The Mother with the Moon

As we approach the summer solstice and the new moon solar eclipse on Sunday, I feel that the ‘mother’ in all her guises, both literally and as Gaia, is very much in the field at the moment. 

However, it might just be me, because I have been immersing myself more in the goddess recently, listening to a series of lectures by Kathy Jones, who is a Priestess of Avalon and a Priestess of Goddess and the Founder of the Goddess Temple, Hall & House in Glastonbury, and I am reading her book too, Soul and Shadow, so am fully in that zone. So perhaps it is a case of law of attraction, given the information coming in. 

Yet, and as I always say, I am merely a micro of the macro so it is likely that you are feeling it too and I suspect it will become clearer and stronger the closer we get Sunday. For me the body has been getting my attention, a sensation in the breast and a change in consistency of monthly blood (sorry, probably too much information but this is how the body talks to us, how the wisdom comes through, as a result of changes in our own nature, the very bones and muscles and skin of our body in this very lifetime on Planet Earth).

It’s in this way, through the body, that we are made aware of stuck energy that is often the result of old repressed emotions that have not been allowed expression, this is e-motions (energy in motion) that need releasing, of wounds that still need healing, for the energy to be able to flow again and for us to feel increased wellbeing and greater presence (less weighed down by the energy stuck (and sticking us) in the past). 

I dropped into the body sensations, and tried to listen. I’ve channelled quite a lot of Reiki recently and this has undoubtably helped in me understanding a little more of what my body is trying to tell me, although there’s still always more to know (one of the many wonderful things about working with Reiki is that you receive as you give!)

I realise how much I have been giving myself a hard time for my perceived mothering failures, about the decisions I have made in the past about how I might live in relationship with my children, about going back to work when Elijah was only 3 months old, and how this has pained me for six years now, to think that I felt I had little choice and the guilt at leaving my son albeit with my own beautiful mum, which of course made it easier. 

I know that I made that decision as consciously as I could at that time, and that if I knew then what I know now, I might have found a different way and made a different decision instead, which would have enabled me to spend more time with my son when he was still so young. Yet I recognise that we can only ever make decisions based on what we know in that moment, depending on our level of consciousness and our perception about where we are and what we feel we need/want from life. 

 It is all too easy to reflect back now and consider how we might have done things differently if only we had known then what we know now, and to give ourselves a very hard time in the process, focusing on our perceived failings rather than the bits we might have got right, that feel more comfortable to us. I know also that this ‘hard time giving’ serves no one, not us, and especially not our children. There is nothing to be gained by being negative towards ourselves, yet as mothers we do this. 

Sometimes the weight of what it means to mother can be overwhelming, simply because we are desperate not to mess it up, not to cause pain to our children or to damage them in any way. Yet we are only human and life is messy and uncertain, and we are all of our own nature, which means with the best will in the world we can never do it for our children and we may never truly understand the way that they see the world, as much as we may try, which means that we may not always be the person that they need us to be, regardless of how much of ourselves we give to them.

I know all this, and yet I have been so conscious of trying to be all that is needed and to understand their needs and their wants and accommodate these as best I can without losing myself in the process, which is the trickiest bit, because sometimes we do lose ourselves, despite our best efforts! The trouble is that mothering cannot be delineated. There is no line to say that this is where I begin and this is where I end, that this is what I will give and this is what I will keep for myself, as this too is always in flux and it cannot be pinned down or made concrete from one day to the next. 

Today I am this way and tomorrow I might be another way, and I know now that that is OK. Somehow we will find a way. And the way weaves this way and that, and the wind drops and the sun sets and all is calm, and then the storm comes to turn this all on its head and there is no sunset that day and the wind does not stop blowing so that we cannot hear so clearly, and we are flustered and full of rage, and then the rain comes and it cools us down, and we start again, the heart open closing open closing, wanting always to be open but there are moments when it cannot be that way. 

