Dear Mother, I stepped into the water tonight. Allowed it to envelop my periphery. Gave my all to the current. I dove in headlong when I felt it was safe to do so. I felt myself grow weightless. It is no coincidence that gravity exists neither in water nor on the moon. Dear Mother, please take my soul to smoother climes. Please guide me to where the river does not bite or snap. Please carry me. I am so tired. Dear Mother, I’m sorry. I have resisted your lessons for so long. I have turned away from your slow whispering tide. Allowed the rapids to swallow me, to thrash me about. I haven’t put up much of a fight. How could I? When you did not make me a fighter. It is both my strength and my weakness. But I love you so much. I have committed myself to love. To the Divine Feminine in me. I have turned myself over to the stream, entered it with care, played in the waves as I did in childhood. How far I have come. I remember the night you came to visit. I was alone in my room with the lights off and a baggy’s worth of fungi in my stomach. I was so alone. So far from myself. And then you came in, hovering over me with those eyes, those big, knowing, glowing eyes. You told me, this is not your path and you have forgotten me. And ever since I have done my best to make you proud. I have tried so hard. But alas I falter. I cling too tightly. I do not trust the flow. I seek to control the whole river. I blame myself. I bear the brunt of the pain, and the accusation, though I know it all falls not on my own shoulders. I push and push, pull and pull. Seek and seek. I keep contracts in my filing cabinet long after they’ve burned to ash. Dear Mother, please forgive me, for I have sinned. I have loved others but not myself. I have given to others but not to myself. I have allowed those who seek to harm my spirit to do so without travail, without issue. I have tried so hard, Mother. Tried to love her well. I have loved her well, haven’t I? I know I’ve made mistakes. But I try my best to rectify them. I try to hold the proper space for the ones I love, to send them my most tender care. And now I cannot help but hang my head a slight, even as the water carries me weightlessly downstream. For you have sought for so many years to teach me the power of letting go. And I have scoffed at you, scorned your efforts, resisted your wisdom. But now I am tired. I have no more to give. No more energy to push against the current. I am truly truly sorry. Please forgive me. Please absolve me of my burdens. Please help me to clear all energy that no longer serves me. Please watch over her too. Every step of the way. Lord knows she deserves at least that. Please show me the way forward. Please help me to choose the wise path. The path of least resistance. The path of the soul. I promise to follow. I promise not to fight it. I promise to honor you. Please guide me, Mother. I am your humble child and nothing more. I’ll do as you instruct. I’ll let go. If only you will carry me. And also, if you don’t mind, could you send my Muse along to meet me? I’ll be waiting for her where the river runs shallow and calm, where the blue winter gives it over to frost and freeze, where the trees grow bare and the sky goes gray, where the songs of the night are played on the harps of the wind. I’ll be waiting, floating along as you’ve always intended.