FINDING BALANCE by Sarah Whitman

Before becoming a mother, I thrived on new and different experiences...

I worked as a newspaper reporter and met new people everyday. My work weeks allowed me to experience everything from life at a women's prison to life in the circus. I dreamed of seeing the world as a travel writer. Of course, I also dreamed of becoming a mother and when that dream became real with the birth of my son in 2012, I knew instantly I wanted to dedicate my time to him.

In March 2013, I left my office reporting job to become a work-from-home religion columnist.

Today, my son is four years old. My daughter, Paige, will turn one in August. They are my heart. I love watching them learn and grow. I also miss the life I used to lead. I wrote this poem about finding the balance between pursuing my personal dreams and being a fully present mom.

Finding Balance

by Sarah Whitman

Mom said
What I set my mind to
I can do
But anxious thoughts
Interrupt progress
Be this
Do this
Because
You aren't enough
Because
You should be grateful
Because

Doubt stops time
Wanderlust paralyzes me
I accomplish nothing
No, I sit still
Hold the baby
Stare at the cartoon wall

Yes I miss dreaming
The Nile River
Build a school in Africa
See the Orangutan in Borneo
I want to
Be there
And here
Here where simple seconds
Cascade like Niagra Falls
Niagra, Niagra I use to cry
Trapped in a maze

Love set me free
Now that love is alive
Living breathing little voices
And I listen
I watch and I know
If I go
They go too
To Borneo
To the Castles
To the Adriatic sea

Sarah Whitman is a writer and mother living in Tampa, Fl. As the religion columnist for the Tampa Bay Times, she covers a broad range of faith and spiritual-related topics. She recently started a personal poetry page on Facebook and welcomes mothers to submit their writings to the site. To visit Mama Dickinson, click here.

~If you are interested in seeing your poetry appear in this blog, or submitting a poem by a woman that has inspired you, please click here for submission guidelines. I greatly look forward to hearing from you!~

Comments

IMAGINE A WOMAN by Patricia Lynn Reilly

This poem invites you to look upon yourself with loving kindness… Gazing at your own true reflection, you will discover that everything you have longed for “out there” is already within you! I invite you to love your creativity fiercely. Faithfully plant seeds, allowing under-the-ground dormant seasons, nurturing your creative garden with love and gratitude. In the fullness of time, the green growing things thrust forth from the ground. It's a faithful, trustworthy process. AND it takes time and patience. Blessed is the fruit of your creative womb! I invite you to trust your vision of the world and express it. With wonder and delight, paint a picture, create a dance, write a book, and make up a song. To give expression to your creative impulses is as natural as your breathing. Create in your own language, imagery, and movement. Follow no script. Do not be limited by the customary way things have been expressed. Your creative intuition is original. Gather

IMBOLC by Caroline Mellor

The inspiration for this poem came after I watched a magical winter sunset and full moonrise from the top of Firle Beacon in the South Downs... Unusually for me, I wrote the poem quite quickly and changed it very little before publishing it – perhaps the energies were working through my pen! Imbolc is the mid-point between the winter solstice and the spring equinox. It’s a fire festival which I particularly love because of its associations with Brigid, the Celtic Mother Goddess of arts and crafts, clear sight, healing, inspiration and nurturance of creative talents – something which, through my writing, I am always trying to connect with. I also love Imbolc because, with so much darkness and negativity in the world today, it is a time for hope, potential, visioning and initiation. With love and blessings as the light returns. Photography by Chanel Baran IMBOLC by Caroline Mellor I am the dream of awakening. I am the returning of the night. I am the tough green

WINTER SOLSTICE: A GIFT OF LOVE by Carolyn Riker

I’ve had several days now of alone time… It is unusual and a gift that I couldn’t see until I breathed it. I have been able to watch the sun’s rise through the grey of dawn and smile at the flickers of frost melting on the waving boughs of evergreen. It’s unique to follow daylight as it traverses the tempo of a cat’s soft slumbering purr. Night comes swifter and the glow of candles and the flames of fire comfort me more than the steady stream of always-doing-more. As much as I resisted, I needed this break. I had no idea how much my body was trying to tell me slow down until the exhaustion settled in around my joints. My eyes swam in molasses. Heaviness of I-can’t-hold-out-much-long, walked me to the throne of my nest. It’s winter’s gift of self-nurturing and love. It’s been a quiet proclamation of femininity and a need for comfort foods. Lemon crisps and cranberry, white-chocolate shortbread dipped in tea; I felt a hint of being pampered without

Journey of the Heart

Search This Blog