We are not born alone.
This is a myth. And one written by many men of wisdom and women of insight. But there is no truth is this statement. It rings from fear, not from what the Universe makes perfectly clear.
We are born, always, from the Mother and into her arms. As we take our first steps, she provides the platform. As we take our first falls, she is the safe ground we come back to. She gives us all of her, over and over again. Quietly working all the time to find a way to replenish herself. Sometimes despite our lack of appreciation and respect. When we need something and yet feel we have nothing, she provides if not the sustenance then at least the inspiration to go and get it. As we seek to find others to celebrate our new abundance, she smiles knowingly... from her patience and unfaltering faith even when we have failed to see. And when, at the end of this turning of the wheel of all things in this moment that are both beginning and an ending, it is our time to return the soil we are walking upright within to it's place of beginning... again. She receives us still. Embracing us as we rest. Offering us solace and sacred space to reflect and become ready to be born again.
My own mother is a biker babe and a bit of a ... hippy. She can grow anything green or whisper with expertise to anything soft and furry or little and needing.
Sometimes when I was younger. I felt that I wasn't getting what I needed from her. While she was figuring out how to mother 3 girls on her own and still grow herself up... She was a classic flower child mama in a world sometimes unkind to her kind.
But years ago, I realized she gave me all I needed within the first few years of life. By age 2, in fact I think I was set-up just right. For life.
Her nurturing. Her warmth. Her loving of all things natural... instilled in me intrinsically what I rely upon most now... A warm heart and an open spirit regardless of outside circumstance.
As a mother myself now, I tell my children now that I am like a river bank. And they the river. As long as everything as flowing and nothing is flooding, I take a step back and let the rivers run free and wild to grow strong in the sun. Just like my mom did for me, when it mattered most. When the spirit whispered to me, wooing me into relationship with the unseen... She looked on, pleasingly.
- The Joyful Warrior