grateful for my mama. that cord can be cut, but not broken! the endless words & stories that made me roll my eyes (in a quick blink or opening wide of eyes, like my Journee does me) and think in my mind of plugging my ears deep with my middle fingers (bcuz i betta not really do it), i now beg for!
tonight my mother reminded me of the strong line of women i'm from. many who had to raise a family without a man, some with little money. it's easy to forget that amidst all the myriad of shades of femininity, worn like a best coat (even a modest one). the strong praise and deep love of men. they didn't wait or complain more than quick kitchen check in. something had to be done, they just did it. they still do it. unapologetically.  no special war cry. not even many tears. these women are never as simple, delicate, fabulous, difficult as they seem. there's a side A and B to the glorious legacy. so many lived/live on their terms boldly or quietly (those are the real warriors of our tribe). i look again at the women in my family,  the stories, the nerve of such and such...i am this way on purpose. all of it. all of me.
as much as someone is telling you what not to do, concerned what you'll do, telling you what you should do...they secretly hope you get away with whatever was pressing you so bad...and will applaud and pass on the story if you do! the closer i get to my spirit, the more i sit still, the extra care in which i listen, in this now moment: the more i own my own paradox. one day, my descendants will tell my stories and laugh and shake their heads and wonder what i was really like! please, many of my maternal line of ancestors would kill to have my challenges, and face them with absolute joy...and now, SO AM I. i am so grateful!


1/23/15