It was a Thing of Beauty

Sitting in the chair facing my boss

across his huge desk,

awaiting my annual review,

the old, familiar panic rises:

heart pounding,

butterflies flitting from my stomach to my throat,

breath scarce.

This situation is not serious,

but my reaction is.

Ancient strategies for protection rising


triggered by sitting in front of a man of power,

waiting to be judged.

But this time,

I am a woman,

not a child.

This time

I have my own power and

strength at my disposal.

And this time,

I am able

to protect myself.


this time,

I send a cord into the earth

to draw up grounding strength.

This time,

I take deep breaths,

pulling calm into my lungs with the oxygen.

This time,

I call upon the Divine

to join and protect me.

This time,

I remember my accomplishments,

and triumphs and

wrap myself in the power

of my successes.


this time,

I meet this perceived danger




and empowered.

And now,

I look the man in the eye,

and tell the little girl

that she is safe.

And now,

I speak calmly,

dispelling his ridiculousness

with a firm voice.

All of that hard hard hard

work work work


paying off.

I leave his office

and his desk

flying high and free;

chains of past tethers

having finally

been broken.

It was truly

a thing of beauty.