Becoming the Soil

Secret Harbor, St. Thomas

I liked it better when you were a bitch. Hearing your weakened voice showcase the cruel deterioration of your once sharp mind, I feel a deep and bothersome sadness. Damn this tenderness and compassion that I needed from you as a child, teen, and young woman for coming through me now on your behalf. Why couldn’t you stay the villain with your back turned to me as it was for decades? At least there, I had a place to work my way through and beyond. In that paradigm it was clear—I knew all the things I never wanted to become or drape upon my daughters. As a child, I feared your anger. As a teen, I loathed your abandonment. As a young woman, I forged ahead as if you didn’t exist. My soul became too worn to weather intermittent love and reliable judgement, so I learned how to turn my back on you. I’d like to believe it was heartfelt intention that urged some of your engagement with me. Sometimes, I felt that. I carry those moments in my bones. Other times, it felt like sandpaper against my softness. I send those moments love for the both of us. Today, I’m in full sync with my life’s purpose—to love, to heal, give voice to our emotional lives and to hold space for stories to root and bloom. In the motherhood and midlife of my storyline, my healing supports and surpassed the lineage we share. I am less tree and more soil than ever— a rich, multi-layered, nourishing earthly balance of darkness and delightfulness that feeds fruition. Soil is wise—it nourishes without agenda. Soil speaks the history of us and our ancestors. Soil forgives. Soil welcomes fallen seeds, recognizes each one as a bloom-worthy storyline, and holds space for enriched purpose. My inner child asks, “I can be the soil, but do I have to be your soil too?” My inner teen rages, “The direct and passive-aggressive guilt-traps that I should be taking care of you now is so fucking unfair!” My young-woman self can’t be reached for comment. My midlife self burrows deeper into our island of origin, pushing nourishment to our roots and branches in the hope that you feel more loved than ever so that when you fly, it is with the easeful peace and knowingness that your stories brought meaning to our lineage and that we will remember your love from the moments you were your highest, hopeful, heartfelt self.