I Am My Own Muse
blush blood encrusted
encapsulated like the placenta i ground up like a burger
yet i never saw my own
thick like a french soup
round like a harvest moon on a winter dusk
hard like a rivers edge; jagged and moving
pulsing like the internal clock that beats in all of us
time ticks away
gnawing away at the bones of life
a pool beneath her feet
waiting to be untapped
juices dipped in the cream that dripped from her womb
soft like the angel skin; heated like that moment where time stalls ever so slightly into a gigantic hum so loud it will burn your ears
so painfully poignant you can’t help but to shield your heart
questioning every bit of bits before
knowing everything that comes after
a brown crowned queen flew in the air towards me…
then, they called me mom
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
The topic at my meditation circle today, was death. An unknown that we tend to shy or run away from. The concept of it has pounded me in the gut since I gave birth to my daughter. It could all be over… anytime. We don’t get to choose our end. Being a single mother; this topic has terrified me. Though I am sure it has the same effect on all parents. It is a universal yet supremely personal topic.
An insight came up today for me. It is a trite, well known saying, yet so deep if time is utilized to feel it out. Actually, it was something that usually scared me to really think about. What if today was my last day? What would I do and how would I act with my daughter?
I used to be a bit of a meditation junkie [okay, still am], and mindfulness has weaved its way into my daily living. I am in love with the higher consciousness I feel during and after meditation. It used to be my goal to reach it and keep it going as long after meditation as I could. Maybe I could even make it last forever, I thought.
Now, I understand that I am not meditating to get and stay somewhere. I feel connected to Great Spirit, Source, God right now… and instead of trying to hang on to this wonderful feeling; I am just going to enjoy it, and know there will be more work to be done. Tomorrow, I may wake up and not be able to channel the same mindfulness as today; and that is okay. That doesn’t mean “this mindfulness $#%^ doesn’t work”. I also don’t have to beat myself over the head with a mindful stick until I start being mindful.
It is common to struggle with being mindful during the times that need the most mindful care and attention. It’s a practice, thus becomes somewhat easier to call upon mindfulness with practice. Of course, we are human. Falling off course is where we get to sharpen our bow and arrow, see our progressive growth and perseverance. It is also where we can utilize forgiveness, of ourselves and others. It is where we can form habits of mending anything that went awry in the moment.
Naturally, I look at myself from my daughter’s perspective often. This can be heart wrenching and show me that I need to work on x, y, or z, or it can remind me; I am a damn good mom. She’s basically non-verbal still, but that doesn’t stop our conversations.
Sometimes Mama can be inpatient when we are trying to get out the door. I rush us and that makes us both feel stressed out. If Mommy is ever grumpy, it has nothing to do with what you are doing. You don’t make mommy grumpy. Mommy loves you.
The repairing is the butter of the crust. [y’all I made a pumpkin pie and didn’t use butter in the crust and I AM SO ASHAMED. I have now learned that butter is essential to pie crust…moving on…] The repairing after some damage has been done is what shapes your relationship, is what builds respect from parent to child and in turn teaches them how to repair and how to truly forgive.
I have started taking deep breaths when I start to loose my cool. The cutest thing is now my daughter copies me and breathes with me [I mean, she copies pretty much everything…but it’s still cool!] Mindful girl in the making!
Her witnessing me caring for myself and my stress level by deep breathing is what she will recall when she is in emotional situations as an older kid or adult. It is never too late [or early] to bring up a situation that you feel parental guilt over to your child. I talk to her about her birth sometimes, and sometimes I repair something in the same breath as it happened.
Which brings me to the gold topic of: Talking to your children. How? & Why is it awkward? We want your input! Comment below or shoot an e-mail. Stay on the look out for that post!
Written by: Mary Ehlers