MOTHERHOOD REIMAGINED

I never longed to have children; I just assumed I would.   So after I was married for a few years and the time time seemed right, I felt “ready.”  I fantasized about those sweet Mothers Days I would soon have with my perfect children.  But try, try, try as we did, nothing happened.  Mothers Day then became a day to dread and grieve, until we came to the realization that what we were ready for, what we wanted to be was parents, with no strong desire to duplicate our genes.

We were fortunate to be able to build our family through adoption, our boys coming to us two years apart.   Mothers Day was mine!  But, during the most exhausting of those years of caring for young children, I often wondered:  Shouldn’t Mothers Day should be a day set aside for not having to be with my children?  Shouldn’t it be a day when Mom gets to go to the spa?  Or read a book?  Or see a matinee alone?   Yet on Mothers Day we hold up the ideal of “mother,” that mythical being who is full of self-sacrifice and unconditional love, not the mom who doesn’t have a clue and gets it wrong most of the time, or just wants her own version of a “time out.” 

Over my 29+ years as a mother, I’ve spent some time reflecting about Mothers Day.  I never took the day all to myself; instead finding, amidst the exhaustion, the simple joy in opening a handmade card and exclaiming over a plate of syrupy pancakes and runny eggs.  

So I know Mothers Day can indeed be a lovely time of celebration, but I am mindful of those for whom it isn’t, because any day set aside to honor a person or event can also be a day that is just tough to get through.  One commemorative holiday does not fit all.  For some of us this day is tinged with grief.  Maybe we have lost a mother, or lost a child; when everyone else is celebrating, we are sad. 

I wish I had realized when I was childless that mother or not, perfect or not, grieving or not, we can  all claim the day with a shift in focus, using the best of the Mother Archetype to make it our own in our own way.  The energy that goes into mothering a child is the energy that also goes into birthing a dream, igniting the spark of creativity, holding a vision of completion. 

  Mothering energy is powerfully present when I love and care for a cat or a dog or a horse or a coop full of chickens; tending, feeding, doctoring, comforting, knowing each in its own way, giving to each just what it needs, enjoying the sweet innocence of give and take between me and this precious creature I love.  

Mothering energy is powerfully present when I plant a tiny seed in fertile soil I have prepared, waiting patiently for it to sprout, then coaxing it to grow by providing nutrients, water, light, and a sturdy stake upon which to lean until it bursts into full flower or provides food for my table, in the fullness of the harvest.

Mothering energy is powerfully present when I stand before the blank canvas, or sit before the blank page, and a germ of an idea -- a color or a word -- sparks its way from my creative source to find expression in my art.  Day by day I add, delete, expand, re-imagine, until, finally there is a painting or a poem gestated in quiet, private moments, ready to be shared with the world.  I may never know how many lives I will touch by sharing this song of the heart.

Just as a mother holds her infant close, letting go bit by bit as her child grows into being himself, independent and ready to take his own place on the planet, so too does a mother of creativity hold close her idea, manifesting bit by bit a vision, growing it to fruition to take its own place in the great fabric of creation.

To be a mother is to find that place of creation within, that place of selfless discipline, that place of overwhelming love, of exhausted frustration followed by heart-driven recommitment to that which we love, to that which we have no choice but to birth, nurture, and then eventually, to let go.

At least, that's the view from here...©