There is a Spot For Me

There is a Spot For Me

As the New Year approaches
I again find myself missing you,
deeply and lovingly.
Gentle recollections wash
sweetly around and through as
I remember the sensations of
our little family living and
growing in this home.
This was our spot, together.
Through healing, I have recognized
 that my broken, frozen places
were already there.
But during those married
and family years,
I felt like I belonged,
I had a spot.
Our togetherness and shared love
enabled my light to be quite bright.
The years since your death
have led me in, through,
below, and beyond.
I’m somewhat in awe that,
in choosing to explore and heal,
I’ve discovered a radiance
that is bright and strong,
has amazing facets that
continue to be revealed.
This once broken heart opens
so wide sometimes that it
literally feels as if all my cells uncoil
and my possibilities are endless.
The Light of Love penetrates further in
and emanates further out.
Whether in this home we shared,
or other places I know not where,
it’s wonderful to know that
even though you are gone,
there is a spot for me.

Sarah Carlson

December 31, 2017

Solstice Sun

Sunset - December 21, 2017

Solstice Sun

Solstice sun slips behind
a familiar landscape
and the darkest day is done.
That sun, though visible for so little time,
still holds warmth and brightness.
In truth, it’s us here on Earth who
are in cyclical motion,
but we perceive the sun
as traversing across our sky.
The Solstice sun rides low on the horizon,
casts long shadows,
helps us recognize
the impact of the dark.
For many days onward
there is a lightening as
radiance expands in a
rather imperceptible way.
This lightening brings with it
a deeper warmth,
a crystallizing of hope,
the promise of new life to come.
Surely the dark is part of the cycle,
will always be,
but if one is aware and
notices the expansion,
there is further opportunity
to open to the possibilities
that accompany the
splendor of light.

Sarah Carlson

December 28, 2017

On the Right Track

On the Right Track

Oftentimes I do feel
I am on the right track.
I attend to my valid sorrows,
welcome breathy joys,
value my unique self.
I am full of purpose,
radiance, and vitality.
But then sometimes
 I feel adrift, lonely,
and weary of grief.
At times tear surface and
I can't identify their origin.
They come quickly,
catch me by surprise,
clearly need to flow.
They come and they go,
but leave me with a gentle unease.
I believe that some
of the defunct lessons
I absorbed are still
unsnarling and
I don’t need to understand

 the leftover tangles.
Just the writing of that
 produces peace.
I can feel my body relax,
my mind settle,
my spirit soothe.
I think I will make the choice

 to gratefully and lovingly
continue on my way,
trust that I truly am
on the right track.

Sarah Carlson

December 27, 2017

Make No Mistake

I saw this shovel hanging on a sapling while walking the trail along the brook behind my house. It was in the early afternoon after the first snow. I was fascinated by how the load it was carrying couldn't seem to slip all the way off as it was warmed by the sun. I posted the picture with this:

Afternoon sunbeams, shovel in a tree.

Snow slides slowly, not quite free.

The next day I had an osteopathic treatment and then, as often happens, wrote a new poem inspired by some of what surfaced during and after my session. I wondered if I had a picture to pair it with and, as I looked through my photos, it became clear this is a perfect fit.

Make No Mistake

I recently realized
that I’ve lived just about all of my life
trying to not make any mistakes.
The definition of a mistake was nebulous,
didn’t come from me,
involved fear and threat.
This has been quite a revelation.
I mean, really?
I spend all my working days teaching children
that it’s okay to stumble,
that those are the times when we learn the most.
They know I accept them right where they are,
will stand by them as they recover from a blunder,
will walk with them as they move ahead.
And, in truth,
I have lived that
on some level within, as well.
But way, way, way deep down inside
the drive to make no mistake
has been a strong and swift undercurrent
with a surreptitious potency.
It made me quick to accept responsibility
whenever anything went wrong.
For so very long I assumed that the
‘push aways’ were always totally my fault.
I had this weird double standard
where I understood other people’s
struggles so easily and could
be there to support and help.
Yet, mine were because
I must have made a mistake
somewhere along the way
and I deserved to hurt.
Make no mistake?
Humanly impossible!
And so now I must remember to
be gentle with my self
as I recover and move ahead.
I will gratefully continue to receive,
allow caring and healing
to dilute and diffuse,
as the burdens I lugged for so long
continue to slip away.
Message to self:
make no mistake -
I am perfectly human,
just like anyone else.

Sarah Carlson

December 12, 2017

At the Same Time

At the Same Time

At the same time I hurt,
I am healing.
At the same time I waver,
I flourish.
At the same time I yearn,
I feel settled.
At the same time I worry,
I feel safe.
At the same time I quicken,
I am mindful.
At the same time I wonder,
I know.
At the same time I am solitary,
I commune.
At the same time I doubt,
I believe.
At the same time I
acknowledge sadness,
I feel triumph 

that can be followed by
deep, breathy, permeating joy.

It validates, allows, transmutes.
I can gaze both upward and inward,
revel in the wonders
of being me.

Sarah Carlson

November 29, 2017