There was a brief moment that had me wondering if I should re-record today’s podcast episode. But the truth of motherhood, for me, is that it is a vulnerable place. It is the most ridiculous merging of tenderness and ferocity. It is the extraordinary realization that the gift of loving them is an enormous, overwhelming sensation. So, that rawness allowed itself to come out, and will remain.
With a nod to their incredible presence, this is for my daughters Luciya and Mirabel.
Listen. There is nothing I would rather do than be your mother. You are the single most aligned and precious way of being that there is. You expand the universe and make sense of my cosmos and I get to be in awe as I watch you become who you are meant to be. That I get to exist in the same world where you have made memories and tasted dill pickles and let your toes graze the earth a few times before you step from a swing that once tilted your heart to the boughs of the silver maple is such a wonder for me, and every day that I get to be feeling the air on my skin that I know has also tasted your skin, to know that the solidity of this same earth has had the pleasure of sensing your footfalls and scraped elbows to be so intimately acquainted with the crooked rims of fingernails and the way your necks swoop into shoulders that I am able to unburden to not recoil from your stinky morning breath and to have familiarized my strength enough to hoist and cradle you at every height over the weight of time to have sprouted intricate shields to ensconce you in safety and adoration and to know peace when you have peace is to be your mother.
It is profound.
May all beings everywhere be happy and free, and may the thoughts, words and actions of my own life contribute in some way to that happiness and freedom for all.
For My Children