chainmail made of lace

Day 130

photo by Michelle Johnsen

photo by Michelle Johnsen

Some days I am consumed with wanting,

overcome with a love so strong it pricks my eyes with tears and tightens my throat.

This boy, my son. His cousin, my nephew.

They are perfect. Their eyes sparkle and their laughter loosens all the too tight things in this world.

They please the Gods.

I just know it.

And I




for them.

I want it so bad it makes my palms itch, makes my skin crawl,

leaves me breathless.

I want a world perfect for them.

Clean air, clean water, clean soil, clean food.

Kind people, many friends, laughing faces, love.

Hope, happiness, peace.

I want them to run wild,

climb high trees,

drink water while swimming.

I want them to carry the smell of sunlight and wood smoke in their hair, on their skin.

I want them to know their people, to be confident and secure,

shoulders back, heads high.

To be sure the world is good,

ordered in a magic way,

in the Old Way.

I just want it.

I want things to be right.

And you know what kills me?

What crumbles me,

squeezes my heart like a shiny, steel vise?

Is that no matter how much I wish,

or how much I want,

it doesn’t change anything.

They will still have their challenges.

Zander will have to work to read faces, make friends, make sense of a mixed up world,

Revie will have to learn to protect his soft heart, recognize the battles he can win and those he can’t.

And that’s the thing about mothering no one tells you.

That one day, you will send your small children out into a world,

that is big, and scary, and unknown,

and the only armor you will be allowed to give them,

is a lifetime of your own love,

wrapped around them and woven,

like chainmail made of lace.

Will it stop bullets? Or broken hearts?

But this must be every mother’s, and father’s,

and person’s challenge,

regardless of the state of the world, the purity of the water, the health of the planet.

To balance worry and wanting with

a willingness to do the work of

actually changing the world.

I’d make a deal with the devil

if I thought it would make things right.

But there is no devil to fall back on.

Just very, very good people,

working very, very hard.

I always think that if I died right now,

my greatest achievement would be having loved a few people

very, very much

with each cell of my being.

And that even if I live to be one hundred,

that would be enough.

The loving.

That is always enough.

Because when it comes right down to it,

what else is there?

I love you.

I am sorry.

Thank you.

Please forgive me.

Thank you for listening,



photo by Michelle Johnsen

photo by Michelle Johnsen


4 responses to “chainmail made of lace

  1. Natasha. Every post sends chills through me, but this one….oh this one. I love you so deeply, and am so touched by your work. Mother work, town work, land work, world work. Your son, your nephew, and anyone blessed to know and love you, they have already won a grand prize in that alone. Your love exudes, and it’s an honor to feel it. So much love and light to you and yours. xoxo

  2. Natasha, your son and nephew are already very, very lucky to have you!

  3. {{{{ ❤ }}}

    Being a part of your world – even though along the fringed edges – is a rare privilege which softens and warms me from within, stoking a yearning to be ever closer to the true self at my core.

  4. Love you always, lady.


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