Once you get to a certain point in your life, people start trying to tell you that magic isn’t real. These people are trying to quell your sense of wonder at the majesty of the world, and you mustn’t let them. Because magic happens all the time. Whenever you see something utterly beautiful in nature, and you take the time to notice it, it’s magic. When you recognize the love you have to give and the love you receive, it’s magic. Magic is in the look and touch and nearness of someone who matters to you. It’s magic even when something sad or terrible happens, because there is magic in the very fact that you care, and that you’re still there. Magic happens when you stand up for what matters. Magic happens when you don’t let anything ever beat you, no matter what. Magic happens when you are part of the force of love. It’s magic, no matter how dim the hope, how slim the chances, how great the cost. Magic happens every time you give, every time you love, and every time that you are strong. The magic only stops when you let it. The magic is in you and it is all around you. Because the magic is you.
Our strongest human need is not to fall in love but to be genuinely loved by someone else, to know a love that grows out of reason and choice, not instinct. We need to be loved by someone who chooses to love us and who sees in us something worth loving. But this kind of love requires dedication and discipline because it is the decision to spend energy and effort to benefit another person, knowing that if their life is enriched by our efforts, we too will find satisfaction, the satisfaction not only of being loved but of loving.
I thought breastfeeding would be hard and weird or that I would be too self-conscious and embarrassed to really do it. I thought I would give it a go, find it annoying and difficult, say fuck this and head straight to feeding my baby formula. I didn’t expect to actually enjoy breastfeeding or to discover that I’d be good at it. Also Asha is good at latching so we began breastfeeding successfully together unusually fast. Everyone was surprised and impressed by our teamwork, I am breastfeeding all the time and it touches my heart to see how much good it’s doing Asha, how healthy and happy it makes her, how much she’s stoked. I rarely put on make up, I barely comb my hair, I saunter around the house topless in my underwear ready for the next breastfeeding session. I’ve become this focused feral woman intent on feeding my child continuously and naturally, I find it incomparably satisfying. The skin to skin contact during each breastfeeding session is incredibly rejuvenating and beautiful, there’s no nicer or better feeling, it’s a mother and child bond I wouldn’t trade for the world. I’m exhausted, I’m barely awake, the house is a study in chaos, I am still recovering from the surgery and from birth, it hurts to bend and laugh and move, but I’ve never been happier. I am wholly embracing the wonder, challenge and joy of being a mother and I am so completely in love with my baby girl.
When I have a baby, I’m gonna spend the nine months deep inside a k hole coming out just long enough to smoke cigarettes and drink vodka straight from the bottle. Then I’m gonna head straight for a c-section and tell them to give me like ten epidurals so that I’ll feel zero pain and have to do zero work. Then I’m gonna breastfeed the kid wherever I damn well please and for as long as the damn kid needs it, I don’t give a fuck if he’s seven. And I’m gonna homeschool him and never get him vaccinated not because I’m an anti-vaxxer per say but just to piss people off. I’m hoping my child’s first words will either be “God is dead” or “Go fuck yourself.” Anyway no I’m not being completely serious though I kind of wish I was, and I’m not as angry as I sound, in fact I’m smiling right now. I’m listening to Rage Against The Machine’s self-titled first album at top volume on the PK sound system and it’s awesome. God bless America.
We all have the potential to leave other people better off than they were. Even something as simple as smiling at someone can make their whole day. Every person has the power to make a change. We all have it in us to be able to improve the world, to make it better and brighter, for ourselves and for each other. The question is, will we? Love is what makes the whole thing matter. Receiving love makes us brave, and giving love makes us beautiful.
Women need to think less about tearing each other down and more about lifting each other up. Envy, jealousy and bitterness will make you really ugly, no matter how beautiful you think you are. Life is a team sport and you’re only as good as your team. Your life won’t be good if your team isn’t good. Without real friendship and family and love, you’re fucked.
I’m always dismayed when people complain about someone using big words or “showing off how smart they are.” As if there’s something wrong with learning to express yourself eloquently, as if it’s better to be stupid for the rest of our lives, and forever talk like children. Christ, people, level up. Language is powerful and beautiful. It is our privilege to have it, and it is our duty to learn how to use it, to express ourselves clearly, honestly, memorably, genuinely and well. Language makes us who we are, and there are times when words are all we are. We must recognize this, respect it, and enjoy it, in order to recognize, respect and enjoy ourselves in our attempts to use words to creatively, effectively and meaningfully connect with each other.
I’m 42 years old and that’s okay, you don’t need to tell me how young I look or that I look good for my age. I am strong and fantastic and beautiful regardless of how old I am and regardless of what anyone has to say. It’s ridiculous that society makes older women feel they should be ashamed of their age. Fuck society and its stupid rules. If you’re one of those people that think older women are undesirable and that only young women matter then you’re part of the problem so fuck you too.
After decades of doing laundry, I’m actually only now finally separating my whites from my coloured clothes and washing two separate loads. The coloured clothes come out much brighter and the whites come out much whiter, which makes obvious sense, it’s ridiculous that it took me this long to do the job right. Goes to show that even though I’m awesome, I’m also stubborn, lazy and a slow learner. I resisted all this time because I am so “punk rock” and I insist on doing things my way. Also I don’t like other people telling me what to do, even when their advice makes sense, or is just flat out right, especially in the face of my obvious wrongness. So now I concede it’s true, you should separate your coloureds from your whites. I don’t mind admitting I was wrong this time, because these new laundry results are delightful.
The world is both light and dark, and darkness is half of everything. You must accept darkness, and yet choose to live in the light. Consciousness is the gift of that choice. Every day, and at every moment, you can make the world darker or brighter. You alone are responsible for that decision. Every day, and at every moment, you deserve either the credit or the blame, depending on what you do, the actions you take, and the choices you make. Darkness and light, at all times, at every point, you have the power to make a real difference, and the responsibility to make the right choice.
The human body is the most profound work of art and is potentially our most sacred temple. Physically it is flesh and bones but metaphysically it is constructed of the light of life. Our bodies should hold no shame or stigma, we are all beautiful when we regard each other with compassion, and see each other with eyes of love.
There is a darkness inside each of us, that part of ourselves that is irreparably damaged by the hardness of life. We are what we are because of this darkness, or perhaps in spite of it. Some use darkness as a shield to hide behind, others as an excuse to behave unconscionably. But darkness is simply a part of the whole, neither good nor evil, unless you make it so.