I have been given peace,
though it is often elusive and difficult to identify
amidst the blessed chaos –
sacred moments of wild laughter,
piercing grief, hugs that linger to the bone –
I trust that peace is there, embedded in the living of life
©Ashley Castle Barnes
What if she follows her feelings
Down to their darkest-seeming directions,
To the center where she contains
And constrains,
And what if she dares to consider
That their darkness doesn’t dictate
Who she becomes
©Ashley Castle Barnes
Do a photo search for “feelings” and so many of the graphics you get are people in pain.
And the obligatory arms spread wide on a cliff or ocean shore.
Almost no in between, where we actually exist.
No wonder we see feelings are “good” or “bad” – that’s what is reflected to us.
No wonder we try to escape the “bad” feelings in search of the “good” – it’s what we’re expected to do.
This time of year is always nostalgic and sad for me. Feelings I’ve historically categorized as “bad”.
If I’m being honest, I still do. Because they feel bad.
And they feel bad because they poke at unhealed places, raw places, ignored places, stuck places.
They shine a light into what feels like darkness, so I know where to offer grace.
I’m dancing with this darkness today, allowing it to remind me that while it dances with me, it isn’t me.
Not who I’ve been, or who I will become.
How are you dancing with darkness and feelings today?
Grief and laughter,
Which one does she access
And which does she avoid,
One a shadow of the other
On any given day
And not so starkly different
When all is said and done
©Ashley Castle Barnes
Every so often, I’m reminded of the intimate dance between grief and joy.
How maybe they’re not really on a spectrum, opposite of each other, but more closely related than we might like to acknowledge.
How we have great capacity to experience both at the same time.
How we can’t fully step into one without fully stepping into the other.
And how we often avoid both, whether we realize it or not.
How are you stepping into or avoiding joy or grief today?
Right in front of her
Lie the answers
They’ve been there all along
And yet sometimes the easiest things
Are also the hardest,
Bearing down,
Pressing on her heart
Like a heavy blanket of grief,
The knowing what to do
And the not wanting to do it
©Ashley Castle Barnes
I’ve had a “liminal” situation for a couple of years now that has created an ebb and flow of feelings: grief, hope, anger, excitement, frustration, connection, inadequacy.
It’s not a life or death situation. Nevertheless, it’s taxed my energy, which has in turned taxed other areas of my life.
It’s been a constant thorn in my side.
All because I’ve allowed it to be.
To be fair to myself, there are some aspects that are definitely out of my control and that I’ve tried with little success to change.
I’ve talked to a lot of people to try to clear my head and the energy I carry around it. I get regular massage and energy work to move the stuckness.
And it’s not all bad; in fact, there are many positives about the situation.
Still, I persist in carrying it like a weight rather than an opportunity.
I work with people in similar situations and I know what I would tell them.
Actually, I wouldn’t tell them anything.
I would work with them to clear the energetic blocks and then I would share with them what their energy is telling them.
And I’d help them formulate simple actions that support the shift and that create an anchor while they’re in this liminal space of transition.
I don’t have a “me” in my life that I work with in that exact way, but I am immensely grateful for all the people who have listened to me, given advice, offered encouragement, held space, helped shift the energy.
Sometimes the answer is right there, we just need the energy to shift.
Who is helping you shift today?
In her heart
She feels it rising
Anger, Rage
Unspeakable grief
For one more
And one more
And still another
The end never reaching
The shore of dying hope
When will it end?
When will it end?
©Ashley Castle Barnes
I’m a word person, but there are times that words escape me.
When there simply aren’t words to share that will make anything better or different.
These are also the times when silence isn’t enough either.
When nothing is enough.
The only action that would be enough is change.
Real, lasting change.
Yet it feels so out of reach.
And so we grieve. We rage. We march. We hold each other tightly.
And we keep searching for the right words, the right actions, the right feelings that will lead to the change we so desperately desire.
And we ask: When will it end?
