Love Letters

Monday Love

Hey boo. Anxious to get someplace? When I’m not paying attention, that seems to be my default position. I caught myself in it just now. A little tension in my jaw. Determination? That’s what it feels like— and yet I couldn’t tell you precisely what that determination is pointing at. A habitual form of getting it right I suspect.

I’m at the beach for fucks sake. On a mini break— only one setting the “rules” here is me. And my conditioning. Glad I’m paying attention. My conditioning wants me to think I’m a bad mom. Really, I ask my conditioning? WTF is a bad mom even? And what would make me a good mom? My kids (who are now men) think the good mom / bad mom thing is kinda stupid. For one, if I’m responsible for everything (good & bad) it robs them of their autonomy, power, resilience, AKA freedom.

Also, good and bad are a trap. Beware. As Shakespeare said (via Hamlet) “There is nothing good or bad, but thinking makes it so.” How true!

I could go on and on about this. But I shall not.

Because I’m curious about you my love. What do you find when you get quiet and close your eyes?

Are you anxious to get someplace?

What’s your conditioning telling you right now— that simply is not so.

I love you. All of you.


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