FEAR by Mary MacManus

Fear was once my way of life…

Yet being one with fear helped me to survive life-threatening situations in the violent and chaotic household I grew up in. I did not even realize that I was afraid then.

However, once the danger passed, living in a constant state of fear drained my energy and robbed me of the opportunity to live my life to the fullest.

My beloved teacher and healer, David Vendetti, was the first person to help me name and claim my fear.

During a bodywork session, David stopped the work he was doing and placed his hands on my heart. He then had me place my hands over his hands to let me know we were in this together. He told me, "This is fear...this is heart trembling fear," and then proceeded to help me share with him through my body the rage and fear that resulted in trembling.

Shortly after this session, to address my fear, my pen -my Divining rod- helped me to articulate the experience of fear. As a result, I was able to put some distance between me, and the state of fear, and awaken to the healing power of Divine Love.

Fear

Once my shroud

the walking dead

the veil of trauma shreds.

I walked with fear today

she cast a long shadow on the path

crevices and pitfalls hidden in the darkness

I stumbled and fell listening to her song in a minor key

a haunting shrill refrain echoing a funeral dirge.

Living in fear is death

she ruled my life when I believed her seductive lies

stripping my integrity

robbing me of my freedom

somehow if I allied with her I'd be safe.

But her power pales in the light of Truth

Breath the antidote to her venom

cleansing the mind numbing slumber

as strength and courage fill every fiber

hydrating my once shrunken self.

I rise from the rubble with grace and gratitude

awakened by the power of love in the sangha

daring to soar to new heights

leaving fear in the dust.

~This poem is from my Songs of Freedom:

Poems From a Healing Odyssey Volume I: Elements of Healing~
(click here to purchase)

Photography by Niunidad 2010

Mary McManus poet, blogger, and yogini left her award winning career as a social worker at the Department of Veterans Affairs in May 2007 to heal her own life. During the dark night of her soul she began to express herself through poetry. Her pen became a divining rod for light, love, hope, possibility, health and wholeness. She began her journey of transformation and healing which took her to the finish line of the 2009 Boston Marathon and, in 2011, to her yoga mat. Mary holds a BS in Public Relations from Boston University and an MSW from Boston College. In January 2013 she will be a graduate of South Boston Yoga's 200 hour Body Awakening Teacher Training Program. Be sure to visit her website here and follow her inspirational blog here To hear Mary read selections from “Songs of Freedom:Poems From a Healing Odyssey” visit her youtube channel here. Mary's books of poetry are available on Amazon 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!~

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