CEMENTED IN AN ILLUSION

For being such a confident person,
I have a splash of insecurity too.
I really dislike its flare ups.
The land is cultivated.
A seed is pitched,
and it sprouts,
becoming its own separate entity.
Turning on its matriarch,
seizing total domination.
Playing me like a puppeteer!

Yesterday’s fears
haunt today.
Events which would otherwise
go unnoticed,
get magnified and distorted,
as if I’m looking through
a Funhouse mirror.

They compound
and gather momentum.
A runaway horse
trampling through my mind
and crushing my heart.
Tangled up in a labyrinth,
with no way out.
Cemented in an illusion
of my own creation.

How does one reconcile
thoughts twisted
in your own mind,
especially when your sounding board
has knotted circuit breakers?

How do you release yourself
from your own conjuring?

When your measuring tool
is what’s contorted,
how do you escape Mr. Houdini?

Unravel each crumpled thought,
one by one,
like the rubber bands
encased in a golf ball.
Fling them away.
Choose a mantra.
Sing your praises
in surround sound.
Mute self-doubt.

Breathe in Love!
Breathe out Gratitude!
Repeat.

Let go.
Let live.
Be free.
Fly!

Nancy L. Baskin Michlin, M.Ed., C.H.C
June 2, 2015
Poem #397

My Bravado Is Back! 

I have owned it.
I’ve identified with it.
I am Proud.
And I Celebrate.

In parallel,
there are still times
it almost seems like
it happened to a different person.
A universe on a lateral plane.

I see myself on a video screen…
It does not look like me.
It doesn’t feel like me.
It feels like someone
totally separate from me.

Sometimes I wonder,
who is this woman
who looks back at me?
I am proud of her.
I am in awe of her.
I am amazed
she is me.

She stands
before humanity,
completely exposed.
Emotionally.
Spiritually.
Physically.

Openly sharing the scars
that burned her soul.
Displaying the indelible
Purple Heart
slashed across her chest.
The remnants of
relentless mutilation.

Where was the turn?
When was the shift?
There was a time,
she could barely
have her husband look upon her.
Even the mirror
was her foe.
Now she’s poised
before the world to behold.

She. Me. Her. I.
broke through a protective barrier,
without even knowing it,
until stepping through the debris.
Brick by brick,
the Dividing Wall
melted away.
Almost imperceivable.

The Phoenix has risen,
soaring through
the majestic sky,
over the mountaintops,
to new heights,
and a breathtaking view!
Panoramic landscapes.

No more hiding.
Like a long lost friend,
my bravado is back!

Nancy L. Baskin Michlin
May 14 – 16, 2015
Poem #396
STRIPPED: Deconstructed + Reconstructed

IMG_5891-0

Radio Spot! Back To Health 4 Life! 

If you have a minute (okay an hour), please listen to my guest spot on the Love, Trust, Pixie Dust radio show! We talk about ways to increase your overall health and wellness! 

https://player.cinchcast.com/?assettype=single&show_id=7587749&version=2.0&platformId=1

Check Out Self Help Podcasts at Blog Talk Radio with Love Trust and Pixie Dust on BlogTalkRadio with Love, Trust & Pixie Dust on BlogTalkRadio

Targeted Butterfly Effect

Butterflies fluttering
in my psyche.
Morphing into
dragons.
Creating a monsoon.
Flashing lights.
Orange cones.
Struggling to direct
their flight line.
Breathing
my intention
into the wind.
Shepherding
a targeted
Butterfly Effect.
And then —
Let. It. Go.

Nancy L. Baskin Michlin, M.Ed., C.H.C.

April 27, 2015
Poem #395

Targeted Butterfly Effect

Given Your History…

Once you experience
a life-threatening illness,
your medical records
are seen through
a distinct viewfinder.
They are forever
colored and tainted.
A red line is drawn,
and everything afterwards
takes on a shadowed hue.
Healthcare professionals
look at your results differently.
Given Your History…
How you receive
your results is far altered
from “BEFORE.”
Running thoughts and fears
curse through
your body, mind, and soul.
Your balance
is off kilter.
Your chi
is flooded
with deafening static.
You wade through the details,
struggling for focus.
The voices
in your head
are relentless.
Lasso the runaway angst.
Rein in the panic.
Keep it tethered
by your side.
Break the loop
in your head.
Flip the record.
Move the needle.
Chant affirmations.
Drown out the clamor.
Claw out of the rabbit hole.
Breathe.
Nancy L. Baskin Michlin
April 24, 2015
Poem #394

HERE I AM!!

I will never forget the anxiety and fear I felt this night three years ago. It was the night before my first mastectomy. I said to my husband Chris, in the protection of his arms lovingly wrapped around me, crying on his chest, “I don’t want to do this.” I inhaled and sighed with all the resolve I could muster, “But you know I will.”

I cannot begin to tell you what I felt that night. I was scared, grabbing onto my breasts, holding on to them as tightly as I could, knowing the left one had to go. I wanted to run away and hide on a warm, beautiful island. When I closed my eyes, I could almost feel the warm, ocean air caressing my skin. Upon opening my eyes, that same air chilled me to my bones. I knew as far as I could run, the stalker, the beast would still be on my heels. I knew I would do whatever it took to get, and stay, cancer-free.

Three years later, HERE I AM!! That night, I had no idea what was to come or who I’d be today! Stronger, healthier, and better than ever before!! Nancy Version 2.0!! There is abundant sunshine on the other side of the mountain!

Nancy L. Baskin Michlin, M.Ed., C.H.C.

2012-02-10 & 04-14 Goodbye Girls! v3

2012-06-15 Yes, They're Fake!

The Waiting Room

THE WAITING ROOM

Breathe.
Keep thoughts clear.
Choose my own loop.
Hand.
Pick.
Each.
Thought.
At.
A.
Time.
Laser point focused,
as the sun
through a magnifying glass.

Abandon any thoughts
outside of my circle.
Fold them up,
and send the away,
as a paper airplane.
Do not let them
penetrate
my Belief Bubble.
If the music
in my head skips,
move the needle.
Harness runaway thoughts.
Tether rumination.

I am safe.
I am clean.
The home I inhabit
has perfect feng shui.

*One tear
was an escapee.*

Breathe.

THE CAR RIDE HOME

Emotions pinging.
Ricocheting like lottery balls.
Each scrimmage depletes
more energy than
the most intense workout.

Struggling to decode
the enemy’s war plans.
My home is the battlefield.
A Purple Heart
slashed across my chest.
Striving to eavesdrop
on the frontline.
No ambushes tolerated.
Targeting for total annihilation.

Tears on the edge.
Contained all day.
Wheels to road.
Alone in my cocoon.
Tears splash.
Spontaneous release.
Fear.
Joy.
Relief.
Liberation.
All is pure again.

Nancy L. Baskin Michlin
February 5-6, 2015
Poem # 392