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Marcela: Unfiltered

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Call me Chamomile…

22 Wednesday Jun 2016

Tags

Life, Personal Power, Poetry, Self

Scotch Broom

invasive, unrelenting bully,

has nothing

on Chamomile’s quiet crusade

to propagate and grow,

where no Broom

has dared vomit,

its noxious seed.

Call me Chamomile,

growing, unapologetic

and oh so inconveniently,

right in the middle of the damn road!

~Marcela: Unapologetically inconveniencing, you?

June 22, 2016

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Posted by ~MyLa | Filed under Poetry, Unfettered

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Disheveled…

19 Sunday Jun 2016

Tags

Poetry, Self, Truth

Disheveled…

True to form,

unhinged, and

in(complete)

and utter disarray,

she turns inwardly

to scream,

at the demons.

~Myla: true to form…

June 19, 2016

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Posted by ~MyLa | Filed under Poetry

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Cancerian Side-Step

10 Friday Jun 2016

Tags

Love, Poetry

Crab-Walker

A cancerian side-step
on the mountain like Otep
Shamaya, that is…
infernal screaming
salt-rivers streaming
crevasses and gorges
eye’s-blood forges
lava lines on a face
botox not to erase
triumphant tall tales
as well the fails
of proportions epic, that is…
stories rife
furious life
noisy this silence
obscuring the violence
mind gone wild
untamed adult-child
mutters insanities
trapped in banalities
of one’s own choosing, that is…
inaudible plea
no chutzpah to flee
this bird-cage un-gilded
wings flapping bewildered
red smear on a white page
reading lines on a stage
one so prudently set
best not forget
designer and choreograph
of this story’s epitaph
she/herself and yours truly
ever most duly
contrary in diction
this life of non-fiction, mine, that is…
dance of cancerian side-steps
while ludicrous forceps
tear out the part
once resembled a heart
and that bitch called love
bleeds on the floor
resembles the whore
that I am…
fuck
me, no,
you.
~Marcela: unapologetically yours.
June 10, 2016

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Posted by ~MyLa | Filed under Poetry, The 'L' Word, Unfettered

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If I stopped believing in Love…

21 Saturday May 2016

Tags

Love, Poetry

If I stopped believing in Love

because my heart has been wounded

I would stop believing in everything I do

and if I stopped believing in everything I do

I would stop doing everything I do

and if I stopped doing everything I do

I would cease to breathe

because love is the basis of all human connection

and human connection is the basis of love

and love is the basis of everything that I do

and must be the air that I breathe

or I will suffocate on hate

I am not perfect at it

yet.

~Marcela: (im)perfectly Unfiltered.

May 21, 2016

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Posted by ~MyLa | Filed under Poetry, The 'L' Word

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My Valiant Purple Heart

15 Tuesday Mar 2016

Tags

Courage, Fear, Humanity, Love

PurpleHeart

 

 

 

 

 

I know you not, love
For you come to me disguised

I get you not, love
For you speak to me in forked tongues

I hear you not, love
For you whisper to me screaming

I see you not, love
For you obscure my vision

I taste you not, love
For your sapor is but acrid

I smell you not, love
For your scent is cheap perfume

I feel you not, love
For your touch is numbing absence

I fear you not, love
For I have a valiant, purple heart.

~Marcela: undone
March 15, 2016

Image credit: Vinoth Chandar

Retrieved from:http://www.bbc.com/earth/story/20160212-the-unexpected-origin-of-love

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Posted by ~MyLa | Filed under Poetry, The 'L' Word

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Ashley Madison: Why did it become so popular to cheat?

08 Friday Jan 2016

Tags

Ashley Madison, Cheating, Fear, Life, Love, Monogamy, Relationships, Secrets & Lies, Truth

I recently signed on as a blogger for a fundraising effort for the YWCA, The Rose Project. The  myriad issues facing women young and old, are addressed here, and very near and dear to my heart, in more ways than I can articulate. This is the first post of many I have in the works in support of this effort. Please check out the site, contribute with your hard-earned cash as you can, and enjoy some really good reading, written by some really smart folks.

