WRESTLING WITH MOTHERS DAY
I internally wrestle with the celebration of Mother’s Day each and every year. Firstly, it doesn’t take much scratching of the relentless consumerist veneer to reveal the tokenistic gestures and ugly devaluing of motherhood that still exists. I don’t know about you, but I don’t feel that a discounted wheel alignment adequately honours motherhood. And how many polyester dressing gowns and kitchen appliances does one woman need after all. But I could be wrong?
Then there’s some of the women I work with in Sacred Women’s Way who carry a mixed bag of emotions andahefty variety of wounds stemming from their own mothers. Yes, Mother’s Day can bring up a lot for us. At the broadest level is the soul-rattling acknowledgment that despite often having the best of intentions, mothers can and do mess up — sometimes in life-altering, life-shattering ways. Addiction. Neglect. Family dysfunction. Poor communication. Control. Excessive criticism. There is certainly a variety of pain and gut-punching wounds that we can carry.
I have come to understand though, that our hurt can point us in the direction of those parts of ourselves that are desperately calling out to be seen, felt and healed. Mother’s Day can be one of the greatest vehicles for this healing and the important practice of not letting pain close you, but rather open you and grow you. To sink deeply into the hurt and hold yourself there - until it moves and releases its grip - for as long as it takes.
The other thing, is the simple act to get to know you Mum better. There are incredible and terrible things your Mum has had to endure that we often don’t know about: what your Mum was like before she became a Mum? what has she had to carry from here linage? how does your Mum feel she has failed at being a good Mum? All of this needs to be seen. Our mothers have real internal lives – just like us.
All in all though, and at the deepest level is this…
OUR MOTHERS GAVE US LIFE!
They put their own lives on the line to give us life. And that my dear ones, is reverence and worth honouring even amidst the internal struggles we wrestle with on this day.
As for myself, I look forward to the burnt toast and powdery pancakes that my girls plan to make me for dinner – it’s now a tradition. I will treasure the hand-drawn cards and the papier-mâché ring with the enormous whale on top and I will be certain to smell the top of their heads and breath in the fragrance of each of them.
Bless you all on this day.
Words by DrSarahLantz