Leaving Home

“It’s an old tendency of humans to leave home and strike out across a frontier that beckons as a zone of magic, mysticism, inspiration and holy conversion. When we are at loose ends emotionally we tend to set out on a symbolic journey into unfamiliar territory where newly aroused senses allow us to feel vigilant and reborn. In part this is based on the intuition that to change one’s self one must relinquish all that is known and habitual, cast off from the shore of one’s home and the endearing familiarity of everyday life, whose moods and manners one comes to know like an old friend. …we do not always travel to escape our circumstances but to find ourselves. Why must we do that in a foreign place, having become foreign to our past.

...The wilderness may be an actual frontier fraught with danger, or it may be a wilderness of doubt.

from Cultivating Delight, Diane Ackerman

Sometimes people travel to lose themselves, some people travel to find something they've lost, a nostalgia for their childhood town, or a sense of who they once were in younger years. Some people strike out alone, others in groups.

For myself, my mid-life quest or peri-menopausal quest, has taken me from Australia to India, from Panama to Massachusetts, from Vancouver Island to New Mexico. At least once a year, and often twice, I leave my kids in the capable hands of a caretaker plus my husband (or in recent years, up to their own devices) and go on retreat.

Sometimes it's a long journey amidst a group of fellow seekers, sometimes it's a lone ride in a rental car through the desert. Sometimes it involves camping on a natural reserve on the other side of the world and dealing with jet lag as I meditate amongst the Kookaburras, sometimes it's singing with 45 other women in a convent just south-east of Montreal and sleeping in a tiny room.

The important thing is, I get away by myself. That is, without family to take care of. I take some needed time out, because a year-long sabbatical is out of the question until the kids leave home. I'm used to working alone in my home office, typing away at my laptop, but it's not just solitude I'm looking for. It's the mystical sense of finding 'me' when I remove myself from my habits, my daily routines, my ruts, and plunk myself somewhere new, either in a workshop or retreat, and ask questions of where I am, what I'm doing, what I want to do.

The answers have been slow in coming. Sometimes it's about rooting deeper into my essence. Or jumping fully dressed into a swimming pool at midnight. But it always involves a challenge. Driving into a lightning storm on the desert roads of New Mexico with 2 newly found friends was dangerous, exciting and felt like crossing the fear-barrier inside me. Waking up to coyotes howling every night in a pitch dark adobe dwelling was breaking part of the fear-barrier too. Sitting in front of a blank page, facing the sacred Taos Mountain, waiting for a sign about what my work would be, or should be, or what project called to me, I faced the fear inside. Maybe nothing would come out of it. Maybe I had to stall this project of calling myself a writer and go back home empty-handed.

The answers are rolling in, now, slowly but surely. As I continue to learn, read, study, follow my natural inclination towards researching menstruation and menopause, I am finding my subject, or it is finding me.

I continue to quest. I invite you to read some of the entries on this blog, for pieces of my journey. Perhaps they resonate with your pieces. Or not. We each have a quest, and I believe that menopause is a fantastic opportunity for self-knowledge, self-awareness.

So leave home, if need be, as often as you can. And return. With something new you've learned about you.

nameste,
musemother

Opening to Dream time or Liminal Spaces

For ages and ages, women have, by the very nature of their cycles and connection to the moon, enjoyed a special connection to dream time or inner sight.

I believe that the greatest damage we do to ourselves is not allow for enough down time, rest time or dream time, especially around our menstrual cycles. How many women even know when they are going to menstruate? We are so out of touch, we need a calendar to remind us, and we forget to look at where the moon is in the sky. Do you ovulate at the full moon? do you menstruate at the full moon? try getting in touch with where you are in the cycle, and maybe you will open the door to getting in touch with your 'inner dreamer' or inner guidance system.

Alexandra Pope has this to say about the liminal time:

"Liminal spaces are windows of opportunity, a way of liberating our thinking, a place of dreaming, a time for magic, a place to garner soul food and guidance for our life. A place to collect ourselves. It's where we step out of the world, out of our mundane life, into a kind of in between territory. No longer confined by the material world, it's a place where we can travel into the farthest reaches of our selves and the universe.

When a woman moves from one part of her cycle to another she's crossing thresholds: transitional moments she must pass through as she moves from one phase of the cycle to another. Some of these transitions will feel slight, a momentary dip in feeling or rise in energy, sometimes a pain as ovulation occurs. For other women the post ovulation phase can feel intense, not unlike what many experience coming into menstruation itself - the premenstrual angst.

....a woman often thinks she's stupid or clumsy at the premenstruum because she's dreamier, less clear in her thinking and behaves in apparently illogical ways. She's not less intelligent - her intelligence is simply operating in a different way. ...women multi-channel at this time, the way mothers do all the time, operating on many different levels all at once."

She suggests that maybe in the premenstrual phase, we are just 'in between' - neither one role or another - we become more open to the unseen. We can't hold things in, or repress our feelings. All kinds of socially unacceptable sides of ourselves get liberated - like in the time between dreaming and waking, we're not quite sure where we are, vulnerable, and open to the unconscious.

And if during this time you also have PMS or symptoms of discomfort, it's time to pay attention: "Menstrual problems, whether unpredictable moods, pain, fatigue, endometriosis or fibroids, are signaling some overall health difficulty." Your cycle is signalling a problem through its increased sensitivity at that time, not causing the problem.

Wise women slow down and listen to their cycles and stay open to the liminal space, the place of learning and self-growth. You are your own best 'thermometer'. Stay close to the symptoms and ask the deep questions. Use this time as an initiation into yourself, and be willing to explore the inner labyrinth.

What is it you most want to do, or need to receive at this time?

Remember that dreams can be healing, and get lots of rest. "Accommodate the dreaminess", says Alexandra. "Slow down and allow your curiosity to extend your vision of the world. Dreaminess softens the boundaries between our inner life and the outer world, opening us to surprising discoveries." And if you're operating machinery, give yourself frequent short breaks.

Some advice taken from The Wild Genie, by Alexandra Pope, sub titled, The Healing Power of Menstruation.

enjoy the day,
musemother

Who You Are

Who you are is so much more
Than what you do. The essence
Shining through heart, soul and
Center, the bare and bold truth
Of you does not lie in your
To-do list. You are not just
At the surface of your skin, not
Just the impulse to arrange the
Muscles of your face into a smile
Or a frown, not just boundless
Energy, or bone wearying fatigue.
Delve deeper. You are divinity;
The vast and open sky of Spirit
It’s the light of God, the ember
At your core, the passion and the
Presence, the timeless, deathless
Essence of you that reaches out
And touches me. Who you are
Transcends fear and turns
Suffering into liberation
Who you are is love.

Donna Faulds
From Go In and In,

Poems from the Heart of Yoga

Poem for Saturday because it's still snowing here

Drop down into my spider self,
Where the thin tenuous thread
of attention’s tension uncoils, returns.
Let down the rope, thud--
Creak – into a round stone well, damp smell of water
Lower my seeing sense and soften the hearing
(listening, listening)
into silence - under breath, sometimes awake in the night
no sound
but a shrill, cricket-like noise in my ear,
no, more like Mira described: bracelets tinkling
on the ankles of an ant.
That fine-tuned.
Isn’t it my impatience fences me out?

And what of spiders, their delicate legs and slow
descent from the ceiling to where I live, down here?
Why does it frighten me so, to live at the core of this
listening presence?

Or am I just being clever with metaphor – that impulse
keeps me on the surface, when the water I am thirsty for,
lies deeper…Shh, quiet –

Thoughts slow down, I pay attention,
So careful now not to miss a thing – it’s not
what I tell myself in words – the thing is smaller,
finer that that – I am without sleep, and guidance
comes walking in the door,
I read – ‘poetry as being there’--
Ping! Quest, isn’t it?
Hmm, a life puzzle or maze
unsolved day-by-day, turning corners, sniffing my way
by intuition, even if the mouse doesn’t see the cheese, another sense
tells her it is there – close your eyes, feeling will guide you,
trust the spider sense,
in the tea kettle voice of your alarm
Or the softened touch, pillow soft tears –

Love of words has taken me this far – can I let them go, now?
Who speaks, who listens? No, feels.
Ego crunches underfoot --mask fallen, paper mache facsimile of me
Stepped on! Ouch, then smiles under tears.

Broken.
Open.

Mothering Teen Daughters

In her book Mother-Daughter Wisdom, Dr Christiane Northrup talks about The School of Friendship or how adolescent girls manage their emotions.

It seems like the minefield of high school and nastiness from girlfriends can make being a teenaged girl feel like being a contestant on Survivor. Am I going to be voted out today, or can I still play the game?

Northrup suggests that brain development and hormonal changes bring up "raw uncensored emotions" like anger or hostility. There is no difference between what an adult feels and an adolescent, it's just that they haven't learned to censor them yet or cover them up with food, alcohol or marijuana. Unacceptable feelings also get hidden in the body and come up as illness.

