Fifty

 In a couple of hours, it will be 50 years since I entered this world. I’ve never asked my mum whether I kicked and screamed, or philosophically pondered my destiny.

If anyone had told me then what I would need to live through, I might have pulled the plug. 

But here I am, alive, well, happy, fulfilled. 

A little broken, but glued together over and over again. Grateful and absolutely convinced that this life is for growth and advancement.  And I have absolutely no regrets.

The hurdles and the blocks that have been put in my way are simply ways to get me to jump, to spring me into action, to prompt me to use my imagination and creativity to create palpable change. 

I am loved, I love plentifully and I have hope,  ongoing dreams, and life to live everyday. 

I am a lucky woman. I have boundless energy for play and learning, and nurturing. I am a friend, a daughter, a sister and a mum. I am so happy. 

I am grateful for my body, my scars, my flabby belly that has resulted from birthing the humans I will leave behind when my time is done. I love my funny brain that keeps me entertained when I’m meant to be asleep. I love my legs that take me places, and my arms that hug tight. I love my skin that was battered by south american ozoneless sun. I love my mind, and even my guts. 

I am proud to say that even if I died tomorrow, I would choose to die having made all the same mistakes I have made. I would not change anything to make it easier, or calmer or less stressful.

For I am who I am without cheating or manipulating, without taking the easiest roads.

Even in my darkest hours, I have vowed to keep to my principles and have kept to my codes. And that is all that I am. 

And I look forward to further growth. I am so glad I didn’t cause my end, for I would have missed out on all of this. I thank all of my loved ones, human and fur, feather and wood.

 I am alive, what a way to be! I am the softest clay, and the hardest metal. 

I wish myself loads of love, imagination and creativity, time, and wisdom. I wish myself love and happiness, and the responsibility to make it happen and the strength to pass it on. I wish myself the best life, for it is always worth it. 

I promise to respect me to earn others' respect. I will care for myself the way I care for others, and compassionately parent myself to the best of my ability. 

I will not die til I am truly done. I will not be defeated by difficulty and I will always be true to myself. 

May the next 50 be fruitful, painful, alive, exciting and always worth it.

Perceived

 This pregnancy is long. It is ongoing and continuing in order to spare me its end.

For its end would signal an end I am ill prepared to endure.

The end of me. The end of all that is dear and delicate and valuable to my worth.

Not all those eyes that stare and judge and weigh my worth in success and male succession. Royalty and jewellery, property and gain. For this is meaning I do not aspire to.

I am forever gestating this immense ideal. This idea and this concept that will not escape, for as long as I hold it and warm it.

I was told it was vain, and narrow, and uninspired. Disrespected by centuries.

And yet my breasts swell at the anticipation of more. Milk overflows to feed the hungry. The tides of the moon possess me even now.

For I am fire and water and earth and air. I grow roots and become entangled in the ancient ruins.

My intact nature revealed, my essence established and clear.

This is who I am and who I want to remain.

I will forever cherish the swell that graduates me to the ages.

I will stand up for the pride of my body and the scars of my sacrifice. For it is worthy. It is all that I am and all that I ever wish to be.

A tree, a rock, a mountain.

A power not to be challenged. Only the bravest souls would dare defy my strength of purpose when it comes to my own.

I am wood, but fossil.

I am moon and earth.

I am soil and flower.

I am seed and rain.

I remain in the cycles that take me back to where I belong.

I return to the earth and I revel in its graceful embrace.

For I am free and wild, and old, and new.

I am true. Above all, true.

I am brave and calm, and loud and afraid.

But I am this. I will always be this.

This pregnancy must end.

This journey is finite.

And I end in Rhosgobel, deep within the bounds of mystery. I will build my own, and authentically disappear.