Reflections on Mother
A few years back, I had one of those moments where I was given a glimpse into why I felt the way I did as a mother; no longer relevant to a world that desperately needed me to do a good job.
Spending a much needed day out with a dear friend, seeing the Sydney art galleries and enjoying some moments that didn’t involve the constant demands of my four beautiful children, we found ourselves talking with an enthusiastic young woman who was doing an arts residency and interviewing artists about their practice. Being an artist myself, yet being extremely time poor, I took whatever occasion I could to re-frame my domestic bliss. When asked about my practice I replied that ‘I make people’. I spoke metaphorically about the creation process, the shaping and moulding in response to the socio-political climate and the element of eco and spiritual activism that I employ. She was riveted!
At least until I could no longer maintain the façade and laughingly conceded that, actually, this was my process of being a mother. At which there seemed to be a sliding door of disinterest move over her face and an abrupt turn away from me and to my friend.
My inkling was confirmed again (I had seen this before), this role which is fundamental to our social fabric, was largely misunderstood, under appreciated and in need of new awareness of the courage and determination it takes to do it well.
Mother.
We all come from one and yet our stories around what ‘mother’ means are as diverse as there are humans.
Mother.
A name that has such weight upon it from our own dance with that role, from those we give that name to and from our great mountainous earth with her beauty and untamed wild nature combined.
There is so much healing that we need around the Mother story. The archetypal view of her is an all encompassing nurture and love, one who gives over her life in service to those that come through. Yet we have lost ties with our ancient mother and so we have broken connection to natural rhythms, to deep listening and to connection with ourselves and in communities.
When we don’t have this thread to follow, we can become lost in the labyrinth of a society where being a mother is devalued or construed with guilt over our inability to provide a purity of love that we still crave ourselves. We can feel called into a tug’o’war. Wanting to give perfectionism of care, carrying everyone’s burdens, tirelessly giving until we give away all the pieces of who we know ourselves to be, and moments of the dark mother, of shame and regret, of never being enough and sometimes even giving up and giving in to our rage, causing devastating collateral damage.
How do we mend this wound within ourselves and our families, our communities and our earth?
We begin to listen.
We begin to connect and we begin to remember.
An ancient remembering that values not only what it means to be a bringer of life but also what it means to need deep roots to anchor and seek nurture, helping us to grow tall and strong like the grandmother gums in our old growth forests.
This begins within ourselves. Choosing to make ourselves relevant and valued (regardless of whether we are ‘mother’ to children, animals, projects or our own hearts). Learning to parent ourselves in all the ways we need, and have always needed, with all the unconditional love and wisdom we often look for outside of ourselves.
When we start to do this, we grow our ability to also care for others with clearer boundaries and the kind of love and wisdom that doesn’t deplete, but guides those we are caring for, to also learn how to find their path to wholeness.
I truly am honoured whenever I have the opportunity of working with a woman in this way; supporting her to find the lost parts and a map back to her truest places. And I am only able to do this because life kept calling, louder and louder until I had to truly listen, connect and remember to do this for myself.
When we anchor ourselves, we anchor our homes.
This then echoes out into our communities and our greater world. If you have a hunger to help our world heal, start at home, start with valuing and healing your own heart. When we don’t value ourselves it is difficult for anyone else to do it for us. When we can come from a heart centred place of power, there is powerful love.
In kindness,
Naomi Wild
Artist-Therapist-Educator
Founder of Newcastle art Therapy
Image - Painting by Naomi Wild