"Adolescence is a small window in time in which an entire peer group -- all of whom are going through huge physical and emotional changes at slightly different rates-- is thrown together in school to learn the social and vocational skills they will be applying throughout their lives. This process started in childhood, of course. But now, the addition of hormonal urges and sexuality make things much more intense. (just like animals in the wild, they pick on people who are different, through herd behavior). "some of it, however, is attributable to the culture we live in."

"I believe adolescent female nastiness is a natural consequence of growing up in a patriarchal society in which a girl's needs for self-development have not been taken seriously until fairly recently. In hierarchical social structures like patriarchy, it has been observed that those with the lowest status tend to fight amongst themselves for the attention of those who have more power than they do. Alice Walker once remarked that the slaveowners knew very well how to keep the slaves in their places -- just keep them fighting amongst themselves. ...Likewise, if we as mothers and women continue to believe that adolescent girls are just naturally nasty, moody and difficult, then we cannot be of much help to them as they negotiate this critical entrance into the adult world of expanded self-expression and creativity."

(and if we haven't worked on our own stuff, how can we guide them past the places where they get stuck?)

Mother-Daughter Wisdom, Dr. Christiane Northrup

Maybe we shouldn't pressure our daughters to be 'nice' all the time. Maybe the indirect back-stabbing and gossipping comes from not being encouraged to speak up. Maybe we should teach our daughters to name this behavior: shunning girls who don't fit in, making fun of girls with the 'wrong' clothing or hairdo's, talking behind girls' backs, etc. Stop the hurtful behaviour one girl at a time, one mother at a time. "That's how a culture changes." (adapted from Northrup's chapter on friendship)

See Northrup's book for some tips on how to help your daughter negotiate girlfighting (validate your daughter's experience; update your own views; point out the real motivation behind the Queen bees of the world; accept your daughter's humanity and that you may not be able to remove the influence of the queen; don't allow your daughter to take it out on you; keep talking and keep your ear to the ground; be her mother, not her best friend; acknowledge and support your daughter's innate ability to deal with her own life).

So, mothers and daughters, express yourselves with love and joy. Speak up and be willing to grow wise.

this wisdom for mothers book is a real treasure, and too lengthy to quote more from,
so I recommend you read it for yourself,

musemother

winter and flu time

everyone I know has or has had the flu. everyone's kids,except mine, with high fevers and coughs.

I suffered through it last week, for four days, and then, lo, the fever lifted and the headache disappeared that had kept my head in a vice.

when you're sick, nothing else matters.

you do whatever it takes to get over the 'bug'. rest, drink tea, hot lemon and honey, ginger tea, echinicea and golden seal, oil of oregano, gelsimium, whatever remedies like chicken soup have been passed down, garlic, cayenne and honey, you take it all,

but the flu lasts the number of days it's going to last

the hot tea helps, sleeping helps, and staying indoors

I'm finally better, and off to sing this weekend with the Sweet Adelines and a coach, at a convent in Chateauguay....

hope those who can, will jump out and go skiing in this beautiful winter weather

and remember, if you're sick, to lay low, do less, don't push yourself :)

if there is anything I have been up against this week, it's the guilt of 'busy' people who want to run right over their illness and keep on going, keep working, studying, singing, whatever.

Don't let the pushy people get to you,

rest,
luv
musemom

The woman without hands

"The woman without hands spoke to me about a life severed from the power to grasp one's deep life as woman, to hold onto one's inherent power. One day that summer while browsing in a small shop, I happened upon an illustration of the Virgin Mary drawn in detail except for one thing. She had no hands.

As I looked at the print, I realized that over the long course of church history, Mary had been the closest thing Christianity had to an archetype of the Feminine Divine. for many she filled the vacuum in the divine image and came to represent the feminine 'side'. She was referred to as Queen of Heaven, Lady All Holy, Sovereign Mistress of the World."

from The Dance of the Dissident Daughter, Sue Monk Kidd

A woman's journey from Christian Tradition to the Sacred Feminine

musemother

Interview with Bella, Part 3 Power in the Passage

Part 3

Musemother: Do you think women who are not yet mothers should hear our birth stories? Or is it part of the rite of passage to ‘not know’? Some women are afraid to give birth after they hear the particular challenges in childbirth, tearings and rippings and long painful labours. What do you think? And what do we tell our daughters?

Bella: I think there is a time and place for women who have not given birth to hear birth stories. Though they will not truly “know” as in initiation, they can serve as a way of opening possibilities for all the varied ways of giving birth. To tell our daughters and sisters and friends our own birth story is to honor the connection of all birthing women everywhere, that we do not do this alone. Every birth is unique and it is also true that we can find strength and support in knowing that as we birth, so too have the women who came before us and so are the women all over the world birthing with us as well. This holds much power for some women.

Perhaps the question then becomes, not if, but how. Different cultures have different traditions. Here in America at least we seem to have a tradition of recounting horror stories to women at their own baby shower. Along with presents and cake and punch, we tell bits and pieces of our own birth stories and those of our friends and neighbors and they are likely to include a level of warning or danger or misery. The woman who labored for 72 hours or who tore so bad she never really recovered or had a mean doctor or had the baby in the car. Or stories our told about orgasmic births and the underlying message is that if only this woman will give birth the “right” way, she too will have such an experience. It is disconcerting to say the least.

So, how do we tell our birth stories to the women in our lives in a way that does not set out a certain way they must give birth or a way that threatens them with everything that could wrong, but rather offers women a glimpse behind the mystery of childbirth? I would offer that birth stories be shared as a hero’s journey, as I wrote of above. When we tell women birth stories in this way, we are not telling them how to do it or not do it, nor are we saying it is such a complete unknown all she can do is be afraid and wait. We are rather saying, “Here is the labyrinth I walked, the journey I embarked upon. It is sacred and it is personal. May you find here and take from my words what will serve YOU, as you walk your own path, cross the threshold of your own labyrinth, and in doing so join all the women walk not for you but with you.”

Musemother: I experienced pregnancy and childbirth as a great awakening. I did not always want to be a mother, having been little mother to seven younger siblings. However, once out of the labor and childbirth with my son, I wanted to crow to the world! And nominate every one of my sisters-in-law for sainthood, in fact every woman who had given birth. How would you describe the spiritual aspect of birth as a rite of passage?

Bella: I think I have touched upon this in some of the other questions.
I will say here, that what Spirit and even spiritual, means is very different for different women. For some women giving birth is a deeply spiritual experience and they would describe it as such. For some women their faith in a god or higher power plays a large role in their experience of birth and offers support and strength. As a doula, I have come to hold deep respect for the many faith traditions that guide a woman in labor and childbirth. And I have come to experience even that nameless sense of spirit. My work with women is to explore what spirit means to them and to explore ways this might bring power and comfort and meaning to their experience. And yet, some women are not comfortable with such terminology and shy away from birth as spiritual experience. I honor this as well.

My own personal feelings are that birth has a spiritual aspect and yet not always in the ways that this word is assumed to mean. For example, a home birth is not more “spiritual” than a hospital birth, a vaginal need not be more “spiritual” than a cesarean birth. “Spiritual” need not be divided from the earthly matter of blood and the body. A spiritual birth is not one in which a woman transcends such things but rather these very elements of labor and childbirth become the means through which she herself is born. This is a return to a more Feminine way of viewing spirituality. It is not about transcendence towards the sky, but a descent into the earth where life begins.

At its core I would say that birth is spiritual in that it is a transformation. A woman is still herself once she has given birth and yet she has also become entirely new. She has become the bearer of life. Whatever one’s personal feelings and beliefs are about Spirit and spirituality, that we can as women grow and birth life takes us beyond the realm of our understanding and into the terrain of mystery.

Musemother: It seems there is a very loving and accepting way of accompanying a woman in labour and childbirth being described by Pam England and on your web site. How can one reestablish a sense of the sacred in women’s bodies? It seems that we are so far away from ourselves and far away from trusting our bodies. So much complaining during pregnancy, so much fear surrounding childbirth.

Bella: As a doula, accompanying women in childbirth, my work is not to show her the way. It is not within my realm or power to reestablish for another woman a sense of the sacredness in women’s bodies, namely her own. This being said, many women who are pregnant and preparing for birth begin to ask themselves these very questions. They do not feel they trust their body and do not know how. They feel disconnected from that part of themselves that they sense will be needed to give birth. And so such matters are often explored together.

Perhaps we are not so far away from ourselves as we feel. We are always here, living in our bodies. Though we may feel we do not “know” our bodies, they remain present. So, perhaps the question then becomes, how do I listen to my body that is already present and communicating with me? How each woman goes about this will be different. Pregnancy itself can be a time of awakening where we learn to listen to subtle changes and shifts, feel our baby move inside of us, feel tethered to the earth in our bodies that seem to take over and do their own thing. This experience of feeling more fully “in” our bodies during pregnancy can ripple out way beyond the weeks of gestation.

