May 11, 2023

For the Mothers: I Honor You in the Mess & the Mayhem.

For the mothers:

I honour the part of you that just knows.

Your fierce instincts, your intuition, your gut, your centre, your core, every fibre of your being that knows what is right for you and what is right for your kids.

I don’t pretend to know what is right for the woman beside me. I have a hard enough time listening to my own inner voice, let alone trying to work out the soft whispers of the woman to my left, or the raging screams of the woman to my right.

I also honour the part of you that doesn’t know. I honour the complexities in seeing, hearing and responding to everyone else’s needs, often before your own.

I get the confusion, the challenge, and the charge around working out what it is you f*cking need when you have spent a lifetime, a long time, or any amount of time prioritising what other people want. I forgive myself, and all the women in my life, for the times I didn’t know what I needed, let alone desired. 

I acknowledge that after a decade of mothering I am ready to use words like desire and pleasure. That is not to diminish the joy that arises from my children, but rather to give life to the joy that arises from within me when I do things like write, practice yoga, or sit in circle with women.

I am finally willing to name my desire to work with women in some capacity and own, wholeheartedly, that this is my purpose on this planet. 

I know that when I am in fear and scarcity I wonder if there is enough space and time for all of us. Yet slowly, I am learning to trust that I no longer have to compare myself with other women and the gifts they have. I don’t have to shrink when I feel too much, or puff up when I feel like I am not enough.

The more time I spend with mothers, sisters, daughters, and grandmothers, the more I am convinced that there is absolutely enough space on this planet for each and every one of us to bring our gifts forth, if we dare.

And for my ancestors who couldn’t do that, because of the time and space they were born into, I do this for you. Thank you Nana Rita for paving the way. I’m sure I would have been labelled crazy too if I was born during your time…

And the final thread holding all of this together is the beautiful body that was once home to our babies. For me, it was often easier to care for it when I had someone else inside to imagine caring for. But I’m practicing caring for me again now.

Sometimes self-care looks like long walks by the lake or a cup of tea that I haven’t had to heat up three times in the microwave, like my own mother still does. (I get it now Mum—you were busy!)

Sometimes self-care looks like wine and takeaway for a night off from cooking. Other times, self-care is as simple as slowing down, forgiving myself, and giving myself a pat on the back for keeping all of the children alive and making it through another day.

Sometimes that is enough. Actually, that is always enough!

I realise now that in order to be able to celebrate the mothers in my life, I need to be able to celebrate myself too. This letter is for me as well as you: I love you. I see you. I hear you. I feel you.

I honour you this Mother’s Day in the mess and the mayhem of the external world. May it be a reminder for all of us to find stillness and beauty as we create a new or different internal world.

Happy Mother’s Day. Big womb love.


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