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Kindness

Before you know what kindness really is

you must lose things, 

feel the future dissolve in a moment

like salt in a weakened broth.

Before you know kindness

as the deepest thing inside,

you must know sorrow

as the other deepest thing.

You must wake up with sorrow.

You must speak to it till your voice

catches the thread of all sorrows

and you see the size of the cloth.

Then it is only kindness

that makes sense anymore,

only kindness that ties your shoes

and sends you out into the day

to mail letters and purchase bread,

only kindness that raises its head

from the crowd of the world to say

it is I you have been looking for,

and then goes with you every where

like a shadow or a friend.

(excerpts from the poem Kindness)

by Naomi Shihab Nye

When the heart weeps

When the heart weeps for what it has lost,

The spirit laughs for what it has found. 

All life is an experiment...

Do not be too timid and squeamish about your actions. 

All life is an experiment. 

The more experiments you make the better. 

What if they are a little coarse, and you may get your coat soiled or torn? 

What if you do fail, and get fairly rolled in the dirt once or twice. 

Up again, you shall never be so afraid of a tumble.

~ Ralph Waldo Emerson

The Mother Heart of God

I love my mom. She was and is a woman that cares and gives of herself freely. She taught me how to give great gifts, how to smile through hardship, and what true sacrifice is for ones family. If anything my mom has showed me what a motherly love should be. In church-y contexts too often we are asked to think of God-the-Father’s love for us – and as much as my father loved me wonderfully – a knowing of a “God-the-Mother’s” love should also, and as much, be considered when knowing and trying to grasp the Divine. My earthly mother’s love has given me a grounding for knowing the embrace of empathetic love, the love that sits and cries with me, that hurts when I hurt, that makes me laugh when I need it most, that’s a little naughty, an adventurer, and a lover of new ways home. Reflecting on my mother’s love, and knowing that the God-within loves me in such a way, has been a freeing realization. 

No matter what type of mother we’ve had I believe every woman finds other mothers to guide her throughout her life at the right time and place. These women may guide us on our journey, or sit with us in the muck of life when we just need a rest from it all. To me these women are examples of a bigger love that exists within the universe.

I have found some incredible mothers along my journey. Some mothers that just listened, some that were direct, and some that showed me through their lives what it means to be a truly free woman (nomadess).

Marilyn was a mother to me while I was in Washington, DC. She sat with me weekly over coffee and bagels while I cried about my financial situation when I had become overwhelmingly in debt. She gave practical advise, wisdom and gently helped me pry open the truth of my situation that I was too ashamed to really see. She was also my first spiritual mother who gave me space to question my childhood beliefs and embrace new concepts.

Marilyn introduced me to my second mother, Barbara. We met in South Africa before I was married (which is quite something considering I met my husband 2 weeks after arriving in SA and married shortly after). Her beautiful mountain top home is a spiritual retreat where every few months I would find the peace and escape from life. Just like her home, she is full of warmth, laughter, joy, and love. Her life is a poem, and her poetic words provide deep pearls of wisdom through colourful stories and ideas. The times I have spent with her have left me encouraged and empowered.

Celia and Diana were mothers to me during my darkest time. A time when false church “mothers” were telling me that I was to be a “perfect wife”, that I needed to “just submit”, to know my “role” as a wife, and to “just love” – basically to not be who I was created to be. These two women, let me vent, let me question, let me be angry. And by giving me that space I began to understand what my true role was to be – it was to be Me: to know myself; to love myself; and to first and foremost give up on being perfect. Their support paved my journey to becoming the real me (which I am still on a very new journey of discovering). I had never really known what I wanted in life, until these two women accepted me for who I deeply was. Perhaps they saw me before I saw myself.

I write this post today, because Celia, a mother not just for me, but also for many other women, and especially to her two beautiful daughters, has finished her earthly journey. Two years ago, during the same week she found out she had cancer I was out of the country on a trip to escape the dark place I was in. I received an email on my birthday from Celia’s daughter to say that her mom was in the hospital, they had discovered cancer, and she had just undergone massive surgery. The email went on to say that Celia wanted to make sure that I knew she was thinking of me on my birthday and to send her love. Through her pain and all that must have been going on, she thought of me.

The Mother-heart of God, the love that the Divine has for us all, it’s in the love that mothers, whether biological or not, have for us. And in a way it is up to us to recognize these genuine mothers in our lives, to heed their advice, accept their embrace, and remember that because of what they have shown us, we will get to be mothers to others some day.

Bloom

Why Nomadess?

Nomadess. Such a fabulous word.  So who is she? 

A nomad is defined as a member of a group of people who have no fixed home and move according to the seasons from place to place searching (for food, water, grazing land). 

A "nomadess" is an evolved nomad. She is searching, constantly learning, growing, traveling (traveling in her thoughts and emotions as well as to different places). Differing from the nomad, she knows that home exists within her. Once she knows her home she can carry on moving and searching. This home dwells within each woman - some of us have searched and found home, and are sitting comfortably by the fire that burns in the furnace, while for some of us still on the path to finding home we are following the smoke that rises above from the burning fire.


Knowing home, she is free to hunt, discover, search, and move based upon season, from place to place (much like Artemis, goddess of the hunt, adventure and the wilderness). What is she searching for if she has found her home along the journey? I think each nomadess is in search of something different, but at the heart of it, she wants to genuinely know what life tastes and feels like, to live in a freedom that comes from knowing herself amongst others. 

It is as a nomadess that I find my place in the world. In my travels I have found myself with camera or pen in hand trying to grasp the soul of the moment or place in an image or word. 


In my current journey I have just discovered the front porch of my home, and I am just beginning to open the door. For others, that I hope will share in this blog, I hope that this space will be one to share of their journeys with those like me that have just recently begun to understand this journey.