It is also worth exploring what we mean when we say we should trust our bodies. To be unsure of yourself and your body is normal. Many women who claim to trust their bodies and therefore have nothing to worry about, assume that trusting their bodies means their birth will unfold they way they want. That if they trust their bodies they will birth vaginally or without interventions or in water or at home. If these things do not happen then the message becomes their body has failed them. There is an environment of guilt and shame over the body that women breathe in every day. And every time we tell a woman that if she trust her body she will be promised a certain outcome, that if she does enough prenatal yoga she will receive the birth she has planned, we feed the judge and activate the victim. It is not her body that is the problem but the voice within her that is making judgment over what her body has done or failed to do.

What are we trusting when we say we are or want to trust our bodies?

Perhaps our bodies are sacred in part because of their vulnerability. We are both remarkably resilient creatures and also our bodies will at some point, whether in childbirth or at a different time, break down or not do what we want. When trusting the body comes to mean believing the body is more than human, we can unconsciously breed distrust.

Trust is not to be confused with control. We do not control birth. We can influence it and work with it, but we do not control it. When trusting our bodies comes to mean if you only trust your body you will control how your birth goes, we can so quickly become rigid. And birth requires surrender, yielding, letting go. We soften as our cervix softens and thins, expand as our body expands to push a baby out. Giving birth is about opening and it is difficult to open when we are set on controlling outcome.

So perhaps trusting our body is to trust that our bodies will and do speak to us, even if it is not what we want to hear. That our body carriers such wisdom and compassion in its intricate ways of seeking life. That while our body is giving birth it is not the only factor influencing the birth. Given all the factors, those seen and unseen that are playing out in childbirth, we can trust our bodies to respond and communicate to us that which is needed in any given situation. I believe women want to trust themselves, not so much that their bodies will perform on command, but that whatever happens she will not abandon herself but remain present to herself. To know that you were fully present for yourself without judgment, doing whatever you needed to do in any given moment, is to nurture trust, which is another way of saying love.

Musemother: How does a woman reestablish contact between her self and her own inner knowing so she can experience birth as a rite of passage, a spiritual journey? Are there steps a woman can take to begin?

Bella: Come to my class. In all seriousness, there are many processes I do with parents in my classes and my doula clients, many of which I learned in my training with Birthing From Within, and they are too involved to write here. The book and Keepsake Journal explore many of them and do not require one be in a class.

Exploring her own deepest question is a place to begin. What does SHE need to know to give birth? This can then offer a guide for her, an avenue for exploring her own needs and fears, her assumptions about birth and from where she will find what is required to birth her baby.

I also encourage women to look at how they are already living their lives. This will tell them how they will give birth. A woman’s own inner knowing is not reserved for only momentous experiences. How does she make decisions in her daily life? How does she cope when things are difficult or painful or not as expected? What does she find to be of comfort and from where does she call for strength? Look no further then your pregnancy, then now. How did you know you were pregnant? From where does this knowing arise? How did you choose your care provider? And how did you know this was the choice for you? When a woman can begin to see that she already does know, finding her own knowing is not a quest for something out there but rather calling upon that which is fully present in her even now.

Musemother: What would you say to a woman who was unsure of herself and nervous about the coming birth?

Bella: I would say Welcome. Of course you are unsure of yourself and nervous. You’ve never done this before. And even if you have given birth before, you never given birth to this baby. It is always new. And as such, an unknown.
Our fear is not the enemy. And telling ourselves to not be afraid only pushes it underground where it grows and acts out unconsciously. Pam England has said the worry is the work of pregnancy. It can motivate us to learn things we may need to know. It can also invite us to explore our own beliefs about ourselves.

A great many fears are not as much about the thing itself, but about what we think it would mean about ourselves. That if we have to be induced we have failed. That if we have an epidural we are not strong. That if we freak out and lose control we are crazy and others will disapprove of us. So, by exploring these fears we get to hear our own negative beliefs about ourselves and offer them compassion. The judgments are not “bad”. They are simply the way we have learned to protect ourselves. And yet, the words of this judgment are not truth. When we can embrace that we are, always, enough, we begin to mother ourselves. The Mother awakened, we are now living ourselves that which we have to offer our baby.

The thing we fear may or may not happen. But it need not have the power to tell us who we are or are not.

Musemother: What has been the greatest lesson for you from working as a doula with birthing mothers?

Bella: That there is no right way to give birth, to mother. I have seen birth unfold in so many ways, in so many environments and situations and the things that one might think would create for the “perfect” birth do not play such a big factor in determining a woman’s satisfaction and feelings of power in childbirth. There is simply no right way. Women are amazingly powerful and what this looks like is new every time.

And as a doula, it is not my job to make anything happen or to promise any outcome. There are doula who claim this. I am not one of them. My gift is to hold the space as sacred and to bear witness to your own unfolding, to be a face that sees and is nothing more or less then fully present. This is your birth. I cannot do it for you. No one can. You alone must birth this baby, make this descent, enter this labyrinth. You are the warrior here, the hero. And you are not alone. In your moment of fear I will sit with you. In your moment of triumph, I will sit with you. And when, after it is all over and you are trying to unravel the many layers of what took place, I will be here. I will sit with you and welcome you into your own knowing, your mother self, your rite of passage in which you have been in your own way, transformed. --END--

Thanks to you, Bella, for enlightening us on your work, and on the value of Birthing from Within, even for us menopausal women, who are busy birthing our new selves, going through this descent into the labyrinth.

namaste,
musemother

Interview with Bella, part two Birthing Ourselves

see also http://beyondthemap.blogspot.com/ Bella's blog



Musemother: Pam England describes the woman giving birth or heroine’s journey as a “descent into the unconscious and the Dark Feminine”. Can you tell me what you think this means?


Bella: Pam England has a wonderful journal on Inanna’s descent which speaks to this, and I highly recommend it. She leads workshops on this as well. Though I cannot speak for her, I have learned much from her and have explored this aspect of birth and women’s ways of knowing through many avenues.


The Dark Feminine is that which is hidden in the shadows, those parts of self we have silenced or ignored. Our shadow sister may be aspects of self we find unattractive or unpresentable, and are likely those energies within us that do not fit with the image of ourselves that with which we are most comfortable. They are different for each woman. For one, it may be that she requires herself to be sweet and good and fears that part of herself which is angry or defiant or impatient. For another woman it may be her vulnerability that she has denied. She may be highly competent and efficient, capable of asserting herself and being in charge and she has submerged that part of herself that needs to lose control and come unhinged, that which is messy and wild. What makes the Dark Feminine dark is not what is found there in and of itself, but that it has been banished to the underworld and not been invited into our consciousness.


Giving birth is a descent. We abandon old ideas of ourselves and call upon all our resources. We find we must give up things, even those we cherished or thought of as requirements. The very nature of active labor and particularly what is called transition is a state of primal and unconscious work. There is a hormone haze that takes over and a woman is not using that part of her brain which can articulate or think things through. She is accessing the right side of the brain, where her knowing is more instinctual and she is following her body rather then directing it. For every woman there comes a time in her labor when she must cross a gate of great doubt. It may be in the beginning when contractions start and she feels terrified. It may be right before she pushes her baby out. It may be when she chooses to have a cesarean birth. But in this moment, she fears she cannot do what she needs to do. And yet, she does.



It is very often in this moment that she meets the Dark Feminine in herself and must call upon and welcome that which she has found unacceptable. So she finds herself moaning and crying and losing it. Or she finds herself using her voice and telling everyone to leave her alone even though she is not being “nice”. Her own inner judge was the one telling her she could not be these things. And yet, they are what is required to birth her baby. So she metaphorically dies to the old divided self and claims her shadow sister as part of her.


It is not good or bad. Such categories have dissolved. It is love in both its light and dark and the power of claiming herself and owning her full power. It is the work of our conscious self to harness our instincts, to integrate our many faces and to live with compassion and strength. And yet we cannot integrate that which remains hidden in darkness. Giving birth can invite us to descend, to meet our shadow sister and know her as our very selves.


Musemother: What rituals, if any, can help a woman prepare for her own heroine’s journey? And what role does her husband or partner play in all of this?


Bella: I share many different ideas for rituals in my classes. However, I cannot take credit for them. For a great starting place I recommend the book Birthing From Within along with The Keepsake Journal that accompanies it. Mother Rising by Cortland, Lucke and Miller Watelet is also a wonderful resource.


One thing I will note is that there is benefit in having ritual for the mother, the partner and for them together. The birthing mother’s partner, whether he be the father or another mother have their own experiences. Though not giving birth they are being birthed as new parents. They are more than “coaches”; they are parents engaging their own rite of passage. And ritual can offer a means for honoring this.


