“How do I know who I am?”

“How do I know what I want?”

“How do I trust myself?”

People ask me these questions all the time. I ask me these questions all the time. And answers always come from getting to the bottom of how you feel. Sorting through the mess of voices to get to the truth.

Knowing doesn’t come from the anxious mind that’s asking. You have to feel it. So I wrote a poem because I genuinely think that’s the best way to arrive there. Poetry is the language of feeling. It uses words to knock on the door of the Soul. I don’t know anyone who doesn’t want to meet their Soul.

Look for the room where the candle is lit, 

where you see the flame

and there’s no mistaking the heat. 

Wander until your feet feel the Earth,

where there’s life underneath you

and there’s no mistaking your own.

Don’t get lost in thoughts and words,

growing taller and more out of reach.

Stay close to the spirit and learn how it likes to speak.

Listen for the voice that doesn’t talk down,

need proof or want someone to blame.

Listen for the voice that isn’t wearing anyone else’s skin.

Listen for the voice that’s naked, 

and always speaks up for your heart.

Don’t worry about seeing miles ahead.

Fire only illuminates the next step.

If you plan the rest now, 

you miss where inspiration wants to guide you,

where there’s no doubt your Soul is home. 

Yesterday was the new moon. This is the phase when the moon is completely in shadow, invisible from Earth. So it’s darker out, which means a time for going inward and letting the inner voice speak.

I love noticing nature’s rhythms. It’s freeing to let go of my agenda and lean into this larger force.

So I did a little ceremony to invite in the energy of the new moon. First, I prepared my space. I turned off most of the lights and lit candles. I put this song on repeat. I tidied up anything that caught my attention. I got myself a glass of water. I made a little altar. A quartz crystal (representing air), a candle (fire), an abalone shell (water) and a lemon (earth).

Curating the environment gave me time to ease in and go deeper. (Like setting context before sharing a poem.)

I did all of this prep, not knowing what would happen. I didn’t set out to write a poem. I just got in the zone, and trusted. Sometimes, I get nervous without a plan or a structure. Okay. That’s there. But I just leaned in - that’s the essence of the new moon. And this came out. And it felt really good.

savor this frequency

the space between

being

hearts silent

connected

retrain my diaphragm

to breathe smooth 

to hold steady

when it wants to slip away

to sip slowly

when it wants to grasp for air

the other muscles

iron out their nervous wrinkles

clear

the darkness

lights a new path

hovering over the old

free to make a different choice

can it be easier?

can I let myself be led

by a softer voice?

one that can’t be heard over the din

of traffic

or reality tv

one that can’t compete

with jagged self-doubt

finer than the comb of “what should I do?”

grander than what’s possible to understand

sometimes

the curtain just opens

and the nakedness of now is center stage

every other voice falls away

nothingness

embrace

I woke up today with a plan for what I was going to write. I made myself breakfast and sat down at the table. Looking at the computer, my stomach dropped. My plan didn’t match what I felt.

When I came up with it, I was excited. But now, it feels like a chore. And forcing myself into a cage is not why I write poetry. I write poetry to find magic in the truth.

I write poetry to guide me toward flow, even when it isn’t what I expected when I turned on the tap.

This morning, turning on the tap, I am in an apartment I’m moving out of, surrounded by objects I have to get rid of in the next ten days. I am overwhelmed by the life my past self created. I’m ready for what’s next. Pero bueno…

I had a whole plan

for what I would write.

But now I feel, “fuck it.”

I’m less than alright.

I don’t want to make something

that misses my pain.

I don’t want to ignore

my stress and my strain.

My stomach feels icky,

my head is a mess.

I’m doubting myself.

I’m afraid and depressed.

I want to write freely,

from the nowest of nows.

And in this very moment,

it just feels like “ow.”

I could push it aside.

I could press on instead.

But that’s what I used to do.

I ended up dead.

This week, I’m sharing a poem I wrote on a night walk through a marina. Water often inspires me. And I am compelled to find two-dimensional words to capture my three-dimensional experience. In other posts and in life, I’ve been exploring SPACE. Nothingness, the absence of something. In this case, darkness, silence, and death, as the necessary opposite of LIFE. Today, I am offering Muunie the Artist, and Muunie the Coach takes a backseat.

A black sheet

draws itself closer, 

to tuck me in.

Sipping the pavement,

She sparkles, 

almost silent.

Thick, grey sky -

a near perfect mirror.

A white bird,

SQUAWK!

slices the darkness.

A silver body ebbs and flows in the water.

Its time to choose

has passed.

Shame is corrosive,

It burns to the touch.

Agent of anguish, 

turns my insides to dust.

