So… The lows have been low lately. It's not all bad, but wowza, there's a hell of an undertow.

I got this poem climbing out of one such low. It feels like Rumi, to me.

The conversation. The wisdom. The anguish.

I quite like Rumi. I wrote a manuscript called Abandoning Rumi, actually. You can read the first chapter here on the blockchain. It won a writing contest by @thewritersblock last year, but I digress.

The poem.

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^{Photo: Todd Turner /Unsplash.}

A Conversation with Rumi

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I have betrayed myself.
What do I do now,
Other than cry on the floor?

Make the best of it.
Be humble.

I’m bad at that.
In fact, I suck at a lot of things.
I pretty much feel like one monstrous mistake.

You do not see your own beauty.

No.
Well.
Sometimes.

You let doubt overpower you.

I wasn’t always this way.
I had confidence once.
It disintegrated.

You have to let go.

I’m trying.
I’ve been trying. Forever.
What is this perpetual punishment?

Old, ancient shame. You volunteered for this work.

I know. I hate myself for it.

You have to love yourself through it.

Fuck.

Keep showing up.

That I can do.
Barely, but I can do it.
I want more than to endure, though.
So much more.

Keep showing up.
Breathe.

I am.
My heart won’t stop crying.
How do I stop it from crying?

Cry.

I can’t even do that right.
They interrupt me.

So laugh.

I do. Then I cry again.
And then I breathe, and I do the next thing.
But this—this trap of my own making—

It is only a trap if you see it as one.

Fine. My deliverance, then.
My penance.
I hate who I have to be to play this role,
What I have to make myself do.

Stop hating it.

How? Seriously. How?

See yourself as you truly are.
Be that.

I want to scream.

Howl at the moon. As you wish.

I don’t know how to do this.

Show up. Let go.
Keep breathing.
Sing. Dance. Write.

Yes. Those are the usual suspects.
Thanks for the reminder.

Anytime.

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Original writing by Katrina Ariel

I hope you enjoyed that snippet from the voices in my head. The cynical one never seems to let up, but the goddess has my back. I walk the line, though, more often than I’d like to admit.

Maybe it’s just a spring cleanse. Maybe it’s starting a new physio program and re-learning how to breathe. Maybe I’m just a tired mom. Probably all of the above.

I’ll keep showing up. Thanks for reading.

Whatever happens, keep singing your song!

Peace. @katrina-ariel

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Author bio: Katrina Ariel is an old-soul rebel, musician, tree-hugging yogini, and mama bear to twins. Author of Yoga for Dragon Riders (non-fiction) and Wild Horse Heart (romance), she's another free-spirit swimming in the ocean of life.

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