With Mother’s Day yesterday, I searched for profound words to encapsulate my experience of mothering and being mothered, and all the nuances that come with it.
All I came up with were fragments of thoughts, random sentences, about flowers and children that were steeped in the realization of the fleetingness of it all, which is similar to what I wrote last year…
Then I felt deflated that I had no recent photos of me and the three kids, and made up all kinds of things about what that means about me as a mother… and then I posted a video of geese and their goslings, and called it a day.
Today, I am starting to share some of my art on my website, and I came across a description of my process about I piece I made in 2022. I thought, hey this still resonates.
Wild Remembrance :
Is a 3ft x 2.5 ft canvas of a landscape painted over a spread of words about motherhood. While questioning how one turns mothering, as what has been inherited as a self sacrificing duty - to one of devotion. Beginning with self devotion so the continued process of motherhood can be one of replenishment rather than depletion. Through these thoughts, I circled a few words scattered over the canvas and this appeared :
Remedy motherhood by luxuriating in beauty, receiving it as a healing offering.
I am creating an enchanted garden, one where perhaps dreams go to compost and new ones grow in their place. Where fragile seedlings grow into their full expression when nurtured correctly. One of initiation and aliveness. Of splendor and wonder. One of gratitude. Watered by tears. A visual image where one can connect to the fact of the infinite gift it is to receive the moments of mothering and beyond.
A subtle invitation drawing them closer to themselves, because perhaps that is the ultimate elixir of motherhood : deepening one's relationship to oneself. And the paradox of doing so when so many constant demands and expectations are being shouldered to carry for the ones you love.
You can see the print of this piece here.
And the one sentence I thought valuable enough to write while I was driving this weekend :
When it is gone it is gone. May you savor whatever season you are in. May there be a celebration in both the peaks and the valleys because you will never return to where you find yourself now.