Ritual can be a catalyst for consciously engaging that which is beyond the realm of what we can know or really plan for. While some women choose to have more formal ceremony or ritual, anything can become a ritual when we bring our intention to it and mark the space as sacred.


Musemother: “ But to complete the heroine’s journey, the hero must answer the last Call. She must integrate the clarity and power she went into the journey to find. That is not enough—she must also bring it back to the world in a form so that it can be a gift to others. Perhaps it manifests as words, images, or some other way. What she has gained she must give to others.
Remember, the hero made the journey, not for herself, but for others.

From Birthing from Within, Pam England, her web site.


What do you think the gift of childbirth that can be shared with others is? (from quote above)


Bella: The gift that each woman has to offer from her journey is unique. No birth is the same and so whatever it is a woman discovers in her process, it is her own offering, her wisdom and beauty, her gift.


If there is a gift of childbirth, beyond that of the unique gifts each woman possesses and offers, perhaps it is that it holds within it an offering of what it means to birth anything in this life, whether that be babies or words or paintings or relationships or new ways of understanding. We can learn from the quiet receptiveness of a pregnant woman, the gestation that takes place in darkness, in the womb. A woman may do certain things or abstain from certain things to encourage the life growing inside her. But she does not really grow it herself. All on its own it grows. In childbirth, much of the work involved is not in “doing” but in surrendering to what wants to be born from us. We follow more then lead. And yet this is not a helpless state, a powerless way of being. For life itself is coming through us.


As we look at other areas in our life, those things that are seeking to be born, we might learn from the hidden nature of life taking root, of the yielding required in childbirth, of the power in letting life do what it wants to do, which is be born and live.


Musemother: In each journaling class I have lead, we have a class where we share our birth stories. Some women relish telling every detail; some would rather forget. Is that part of the journey, the retelling?


Bella: Having a safe place in which to tell our birth stories is a part of the journey itself. It can be one of the ways we mark the Return or Ascent in our journeys. Women often recount the physical particulars of what happened and yet we also need a place to share our birth stories as the hero’s journey and awakening of the Mother, and to have them honored as such.
I lead Birthing From Within birth story workshops and circles. It is important here that all present are practicing deep listening. It is not a space in which we share advice or compare notes. It is also a space in which women are invited to share their own birth stories as a hero’s journey.


For some women, their birth was a joyous occasion and they are filled with gratitude and awe. Women often recount the physical particulars of what happened and yet we also need a place to share our birth stories as sacred. It is not casual, not about comparisons. It is not just about the events that happened, but her own story of descent and rebirth. She seeks to be honored as the returning birth warrior she is.


For some women, their birth story is painful and they fear revisiting that day. If their birth was traumatic, to re-tell it can unintentionally serve to re-traumatize. A woman who experienced birth trauma is as fully a birth warrior as she who speaks of her magical birth. Yet, to rush to this place can serve to discredit a woman’s loss. In these situations, women need a safe place in which to not just tell their story but to grieve. Simply rehashing what happened does not in and of itself heal. To have space in which feel feelings we could not feel because we were in the moment of survival can be a first step. I do not take this lightly.



In birth story circles, there is no commenting on her story. No questioning what she did or offering advice for how she might have done things different or how she should cope or heal. Being present for another’s pain can be uncomfortable for many. The impulse to calm or soothe is often more about the listener then the speaker. Most judgmental comments given to a woman who experienced birth trauma are not about her or her story at all, but rather the listener’s desire to assure herself that this would not happen to her, that she could control such events from taking place in her own life. So firstly, we must listen without rushing in to fill the silence or sorrow, without comparing it to our own experience or offering advice. Just being fully present is enough. When we go to this place the humanity and dignity emerge in all the stories. In the silence there is true connection.


Celebrating, honoring and grieving, and often times these all exist within a woman’s story, is powerful in its own right. There is also a gift we give to ourselves in the very way we tell our birth story. I invite women to tell their birth stories as a hero’s journey. The events are what they are. And yet, how were they experienced, and how does she honor her journey as that of a hero and warrior? Before beginning the time of sharing birth stories I set the space as sacred and invite them to ask themselves questions as they sit with their memory before beginning to speak. When did you first hear the Call? What did you have to give up to enter childbirth? At one moment did you feel like giving up and turning back? What did you do next? How did you know to do that? What part of yourself did you discover in birth that you did not know was there? What did you have to do that you did not know you would have to do in order to birth your baby? What moment in your birth were you brilliant and powerful? What do you know now that you did not know before?


The telling of birth stories is one of the ways a woman can integrate her experience and find in its telling her mother self awakened. In inviting birth stories to be shared as warriors returning from battle, hero’s returning from their quest, we offer women the dignity of their experience and the power of claiming their birth as Mother. There are many places where a woman will be asked to recount the birth of her baby. We need to also have spaces in which to share our stories of birthing ourselves as we birthed our child.



to be continued with final part 3

Interview with Bella Part 1

Listening to Body Wisdom, Birth as Transformation and Rite of Passage

Interview with Bella Hoskins, Doula and writer: Our conversation begins with the moment of childbirth but encompasses all three stages of initiation into the Feminine Mysteries: menarche, pregnancy and childbirth, and menopause. I am thrilled to have discovered Bella’s blog, and her work with Birthing from Within and Birth Story Circles. Bella’s is a doula, childbirth mentor, storyteller, myth maker and weaver of words. She has been supporting women in pregnancy, birth and postpartum for the past seven years, honored to bear witness to each woman's unfolding as she gives birth to herself as mother. See her blog at http://www.beyondthemap.blogspot.com/, web site: http://www.chicagobirthrite.com/

Musemother: In a world where masculine principles of competition and success reign, it is hard for a modern woman who has spent her life preparing for a career to suddenly realize she wants to be a mother. And then have to deal with the lack of female companionship once she decides to stay at home with her baby. Our feminine life processes often seem foreign to us.
What knowledge are we missing about pregnancy and childbirth, apart from the medical knowledge we get in pre-natal classes?

Bella: In an energetic or archetypal sense, childbirth is the embodiment of the Feminine. And for some women, this can be a shift, an awakening of long buried parts of themselves. I do not view this as knowledge that is missing, as much as it is an innate knowing which may have became buried or disowned, forgotten or devalued. Childbirth and motherhood can then offer the opportunity for a re-awakening or reclaiming of that which has always been.

What every woman needs to know to give birth is unique to her. In her book Birthing From Within, Pam England speaks of this, that within each woman resides her deepest question. It is not something that can be found in a book or answered by a care provider, as it resides within the woman herself. Only she knows what she needs to give birth. Digging deep to unearth this question and then living with the question is the work of preparation, far more so then having all the answers.

In the end, we cannot truly know or be prepared for birth, at least not in the ways our culture has promised. There are things that cannot be learned but only lived. Preparation has more to do then with opening oneself to dwelling freely in the unknown than in attempting to manage and control outcome. Having life grow within our womb in which we cannot see, all of the letting go that comes with pregnancy, this shows us the way.

Musemother: I love to hear birth described as a ‘hero’s journey’. Joseph Campbell said this about motherhood and I firmly agree. Women face the greatest challenge in giving over their bodies to another life. Then the further sacrifice of putting another life’s needs ahead of their own for many years. Is that what the initiation into motherhood is? About the need for self-sacrifice?

Bella: The very nature of initiation is that it is not something to be known until you have arrived there. Still, we look to those who have been initiated and ask them what it is they know. Not so that we might get to avoid the process, but so that we will know we are not alone when our time comes.

And what is this initiation into motherhood? Self-sacrifice is part of it. As women our bodies are quite literally inhabited by another and this begins what will be a life long process of a giving of ourselves to and for our child. Though many paths can bring us here, mothering is one path in which we are asked to often set aside our own small wants and desires for the sake of another. And yet, I am hesitant to suggest or to feed the climate of dichotomy we live in, a combative relationship that pits mother against child. This is the perspective that says we can tend to our own needs or our child’s, but only one can win out. This has been the seed of much mother guilt and it is helpful to neither mother nor child.

To lose old ideas of self and even some things we once thought of as requirements, such as sleep or privacy any time we want or our notions of freedom, can be a difficult adjustment. And yet the path to surrendering our small selves is where we discover a new idea of freedom, which is freedom from living only to fulfill our own wants and desires, and finding ourselves in love or service. This is not the same as sacrifice that turns mothers into martyrs. If a mother “loses herself” in the name of giving to her child, abandoning her own needs as if they do not matter, then from where is she discovering the resources needed to listen and respond to her child, from what Source does she find the capacity to give?

