dear woman 3,
last time we were together you called me an anchor, which i LOVE because it means in some universe i'm grounded instead of floating.
i think you are superwoman, but it just seems to be in your bones. in your seams. not that i think your life is effortless. i think it's full of effort, actually. but what you teach me is that effort is different than struggle, and you are a maker. a maker of your life, a maker of your days.
we talked about stress once, and you said you don't feel it. you said you don't feel stress, and i wonder how that's possible when your days are full and your nights are full, and when you're not doing something you're doing everything. "i don't know," you said. "why? what makes you feel stressed?"
it takes at least a decade to learn to truly only do what you want, you said. practice it now, every day.
i think you are the definition of practice because you make perfect, and i think you have gorgeous hands. you're a gorgeous person, but when i think of you, i see your hands - capable of sculpting a statue, or a healthy dinner or the day of a friend. you take up space by making room and add to the universe without overloading it. you say no and life says yes. to want means to do. to have means to deliver. to sing means to open your mouth. that's the next thing i see when i picture you - your smiling teeth. thanks is really what i want to say. thank you for existing in a way that all of us could, all of us should, if only we would stop letting everything happen to us and start remembering we have feet. (hands! teeth!)