Dear Otea:

I'm happily child-free but sometimes struggle with the cultural stigma around that. I want the world to see me as I see me: a mother to my creative endeavors, my pets, my garden, and all of the beings in my life that want and need love. Should I say to hell with what people think, or try gracefully to get them to see that I, too, am a mother?

Oracle card cocktail: The promiscuous permissioning of La Saraghina and the inarguable
power of The Ancient Winds.

Cara Mia:

Being in this world as you are needs no name and no witness. Mother is present each time the world makes way for you—in the depth of your hands digging into that garden dirt, in the rise of your animal’s fur reaching for your fingertips, and in the plush press of a cushion bending around your body. And it is present each time the world has its way with you—as you dance in its downpour with your widest hips while they try to call all that you conceive of anything other than love, love, love. Your love is limitless. So be wordless. Bear no mark. Ask for no introduction. Creation has already conceived of you and you can conceive of it however you wish. To hell with them and all the way back, to the place where you choose to bear
all this beauty instead.

Un abbraccio forte,
Otea