I would say that the initiation into motherhood is what we see in all such rites of passage: the death of the old self so a new self may be reborn. In giving birth and becoming a mother a woman will lose the self she once was and knew and assumed was “me”. Practical life becomes rearranged and there is a new orientation. Her daily life will become quite different then it was before. And yet, it is more. Giving birth offers the opportunity to awaken as mothers to our child and ourselves. It is not just that we will now sacrifice for our child, but that we now we know we have what it takes to make such sacrifices. When a woman has seen the lengths to which she will go to birth her baby and care for him/her, she discovers within herself the capacity to offer this same love to herself. When a woman has descended and embraced her shadow sister, when she has found within herself “She who knows what to do when she does not know what to do”, she arises not as martyr but fierce warrior. She brings this warrior love to her child, herself and the world.

Musemother: How can we understand giving birth as one of the 3 ‘initiations’ or transformations that women experience from menarche to menopause? Is it helpful for women to understand this deeper significance to giving birth?

Bella: What each of these rites share, beyond the biology of changing hormones, is that they are an entrance into a new self. They all require that we lose what we once were in order to fully enter into what we will become. A girl getting her first period has lost something of her childhood as she moves toward becoming a woman. This is a cause for celebration and it also involves a loss of innocence. They come together, the life cycle found in each initiation. When a woman gives birth she must release who she once was in order to birth her mother self. This is the same even if one has other children. Now, she will no longer be the mother of one, but the mother of two, or many. And the loss is mingled in with the new life.

When a woman begins menopause and enters her power as a crone, she is leaving behind her ability to give birth to children, and it symbolizes the loss of youth and fertility in many ways as well. And yet, she is now free for other creative ventures, for creating and bearing life in ways a young mother cannot, as she is busy with the work of mothering young children. (Many great writers wrote their masterpieces in menopause.) Again, the old self dies so the new might be begin.

The other similarity between these three initiations is that though marked by events, they are very much a process. Seeing it as such can be helpful for a woman in understanding the deeper significance of birth.

Menarche, motherhood and menopause are each their own labyrinth. There is a crossing the threshold that begins the journey. This could be seen as getting your first period, giving birth, or the absence of your period. We often stop here, assuming that this is all there is. When really, menarche is a beginning and it is a process of moving from childhood to young womanhood. Giving birth may place your baby in your arms and yet we become mothers not in one moment or event or day.

Menopause, even when sudden through something such as a hysterectomy, is a passage of the waning of hormones and the internal shifts that accompany this experience. We say a woman is going through menopause or that an adolescent is going through puberty. We acknowledge it as a transition, a transformation marked by an event that in reality must unfold over time. There is wisdom here for mothers. There are the weeks of pregnancy which is a process, and so too is becoming a mother a process, a journey we are walking as though walking a labyrinth.

When walking a labyrinth, one cannot often see where she is going. There are turns and curves and though the center can often be seen, we do not know exactly how we will get there. So we do what we can, which is always enough, and that is take one step after another. Only one step at a time. You may feel you are close to the center, only to realize the path is taking you back out to the perimeter again. One step at a time. You cannot get lost. You may feel confused or unsure. But unlike a maze, there are no dead ends. So you take one step at a time. Arriving at the center of the labyrinth marks the completion of something. You are now most definitely not a child but a young woman. You are now not pregnant but a mother.

You are now not going through menopause but a crone. And then we walk back out and must circle and wind back through the labyrinth. This is when we are integrating that which has taken place within us. We are bringing what we learned and weaving it into our story, creating a life from our transformation. After giving birth, this is when we learn how to be mothers and discover our new mother self in relation to the rest of our life. This is the Return of the hero’s journey.

to be continued

thanks for dropping by,

musemother

mothers and daughters

I was at the osteopathy's yesterday; my daughter had an appointment but didn't feel well (with her period) so I went in her stead. My neck and shoulders badly needed realignment.

After a wonderful treatment, deep rebalancing of everything in my head and neck, down to the bottom of my spine, we had a talk about K's period pain.

Since I am doing research around the spiritual aspects of menstruation and menopause, I'm reading up on what affects PMS and period pain, but I don't have any periods now myself. I do know that there can be structural causes, and the osteopath has helped K in the past with reducing the cramping from 3 days to one. There are also energy causes.

6 months later, she's due for another treatment. And maybe there is stuck energy from generations past affecting her. There has been some sexual abuse in our family tree, and sometimes healing one generation can affect future and past generations - releasing energy from whichever chakra it's swirling in.

So I'm going to look into this. The osteo said, K is not allowing herself much pleasure in life (and me neither). She said, you both have the 'duty' thing down pat, but what about having fun and relaxing? Perhaps you can't tell K to do yoga or meditate (not cool at her age, cause mommy does it) but you can bring more 'pleasure' into life in other ways. She also said, if you heal yourself, the energy between you will shift, and things will improve for her too.

that is a hopeful thought, and alongside my prayers for her not to grow up a tense uptight person, it's what I intend to look into,
nameste,
musemother

New year's update

We have never been buried in so much snow! Even in what to some of you looks like the 'far North', and to some others looks like the 'south', we have been having skimpy winters past 10 years. I have never seen my back yard this overflowing with snow, the hedge with a huge white beard and icicles.

My holidays went by too fast. Started with a musicians bash - old and young - jamming the night away and a potluck feast. Thanks Sylvie and Andre. Then a fancy Christmas Eve supper in the Laurentians with friends and kids. Christmas Day supper with family (in-laws). Next day left on the all night train to Bonaventure with the whole group of out-laws including nieces nephews and their prospective girl/boyfriends (23 of us in all). Sleeping Car full of our joyful boisterous noise, some really good scotch and a few bottles of Pinot Noir smuggled aboard. 3 days later, we staggered back on the train in Bonaventure (Gaspe) for another all night train ride, this one a bit more subdued after feasting and music and late night in-house bistro parties.

Sigh, it is a lovely family, my husband has brought me into. And the musician and singer in me loves to stay up late and sing all night.

But I hit the wall or the Waterloo of holiday low spirits in Ottawa, after we spent 2 days with my family.... can't keep up with it like my younger self could. (But then my younger self was very young - from age 19-28 I was a tee-totalling vegeterian, mostly celibate).

Anyhoo, I'm back to my books, (received the whole list of books I circled in the Book Section of the G&M my gawd) and today, luxuriously spent two hours with A Woman's Quest and Blood Bread & Roses.

You'll be hearing more about these two books on my menopause blog or wisdom for women. Cause it is the most heartening discovery of all, to know that we can actually prepare for menopause. We can use the allies of stillness, softness, serenity and surrender to get closer to our own reality.

I always wondered what intuition was, and most of the time I think I have a knack for it. But sadly, most of the time I am moving too fast to pay attention, pushing myself forward, belting my own back with push strive get going don't rest keep moving kind of messages. Ignoring the sad little voice that says, wait a minute, what about my rhythm, my pacing, my needs? You know that the hardest thing for a woman to do is go pee when she has to? there is always something else to finish first. Multi-tasking is dangerous in menopause, there are bones to break, muscles to twist, but I insist on multitudinous activities - can't cross the kitchen without one more thing in my hand to put away, in spite of sore shoulders I still carry in two heavy bags from the car, instead of making 2 trips.

So, slowing down is a challenge. But when you know the rewards - it's so gratifying, to find your hunches are right, and you stay put and things come to you when you need them. The phone rings, your appointment has been cancelled (that was one too many things in your day) or the delivery has been rescheduled till Monday (yes! I can stay in and finish reading that article).

being a stay-at-home mom and part-time teacher of workshops, it's easy for me to put it off til tomorrow, that 'reading' I do for my own learning, to prepare a future class, that doesn't have a due date, or the lecture for September that seems so far away.

But today, now, this afternoon, I am going to give myself another hour and sit in the comfy chair. The birds have been fed, I dug a snow path to the feeder, I walked the dog, I did the groceries, I fixed the phone, I made lunch for the kids....and now, back to the books.

warm fuzzies,
jenn

dear friends,
I have three blogs with different themes, although they merge sometimes.
Today I am posting a poem called Purdah at www.wisdomforwomen.blogspot.com
dedicated to all mothers stuck in the house with small children this winter.

namaste
jenn
ps I have a mp3 of a reading of this and other poems but am searching for a way to post in on this blog.

A big thank you to Bella for awarding me this Lion's Roar for powerful words. I am deeply honoured, and pleased.

This is probably the last post before Christmas party season begins, so here's the story behind the poems.

I first set out to write a book about pregnancy and childbirth, and all things sexual related to it that have been silenced. It began in a Creative Writing 101 class at university, (after 12 years of slogging as a secretary, I decided to go back to school and follow my dream), with a taboo Journal project.

The subject of the Taboo Journal was women's/my sexual universe: everything from first hearing about women's blood in the school yard to sex during pregnancy, and beyond. I also wanted to break the taboo around talking about my mother's alcoholism during my childhood. Speaking up about these things was difficult at first, but got easier as I circled around and back and over the stories and feelings locked up for so long. Having children made it a necessary challenge, so that the legacy of silence was not perpetuated. Especially, I felt a strong need to break the cycle so my daughter wouldn't inherit all the hang-ups I had (well, I tried).