AshleyMadisonIn the course of my informal social research on Ashley Madison (AM), I formulated the following thoughts: Monogamy is a personal choice, morality is pliable at best, and utterly subjective at worst, so these two concepts in and of themselves offer little in the way of answers to the question at hand. I have turned this question over in my mind to the point of distraction, and put it forward to my various networks. There is little consensus and so many opinions that I could have written a book, but I was able to pick up on several themes.

It seems to me, and apparently to others, that when we choose to be in a committed, monogamous, relationship, whether dating, common-law, or religiously and legally sanctioned by marriage, we have entered an agreement with our partner, to be, duh, monogamous.

The folks I communicated with agreed that the trademarked AM tagline is very telling and I keep coming back to it, and its underlying messages: “Life is short. Have an affair.” I believe that at least part of what is so attractive to people about AM and similar sites, is that at the core, we have become a culture of entitlement. One in which everything has become a matter of fun, adventure, personal rights and deservingness, and the pervasive attitude that everything, including humans, is replaceable. If we’re not getting what we want from what and whom we have in our lives, we can get a new one, a better one, a different one, and it’s OK, AM says so! Life is short after all; we should have our cake and eat it too! Our wants have become perceived as needs, and perhaps, a growing laziness to do any real personal work, driven by unrealistic expectations of love and good relationships, are also at play. In Why Women Cheat: A Married Man goes Undercover on Ashley Madison, Charles J. Orlando discovers that many of the women want more (attention) than they have in their committed relationships, but are unwilling to leave their partner for any number of seemingly valid reasons; including standards of living provided by a spouse, staying for the kids, staying for social standing, and the like. It feels like a copout to me. My professional life informs me that well-adjusted, separated/divorced adults can provide great co-parenting, and come to good decisions about money, without living, and modeling, a lie.

The other question I keep coming back to? Why would I commit, lead my partner to believe that I want a monogamous relationship, when I don’t? What happened to just being straight up? Even if I have simply changed my mind about what kind of relationship I want? What has happened to personal integrity? I am reminded of the simple, but oh-so-difficult-to-live-by Four Agreements by Miguel Ruiz, specifically, Agreement One: Be Impeccable With Your Word. Translation: be honest; don’t lie, don’t deceive, if you have agreed to be in a monogamous relationship, don’t cheat; you have given your word.

The Truth About Love... When I polled my friends and colleagues about their experiences with cheating, most admitted to having done it, and for the record, I have too. We all had various reasons and justifications, but the common threads in this piece of my social research are that we subscribe to monogamy, none of us felt/feel good about having done it, and all of us had intense guilt shame about it. Many of these folks also thought that any culturally accurate answer to the question of why it has become so popular to cheat, needed to examine how our core values in relation to throw-away mentality, has changed over time and in the age of consumerism, (perceived but unattainable) perfection, better, bigger, more.

Stuart D., the one public responder on my personal Facebook page, to a request for perspectives on why AM has become so popular, resonated strongly with my own thoughts about consumerism and the commodification and quantification of everything in our culture. He offered what is for me, a stunning insight into how sites like AM are contributing to the consume/commodify everything mindset, and how that is related to our ability to perpetrate violence: “Once we accept that people can be used and tossed aside violence is a very short step away if we are unhappy or unfulfilled in any way.”

I would add to that the scintillation of an adventure in a life fraught with responsibilities and meaninglessness, the (false) promise of complete anonymity (read: secrecy) because it’s the Internet, the pretense of no harm no foul, and the road to all willing infidels is paved in gleaming gold. In some ways, it is the Eldorado to feed the core of human greed; it offers the appearance of something (extra), and risking nothing. It has been my experience in life and love, that the greatest risk (and reward) of all is the vulnerability created with complete honesty and transparency in relationships. And maybe, just maybe, that is another of the possible answers to the question; Why it has it become so popular… to cheat? Perhaps it is because sites like AM provide the seeming opportunity of getting something, without risking anything, but most especially, not our oh-so-vulnerable hearts, and the potential of someone seeing our truest self.

