Poem · Poetry · Uncategorized

The Places Where I Recognize Myself

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.

I stay.

Yes, here.

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,

grown.

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.

Yes. Me.

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

Photo by Vlada Karpovich on Pexels.com

Uncategorized

The Nub of It All

 

You will not find your way through a constant push. You will not reach your perceived pinnacle by force of will or never-ending trying. Believe it or not, the struggle is not necessary. In fact, it is harmful. For the more you exert against your imagined challenges, the farther away from presence you are. So, drop it all. Let go of your effortful ways. Open your eyes and look upon yourself as if you are separate from who you are in the world…because, in fact, you are. And as you look, don’t you dare be harsh. For there is no judgment here. We are all given this chance to learn to correct ourselves and embrace a larger belonging. We are born infants in a world which leads us astray from the truth of who we really are. Only those who catch glimpses of this reality are able to wake up and be free. So, get curious about how you move through your day. Keep a watchful eye as to your habits and reactions – your feelings. Look within at your thoughts and the movement of your heart. Listen to your life. Observe how the world works and interacts but keep a larger view. Pay attention and open your heart and mind to inspiration. Take pauses. Be receptive to your learning. Eventually, the gift of freedom and unimaginable presence will bubble up within you, lifting you up and out of your misdirected ways, and bring you a sparkling and sustainable joy along with all the energy you need to do the work you are here to do. You will learn what love really is and how to extend it and embrace it. It is really that simple. You just get out of your own way. You learn to be.

Copyright© Cynthia Cady Stanton, 2019

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Poem · Poetry · Uncategorized

The Heart of It All

 

The hand that grasps and controls

is the same hand

that lets go.

 

The mind that sorts and decides

is the same mind  

that can be opened by mystery

or pain.

 

The eyes that do not really see

but look past,

are the same ones

that can catch the vision

of truth.

 

We are but soft clay

yet we act as if cast in stone –

armored in our ways.

But life is not done shaping us.

Changes always come to

meet us where we are

and show us another way.

 

The time for invocation is here.

So lift up your sad, stiff heart –

mistakenly broken by you alone –

and ask Life to soften it.

For the heart of it all,

it seems,

is to be anchored in softness –

so you can be ready for anything.

Copyright© Cynthia Cady Stanton, 2019

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Poem · Poetry · Uncategorized

Nurture

 

You are but a drooping plant

with a bowed-browned bloom.

Your light is not reflecting –

the shadows grow.

Grief visible like this

is more easily watered.

It calls out for nurturance.

When hidden,

it festers 

and roots into every pore,

making us sick –

stealing the colors.

This is the usual way…

for we are all good at facades

and hiding.

We smile brightly,

despite the pained cracks within.

    Where does it hurt, my friend?

Show me the place

and tell me the story.

Dig out the pain from

your hardened crusts – fashionably covered.

Lift your voice and let the cry be born.

Let me know what is needed.

Take the covers off

and allow the hurt to move you

to a new place of freedom.

All is well, and

I am here with you.

You belong.

Copyright© Cynthia Cady Stanton, 2019

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Poem · Poetry · Uncategorized

Lighted From Within

 

Oh, the view that blesses

when the horizon glows

whether morning or evening.

The bright moon in the distance

also inspires

as it illuminates the soul.

Seeing light from a distance

is an invitation

that instructs…

For I can wander in the darkness

for days

or even months…

but when the light enters in

from afar,

a new energy

begins to germinate again

as its beams touch me.

I become sprouted and fed –

even if only for a bit.

These glimpses provide for me.

As I grow and heal

and new branches form –

stretching me beyond

all the ways and limits –

daring to ignore the broken places –

the glow given grows.

I know healing has arrived

when I have less need

of the horizon

and all its sparkling colors.

Sure, the hues and brilliance

still are a gift and reminder…

They show me what lies deep within me –

the colors that shine and beam

through me

in a never ending way.

I am lighted from within

and I know where to look

when I need the horizon.

 

Copyright© Cynthia Cady Stanton, 2018

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Poem · Poetry

Calming the Outer Storm

It is a slow creep –

the way the stress of life builds.

We live bombarded

by the need to rush,

bending over backwards

to meet the demands.

The expectations given

feed our perfectionistic patterns

and we get lost

by the constant doing.

That is what living from the outside

is like.

It exhausts and

makes us into fools

who think we are being productive.

To live from within,

one must commit to

slowing the pace, and

nix the needy drive

that cares too much

what others think and believe –

that invests in having

and holding

all the things

that make us look good.

True peace resides

where inner knowing lives –

blanketed by what is true,

and by the power

of the unseen.

Living from the inside

means listening to

the whispers underneath –

the voice that beckons

and seeks to heal us –

Take a walk on the beach.

Let your feet crunch a wooden path.

Allow a cat to rest in your lap.

Bow your head and offer a prayer.

Observe and honor a compassionate moment.

These are places where the whispers await…

To live from the outside

is to get lost

in the whirlwind of

the superficial.

But to live from the inside

is to be fueled by

purpose and

to be connected to

a larger dimension –

a place that 

too few find.

Love is the main thing, of course.

It is the thread that connects us

at the soul

to God’s heart.

The only way to find peace

on this weary planet of ours

is to realize

that each one of us

is born to be free.

Our job and journey

is to discover that.

When we do,

the peace within

which passes all understanding

will bless us 

and enable us to be a blessing

for others.

Copyright© Cynthia Cady Stanton, 2018

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Poem · Poetry

Entering the Dance

When the winds are shifting,

and change is here,

I sometimes shudder with

fear, which blankets my heart

in a covering so itchy…

the restlessness it brings

grows like a cancer,

consuming health.

I wonder out loud,

and through every pore –

my cells scream

            No!

The resistance builds a wall

around my soul,

and I begin to hide.

I grieve…

the tears wash over

all the tensions and aches,

bringing yet another baptism.

Eventually, I remember

that changes bring a

kind of birthing process…

and I know there is

something beautiful coming

after this pain.

I love how tears

release and inform

all at once – as if

we must break, deeply –

apart and before

we can be refashioned.

These very insights, eventually

bring gratitude.

I know,

it does’t make sense

to the logical mind…

but it is the dance of Spirit

within and beyond me.

When I learn to 

accept the invitation to 

the dance of life,

letting go of my need to 

lead it,

I get lighter on my feet,

and my being

finally hears the music

and is wrapped in comfort  

and delight.

I am set free.

Copyright© Cynthia Cady Stanton, 2018

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Poem · Poetry

Beyond Chasing Tail

Round and round we go,

looping and repeating,

distracted with ourselves –

chasing tail.

Transformation comes only

when we lose interest

in this game –

when it finally dawns on us

how much time,

and how much energy

is lost

               in the constant spinning.

It is the miracle 

of the pause

which lifts us up

and out –

and helps us connect

to what is real and true.

We discover the wonder of rest, and

in the birth of this realization, 

we learn to drop the chase.

We are finally free.

Copyright© Cynthia Cady Stanton, 2018

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Poem · Poetry

Why I love the Morning

 

I rise early

in the dark and quiet

on purpose.

Just like the blank page calls to me,

so does the new day.

I create an intentional pause

to reflect upon and bow to

the morning I have been given.

You see, for me

Easter happens every morning –

a chance to begin again,

to allow God to be seen

by transforming me.

The stone is always ready

to be rolled away

and a new way of being

is possible.

As the sun rises,

I reflect on whether this day

is finally The Day

I trust this truth completely –

the whispers of hallelujah gently call

so Easter can be born 

in me

again.

 

Copyright© Cynthia Cady Stanton, 2018

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