Despite the physical barriers that keep us apart, we have all experienced one thing for certain. 9 or so months in our mother’s womb. In that safe, warm, space we grew from the size of a poppy seed to the size of a watermelon, and then we were born; each to our own city, country, street, ancestry, color, and star sign. Perhaps the womb is the only place we can meet, a safe place we can be, remember, return to, and reflect on. My little girl is in prayer, child’s pose. Her heart is beating fast at 140 bpm. She is the size of an avocado today and she’s about 7cm. She is a miracle, a gift from the universe. I want her to know where she came from, so she can know where she is going. I am filled with a sense of responsibility to tell her all the stories she needs to know. I am searching for her name.