And then there is the entire issue of AM and similar sites being an ‘online’ thing, and the disturbing trend of psychological disconnect that happens for folks in online interactions, and falsely feed ideas that these interactions are not as bad as engaging in person, even when ultimately, the encounters often become real time and real life, real cheating.

I invite you to consider the quote about Love in the image attached to these thoughts and share your perspectives on it, as well as the following questions:

Do you think that cheating is so popular through an online venue because folks feel as though because it was instigated online, it isn’t as bad?

Do you know anyone who has used sites like AM and what was their experience?

What are your thoughts on making an informed and thought out decision to use a site like AM, after having committed to a monogamous relationship?

What do you think about current cultural norms of replacing what is, or feels broken, as opposed to working on or fixing it?

~Marcela.

Images/Quotes:

https://www.ashleymadison.com

Love is something Different – Melanie J. Williams

 

 

 

 

 

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Posted by ~MyLa | Filed under Commentaries: On what matters to me

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Pyre (o’maniac)

02 Saturday Jan 2016

Tags

Fear, Life, Love, Poetry

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Derailed, discombobulated
hamster wheel for a brain,
drives my treasonous
heart
that run-amok freight train.

Incessant, the thoughts
constant and circular
brain matter
detonates
fuse lit by vernacular.

Disillusioned, with Life
and other L words,
I question
reality
is flying high for the birds?

Wakeful, I fret
over this, about that,
rue and
regret
engaging with gnats.

Diminished, extinguished?
the yearnings and flames,
all stealth and sneak
fear
stakes a new claim.

Vehement, (m)utterings
implore a but smouldering fire,
(re)torch that heart
woman
get back up on your pyre!

~MyLa: unfettered and spinning, yarns…
(01, 2016)

… t’was a most fitful night… brain ran in circles, how fitting the photo I snapped accidentally on my beloved trail yesterday… and as I coined another fretful ditty, this thought slapped me upside the head: the point is, nothing in my life, ever, has occurred in any sort of logical order, but particularly not in any sort of expected, culturally appropriate, or accepted order or manner. So how could I possibly write about any of it that way? And KaPow, with a random meme about the next 365 days, and a most productive night of wakefulness, the Year of Fly, and the next great thing, is born in the never ending purgastory, that is my 24-7 brain. Stick around and help me feed this baby, give this dragon, (unicorn?) wings. Or don’t. The next level of Unfiltered is coming, either way.

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Posted by ~MyLa | Filed under Poetry, Unfettered

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Jump; into this dis-ordered life!

24 Saturday Oct 2015

Tags

Fear, Life, Love, Mental Health, Poetry, Suicide

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

This love and life are schizophrenic
confusing and bizarre
a psychotic freight train run-a-mok
searching for its freight train cars

This love and life are melancholia
contradictory depths and shallows
understated hyperbole
its verdant fields all fallow

This love and life are so neurotic
too bad – too good – too much – too small
plod and slog along that edge
‘til through the cracks we fall

This love and life are paranoid
para-normal even
monsters lurk ’round every corner
something to believe in

This love and life are anxious
fear this – fear that – fear self
hide that heart way up on high
up on the highest shelf

This love and life are O C D
chaos seeks control
prim and perfect to appear
lest the death knell tolls

This love and life are risky
unsafe and oh-so-perilous
jump to me – come off that ledge
else each breath be but vicarious

~Marcela; unfinished
For my work kid Einstein, with so much gratitude that we get to keep flying in the Tardis together, and all the others who have walked the edge, stood on the ledge, and for those who jumped and didn’t have us to catch them, in time.
October 24, 2015

