NO SURPRISES

It's Mothers Day, so appropriately I'm thinking of my mom, grandmother, aunts...those who contributed to making me both physically and psychologically.  I thank them for so much and used to hold them responsible for some too.  Actually, I've come to believe that holding onto "it's my mom's fault" past the age of about 30, when you really should know better, is just mean.  Take some responsibility for you own life!  See a shrink!  I can be very judge-y about his because I hung on to my resentments and blame for FAR too long and now I'd like a do-over.  I'm just glad I woke up in time to have a decade or so with my mom when we were able to really share our thoughts and feelings and enjoy each other...I wish it had happened sooner, because toward the end she had dementia and we sort of reversed roles and that was weird, but healing for me to be able to care for her.  And none of that is what this post is about....but Happy Mothers Day.

Speaking of heritage, in March I decided to overcome my fear that this fad of shipping your saliva to windowless laboratories to discover your heritage is sending it off to nothing more than DNA repositories for duplicating us in some parallel universe, having 3D printed a batch of skeletons and needing a body and face to plaster on the outside.  (I may watch too much TV -- Westworld, anyone?)

There are a bunch of options: Ancestry, 23 & Me, and Family Tree DNA were listed in an article I read as being most legit.  There are others that apparently are less so.  Not sure why.  I read about those three and got confused and impulsively just went with Ancestry.  Today I got my results!

I've never been pregnant so I don't know how it feels to pee on a stick and see if it's "yes" or "no", but I felt a little thrill over opening my results email, which might be similar.  I had spit in the tube and waited all these weeks for my results.  I was so hoping for a big reveal!  Something completely out of left field! Something no one would ever suspect, something I could claim with familial pride as I learned all about my new and exotic heritage.

Nope.  Nothing I didn't already know.  Here's the breakdown:  41% Great Britain (England, Scotland, Wales); 20% Scandinavian (Sweden, Norway, Denmark); 19% Irish (Ireland, Scotland, Wales); 14% Western European (Belgium, France, Germany, Netherlands, Switzerland, Luxembourg, Lichtenstein).  Then they gave the following "Low Confidence", so just guessing:  3% Italy/Greece; 1% Iberian Peninsula; <1% European Jewish; <1% Finland/Russia.

First of all, this isn't very specific.  I don't know why I expected this, but I thought they would really narrow down the country and then region of that country.  Now I'm going to have to take the entire Great Britain/Ireland tour and not just the Scottish Highlands Tour (where I will fall through a stone circle and meet my Jamie....sorry, Outlander obsession digression).

On the other hand, I am impressed with how my mother's very amateur and pre-internet sleuthing into family history was so on the mark.  I know my maternal grandmother and her sisters still spoke Norwegian on occasion when I was a kid.  They laughed uproariously while doing so, so I can only imagine the bawdy Lutheran humor they were sharing.  My maternal grandfather's family, according to Mom's notes, came over from England in the 1600's but perhaps originated in Wales and there was a hint of French ancestry in his line too.  Mom's maiden name has also been traced to Lowland Scotland.

When you get right down to it, does it really matter?  I'm obviously northern European/Scandinavian, with not a speck of African, Native American, Hispanic, or Asian DNA to be found.  Bummer.  (I'm lookin' at you 3% Italian/Greek, to explain my more flamboyant tendencies -- also about 3% of the time.)

So, now I'm tempted at another go at it with 23 & Me.  They also do medical predispositions.  I'm not sure I really want to know what I may have in store for me, but Hub, ever practical, said if I know then I can take action to avoid.  We'll see.  Mostly I just think maybe my sample was contaminated by the piece of dark chocolate I'd eaten a while before I spit.  The result was a little murky.  Perhaps a more pristine sample will reveal a previously unknown genetic heritage -- or just that I'd better start checking my blood sugar.  Probably.

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

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...©

BIRTHING CREATIVITY

Annually I partner with our Unitarian Universalist Fellowship's music coordinator to create a Sunday service of Music, Movement and Spoken Word.  This past Sunday, Mother's Day, was that service.  I wrote a "testimonial" for it.  Here it is:

Mother’s Day.  I have an ambivalent relationship with this day.  For many years, this day meant a reminder of something I didn’t have and desperately wanted -- children.  

Then, finally, I became a mother through adoption and during the most exhausting of those years of caring for young children I decided Mother’s 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?  

On this 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, gets it wrong most of the time, or who through bad luck, lousy choices, or impossible circumstances seems to love any number of things more than her own children.

For some of us this day is one tinged with grief.  Maybe we have lost a mother, or lost a child, and when everyone else is celebrating, we are sad.  

Any day set aside to honor can also be a day that is just tough to get through, since one size (or one commemorative day) does not fit all.

Yet, mother or not, perfect or not, grieving or not, we can reclaim this day with a shift in focus, using the best of the mother archetype and making 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 you 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 their own way, giving to each just what it needs, enjoying the sweet innocence of give and take between you and this precious creature you love.  

Mothering energy is powerfully present when you plant a tiny seed in fertile soil you 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 your table, in the fullness of the harvest.

Mothering energy is powerfully present when you 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 your creative source to find expression in your art.  Day by day you add, delete, expand, re-imagine, until, finally there is a painting or a poem -- gestated in your quiet, private moments, ready to be shared with the world.  You may never know how many lives you 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 herself, 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, that place of exhausted frustration followed by heart driven re-commitment 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...©