How are you mothering yourself?
January is always a time when I miss my Mum fiercely. The weeks that hang between Christmas and her birthday on the 21st feel both long, and longing. It’s a time of year for slow family weekends, wet walks and boardgames by the fire. It’s a time for reflection and dreaming, for conversation over cups of tea and morning cuddles in our dressing gowns.
As I light a simple candle in the darkness of a January morning, I often find myself wondering what Mum would make of this new life I’m creating in the slow, stillness of Somerset. My thoughts linger on all that she will miss in the year ahead – my brother getting married, my work taking a new heart led direction, the world continuing to shift and change beyond recognition.
It's been easy in the years gone by to feel her absence like permanent hold on my heart. The grief casting a sense of numbness, loss and loneliness into nearly everything that I do. Six years on, the grief I feel for my Mum is still acute and agonising. But as I start to slow down and prioritise rest, I can sense a new, subtle layer arising... I long to feel mothered.
Our mother’s womb was the first, and potentially only place, we have felt true safety. What a contrast to the outside world and its fast, demanding pace. In the years since my Mum died, I searched for the spaces that felt nurturing and gentle enough for me to grieve. And yet, it is only as I come to rest in the countryside, away from the previous busyness of London, that I begin wonder why didn’t I first try to create a safe space within myself, within my own home?
So, the simple question I am returning to again and again at the moment is how can I more deeply and simply mother myself? How can I show up to my own soul with the same devotion a mother would give a newborn in the middle of the night? How can I build safety and tenderness into my home?
For me, it’s looked like returning to my daily meditation practice, walking in the woods come rain or shine, long baths with epsom salts, heartfelt conversations with my partner, cacao in the mornings instead of coffee, daily hip stretches and self-massage, gentle TRE (trauma-releasing exercises), time away from my phone, connecting with friends and telling them that I love them, and of course cuddles with Willow (constantly!).
Another practice that I’m just beginning to explore is to wonder - what qualities from my darling Mumma can I call on today? How can I honour her being and remember her beauty? What parts of her can I embody in a legacy of love? What can I let go of on her behalf?
In being with this question on my wet walk this Sunday morning, the message that came to me was very clear. I honour my Mum’s deep sensitivity and willingness to feel, I am inspired by her ability to make people feel welcome, I choose to embody to her capacity to Love. I let go of her feeling that she wasn’t enough, I release her suffering and separation, and I surrender to her (and my) need for rest.
Whether your mother is still with you in the physical or not,
Whether your relationship with her is strong or fragmented,
I ask you these questions…
What qualities from your mother are you grateful for?
What pain or suffering from your mother can you forgive, release and let go of?
How can you bring the mother energy into your life and your home?
How can you mother yourself emotionally, practically and spiritually?
If you’d like to share your responses to any of these prompts, I would be so honoured to bear witness to them.
Wishing you a very gentle Sunday.