I wouldn’t necessarily call them commandments

but here they are. Love. Always and first. Understand that

the word ‘unconditional’ will circulate, and it is a word that drives

the polygraph psychotic. Nothing is without condition. Ever. Parameters 

ensure your safety, and safety is something you’ll come to know, 

at a similar time to realising that love alone is not enough. Duty follows. 

Compare where you might impose love,

to where you may have to betray it in favour of duty

and you will unlock a set of circumstances so bizarre and conflictive 

to consumptive human nature, it will make you address greed.

Once trying to scramble for a raft in the sea of your immediate wants and needs, 

you will find yourself suddenly, auspiciously buoyant—

and then, well-acquainted with value. Loss can render you newly faithful, 

with a novel appreciation for guidance. It may even give you an appetite, 

and pronounce your gratitude, for this list of things—

that aren’t commandments, remember? I’ll call them virtues, 

for want of a better word. Observe how there is a virtuosity, extended maybe 

to generosity, in communication. Don’t sleep on speech; and certainly don’t

be lazy with it. Talking aloud is another category altogether from

saying what you really mean. Lastly, hold acceptance close. 

Receive the here and now, as a product of the past, however messy,

and however stained you believe your hand to be. Faults can be rebranded 

as lessons at any time, though often it occurs 

when you’re least expecting, so you will never know when 

the transgression (the healing part) took place. You might not know 

how or what you did to incite fluency, but this is because acceptance secretes ease. 

When things get easier, it’s a sign of permanence: 

metaphorical stitching, if you will. However, 

if you truly cannot bring yourself to start, 

not even with love—always and first, as described—

then consider that perspective, too, carries some degree of heart.

© Mollie Mardel