There is still more to write about, much that didn't make it into the first book. But I recorded my body landscape changes during first pregnancy, spoke openly about the dark side of mothering (at home, alone, cooped up in winter like a purdah), and also the mixed blessings and joys of breastfeeding (gorgeous blissful moments vs needle-like pain), and tried to honour the friendships with other women I made at that time.

I wish there were more copies available, but it was a small print run; now I'm moving on to writing about the larger Feminine Mysteries of menarche, mothering and menopause in a non-fiction way.

I do have a menopause survey and a menstruation survey that people could fill out for my research - once i figure out how to post it on this blog. You can email me if you are interested in participating.

muchos gracias,

Felice Navidad,

musemother/jenn

Poem for Urban Earth Mama and all you moms

The Curse (written for Rhonda)

a baby in blue gingham kicks
her legs, smiles at me with teal-blue
eyes, smells of Baby's Own
spice; zinc ointment & powder
mixed with summer sweat & damp
saliva'd sheets

I see myself in her chubby arms
& thighs, this seal blubber baby.
mother said she liked girls best,
but my neighbour cried
when she knew it was a girl.
six months' pregnant
how not to become her Jewish mother?
her grandmother slapped her face
when she started her period,
slapping the curse out of her.

& me? part joy, part tears
my fears at having a girl
having to do with vaginas.
every time I change her diapers
I see we are the same:
same slit between the legs
same sweet flesh, same fear
that someone will open
this pearly oyster before its time
as they did
as he did.

from Little Mother, Hochelaga Press


I don't mean to freak anyone out with this poem, raising a girl (now 15) has been a beautiful sweet challenge
jb

here I am

in the midst of a swirling snowstorm. We have shovelled twice, and still the paths fill up with snow. Children are praying for more snow, a snow day tomorrow, no school.

last year the first snow was January 15 (the first real snow that lasted and covered the grass).

we are so blessed with a white christmas.

I feel happy, lucky, dancing around the kitchen with a glass of white wine while my husband cooks supper (that is another reason I'm happy).

Had a test to past this weekend, but the deed is done, all finished, think I passed with just under flying colours.

ok, breathe now. yesterday I was a shrieking mess, don't touch me don't call me don't ask me for anything I have to get this DONE

today I snuggle on the couch with my pooch and hubby, looking at all the snowmen and santa's decorating my mantle and shelves, and giggle inside

one more initiation of sorts, one more growing pain, one more stretch into where I am
Now

here I am,

blessed be,
jenn

The woman's journey, part 2

As I look at the woman's journey towards unfolding her Self, the milestones are many, but three major ones could be the initiations or blood mysteries of menarche, pregnancy and birth, and menopause.

This piece was written shortly after the birth of my son, who is now 17. It tries to capture some of the otherwordly feel of being a new mother, the transformation out of 'time and space' and into some new symbiosis with an infant.


Birth Journey

She likes to look at that picture of herself and Julien, at three months. Despite the dark circles under her eyes, or perhaps because of them, her eyes have the wide open look of the newly born, a freshly washed liquid stare, so open, all barriers washed away in the flood of waters released when the sac was broken. After the mucous plug was removed the child had no more reason not to descend, not to engage in the passageway, the light not seen yet at the end of the tunnel but close, so close, only a few dancing stomps and drumbeats away. She had put on Paul Simon’s Graceland, some African rhythms to dance a child down. But a whole night of useless contractions later, in the morning, pitocyn drip, waters broken, back labour, and finally it took an epidural and rest before she could push him from her body.

Anyway, that washed look in her eyes, that was what she still marvels at. After such a long journey, the birthing and hard work, the sweating and sucking on ice chips, all the veiled looks in her eyes, the hidden selves are gone. Having lived the greatest mystery, a body dividing itself in two, she has now no more mystery about her. When she looks in the mirror, she sees her transparent reflection, her baby looks back from her face – she can hardly tell the difference between him and herself. She sleeps with her arms wrapped across her chest, in fœtal position, curled on one side, enfolded in that same body-snuggle way the nurses taught her to wrap him in for security. She wakes when he wakes, sleeps when he sleeps, unaware yet of the luxury of having only one child’s rhythm to follow. The first step of initiation, the burning ring of fire around her vulva that finally stretched to let him pass, has brought another self into being. Something she will discover slowly, as she wakes.


luv
jenn

Wellness Wednesday blogs

Just discovered that Wednesday is Wellness Wednesday on Bella's blog, http://www.beyondthemap.blogspot.com and you can read her amazing 'gold stars' list there.

If you haven't done so already, please check out what msmenopause has to say at http://www.msmenopause.blogspot.com and www.wisdomforwomen.blogspot.com.

It's funny writing about wellness, when you feel well. Two days ago I did not feel well, and I could have written a long list about what I need to do to feel well again.

One thing I am doing is (yee-gawds) forgoing the morning caffe latte. My favorite drink. But it's feeding the anxious person in me, the over nervous jittery rush everywhere-aholic.

So, black tea, one cuppa, that's it. NO headache's yet, thank goodness.

I cleaned out a few drawers yesterday in my kitchen (it's only been 3 years), and that felt good. We have a teenaged friend of my son's living with us, and his mother is very very neat, so needless to say, I feel a little more motivated to clean out crumbs and make order out of chaos.

that reminds me of a poem about housewives being heroes.

Canadian hero folds laundry

Today, CBC radio listeners have nominated Terry Fox as
an outstanding Canadian hero. May 10, 2004

Folding laundry, with quiet
determination
I understand that chaos
and its theory need to be folded and put
in its place.
That the poet and artist’s role
is to fold chaos and put order
into words is a given,
that the housewife’s role is
to fold laundry and put
order into her house
is a given,
that the poet/housewife has a role
and that both of these roles
are equally essential to the universe
for they promote order
over chaos
is equally true, thus

as long as there are housewives and poets,
the laundry of the world
will never be left in dirty piles
and the dirty chaos lying await
in the basements of the world
will be neatly cleaned and folded
one more day.

Sometimes, folding laundry and putting order into my house feels very sane, helpful, good for my soul.

have a great wednesday,
jenn

Prayer to Kali

o goddess of black deeds
I have felt the knife's

fury in my wrists, the urge
to throw my baby

down the stairs, the blood
surge making me crazy

or just a lack of sleep
a fever in the chest

never enough rest
stomp yell slap bang

the knife on the counter
instead of hitting him

yet, next moment
all is calm, I soothe his

head, caress him next to
my heart, tell him I am dead

serious. I will not yell
if you don't. bargain, deal

but not beg, only
request. o ungentle goddess,

this anger
is not for him.

help me give tears to my sadness
voice to my rage

Little Mother, 1997
jennifer boire

Women's Stories (a letter)

the ones we tell each other,
late at night or early in the morning
over coffee & a cigarette,
more than one if it's a story we've told
over and over like chain smoking, like
dirty laundry soaking in the tub, stains
evoking lost memories of teething, cut
lips, blood on the sweatshirt where
you held his head & he bled all over you

& you want to speak about this love
you have for other women who listen
intently, with their own pain showing
& many cigarettes to carry them
through the telling.

a compassionate voice or ear,
the closeness we feel yet cannot say
because we're afraid of a label
but what we really want, I want,
is someone fearless, a weaver of words
or truthteller, someone who's not afraid
of hurting while resetting a bone.

to talk about the helplessness of being
stuck in a house with a sick child,
the boredom that strikes,
the complaining we do, being called martyr
when all I really want is to tell someone
how unfair it is that I'm the only one
they call for in the middle of the night
& it's my ears hear them coughing
at 3 a.m. & I can't just lie there.

how to find out what our own needs are
& how to take care of ourselves,
not just wait for him to come home, take over,
pick up the toys and the pieces, mop up our spills,
how to find a quiet time, time alone,
time to think & write.
our need to be replenished with each other,
filling up our bowls with sugar & coffee
so we can tell our stories

not just talking over fences in the backyard
but actually getting out & seeing women
doing the same hard work,
no pay, no thanks, just their little faces
when one least expects it, smiling & asking
me to sing a song about I love you

or making up a song about superman
all by himself in the living room.
he says, go away mom, don't talk (meaning
I have to do this alone, don't listen
cause it might not be perfect the first time).