For all who feel the sorrow
For all who carry the gravity
Of a situation they can’t control
For all who feel useless inside
For all who feel scared outside
Yet go on anyway
For all who feel joy in the quiet moments
Despite the burning around them
For all who don’t see a way forward
I envision for us the blocks being carried away
I envision for us the streams running free
Carrying away our collective tears
I envision for us the waves of grief washing over
Leaving us battered and spurting and healed
I envision us holding each other’s hands
In sweet surrender
©SpiritLed 2020
Photo by Daan Stevens on Unsplash
I reached out to a friend the other day to see how she was doing. Like many, she wasn’t doing well. She hadn’t slept well. She was anxious. And moreover, she was feeling understandably powerless, alone, disconnected, and scared in the midst of this global crisis we’re all experiencing.
I know because I’m seeing the posts and comments on social media with people sharing how scared and alone they feel. People fearing for their families’ health and safety. People fearing for our most vulnerable populations. People fearing this will never end.
I’m feeling the collective grief and sadness. The kids who are missing graduations and proms and friends. The people who are sick. The horrific predictions of how this all could go and how many we could lose. The people who have become severely ill and those who have died. The healthcare workers and “essential employees” who are putting their own lives at risk for ours. The people who have lost their livelihoods and don’t know how they’ll survive when this is over.
And the ambivalence of waiting. Many things feel as if they’re moving faster than ever, yet we’re at home, not knowing what will come next. Not knowing when this will end. Not knowing what or who will be left when it does.
Then that terrible feeling of aloneness. Despite this shared experience with billions across the globe, a dozen Zoom calls a day, and for some, multiple quarantine buddies, there is an unbearable sense of being caged. For the many who are physically alone, the loneliness is even more raw and real.
I was working at home full time, but now I’m on furlough, for up to 10 weeks. I’m figuring out how to be unemployed and I don’t have a new routine created yet, so I’m feeling out of sorts.
Although I have a job to go back to for now, I know that few of us will avoid some pain from the financial devastation that’s coming. I’ve also been battling a mysterious fever that comes and goes but doesn’t get high enough to really worry.
Nevertheless, it’s unsettling.
My daughters are feeling caged in, bored, and their raw, teenage emotions are being directed mostly at me.
And in the middle of it all, my sweet cat, Alice, died unexpectedly. Grief upon sadness upon restlessness upon fear. At times, it feels overwhelming, and like it may never end.
What we need right now is support – to feel our feelings and know we’re not alone. So, when I reached out to my friend that day, as she shared how she was feeling, I listened. I set aside my own thoughts and really heard her.
Then I asked her, How can I support you?
Yet something so basic, so fundamental to our existence as a social creature, often feels so elusive. We’re taught to be independent and strong, to do for everyone else but not to need anyone else. Until we can’t do it anymore.
That’s not going to work in this current reality. We need for our bodies and minds to be strong to get through this, and for what we’ll be called to afterwards. To do that, we need to allow all the emotions to come. We need to feel heard and cared for in the midst of the chaos. We need safe spaces to process until we can return to our Divine purpose.
Because despite all our collective feelings of disconnection, powerlessness, aloneness, and fear, we have access to an innate strength and power – CONNECTION.
I’ve put together a Crisis Care Package, with a collection of supportive offerings.
I’m also available and have open space on my calendar. I invite you to consider scheduling a connection call with me to support whatever is happening in your life right now.
Together, we can get through this.
There are times to grieve
And times to heal
Times to withdraw
And times to change
There’s no reason
These times can’t be all this
And more
Through tidal waves of grief
She rises from the depths
Holding each wave dear
As she releases it to rest
Deep on the bottom
A foundation for her next step
On this day, I purge the grief
Which so hauntingly stole
My younger years,
Disguised as busyness and misdirection,
The fear of loss so great
That I could not move forward,
Clinging to a past that no longer existed
Even in my mind,
Thinking I was living in today
Yet without the constant stream of freshness
To cleanse the words of yesterday
And make way for more tomorrows,
That stream stagnant for so long
Finally loosened by words buried deep,
Expressions of the love I could not speak
Yet was always at the ready
To spill from frozen lips,
These words, not just for me
But for all who’ve lost,
All who grieve,
All who seek a better way,
A brighter path to live today
©SpiritLed 2019
Photo by Karsten Würth (@karsten.wuerth) on Unsplash
Cat Lady Poet 