November 9, 2019

For E.’s eyes. For the way she looks at her children.

I give you the gift of trusting in kindness. I give you the gift of true listening. Of knowing that you need to do nothing. Of being a witness, the most difficult kind of martyr. The one who has realised they must stay still and allow things to unfold, and allow the other, their child, to express, to exorcise what they must in order to return to their better selves.
To be strong, not in defence, or protection of self or principles, but in maintaining a gentle and trusting presence. To be there in respect and trust. Not a victim. There is no self-victimising ego in these martyr’s gaze, no accusation or fear or pity or sadness. No guilt. No perception of the other as bad or mad, or imperfect. There is no need to protect them or the world from them.

I give you the gift of seeing yourself as a kind mirror. Hold yourself up so your children can see in your eyes that they will survive their pain, and their just rage, and their fear, and that you know them, and trust, and respect them, wholy, truthfully, even at their worst.

I give you the gift of trusting your children, and with this the gift of trusting the world, again.


*Here are the strongest and most mindful uses of my writing, my work to weave better realities through text, towards ever-expanding love and family.