I send you this in guise of a letter
because that's the way the words are falling out
of my fingers. in my mind I hear
the tapping on keys and it comforts me
at least I can listen to myself talk
without talking out loud (for that's
what crazy women do).

so I keep on writing & dreaming
trying to live truthfully
with my emotions, in my body
and I hope you do the same.

from Little Mother, published by
Hochelaga Press 1997

Wish List

my wish list for no time in particular, but please make it very soon:

time to gather my thoughts

time to pull together a collection of unpublished poems and publish them (from the 3 folders full that are languishing on my computer)

time to find out how this blog works so I can post some audio posts of poems from my mini-CD Holding the Song (it is sold in old cigarette machines at the Casa Populo), from Wiredonwords.

time to find some really great photos of my kids and hubbie and dog and cats to post here

time to sort through the pile of files and notes from the Feminine Mysteries class for that lecture I'm supposed to be planning for september 08

time more time, time alone, more time alone, without interruptions from bathroom renovations, new house plans, landscaping plans, all the trappings of our new 'dream home' that need planning and my attention to come into reality, (not to mention two teenagers with long wish lists)

what am I saying? we dreamed that house into being, and it's being rebuilt now, as we speak. I will have a room with a view of the lake, I will have a room with a desk and a chair and a place to dream and J will have a music room to create in too

my wish list is that in between now and then I will make the time to pursue my creative dreams
and bring them to reality (and not run myself to the ground with 'tasks')

all you who read and comment on my blog are helping to bring that closer, because you feel at home here, and encourage me to continue,

thank you from the bottom of my heart and inkwell,
jenn/musemother

ps I want to post my book Little Mother on-line, cause it's out of print, but not sure I can do that - anyway I'll start with a few poems at a time from that new mom with baby at home phase that so freaked me out, and a poem about women's friendships which sustained me through the light and dark (tune in next week). the theme of the book is the light and dark side of mothering and includes a birth journal, pregnancy poems, sex poems, nursing poems, grieving after miscarriage poems, birth in the car poem, etc.

pps wish I had had an on-line community at that time of writer/moms like you

Tools for Gaining Essential Wisdom: body guidance.

I believe our wisdom is close at hand, right within us, and very doable.

You don't need a book to tell you how to tune in. You need to learn how to live close to the body/belly/heart triangle.

If we can listen to our need for rest, food, inner peace, we can give ourselves the healing we need. In my experience, this involves trusting myself, and knowing that I am enough. I have enough. I do enough - stop the worrying and the rushing and let the Universe take care of things.

This is my challenge, and I share it with you because it is simple, if not easy, to start following your body's guidance right now. The motto is, keep it simple.
(For example, the first rule is so simple, you'll laugh. But it has been trained out of us since childhood.)

l. Eat when you are hungry. Enjoy your food sitting down and notice when you feel satisfied. If you are really adventurous, let yourself be served once a week. (I am loving this last one)

2. Sleep when you are tired. Take naps whenever possible. Set your body clock by going to bed at a reasonable hour. Can you find your own need for rest?

3. Strike two items off your to-do list every day and be happy with that. Do not be a slave to ‘getting it all done’.

4. Take time to sit in silence once a day to center yourself in the breath. Make inner peace a priority.

5. Stretch, shake your body, dance, do yoga, walk, or move a new muscle. Wake up your body every day.

6. Go pee when you have to – respond to the first call. This is harder than it sounds.

7. When you have your monthly period, give yourself what you need – either rest or exercise. PMS is the result of not listening to your body guidance. Sit with your center and find time to relax. Hot water bottle or pilates? Your gut will guide you. This is your time to be alone; your intuition is stronger now. Pay attention.

I have found, that when I learn to take care of myself, and treat my body less harshly, more lovingly, I naturally become less harsh and more loving to others.

Above all, be kind to yourself. Balance effort with relaxation. Learn compassion for yourself. And remember, whatever I bless flourishes, whatever I criticize falters. (from the Woman's Belly Book)

ps I am trying to put these into practice, one day at a time. As a confirmed 'woman who does too much' and chronic worrier, this is also my antidote to stress.

may life bless you,
musemother
(with thanks to all the women who have inspired me:
Dr. Christiane Northrup, Dr. Joan Borysenko, Jean Shinoda Bolen,
Marion Woodman and to Maharaji for showing me the address
of peace within).

Putting it off

I'm putting it off again. Even though the pain in my neck and right shoulder, the numbness in my left arm should be a strong hint.

I'm putting off taking care of me. My 'things to do list' is so important, it takes precedence over lunch, naps, filing my chipped nails, and walking the dog.

There's a driver inside of me, cracking the whip. Poor horsie, never runs fast enough.

Poor body, poor wee soul inside, shrinking from the sight of that whip, that taskmaster.

Grinding my teeth at night, and then I wake up with a sore jaw. Wondering, where is the release button? could I just please find it and press, so everything would relax?

I don't have a boss, it's unpaid labour I'm doing, mostly volunteer work, singing in a Christmas concert, organizing a women's circle, practising with my quartet, handling volunteer requests from two cities, lots of emails and phone calls and ....

somewhere, in the middle of all that busy-ness, I am become more concentrated on doing, and lose the being.

Sore shoulders stopped me once before - lead me off to acupunture treatments, physiotherapy, osteopathy, whatever would 'fix it'. At the time, I was walking two big dogs every day, and re-injuring my shoulder each time. Finally, the acupuncturist suggested I find someone else to walk the dogs, since the shoulder wasn't healing.

Duh!

Too much computer time, too eager to respond right away to all those important emails....leads to the sore neck, stiff shoulder syndrome.

I'm going to get off the computer right now, right after I check my emails again.....

have a great end of November post full-moon day,
jenn

Mothering myself, again :)

originally posted March 02, 2007

Mothering Myself, too

How can I mother others (reader, be gentle), if I can't mother myself?

The first mother-god in our life is our own mother. She appears flawless, beautiful, all knowing, all merciful, kissing boo-boos, wiping tears, untangling curls; until we hit pre-teen years, then wham! she becomes the hag, easy to find fault with - we don't like the way she does her hair or the way she dresses, the clothes she buys for us are uncool, her disgusting personal habits (in our view) gross us out; not to mention the embarassing hoos-hoos over the back yard in search of us at supper time or bed time or the fact that she sees danger lurking on every corner.

In my life, things were complicated by the fact that my mom suffered from the disease of alcoholism - that made the transition to hag come a little quicker. I was the eldest of eight, and harnessed into 'little motherhood' at a young age - diapering babies, holding bottles, feeding pablum to brothers and sisters, babysitting - were all par for the course. Good material for growing up fast. Yet shouldering responsibilities too big for my small shoulders.

When mothering my own children came along, I tried so hard to 'do it right'. Be that perfect mom. Huh! And of course, no one is perfect. I began to resent having the weight of responsibility on my shoulders again. Somewhere down the line I realized my own need for mothering was still unfulfilled - that part of me that hadn't really grown up yet.

So how could I begin to mother myself? Hmmmm, perhaps giving up on that perfectionism, not pushing myself so hard to be all things to all people, not taking on too many tasks at once (which causes panic, anxiety to set in, and mad rushing, which usually results in accidents or at the very least, too much yelling); by slowing down, letting things come to me, letting go, not being 'in charge' all the time or feeling overly responsible for everyone in my life. Giving myself a break, taking it one day at a time.

Also, in ceasing the self-criticism, harsh self-judgment. Reminding myself that I am ok. I am enough. I am not perfect.

When I am hard on myself, I push the kids too hard. They react, I react, we all get a little crazy. They remind me, chill out, don't sweat it, Relax! They don't need me hovering. They are learning to manage their own time, get homework assignments in on time, get enough sleep, come home on time. (Time is a huge issue here, I'm noticing) I call them reminders. They say, Mom, we know what we have to do! Trust us. They actually need less mothering.

When I don't feel like a 'good mom', when I feel like I'm blowing up too often, talking with other moms is helpful. Having a women's circle is a god-send. Turning to my husband and admitting I'm not the superwoman I think I am is humbling but good for the heart. Letting down my armour, asking for help, sitting in meditation, practising yoga, coming back into the body.

Today, I am nobody's rock. I need mothering myself.

Many people may rely on me for leadership, team participation, support, or just companionship and friendly presence. But today, my mother-ship is docked in the service bin. I need some time out for just me, for heart care repairs, for recovery from the mommy battles. Instead of tackling the list of things to do, I'll take a nap.

Snowstorm outside makes me want to stay inside where it's warm. Breathing in, breathing out, resting, unlatching all the 'shoulds'. All navigational devices and compasses are on 'rest mode' while we wait out the storm.

Breathe with me,
musemom

The Helpful Angel Archetype

The Bitch post stirred up a few comments, and here's my take on the helpful Angel, aided and abetted by Clarissa Pinkola Estes, that wise storyteller and author of Women who Run with the Wolves, who calls it the "Great Healer" archetype.

I spent a number of years at home with my children when they were young and needy, and having been brought up to be a caretaker of others, eldest of eight, I became wedded to the "Little Mother" or helpful angel archetype from a young age.

Once I became a mother, however, the nature of the post being 24-7, quickly exhausted my initial loving soul-store, and I saw my flip side take over. Scary stuff, when you're in charge of vulnerable little people, and you've never been so angry before. I began to seek out any wisdom or therapy or guidance I could find.

