Our Mother, who art beside us,
thank you for knowing my name.
Kingdoms overcome, my will all undone:
unearth what remains of heaven.
Give me this day—
my daily bread.
And outlive my doubts, as I’m a shouter and coward.
Cradle me after temptation, and remain through each damned sequel.
For thine is the freedom,
and all story,
Forever Endeavoring. Amen.
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I must change my life, I thought. Is this what Rilke meant? That I should “get healthy?” I should eat better, drink better? I jumped to this conclusion in the aisle at my grocery store.
I've had climate change anxiety since college, but bringing a baby into the universe intensifies it. My anxiety no longer only extends the length of my lifespan. I tell my husband Taylor I regret having a child because I can't stand the thought of Jackson in pain. He holds up our son’s wiggly, plump body. "You really wish he didn't exist?"