This poem came on the
eve of Thanksgiving while contemplating on all the parts we often struggle
with…
Those
parts that we have a hard time hearing, knowing, and being with, around this
time of year when it's often difficult to hear our own voices.
It also came out of that space, and
time, when we think more intensely about those we no longer have (physically)
in our lives.
This poem is a tribute to all those
parts that make us whole and offer us opportunity for growth and further reason
to give thanks for all that we are.
 |
| Pictured is the author Krista Katrovas |
My Parts
Sometimes
I wonder,
even
while teaching yoga,
if
I’m having a heart attack
because
my heart swells
with
remembrance of those I’ve loved
then
lost in physical form
or
in some other way
and
I’m in awe
of
how they continue
to
visit me.
Sometimes
in downward facing dog
I
can hear something they’ve said,
like,
“I’ll be here with you forever,”
or,
“No one, or nothing,
can
keep me from loving you,”
then
realize the memory of their words
is
all that’s left of them.
Change
is truly
the
only constant
we
can count on.
Sometimes
in child’s pose,
when
my forehead presses gently
into
the mat,
I
can feel the beginning again
before
my heart got so big,
before
my muscles filled with memory
with
memory different
from
the ones I carried
with
me through birth
left
behind from my ancestors.
Those
days in child’s pose
are
often the days
I
hurt the most.
Sometimes
in tree,
I
balance between worlds,
between
my manager self,
holding
it all together,
my
critic self, one that never let’s me
give
anything but my best.
My
child self only wants
to
jump on the bed
eat
cotton candy
ride
my skates along the boardwalk
watching
the waves kiss the shoreline
before
returning again into the deep.
I
also look at my adult child
and
remember to go swinging,
so
what if I’m in my forties,
my
toes can still touch the clouds.
Sometimes
I lie in final resting pose
savasana,
as corpse, deadened
from
awareness of body,
breath,
mind,
connect
to my divine self,
to
my Goddess Self,
and
find peace with all my parts,
with
all the heart aches, let down’s,
and
rest, rest, rest in peace
knowing
my magical mat
will
be here tomorrow,
the
day after next,
to
take me on this journey
deep
into my parts,
where
things hurt,
where
things have fallen apart,
where
memories surface,
come
crashing again
like
ravishing waves
seemingly
able to make me drown.
But
my breath and movement
offer
me time
to
acknowledge
the
courage its takes to fall,
to
scuff my knees, and learn
from
the fall.
I
have loved,
loved
so much
it’s
enough
to
make my heart swell
again
and again
for
every person
on
this planet
including
those
that
have broken my heart
and
that its OK
because
it's healing me
and
good for them
and
me.
~
Krista Katrovas (E-RYT) has dedicated herself to the practice, study and teaching of yoga since discovering it in 1999 after dancing rigorously as a dance major in college. Krista has had scores of articles on Yoga, Wellness, and Spirituality published in nationally regulated magazines. She has a regular column at Elephant Journal here. She has taught Yoga in Prague every July since 2009 and has been sought to teach in Kuwait, Canada, Virginia, California, Kentucky, and Florida. She calls Kalamazoo, Michigan home, where she teaches Yoga, Meditation, offers Spiritual guidance, and practices Shamanism. She has cats, though also loves dogs, all animals. Her power animal is the Snowy Owl. Visit her yoga website 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!~
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