Notes to an existence

When you existed and I didn't know it yet:

Great Falls, VA // December 2014

- your father and I danced in the kitchen to “Came out of a Lady” by Rubblebucket, a song I’m sure I will sing for you, a video I’m sure I will play for you. You came out of a lady and I want you to save me, that’s amazing…

- I watched a swarm of Puerto Rican puppeteers descend on Hemming Plaza and chase a horde of laughing children around an easy evening and I imagined what life would be like when I was on the other side of this seemingly impossibly tall fence dividing BEFORE and AFTER not knowing I was already climbing...

- I stood with others and protested the injustices of this country, because it matters, because black lives matter, because the people in our communities alongside you matter. Because there are mothers with skins of different pigments who feel their children in their bellies as I feel you and that cycle of wonder is no less important than yours and mine. I hope this is a conversation and set of concepts that we will hash out many times in the future until you see as clearly as I that when our friends speak, we listen.

- I tried yoga for the first time and discovered I really really like it. I like to test my body and feel it conquer new worlds and positions, I like having a group of my favorite women over weekly, I like that our house is a welcoming and inviting space for meditative moments.

- I spoke my poetry aloud before an audience, multiple times over, when I was oblivious to your existence and then knowledged. It is a goal of mine for you to see me participate creatively, not just in our home but also sharing with others. It is important that you know what community looks like, true community, not the social imitations from the television. I want you to know and to participate, too.

- I climbed sheer rock faces high above a roaring river. I trampled dewy fields of clover down somewhere in West Virginia, hands and feet covered in layers against pervasive cold. I called after your father nervously when he traveled too far, to where I couldn't go, and I watched him deftly make his way back through glossy leaves.