There are moments when
I catch glimpses myself –
where I picture the kind of woman
I am becoming though
she sometimes feels far away.
I will be in a yoga class and
feel in my body a sense of home on the mat.
“Yes, here,” will be whispered into my heart.
I will stay even if uncomfortable.
I may be holding the hand of another
while they are dying and
listening to their softening voice
while witnessing their growing transparency.
I offer my humanity and breath while I take them in.
Once I was at the beach walking.
The sea spoke to me.
“You belong. Come here often. No need to call ahead.”
I found my home in the world
while listening to the music of the surf.
Now I make time for my toes to be cradled by sand.
My heart, soothed by sea songs
in the tempo of wholeness and belonging.
I might be peeling carrots and
learning to cook tofu.
I have learned the value of green things.
“This is how to nourish. Eat these. Set this table.”
My body thanks me.
In the neighborhood, I walk
in the early morning by myself,
saying hello to the trees and bunnies.
It is an active solitude
where I converse with God.
Seeking guidance for my many steps,
I maintain my strength of body.
This is how I move forward into a new day.
Yes, this is me.
Then the words…
They call to me.
We are friends most of the time.
Metaphors and beauty, insights –
beckon me to the page.
Another tether to my soul formed.
Writing is an intimate action which
enables me, lifts me, soothes me.
Inspiration has become a cherished friend.
Absolutely. This is me.
I am acquainted with grief and pain.
My heart has been broken many times.
My body has failed me.
I have endured,
My wounded places have
transformed into fertile places.
I cultivate this inner garden of earned wisdom
by extending myself to others who similarly suffer,
trip, and find themselves on holy ground.
And finally, I can envision her…
a graceful, beautiful and wise woman
with silky silver hair and a sparkle in her eyes.
She is wrinkled in some places –
Soft in others.
This soul has a glow about her
which lights up a room with love and grace.
She is my north star.
Each day I make my way to her.
Moment by moment she is created
through my open present heart
and daily choices.
I allow her to emerge.
Copyright@Cynthia Cady Stanton, July 2022
2 thoughts on “The Places Where I Recognize Myself”
An empowering poem about longing and belonging. Beautiful, Cynthia!
Thank you, Barbara!
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