June 2020



This body, it is mine. And, what of that?

Will I choose to reside within no matter what is happening there?

This body is mine, for all of time, this time.

Am I one? Mind, body, heart and soul? Am I two, three, many?

What is possible, if I connect with me, with all of me?

But what of pain and betrayal? What of sadness and loss? Can I choose to reside within with those?

Can I be at peace with my body, given all it’s put me through? All I’ve put it through? 

What is lost if I don’t? 

What is available if I do?

I’m not sure I know how. But I no longer know how not to either. For that seems self betrayal. 

Let us begin. Slowly.  Walking together. Reuniting.

As one. 


                                         —Rylla Resler


April 2020

“Mommie” Milestones

We were two, she made us three,

birthing done, new life begun, 

a family. 

Her tender, piercing gaze,

her piercing cry called my tender heart,

Felt so lost, unsure, only sure I would harm her for life.

We learned each other. We learned together. 

Her sweet determination, clear communication

No No Mommie! when I found her tattooing her thighs with markers. 

How I wanted to laugh. 

Her tenderness with her baby brother, kissing his forehead moments after he arrived. 

How I wanted to cry. 

Her strength, and again that damn determination,

this time about her style. 

She with the silver sandals,

as I fought to put her in traditional Baby Janes.

How much I had to learn from her. 

Her fierce “I HATE YOU!” written on the sheets 

which I wore as a badge of motherhood. 

Thanks to the mother who told me

If you do your job well, she will sometimes hate you.

It was my turn to learn how to stand my ground 

and yet be a soft place for her to land. 

Her teenage years began at 9, 

I hoped she’d finish early. 

Change back! Back to the sweet girl who adored her mother. 

But it was me who had to change. 

My turn to bear the brunt of her moodiness,

As my mother did mine. 

My turn to know I was her safe space. 

She could lash out, and I knew she felt out of control. 

She could lash out, and she knew I still would love her.

The hugs and affection became less, the treasuring of them more. 

The respect grew deeper. 

We worked together well, 

she the clear headed, wise one, 

me the passionate, wild one.

We worked together professionally, (a dream I hadn’t dared dream come true!) 

I learned with her. We learned together. 

She was my first and the one I “practiced” on. 

I thanked her and apologized too. 

She smiled. 

I learned from her. 

She was my first and the one I was inspired by. 

I thanked her. She smiled. 

We were two, she made us three,

birthing done, new life begun, 

a family. 

by Rylla Resler

(my mother always spelled it Mommie, and now I am honored to do so also!)


March 2020

On Cornonavirus…

Allow the anxiety. It’s natural. 

Feel it fully.





Be strong. 

Be resilient. 

Be calm. 

For yourself, for others. 

Be wise; let others worry. 

Make your choices, wise and thoughtful, and trust yourself about them. 

Go on about your life. 

Don’t put your life on hold. 

Even as you choose to skip this event, or change these plans. 

Live with this. 

Live through this. 

Live through this. 

Others have before you and will after you. 

You can, most likely will. 

The question is, will you be at choice? Aware? 

Still engaged and savoring life?

Or letting it happen to you?

Up to you.