This past week the Universe conspired to connect so many experiences and events in the various worlds I occupy; with a semi-colon. In the wee hours of another fitful and anxious night I struggled to turn off the demons; the ones I bring home from work more often than not. Those of the work-folks I care for so deeply, and my own. At four a.m. it was clear that the demons were not to be tamed, so I chose to get up and write them out in the form of this ditty. Later that morning I came upon the art and heart of one John Finn and found another kindred spirit via my big brother Tom. That work day consisted of 9 relatively unexpected hours in a hospital with the 12-year-old work kid I will call Einstein. The demons were so loud, so overwhelming, that this brilliant and beautiful child wanted to die. I need to get one, a semi-colon tattoo; for Einstein, for me, for you, for all the work-kids, for their parents, for so many people I have known and loved, for Marilyn, for Robin Williams, for Dorothy Parker and for Sylvia Plath, just some of the people who move me so deeply, long after their time here ran out. Get one too? Come on, I double-dog-dare you!

Image: “Pause” Courtesy of the Über-talented John Finn.

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Posted by ~MyLa | Filed under In the Service of Other Humans, Poetry

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Political Fruit Salad for Breakfast in my Canadian World…

20 Tuesday Oct 2015

Tags

Canadian Politics, Focus on the Good Shit, Justin Trudeau, Nit-Picking

20151020_123328[1]I was set to comment about normally reserving this venue for my personal poetry and other less political offerings, but clearly I have just met some of my writing if I think it isn’t political in one way or another. I have believed for a long time now that the Personal is indeed Political, and politics in one way or another are inherent to everything I do and write about.

This bit here, is literal in the political sense, and quite the tippy-top of the Iceberg in terms of the many thoughts I have about the political topic du jour here in Canada. I have however, come across enough nit-picking this fine day, to warrant just a little bit of an as yet under-caffeinated opinion.

We made huge strides in so many ways last night! So while all of the nit-pickers are busy looking for issues to nit-pick apart, I will focus on the good shit:
-Voter turnouts were the highest in decades (and not all of the numbers are in yet, particularly those of folks who registered on voting day, that queue here in Duncan was peopled well.
-Advance polls were the highest, 71% more folks voted in advance polling than in 2011 SEVENTY-ONE Percent!
-More Indigenous voters than ever before! Many communities actually ran out of ballots
-70,000 students voted in advance polls alone, and we know that historically student turnout has been poor…
-32 of 42 possible ‘no to Enbridge’ Candidates voted in, 7 pro Enbridge candidates defeated
-Trudeau actually has a lot of very smart plans for this country in terms of families and other social policy. This is huge in my world, HUGE!
-Harpo, and by direct extension many of his corrupt cronies are OUT for fuck’s sake! No outcome could be better than that fact alone!

We have STOPPED Harper!The hardest part for J.T. is yet to come, and it is up to us to avoid jumping on the finger-pointing bandwagon when things don’t go exactly our way, because really, put yourself in his (or Obama’s for that matter) shoes, just for a minute, and think about what it might feel like to walk into and through the quagmire he just quite willingly and with such great effort and passion, inherited! We have as much to do with it as Harpo did, because we closed our eyes for 10 years and pretended he wasn’t there. If young J.T. starts going sideways it is up US to hold him accountable, whether we voted for him or not.

For the record: Green is my party, I voted orange, and red won. I feel as though we all did. And like I’ve eaten fruit salad, always a healthier choice than picked nits.
Peace,

~Marcela: well nourished.

Sources:

CBC News

Global News

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Posted by ~MyLa | Filed under Commentaries: On what matters to me

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Of Virgins and snow

30 Wednesday Sep 2015

Tags

Fear, Love, Poetry

Ice Tears - Norway

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

T’was a night before morning
and all through this life
the nightmare before daytime
gifts no end of strife

Ghosts of then ghouls of now
haunt an overwrought soul
a confusing cacophony
words falling, pits of black coal

Tides and torrents
tumble in and gush out
run down cheeks in hot streams
throat swallows shut

Blue eyes query wildly
what the fuck goes on here?
silenced voice screaming
your fears, we live near!

