This morning I was feeling rather tender. Well, to be honest, I was feeling a bit tender last night as well. That sort of ambiguous sensitivity that makes you want to shut the door on the world, curl up in a ball, and drink loads of tea. It is subtle, though, that feeling; it creeps in around the edges of consciousness, such that each movement in the process of dressing, or in the simple preparation of toasted bread, becomes ever so slightly heavy. And then, *ah* - an inner acknowledgment that what I needed more than anything was to be mothered.
I wanted Ochun and Yemaya to bathe me in sweet and briny waters. I wanted to curl up in honeyed arms, and have my hair stroked by firm and gentle ocean hands.