Aug 01 2025
Lynn Ungar – The Way It Is
The Way It Is
by Lynn Ungar
One morning you might wake up
to realize that the knot in your stomach
had loosened itself and slipped away,
and that the pit of unfilled longing in your heart
had gradually, and without your really noticing,
been filled in — patched like a pothole, not quite
the same as it was, but good enough.
And in that moment it might occur to you
that your life, though not the way
you planned it, and maybe not even entirely
the way you wanted it, is nonetheless —
persistently, abundantly, miraculously —
exactly what it is.
— from Poetry of Presence: An Anthology of Mindfulness Poems, Edited by Phyllis Cole-Dai / Edited by Ruby R. Wilson
/ Image by Dmitry Ganin /
I love this poem. It speaks from a place of gentle awareness of one’s self and one’s life.
One morning you might wake up
to realize that the knot in your stomach
had loosened itself and slipped away…
I think there is a tendency toward self dissatisfaction, something feels wrong, incomplete, imperfect. This is especially true for those of us who see ourselves on a spiritual journey. Perhaps we even use that feeling as motivation on our spiritual journey. It can be needed fuel.
But the years teach us that that feeling becomes a trap, a form of self-cruelty. Our lives can feel like a series of disappointments. Worse, we see ourselves as failures. And no amount of religious or spiritual practice seems to fix that feeling.
The thing is, there is no perfect “fix” for the feeling. Yes, the way we live in the world, the way we cultivate our inner awareness, these help, but they don’t fully untangle that Gordion knot. You know what does? Restful, non-reactive, non-judgmental self-awareness. Pausing from all our efforts and just noticing who we are, what we are, what our lives are.
When we do that, a surprising thing happens: We begin to see an underlying wholeness, even when there is no obvious reason for it to be there.
And in that moment it might occur to you
that your life, though not the way
you planned it, and maybe not even entirely
the way you wanted it, is nonetheless —
persistently, abundantly, miraculously —
exactly what it is.
All the anxieties and harsh judgments we have held in our bodies just somehow dissipate. All the mental projections of what we wanted but didn’t get or what we got but didn’t want, drop like a shadow screen before our eyes and we see things simply as they are. It may not fit the grand heroic story we have held in the mind for so long, but what is actually there is telling its own story, a story of fullness.
Let’s pay attention to that story. Let it bring healing.
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I know there are terrible tragedies unfolding in the world right now. Find some quiet moments — and radiate love into the world. Don’t try to mentally solve the world’s problems in that moment. Don’t react or tighten up in anger. Just radiate love.
Don’t even “radiate” love, since that might imply that you are pushing love out from some limited personal reservoir. The love is there, already, and in abundance. Allow it through. Step aside in your quiet moments and let the love flood through you into the the parched world. See what magic it can accomplish.
Sending love to you all!
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| Bread and Other Miracles | Poetry of Presence: An Anthology of Mindfulness Poems | Blessing the Bread: Meditations | ||
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Lynn Ungar
US (Contemporary) |
Lynn Ungar’s first book of poetry, Blessing the Bread, earned her fans around the world. In her professional life she serves as a minister for the Church of the Larger Fellowship, an online congregation for Unitarian Universalists and other religious liberals. In her free time she trains dogs for competition in obedience, agility and canine musical freestyle (dancing with dogs). She is also an avid singer and contra dancer. Lynn lives on the east side of the San Francisco Bay with her wife, teenaged daughter, two dogs and a cat.
~ from lynnungar.com
Thanks for sharing this poem Ivan.
Gently setting aside feelings of dissatisfaction and the stories mind keeps trying to tell needs practicing and practicing I find.
At a moment of awareness, I deliberately be still, resting in the Now. Resting in Presence, in Silence, in Darkness, in not-knowing, in not needing-to-know. Opening the heart. Asking mind to please be quiet. Offering this expressed thought to mind, asking it to be still, and not start creating stories.
I usually experience nothing doing this, resting my ego in Silent Silence. Hoping that love, Love, will flow both ways, that every encounter with others may bring happiness and peace to all of us.
Whether or how this happens is rarely if ever revealed. Nor is it obvious something has happened.
When Darkness and Silence are all that I’m aware of, that’s OK. When I don’t know what’s going on, I hope that something good happens between us. Just as it has in your sharing this poem, in Lynn sharing her poem with us.
Thank you. Thanks to her. A deep thankful bow to the Earth community.
With love,
Mark
Thank you Ivan for this beautiful poem by Lynn Unger, so appropriate for our times
now. And thank you Mark for your meaningful response.
I really appreciated Rilke’s poem, but could not respond. Going through maybe six
weeks of a difficult time, have come to realize silence and patience is healing.
And I have heard ‘If we would really get all we wanted, we would be in big trouble!’
(smile).