Embrace them, relinquish
hold on tight but let go
you are the virgin
they drove into that snow.

~Myla: Melting.

September 30, 2015

Image

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Posted by ~MyLa | Filed under Poetry

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Contradictions… III

21 Monday Sep 2015

Tags

Fear, Life, Love, Poetry, Power, Self

female-fragment-1.PaigeBradley

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Contradictions… III

I am…
…loosely cemented… no, inured and secured… of far sighted vision… sight lines fully obscured… entire… no partial… I cower… no rise… small silly child… no, crone oh-so -wise… zig zag and waver… no, I walk a strong gait… run to a finish line… no (im)patiently wait… emptiness, hollow… fill my bottomless soul… stubborn… no willing… fragmented… no whole… pieces of puzzles falling down to a floor… fall apart… no together… build a wall… no, a door… treasure inside… open it, open it… no, slam it shut… should have known better… Pandora! You slut.

~Myla: unknowingly certain.
September 21, 2015

Image: Female Fragment, with masses of love and gratitude for the art of Paige Bradley

 

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Posted by ~MyLa | Filed under Poetry, The 'L' Word, Unfettered

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Image

Love lies bleeding…

07 Friday Aug 2015

Tags

Friendship, Life, Love, Poetry, Relationships, Truth

SingleAgain-AngelinaWronaDearest:
I implore thee;
Dismiss not
my reality,
with Disdainfully Derisive missiles
to Dispute and Discount,
that which Displeases Your sensibilities.
For you will;
Disturb and Decrease,
(my) trust
and in the end;
(y)our
L</3ve,
lies bleeding,
D e a d.
On the floor.

~Marcela: deflatedly in love, and fully Unfiltered.

Image; with thanks: https://www.angelinawrona.ca 

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Posted by ~MyLa | Filed under Poetry, The 'L' Word, Unfettered

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Image

Forty-four…

01 Wednesday Jul 2015

Tags

Life, Love, Personal Power, Truth

CzechChick-HardCore

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

A queen licks her wound
intensely attuned
to the fury and wrath
of one psychopath
or…
another.

Heart reaches again
wounded not slain
core splits asunder
pillage and plunder
truth…
hers.

Intuition screams loudly
alarm bells warn soundly
bent but not broken
words left unspoken
deafening…
silence.

No over just through
sight-lines slightly askew
vision is hazy
dense fog of crazy
welcome…
back.

Times Forty-four
her tally and score
of moves close and more distant
this ache is persistent
ground-less…
again?

Footing precarious
from deeds so nefarious
calculated to maim
not knowing this dame
breathes…
fire.

Bohemian lore
A Czech-chick hard-core
stretches her wings
flies higher on swings
than even…
dragons.

No guts no glory
this is the story
of a girl with she-ballz
a glued porcelain doll
making pigs…
fly.

Unabashedly human, and fully unfettered:

~Myla.

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Posted by ~MyLa | Filed under Poetry

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Image

Walking With Love For Chantale on Sunday!

05 Friday Jun 2015

Tags

Friendship, Humanity, Life, Love, Truth, Unconditional Positive Regard

 

20150429_204648This is so important to me, please read to the end and stay with me, so that you may understand why it is important to me, and why I need your help.

-I believe that we can change the world, one action at a time
-I believe that part of that is supporting one person, family, group, at a time
-I believe that providing that support directly, without conditions, to be utilized as the person(s) receiving it see fit, is crucial to anyone’s success in getting through a difficult time, whatever that is for them.

