I am born from many mothers. As I was reflecting on the events that transpired in the past two days this particular thought emerged. The story of my life is perhaps the same as most others-- one of manifesting the changing of the seasons though I live in a place of eternal sunshine. In the glare of this reality, I find myself constantly navigating my way through the loneliness of the dark months, the transmutation of my many selves preparing the demise of their hues, the breaking free from the constricted buds of my beliefs and my adamant disrobing of this cloak of precarious blossoming into the parching of my own mind, body and heart. Through it all, I meet people who support me in the many ways my seasons change. Some are the fierce catalysts of change. Some are the gentle nurturers of my soul. Most are both. And I see all of them as "mothers' in that whether fierce or gentle, they birth a new version of myself every time my heart and mind is open enough to meet them
