And the World Turned

“Girl stood on the rocks with the water at her feet and the sun on her skin and a tear on her cheek

With her hand at her chest and the wind on her hair

Underneath her breath like a beggar’s prayer

She said

I miss you,

Come back to me…

But nobody heard

And the world turned…”


He’s not mine.

I hurt him so bad.

I caused him so much pain.

I cheated on him.

I’m such an idiot.

I made the worst decision and now I have to live without him.

I was the worst girlfriend.

I wasn’t good to him.

He’s probably told his new fiancé these things.


These words brought her to the ground. Standing felt like a dangerous balancing act. She began to only kneel on the floor. That’s where she cried. Palms to the floor, searching for a familiar heartbeat that wouldn’t be found anywhere she could touch. That’s where she ate. That’s where she showered. That’s where she cried.

And where she couldn’t stop crying.

The days grew long. Sleep eluded her. Making decisions just wasn’t on any of her to-do lists.

I know this girl so well. She comes around every few months. Tango has been a breathtaking place for her to be held while she feels so sad.

Maybe you’re familiar with her, too?

I want to say goodbye to her for the last time but it’s been a process that feels like a tearing of my soul.

There’s a book called The Golden Compass. It’s the first of a series. In it, everyone has an animal companion that is a part of them. They’re deeply connected to one another and cannot be far from one another without feeling pain. Lyra is the name of a little girl whose fate is to save the world. She has her companion who can change animal shapes, named Pan. At one heart wrenching point, she has to get in a boat to sail into another world, leaving Pan on the dock. The pain the two suffer is described like a physical stretching and tearing apart. Lyra willingly and consciously makes the decision to part from Pan because she knows that she has to in order to secure the future that is better for everyone.

That separation is exactly how I’ve felt from time to time over the last 3 years. Lately, it’s hit almost full force…like the initial impact it had in the beginning. And the words I have told myself are so unkind, harsh, and most definitely not truths. Why has it come as such a surprise that kneeling is the only posture I can maintain?! The negative words I’ve filled my mind and heart with have been crippling and paralyzing.

It took 5 days to realize I needed to change each sentence into a positive one. I was overwhelmed and couldn’t start the task. The only sentence I could repeat over and over was, “I am strong.”

Wildly enough, I started to feel stronger. My yoga practice felt shaky and I was trembling but I wasn’t crying! And I heard myself laughing as I held my plank for “another 5 breaths”. (Oh. My. Word!) Discovering that joy was still welcome even in a weak and not-so-strong feeling pose was like receiving a small gift that could start making things better.

Even though standing still felt like I had sea legs, each tango embrace helped me feel a bit stronger. A bit more certain. A bit more kind to myself.

While it feels like I’m making slow progress, it seems like the hope has changed. I no longer hope for the future that keeps me sad.

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