Chantale is this Sunday’s (June 7th 2015) walk/donations recipient. Her mission is to heal her body from Squamous Carcinoma and she has pursued hollistic and most recently chemo and radiation therapies. You can follow her journey here: Chantale’s Journey

She received little to no support from any number of systems in our world, the very systems designed to help, but fraught with loopholes, conditions, and vast gaps and crevices that folks in the midst of a fight for their very life and breath often cannot navigate, by nature of the very challenge that brought them to these systems. I am not looking to cure Chantale, only she, her body, mind and bottomless heart and spirit, along with the therapies she chooses can do that. I am looking to provide her some basics of life quality and comfort (not having to worry about rent/food/rides to the hospital…), while she navigates this multi-barriered road in an effort to help herself.

My son Thomas & I can walk 50K on Sunday (we’ve done it before… let’s hope we do it again), my mama Marcella and the beautiful (hu)man Dieter can bring us refreshments and cheer us on when it gets hard, but our financial resources are not bottomless, so it has always been my belief, that many of us giving a bit, more often, is more effective in the long term, than a few of us giving more less often.

I have never met Chantale, but I have grown to love her fiercely, for so many reasons, but primarily, because she fought for her right to decide what was best for her in the face of severe opposition and betrayal by previously noted systems, and because when faced with few alternatives, she still hasn’t given up, just broadened her perspective about said alternatives and come at it from a place we could all do well to emulate; a place of love for self, and acceptance of what is, as opposed to what should be.

So here is my request to all of you: Send $20, or $10 if that is all you can do, it’s four, or two, fancy coffees, one meal you pack to go instead of eating out. It might not make that huge a dent in your life right now, but I know it will in Chantale’s, particularly as she now begins the upward climb of healing from the therapies she has undergone for the last several weeks. Please help us help.

History and other links regarding this current and past actions are here:
http://supervisedaccess.shawwebspace.ca/…/community_service/

FB Page is here:Walking With Love For You

TO DONATE:

Internet Banking E-transfers to: walkingwithloveforyou@gmail.com (please remember to send a security question/answer)

Cash and/or bottle returns: I’ll pick it from you where/when ever is convenient

Cheques payable to M. Mrnka, c/o: s.a.f.e – #204, 107 Evans Street, Duncan BC, V9L 1P5

Info: walkingwithloveforyou@gmail.com

Remember last year?

20140928_18284520140928_182803Unabashedly and sans filters begging for your money for Chantale: Marcela.

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Posted by ~MyLa | Filed under In the Service of Other Humans

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Image

Through the Eye of the Storm(s); Open Letter to My Child: March 22, 2015

23 Monday Mar 2015

Tags

Children, Family, Honesty, Love, Relationships, Self

Sunny'sArm

Eye of a storm… lest we forget the lessons…

Dearest Sunny:

here we are again, March 22nd; the 24th March 22nd that I have the privilege of sharing with you; it is the absolute honour of all honours to be your parent. My Sunny-Boy-ManChild-BabyCakes, and all the other crazy names I have attached to your beautiful spirit over the years, you know, the ones you initially balk at, but always throw the good-son towel in on, because you know, mama gonna be mama and call you things other than the names so carefully and lovingly chosen for you before we ever met face to face.

I will spare us the regurgitation of all the reasons I love you so fiercely, we can revisit them here in our old(er) age, in the event that we forget, but they are indelibly etched into the very core of my being either way, so when the world blows up (ala Alex Jones ;) ) and we have lost all e-records and interwebs postings proclaiming my mama love for you, we will know anyway.

This March 22nd begs a different message from me to you. It begs a message of thanks and deeply profound gratitude, and with any luck, some-mama wisdom that one day, you will see fit to use, the way that I was able to use the uncondionality you once again showed me, through some of the toughest shit in a while, over this past year.

Thomas:

Thank you for standing your ground with mama in what in the grand scheme of things was a relatively benign little online exchange, around some political ideas on anti v. pro-activism. The discussion we had off-line about the process of it, for both of us, is what real love, trust, and this thing called relationship, are made of.

Thank you for standing your ground and letting me know in no uncertain terms that you wanted the Europe trip to happen no matter what, but that you would not be happy doing it without the mama. It was our trip for as long as we can both remember, for so many more reasons than I can articulate here, and it matters not, for we both know.

