I spoke with my mother today. She is the one who encouraged me to travel in the broader world and paid for it. I remember International Women’s Day in Sri Lanka when I was 19. A march sown in the streets, women and girls singing, calling, chanting, a protest, a convergence, an initiation for me. I came home from a trip visiting seven diverse countries ( India, Sri Lanka, Brasil, Hong Kong+mainland China,So. Africa, Kenya, Japan ) recognizing that “I have no country, as a woman, I belong to the world.” Who is the Original Mother? She began to rise in me, like a seed just tingling in the right conditions. Women and their relationship to nature, the Nature of Everything, surfacing in my awareness to become a map I would follow this lifetime. .. a lifeline, really…an on going moon dance.
Who is the Original Mother? Here, on Earth: ‘teach our children well and educate ourselves,’ says the parent and consummate student within me…learning and relearning the tenderness that enables the actual ability to respond…compassion being the bridge across objectification, intuitive understanding of our interconnectedness through suffering and joy leads to actions/prayers/dances and songs enabling Us :: keep weaving our Motherhood into livingness.
Displacement. With the full moon approaching and spring about to be sprung on the calendar, I ask: how can we reunify / rectify our inherent ability to pulse inside the same rhythms that dance through all nature? How can I make decisions that reflect +support unification internally and then, in my outer world/s? How can the displacement I may feel with my body, bloods, sexuality, health, creative visions, with my ancestors, with the source of where my water and food are gathered, with technology growing as a captivating form of ‘intelligence’, with politics tempting to seduce us to a game of thrones for the sake of intensity, with an amnesia that plants speak, stars are our beloved dead and that water IS LIFE so our tears awaken a sweet grief that can re open the senses and Mind to what matters. Matter or ‘mater’ being ‘mother’…if we/I dam what replenishes and nourishes life then this can only make me/us sick with the repressed knowing: I am not in alignment with how I was made. Another reason to converse with the Original Mother.
Ranting is reasonable today.
With fierce love, V