Tonight as I was chopping up vegetables for chicken soup, I began to wonder to myself, "Is this Motherhood?"
Easy enough question, but no easy answer.
What is Motherhood?
As I type, I notice my desire to capitalize the "M" in Motherhood, to denote a level of Respect...Regard...for Motherhood, because Motherhood truly is more than a job or a role. It is a Way of Being. It is a Passage of Life. And so I start to wonder....
Perhaps there is a difference between little "m" motherhood and capital "M" Motherhood. I have never thought of it that way. In my search to look deeper into Motherhood and what it means to the deepest part of me, I sense there is a difference.
"m" is for motherhood
My sense is that motherhood is the activity. The role. The duties. The responsibilities. Small "m" motherhood is what it takes to get a human being from point A (conception) to point B (responsible, independent adult). Carrying the fetus, giving birth, breastfeeding, care taking, teaching, role modeling, all motherhood. Perhaps chopping vegetables for chicken soup falls into this category. Small "m" motherhood = chopping vegetables to prepare soup for the family.
"M" is for Motherhood
Could it also be that chopping vegetables for chicken soup is Motherhood? In my gut I say "yes". In fact, it feels as though the question itself will lead to a deeper exploration.
For one absurdly tiny moment, while I was standing there at my kitchen counter chopping vegetables, I felt like a mother. It wasn't because of what I was doing. It was because of what I was being in that moment. I won't be able to describe it with any great detail, because it was fleeting and ever so subtle. It passed through me in an instant. I can't even grasp at it long enough to recreate it and describe it.
The best I can say is that, in that Motherhood moment, I felt In Charge, not in a bossy way, but in a strong way. I felt as though I was creating a masterpiece...a masterpiece not only of chicken soup, but of a healthy energy field for my self and my son. In that moment, I was caring more for the creation of the soup than I was for my self. I was more interested in the chopping as an experience of Creation than I was for how it turned out.
Motherhood, in that moment, was Service. Motherhood was Caring. And Motherhood was Generating a field of love and care through the act of chopping vegetables. At the deepest level that I can access right now, Motherhood was an in-the-moment connection with and expression of the Divine.
Do I hope and pray that that Motherhood experience repeats itself? Of course. The Right of Passage from childhood/young adulthood into Motherhood is a Journey away from Self and toward Service. I've been trudging that Passageway for a while now, always attempting to lean more toward the side of Service, but always ending up back on the side of Self.
Growing up the youngest in a family of four has so much to do with the fact that this Journey has been excruciatingly long. However, seen another way, I have used the story of the youngest as a crutch for an excruciatingly long time. :-)
I will save that for another exploration.
Friday, February 12, 2010
Wednesday, February 3, 2010
Contemplation for the Day
"How many times have I...."
You fill in the blank.
Tonight as I was upstairs getting Noah's pj's and Pull-ups....I did a usual routine of wetting a washcloth for what we have commonly come to call a "Washcloth Bath".
(Definition of Terms: Bath = normal tub routine; SplashBath = in the tub, but no plugging the tub....consists of running water, soap, and washcloth; Washcloth Bath = Noah's favorite because it doesn't involve physically getting into the tub...consists only of a wet washcloth to clean the 'really dirty' areas.)
As I wet the washcloth in the "really-needs-to-be-cleaned" sink, I had this deja vu feeling that I have done this before.....many times before. How many times have I wet a washcloth? A simple contemplative question, but rather profound.
Hmmm. Let's see. Every morning I wet a wash cloth to clean his little bottom (overnight potty training has not been a completed project as of yet). That equals 7 days a week, times 52 weeks in the year, for about three years since the fall-a-way of wipes. Add to that an average of 3 nights a week of washcloth baths over the course of 52 weeks in a year, over about 4 years...equals approximately:
That's a lot of washcloth wetting!
As a mother, we could add up any number of repetitive activities from wiping noses to washing bedsheets (that's a biggie for me since the Pullups don't seem to hold a Noah-size bladder) to pouring cereal. And we could laugh, pout, scream, cry, or smile in the process. Depends on the activity? Depends on the time of day/month/year? Depends on our mood?
