I was thinking about my love for my daughters…how fierce it is. How it permeates my being, exists in every particle of their beings, how it made them and grew them and nourishes them. I inhale love on the scent of their skin, their downy hair, their big doe eyes, their drowsy heads on my shoulders. It has made me into a person who sacrifices, who protects, who keeps vigil over sick children with a soft voice and a cool hand to feverish foreheads. It is fierce and present in each moment I breathe, when they are with me as well as when I’m working, pumping milk for my baby and trying to teach my clients about this force I don’t understand, which moves us and molds us. And someday soon, that fierce, tight, protective love will have to move and be molded as well. It will have to soften, open, become pliant and yielding. It will have to become a love that allows, a love that trusts, a love that lets go. I will have to become a person who allows, who trusts, who lets go. That’s the game, isn’…