an ally and a friend

 

blog

On 3 June 2016 An Asturian Cross quietly appeared on my leg and a story began on the page.

I’m holding a mug of coffee. It might actually be a soup bowl with a handle. Dan has a recycled pickle jar of chai tea. He sits on the inherited chair that has become my writing perch. We are discussing this recent season and the waves it brought into our lives. Every installment of ink on my body has brought in a great wave of spiritual transformation and focusing. I’m back on shore from revisiting a place where I once lost a part of myself while developing other areas. It began when I knew it was time for me to get my Asturian cross, anchoring myself in the ‘Suarez’ of my bloodline, my ancestry and the inheritance of my faith.

Dan witnesses for me as I drink coffee and circle my way around some new understandings of myself that are not new to anyone that knows me. My tribe are patient with me.

I have learned a lot about myself.

I have learned that I love God 

I’m not worried about being loved in return

it doesn’t matter.

What matters is that I love God.
And I’m pretty happy with that kind of crazy

the being crazy because I live my life in the faith that God is with me,

speaking to me in the moments of my days and in my dreams,

I receive more information than I know what to do with

and I am crazy because I believe that being an artist

is just a gifting for translation and a willingness to listen

Dan is nodding, drinking his tea, and when I’m done, when I’ve exhausted myself into being able to listen, he says to me, “And you to need to remember that ‘Ally versus friend’ is your new short-hand.  Ally versus friend. You are an ally to many but friend to few. Being an ally is supporting someone in the community that has been assigned to your heart but you, Eros-Alegra, with your Suarez streak, are the kind of friend that will bury a body, no questions asked. People take advantage of that. But no more.”

I raise my soup bowl mug of coffee and he raises his pickle jar of chai tea in cheers as I say,
“It’s funny because it is true.”

Joaquin arrives at the door, already out of his pyjamas and anxious to test himself against the  adult-height basketball hoop and ball he won’t let defeat him.

“Speaking of the Suarez spirit, here comes my partner in crime. Ready to conquer the court, mi hijo?”

He is already down the hallway, as I’m struggling into purple wool socks and the easiest shoes for me to slip into, grabbing my music.

Dan makes me pause for a moment, slow down.

“Hey, babe. Look at this life of ours. These children, all of this love.”
I smile as Joaquin shouts from the hallway, “MOM!”
I bring it full circle as we like to do and say, “It’s funny because it’s true.”
Dan, “Amen. Now go play.”

 

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