Quietly raging

it poisons the pipes

Feeding on hatred

And starving out life

Each hand built pyramid

Cut down to sand

Nothing left solid

Nowhere to stand

A tool for control

Now an unchecked power

A tortured seed 

Blooms a tortured flower

My fragile spark 

Craves somewhere safe

To light my way

And grow in faith

A different voice

That stands in power

A golden shield

Shame can’t devour

What is it about shame? It tears us down, but it also hides. It’s so intensely uncomfortable that the mere mention of it makes me want to crawl into a cave and never come out. But that’s how it stays alive, stays active. We don’t recognize it or call it out. Most often, we accept its claims that we are not good enough, and keep moving. It knows exactly where our sore spots are, after all, it created them. So we let it tell us exactly how intolerable we are in all these uniquely specific ways and let it steer our behavior. We avoid the things it programmed us to avoid. At some point, someone told us not to do something, yelled at us, hit us, embarrassed us, withdrew from us or left. Whether we know it or not, those reactions get imprinted in us. DON’T DO THIS THING OR ELSE THIS OTHER THING WILL HAPPEN TO US AGAIN. And we spend our lives tiptoeing around these landmines praying they don’t explode in our faces.

Even more problematic than the behaviors shame wants us to avoid, is the way this mechanism embeds itself into our consciousness and erodes our sense of self. Take a moment to consider a time shame spoke to you. How does its voice sound in your head? I’m guessing it wasn’t super polite. It’s usually pretty aggressive. It wants us to avoid whatever it thinks will be so intolerable AT ALL COSTS (even if it means agreeing that WE are intolerable). It may be telling us we ABSOLUTELY CANNOT pee our pants at the dinner table. In that case, we’d probably agree. Okay, shame, I hear you, I also don’t want to do that, so I will ask to go to the bathroom. But sometimes, it tells us we ABSOLUTELY SHOULD NOT make a total ass of ourselves by singing karaoke because only attention-seeking ego maniacs would get in front of an audience and think their voice deserves to be heard. Okay, shame, first of all, WHOA. You didn’t need to take that tone with me. Clearly you don’t want me to get up and sing in public.

But what do I want? Maybe I’m afraid that I will look dumb or I won’t sound good. Maybe I’ve seen people sing at karaoke and it felt cringey and that’s not how I want to come off. But…do I really want to live in fear of this bully? Do I want to smack down every thing I’m curious about or challenged by like a whack-a-mole? That’s kind of what it feels like to be yelled at like that - whether it seems like someone else’s voice or my own. Shame is not afraid to take the floor out from under us or cut us down so low, we wouldn’t dare sing karaoke, let alone, think we deserve to have a voice. It’s a slippery, slippery slope.

So, how do I stop shaming myself? A few things have to happen. STEP ONE (and this is the easiest, the hardest and the most important step) commit to not shaming yourself. It’s the easiest because it can be done simply and quickly. It’s the hardest because we have to mean it and take it seriously. If we’ve chronically self-shamed, it’s hard to take ourselves seriously. So, don’t take this step lightly. Take a moment. Place your hand on your heart. Take a breath. Tell yourself in these words or your own: Self, I commit to not shaming you. I commit to listening to you and creating an environment where it is safe to say what you want and need.

Great! Now, STEP TWO is enforcement. I’m going to level set with you. You are not going to overnight stop hearing shame’s voice. Although if you do, congratulations. I can’t wait to read your blog post. The key is how you receive it. When you hear it, you will interrupt the pattern of piling on MORE SHAME. As soon as you catch yourself in this cycle (it may take a few tries), place your hand on your heart, take a breath, and remind yourself of the commitment you made. Feel the energy of that commitment - grounded, aligned with your higher self. Remind yourself why you made it. 

STEP THREE: let yourself feel the physical sensations shame brings with it, while staying grounded in your higher self. Remember that intensely uncomfortable feeling we will do anything to avoid? Well, the more we avoid it, the more power it has over us. When we turn away from it, we reinforce the message that the feeling itself is intolerable, will overpower us, or could kill us. As gross as it is, this is simply not true. So, when that feeling bubbles up, keep your mind focused on your commitment to yourself and use it to observe the physical sensations that come with the shameful thought. Maybe there’s a tightness in your chest. Breathe and watch it. Maybe there’s a churning in your stomach. Breathe and watch it. Maybe you feel disgust in your groin. Breathe and watch it. There’s — No — Rush. Notice if the feelings get more or less tolerable. If they are getting less tolerable and you feel yourself being consumed, let yourself drop it for now, take a few breaths to reset, and go do something else that brings you back to Earth. If it feels more tolerable, congratulations! You’ve processed some of your shame and taught your body that it is okay to feel. Now you have more agency to do whatever it is that you actually want to do. You are more free to not act from reaction or avoidance. Good job!