens in its own time,
doesn’t need to be forced,
or judged.
The more one settles,
the more there is to discover.
There are moments
when this deep healing feels like
a viscous, balmy tonic
with an amazing propensity
of seeping into the spaces
and places that need it most.
It caresses and coats them,
sinking to the depths
like the fine sediment of
gently flowing waters.
Particles of past traumas
swirl away with the flow,
and there is visceral relief,
as that sense
of sweet safety
deepens.

Sarah Carlson

November 11, 2017