A Poem for Reclined Bound Angle Pose (Supta Baddha Konasana)

"...As I lay, / angled and bound, I dream of restoring / the way my hips were born to flutter / and breathe water through their skin."

It’s so easy to think we are broken or that an older version of ourselves was somehow “better…”

…no matter your age. I have even heard my sons say that it is “too late” for them, or that everyone else is “ahead” because they are not famous by like age five or something.

Regret — or more accurately the thoughts that arise from the feeling of regret — can be sneaky like that. Convince us we are washed up or broken, or falling short.

I have had periods like that too. Especially when I decided to stop pursuing my poetry “career” when my first son was born. I tried, but he was no sack of potatoes. He had needs. A lot of needs. And I wanted to be there for him. It was like I watched my old life wash away as I played with wooden trains and went “all in.” I cried a lot, but that is what shedding an identity is like. It is hard to let go, but when you do… it can be liberating.

In my poem for Reclined Bound Angle Pose, I explore what it would look like to embrace the idea that I am already who…