So too it is with mothering and being mothered. How much do we open to the vulnerability of being loved and of loving with all our heart? It sounds so easy but sometimes it is not. There are moments when we lose the awareness that allows us to be so present, even for a split second and we might say something that is not aligned to heart, because we are protecting our own heart, because there is some wounding, some resonance of some hurt that we didn’t like very much.

Sometimes we can be mothered so much that we don’t even know who we are, because we are smothered by the weight of another trying to protect us, to the extent that we cannot hear our own heart and we cannot therefore find our own path with heart . And others not mothered enough, so that their heart lays heavy with the sadness of the rejection and the abandonment so that they reject and abandon a part of themselves and the possibility of love because they do not consider themselves worthy enough, or because it is too hard. 

And speak to me also, of how you might mother yourself?  I reflect on this too. The breast talks of nourishment and the womb talks of sacred space, of ancient wisdom. Both talk to us of our unique spiritual path, our path with heart, our way. This is in contrast to the way that seeks to include everyone in the same ‘mundane’ expression of life according to the rules and order and constrictions of society.  

The womb is our power, we know this, the dark space, the void, the deep mystery. Babies grow inside this, inside ourselves. This blows my mind even now, even having grown two real live human beings inside me, even having felt it for myself and seen the heart beat alone of both babies when they were six weeks in utero (we are alllllllll heart and there was validation as I wrote about in Dancing with The Moon). The breasts that nourish new life, that allow new life to grow, that bring baby to heart, so that there is a heart-resonance on a very deep level from the moment the baby enters the world and suckles. 

Even now, at three and a half years I am frustrated by those who tell me that he is too old for milk. It is not just milk! This is one of the most natural things that my body does. It brings my son directly to my heart and it nourishes him beyond the calories and vitamins of breast milk. It is the most beautiful thing in the world to me and I am grateful to my Ayurvedic doctor for recognising this, and normalising this and knowing that in Sri Lanka, her mother breast fed all the children until they were ready to let it go, maybe six, maybe seven, whenever they chose. 

These are the messages that I am receiving. And I know now as I write this and share with you that there is deeper meaning. That this is about following our own unique spiritual path and it is about breaking free from all that constrains us and prevents us from doing this - from our conditioning and the conditioning of those from whom we seek validation, and from society. We each have our own unique nature. An oak tree is an oak tree, it cannot be a beech tree however much someone might wish it to be, it is not its nature. 

There is this wonderful song by José González, called In Our Nature, which goes:

It's in our nature.
It's in our nature.
It's in our nature.
It's in our nature.

Put down your sword.
Send home your dogs.
Open up your doors.
Let down your guard.

It's in our nature.
It's in our nature.
It's in our nature.
It's in our nature.

Put down your gun.
Ignore the alarm.
Open up your heart.
Let down your guard.

It's in our nature.
It's in our nature.
It's in our nature.
It's in our nature.
It's in our nature

This has always spoken to me, of the need to allow our true nature by letting down our guard. It is only in letting down our guard and allowing our vulnerability that we can truly know our heart. Our heart speaks of our truth and our truth speaks of our nature and our nature speaks of our soul.

Mother Earth she knows only the song of the soul, she sings of love and truth and justice for all, she weaves the magic of earth, water, fire, air and ether, and it is this, manifest, that nourishes us all, the big mystery, the dark void, the essence of all we are is the essence of all she is too, yet she knows only heart, she knows only vulnerability, because this is her nature and she trusts in that, and it this that is the ultimate lesson. She trusts in her true nature, she trusts her soul. And this, my friends, is where we find ourselves now, at the crossroads of the new paradigm.  

Can we trust our soul to nourish and sustain us? Can we find the courage to allow the deepest vulnerability, the greatest intimacy? Can we let go of all that distances us from our own nature?

The moon will tell us a tale, and the eclipse will tell us a tale too. And the sun and the rain, they tell us a tale too, of violet, indigo, blue, green, yellow, orange and red. We walk the rainbow bridge and she holds our hand as a mother holds a child, and we know that we will be safe, because we are held by the…great…mother…earth.

Love x