Something else to contemplate for another time...
You fill in the blank.
Tonight as I was upstairs getting Noah's pj's and Pull-ups....I did a usual routine of wetting a washcloth for what we have commonly come to call a "Washcloth Bath".
(Definition of Terms: Bath = normal tub routine; SplashBath = in the tub, but no plugging the tub....consists of running water, soap, and washcloth; Washcloth Bath = Noah's favorite because it doesn't involve physically getting into the tub...consists only of a wet washcloth to clean the 'really dirty' areas.)
As I wet the washcloth in the "really-needs-to-be-cleaned" sink, I had this deja vu feeling that I have done this before.....many times before. How many times have I wet a washcloth? A simple contemplative question, but rather profound.
Hmmm. Let's see. Every morning I wet a wash cloth to clean his little bottom (overnight potty training has not been a completed project as of yet). That equals 7 days a week, times 52 weeks in the year, for about three years since the fall-a-way of wipes. Add to that an average of 3 nights a week of washcloth baths over the course of 52 weeks in a year, over about 4 years...equals approximately:
1,716 Times I've WET THE WASHCLOTH!!!
That's a lot of washcloth wetting!
As a mother, we could add up any number of repetitive activities from wiping noses to washing bedsheets (that's a biggie for me since the Pullups don't seem to hold a Noah-size bladder) to pouring cereal. And we could laugh, pout, scream, cry, or smile in the process. Depends on the activity? Depends on the time of day/month/year? Depends on our mood?
Something else to contemplate for another time...
Monday, February 1, 2010
Welcome to Exploring Motherhood
There always has to be a first.
And so, in the name of exploration, I am exploring what it feels like to write a first post for Exploring Motherhood. Nervous stomach, a bit of disassociation, some excitement....and, in the moment, a tinge of sadness. Sad for what? Perhaps letting go of the 'one who stopped me' from writing in the first place.
Yes, there will be mistakes. Yes, I will be frozen with anxiety. Yes, there will be expectations and disappointments. And, yes, there will be things I will desperately want to change.
But, one thing that has never changed for me in all these years was my heart's calling to write.
And so be it. I am writing.
As I explore Motherhood on this first post, I ask "What is Motherhood?" I ask that to myself and I ask that to any future readers. I ask that without intending to come up with an answer. I ask that for the power of the question itself.
I ask that so that I, and perhaps others, can begin to investigate what Motherhood is to them. Not what it is to society...or the society of our parents. Not what it means to the other publications recent or historical. But, what is Motherhood, right here, right now, to me? What is Motherhood, right here, right now, to you?
Perhaps, if I ask that to myself and begin to look for answers, I may be able to distinguish what conclusions I have made about motherhood and what is unknown. Perhaps by asking this question and taking on the maturity of investigating and exploring Motherhood, I might be able to grow my self as a mother at the same time. That is my intention.
I welcome others to join me.
And so, in the name of exploration, I am exploring what it feels like to write a first post for Exploring Motherhood. Nervous stomach, a bit of disassociation, some excitement....and, in the moment, a tinge of sadness. Sad for what? Perhaps letting go of the 'one who stopped me' from writing in the first place.
Yes, there will be mistakes. Yes, I will be frozen with anxiety. Yes, there will be expectations and disappointments. And, yes, there will be things I will desperately want to change.
But, one thing that has never changed for me in all these years was my heart's calling to write.
And so be it. I am writing.
As I explore Motherhood on this first post, I ask "What is Motherhood?" I ask that to myself and I ask that to any future readers. I ask that without intending to come up with an answer. I ask that for the power of the question itself.
I ask that so that I, and perhaps others, can begin to investigate what Motherhood is to them. Not what it is to society...or the society of our parents. Not what it means to the other publications recent or historical. But, what is Motherhood, right here, right now, to me? What is Motherhood, right here, right now, to you?
Perhaps, if I ask that to myself and begin to look for answers, I may be able to distinguish what conclusions I have made about motherhood and what is unknown. Perhaps by asking this question and taking on the maturity of investigating and exploring Motherhood, I might be able to grow my self as a mother at the same time. That is my intention.
I welcome others to join me.
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