Mother Nature’s Marvel

by Ilinap on April 23, 2015



We don’t need Earth Day to remind us that Gaia herself rules the world. Have you ever stopped to marvel at nature? It is particularly striking this time of year in North Carolina. There’s a rainbow bursting in every yard, between the sidewalk cracks, and peeping through fence slats. A carpet of yellow buttercups brightens the stretch of park in front of my house. There are shades of pink and purple and green that neither Crayola nor Opi nor Pantone has quite captured. To look into the frail billows of a blossom is to see Mother Nature’s way of saying life must go on. There are there brittle branches reaching upward, peppered with buds, holding such promise. It is the promise of hope and beauty and what-ifs. Have you stopped to truly appreciate the crunch of the leaves underfoot? It’s so very satisfying to simultaneously feel and hear that sharp cruunnnnch when stepping on the wind blown seeds and nuts littering the sidewalk. The chirping of birds fluttering amongst the brush is nature’s wake up call to beckon a new day. The blooms popping through the mulch and soil, the epitome of delayed gratification from winter’s planting. The smell of a fresh spring rain or the season’s first mowed lawn is sweeter than any perfume. Look up, look down, look around. Colors abound. Light dances. Inhale. Earth’s richness unleashes in marvelous ways as the damp soil prepares to unlock her bounty. Open your eyes wide, shades off for even just a moment, to squint at the sun and feel its light warm your lids. Close your eyes. Feel the touch of Mother Nature, a simple brush across your cheek that leaves you awestruck at her brushstrokes fine and large.


It’s Hard to Be a White Man

by Ilinap on April 16, 2015

The other day a guy was lamenting to me about how hard it is to be a white man these days. At first I thought he was being ironic. I mean, he was saying this to me, a brown woman. Hearing these words uttered from the lips of a white man left me feeling perplexed. Was he expecting sympathy from me? Was he seeking an empathetic fist bump, as if I feel his pain?

I didn’t even know what to do with this.

I wanted to laugh in his face. And I wanted to kick him in the nuts.

Instead, my mouth hung agape. My eyes possibly rolled to the back of my brain. And I cocked my left brow in a show of bitchy snark.

And then I turned away.

What exactly is so hard about being a white man these days? I know there are companies all over the US with “white male employee networks” where men can break bread with their ilk and not feel left out of all the other employee networks, you know, the ones designed to give minorities some representation and voice in Corporate America.

Look, I’ve got nothing against white males. I’m married to one after all. But to profess some sort of victimization to prejudice is simply bullshit.



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