MIND: Survival

The people I find irresistible are those in whom the child was not killed.
The qualities of openness, trust, inquisitiveness, tenderness, eagerness, enthusiasm, others undefinable, come from the child in us and are the source of charm.
The laughter and the smile that do not calculate, the spontaneity that is not arrested.
I cannot remember ‘adult’ charm or whether it even exists.

The Diary of Anais Nin, Vol. 6: 1955-1966 // Anaïs Nin

SOL: Appreciation

For adoration, the creation of high
Standards and the brash insistence that I
Never settle for anything less than exactly what
I want, leading by example and demanding nothing but
Excellence in every endeavour, constantly pushing boundaries
Breaking molds and challenging barriers – assumptions
For pouring gasoline on misguided notions and then
Putting a lighter in my stocking for Christmas, my
Mischievous provider, I could not live a stale life even
If I wanted to, you have filled my expectations to the brim and
I lust for nothing less than pure
Magic and spontaneous adventure.

For support, the fostering of
Ideas and the encouragement to pursue risky ventures
Helping me off the ground after each fall and
Reminding me that like buds, I will spring forth again
Telling me that the torn skin on my knees is
Simply proof of a lesson, not a failure
Pushing me towards greatness, mentoring me after
Error, chastising me with a smirk when I came
Home in the early hours of morning with wild hair, laughing eyes and
A childish grin, and you still telling me
I look like a goddess.

For sacrifice, the perpetual struggle of
Knowing what you would lose and instead focusing on
What I would gain, selflessness personified
Offering me on blistered hands what you
Hustled for, struggled to obtain and dressing it up with the
Ribbons from each birthday party you threw and tossing
Flowers at each recital you never missed, the
Constant belief that I could be anything I wanted
Ensuring a safeguard for my future but recognizing
In my petulant face, so like yours
That I would carve my own path with
The tools you provided.

For candor, the brutal honesty of
Fiery words and tempers clashing, the gods themselves
Were forged within fires such as these
Hands pulled through hair with the realization you are
Arguing with a child less, a replica more
Pulling no punches as words are carved with eloquent mouths
It was you who first put a pen in my hand and
Told me to write, reminding me that
Each experience was a blessing, telling me to pile
The rocks and epithets hurled at me into a foundation
Upon which I would one day flourish
Arming me with the knowledge that we all choose our own fate and
Never letting me admit defeat.

For stability, the unwavering dedication to
The fostering of my dreams and the insistence
That I never accept no for an answer
The quiet pain of watching me grow and shrink with
Love and lack thereof, the fear I heard in your eyes but
Not in your voice when you put me on a plane
Praying the dark cloud over my head was not terminal
Questioning my moves but understanding my motives
You are the powerhouse, the unwavering driving force
The sun our souls revolve around, and so
I hope you never foolishly forget that I
Will always find my way home to you.

3AM Thoughts // AKA “Why I Love You – Happy Birthday Mom.”