Thank you for forcing mama’s hand, in the kindest, gentlest, but completely Thomas-honest way, and helping me remember what is actually important in the world, reminding me what the last five years of struggle and re-building of Marcela, and by natural extension, how I do ‘parent of Thomas,’ has been all about.

Thank you for seeing beyond the surface of everything that had to do with everything about our going home(s), re-meeting your dad, your brothers, your nieces, your nephew, your cousins, your aunts and uncles, all of them, it.

Thank you for understanding my pain through it, thank you for not trying to fix what was never yours, thank you for holding my hand through all of it, in the midst of your own process through it. Thank you for having your mama’s back, unflinchingly as ever, no matter what.

Thank you for making it one of the most singularly spectacular events in my well-used life, other than the day of your actual birth, 24 years ago today.
Thank you for last summer after we got back. For the ear through the phone line during so many tearful drives to and from Nanaimo, up and down that LaMaHat, for the drive-by huggings at PV and the softness in your voice when you could read my broken heart all over me; the one threatening to obliterate everything I knew to be true about me, again.

Thank you for holding my well-lit heart together with the unconditional glue of who you are, and for seeing it, me, as the fallible human-parent I am, and your loyalty to our relationship not despite that, but because of it.

Thank you for expressing your disdain for men(?) behaving badly in both my personal and professional worlds, and thank you for behaving well despite your disdain and anger toward those less chivalrous, less kind.

Thank you for your response to that most unexpected of phone calls this afternoon from your dad, only one of us responded with the grace and wisdom of the Universe itself; clearly, age is no guarantee of these things, and thank you for understanding, once again, my misguided irritation by parts of said phone call. It was a beautiful thing, and that, is all you saw. I take another page from your book.

Thank you for all of the trust you continue to place in me with the really great, and really tough life shit, and thank you for showing me, over and over again, the many variations on any given theme. For an open-minded mama, my ever well-heeled feet can dig in, hard, at times.

Thank you for simple happiness at the recent changes in my life, completely and utterly bereft of chagrin at the speed in which things are changing. Thank you for understanding that risk is necessary.

Thank you for starting to put into action your next great adventure, and thank you, more than you will ever know, for saying you would come back for next April 25th. Thank you for allowing me to mama-guide you, ok, I ordered you, not to.

Thank you for using the lessons of my and your own well-used life, to propel you forward, ever forward, and for teaching me back, my own preach about teaching children How to think, not what to think.

The beautifully important and life(choice)-scarred words that mean so much to you they are permanently etched onto your forearm often bear true Sunny, ‘Storm is prerequisite for mental gain,’ but just as we are the creators of our own happiness, the same is true for the storms, if only by virtue of the reactions, responses, associations, patterns, meanings, we Choose to attach to any of it; the good, the bad, the ugly, the indifferent, the sublime, and the ridiculous.

That there; be mama’s current learning curve BabyCakes, BabyCzech, and Number One Marsupial-Child! It is my most fervent desire for you, that you don’t require almost 54 years of life to get there, and if you do, I have all the faith in the world, that you will traverse the trails, highways, byways and ditches with the same wild abandon and spirit of risk, that you have watched your mama grow into, and continue to understand, that the Only failure, Ever, is not trying at all.

Our Dorothy used to say, ‘pain and suffering are inevitable in this world, continuing misery, is purely optional.’ Curmudgeonly beauty that she often was, she was right.

I love you with the same ferocity and wild that I often go at anything with, only infinitely deeper.

Always,
YourMama: Unfiltered.

Tattoo on Sunny’s Arm by Sam, Killer Bees Tattoos – Melbourne, Australia

‘Storm is prerequisite to mental gain’ from ‘Liquid Sovereignty’ by Eydea & Abilities

 

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Posted by ~MyLa | Filed under Life Lessons & Stories

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