A series of initiations. A continuous choice to mother myself.

A simultaneous heartbreak and rejoicing in the new places and spaces our children lead us to; a deeper understanding of ourselves.

The inherent loss that is present with motherhood. Existing within the fleeting nature of time. Practicing savoring.

I feel the ache and longing of the mothers around me. It echoes my own. And I sort through the impermanence, the joy, the tansformation, the release, the lessons, the love, the forgiveness daily.

Present to the inherent healing that comes with motherhood and the invitation to find deep nourishment and sustenance along the way.

Blessing For a Mother
by John O’Donohue

Your voice learning to soothe
Your new child
Was the first home-sound
We heard before we could see.

Your young eyes
Gazing on us
Was the first mirror
Where we glimpsed
What to be seen
Could mean.

Your nearness tilled the air,
An umbilical garden for all the seeds
Of thought that stirred in our infant hearts.

You nurtured and fostered this space
To root all our quietly gathering intensity
That could grow nowhere else.

Formed from the depths beneath your heart,
You know us from the inside out.
No deeds or seas or others
Could ever erase that.

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