I don’t have children. I was, briefly, a mother to an unborn child once, but that’s another story, a bedrock-shaking one which is woven into the fabric of my bones and which, on the other side of, I am an entirely different person. Since that pivotal time of my life I’ve been on a huge journey into unpicking and beginning to heal my own childhood traumas. And, through this time, I have felt cradled and held by the land here, on which I am blessed to have found my home.
We cannot begin to heal the traumas that are held within our bodies until we feel safe. All traumas carry with them an element of feeling unsafe, vulnerable and unprotected. Trauma is, by definition, an experience that we are not able to handle at the time, so we are unable to protect ourselves from the threat, whatever it is, and we go into overwhelm and find ways to split off the traumatised part of our psyche, to survive. It has gradually dawned on me how very unsafe I have felt in the world, in my own body and mind, in life. No wonder I wasn’t ready to bring another being into the world. If I didn’t feel safe in myself, how could I provide a safe, nurturing space for another?
A million different survival strategies have seen me through and enabled me to live a good life nevertheless. But, somehow, I’ve always been running away from myself, my fear, my traumas. That is, until I wound up here, on this land. My soul unequivocally led me here, I know this. Again, that is another story that involves a caravan, two life-changing trips to Mexico and a man with a heart as big as the world.
Anyhow, regardless of how I ended up here, once I did, I began to experience the tantalising feeling of having the courage to stop running and, instead, put down roots for the first time. It began with buying my first very own home (a caravan), then becoming ‘mum’ to a tiny little ginger furball kitten. Suddenly I was responsible for another warm, breathing being. This was closely followed by taking on an under-nourished and terrified fluffball puppy, mirroring to me my own trauma. And, in the background, a gently unfolding new yet ancient-feeling relationship provided solid ground, an earth anchor of heart connection, love, good times, laughter, music and shared land stewardship.
And, beyond all of these treasures that came into my life, the land itself held me and guided me towards healing. Wow, this land. Gentle as a grassy kiss, strong as a crystal-mountain, nourishing as pure spring water, destructive as a forest-fire. It is all these things and so much more.
Today, as I crouched on the ground, face close to the soil, examining the myriad patterns of green growth in this one small patch, I was struck through by a tsunami of appreciation for the mother energy of this earth, this land, this planet. She holds us all, gives to us all equally, no matter what we do to her, and even when we don’t see or express gratitude for her incredible nurturing strength. I couldn’t be on the healing journey I’m on without her strength and support. I feel safe here with my feet, hands and face close to the earth, I feel at home. I am so bloody grateful for this, for all the incredible gifts in my life. I sent this wave of appreciation into the earth and somehow I knew she felt it. She does what she does regardless but, nevertheless, like all mothers, she blooms into radiance when she is seen and acknowledged for all that she does.
I salute and honour all the mothers today – my own, wonderful mother and sisters, all those other incredible mothers with children out there, those with furballs to look after, those who nurture and tend the land, and all others who express the nurturing, mother energy into the world, in their own unique way. What a gift and a service this is.
frond yoga with Rebecca May 