Many of my women friends in peri-menopause have expressed a longing to get away, to take a sabbatical, to take off for more than a few days, to try and find themselves, not knowing where they have misplaced their sense of self. But being moms and central to the home, it seems impossible, we feel guilty to feel this way, and yet trapped.

Here is what Pinkola Estes says about how a woman knows she has to return to her wild instinctual nature (she calls it returning home):

"They know when they are overdue for home. Their bodies are in the here and now, but their minds are far, far away. They are dying for new life. They are panting for the sea. They are living just for next month, just till this semester is past, can't wait till winter is finally over so they can feel alive again, just waiting for a mystically assigned date somewhere in the future when they will be free to do some wondrous thing. They think they will die if they don't... you fill in the blank.

There is angst. There is bereftness. there is wistfulness. There is longing.... yet women continue at their day-to-day routines, looking sheepish, acting guilty and smirky. "Yes, yes, yes I know,' they say. "I should but, but, but.... (my kids need this, my kids need that)

An incompletely initiated woman in this depleted state erroneously thinks she is deriving more spiritual credit by staying than she thinks she will gain by going. Others are caught up in....working hard and ever harder to prove that they are acceptable, that they are good people.

....Let us clarify that the going home is many different things to many different women....there are many ways to go home; many are mundane, some are divine. ...I caution you, the exact placement of the aperture to home changes from time to time, so its location may be different this month than last.

Rereading passages of books and single poems that have touched them. spending even a few minutes hear a river, a stream, a creek. Lying on the ground in dappled light. Being with a love done without kids around. Sitting on the porch shelling something, knitting something, peeling something. Walking or driving for an hour, any direction, then returning. Getting on any bus, destination unknown. Making drums while listening to music. Greeting sunrise. Driving out to where the city lights do not interfere with the night sky. Praying. A special friend. Sitting by a bridge with legs dangling over. Holding an infant. Sitting by a window in a cafe and writing. Sitting in a circle of trees. Drying hair in the sun. Putting hands in a rain barrel, Potting plants, being sure to get hands very muddy. Beholding beauty, grace, the touching frailty of human beings.

So it is not necessarily an overland and arduous journey to go home, yet I do not want to make it seem that it is simplistic, for there is much resistance to going home no matter if it be easy or hard.

....the great healer archetype carries wisdom, goodness, knowing, caregiving and all the other things associated with a healer...but beyond that, it exerts a hindering influence on our lives. Women's 'heal everything, fix everything' compulsion is a major entrapment constructed by the requirements placed upon us by our own cultures....

... no woman can emanate an archetype continuously. We are not meant to be 'ever-able, all giving, eternally energetic.' She needs to learn to say "Halt" and "Stop the music", and of course mean it.

A woman has to go away and be with herself and look into how she came to be trapped in an archetype to begin with. The basic wild instinct that determines 'only this far and no farther, only this much and no more' must be retrieved and developed. That is how a woman keeps her bearings.

So women who are tired, temporarily sick of the world, but afraid to take time off, wake up already!"

from Woman who Run with the Wolves, Clarissa Pinkola Estes.

enjoy,
musemother

Blog Index of Articles Help

Someone out there in the blogging universe, please send me any info you have on how to index your blogs.

I have some great information buried in the past month's entries that I don't know how to list where it will be visible.

For instance, Women's Mysteries and PMS, from September 4, or Multitasking Menopause and Stress, June 13. Some kind of system must exist to list these.

I'll keep looking too
jenn

The Angel and the Bitch

You know the voices, the harsh inner critic, the mother-saint who nurtures others at her own expense, the inner perfectionist, your own mother's voice telling you how to behave....

I was listening to a CD of Joan Borysenko's on menopause, called Initiation into Power, and she reminded me of those inner voices. (a great intro to menopause by the way)

It also reminded me of a poem series I wrote, The Angel in the House, and her flip side, The Bitch Goddess, wherein I tried to reconcile the anger I felt some days (usually pre-menstrually) at being a mom-at-home, wife, and caretaker and the overhwelming love I also felt for my children and my husband. Especially when the kids were little, at the crawling around on the floor stage, and there wasn't much Daddy could do except pitch in on the weekends and evenings. Then the inner voices were very loud and uncompromising. Usually I 'lost it' and spoke in that voice before I even felt it coming.

A new book on menstrual health, The Wild Genie, and the accompanying exercise book, The Woman's Quest, are opening my eyes to the positive side of the Bitch's voice. Alexander Pope calls it The inner power broker. What an enlightening way to see this energy - the 'tough talking, asertive, provacative, knowing, sometimes angry figure so many of us encounter premenstrually [and in peri-menopause] and often end up apologizing for later."

"She'll get you into trouble if you don't understand and value her presence."

yeah, babe, you can say that again!

While this power is not to be abused, nor does it give you licence to abuse others, it is a step towards self-knowledge to listen to her voice. Slowing down, incorporating more stillness and 'sacred space' into your schedule may help alleviate some of the symptoms of the bitch.

But really, don't be afraid of her. Get to know your inner power broker. Shift your viewpoint. how is she your ally? as an agent for change perhaps, or acting out in the world.

What issues are troubling you? What could you do instead of censoring yourself? Peri-menopause particularly is a time when women are finding their voice. If you have mistreated yourself all your life, never taken a moment to take care of just 'you', you may find that voice is very bitter and resentful.

Find a way this month, or this week, or even today, to honour your inner Bitch through some action or activity. Drop the self-criticism and hone into your inner wisdom. What are you upset about? and how can you channel that into constructive change?

Bottling up our feelings, stifling our authentic self because we want to be good girls, and listening to our inner mother tell us to shut up, not be so selfish, leads to explosive, outspoken, challenging Bitchiness! why wait for the pot to boil-over-the-top? Stir the pot, find out what you are feeling pre-menstrually or pre-menopausally.

Don't forget to be gentle and breathe into it!

Honour your inner Bitch, have a dialogue with her!

have a great weekend,
musemother

The Good Body

Have you read The Good Body by Eve Ensler, of Vagina Monologues fame?

I picked it up a year ago, read it rather cursorily, put it down. This year, last week in fact on the way to New York, I read it again. It packs quite a punch. Short extract:

I'm walking down a New York City street, and I catch a glimpse of this blond, pointy-breasted, raisin-a-day stomached smiling girl on the cover of Cosmo magazine. She is there every minute, somewhere in the world, smiling down on me, on all of us. She's omnipresent. She's the American Dream, my personal nightmare. Pumped straight from the publishing power plant into the bloodstream of our culture and neurosis. She is multiplying on every corner.

She was passed through my mother's milk and so I don't even know that I'm contaminated. Don't get me wrong, I pick up the magazines. No, no, no. It's the possibilty of being skinny good that keeps me buying. Oh, God, I discover a Starbucks maple walnut scone expanding in me, creeping out. Flabby age leaking through the cracks. Big Macs, French fries, Pizza Land, four helpings, can't stop. My stomach is America. I want to drown in the cement. Obviously, I'm missing something. Maybe if I go and find the woman who thought this up she'll reveal the secret."

then follows a fictionalized interview with Helen Gurley Brown, editor of Cosmo magazine.
Eighty years old, one hundred sit-ups twice a day, I'm down to ninety pounds!

Why am I telling you this? inside of every woman who finds her menstrual cycle a nuisance is probably a woman who hates at least part of her body, if not every part. Someone once told me I had nice hands, and I thought, well at least there's something attractive about me! (I was 18)

Thirty-five years later, I like myself a lot better, but the body landscape has been transformed. No longer size 6, or under 120 lbs, no longer being teased for being a toothpick basically. No danger of that today, and the photo of me you see on this blog is probably 15 years old....so you have no idea! And no, I will not be having plastic surgury anytime soon, no matter how many wrinkles creep up on me.

Let's just say, that this good body has been supporting me and my work (as if they were separate, huh!) for 53 years now. In spite of my negligence and lack of care, too busy being in my head to listen to my body. Look, I just had lunch at 4:00 pm - stuff gets in the way of eating, and I'm hypoglycemic. My hubby and daughter finally said, do us all a favour and eat! (crankiness major indicator of hunger).

What is it about this 'inconvenience' called a physical body that our mind doesn't get? One can't live on words alone, on books and newspapers and magazines and blogs and ideas, no matter how fascinating these may be.

Help yourself by grounding once in a while, I tell myself, by getting up off the computer and stretching, by walking the dog, patting the cat, making myself a salad or a bowl of soup, looking out the window and unkinking the neck....and yes, breathing helps too.

Take care of this body, of these emotions, these foreign feelings that take up your/my time. Be kind to yourself/myself. What you bless flourishes, what you criticize or curse falters.

Believe in the body's goodness, and it will be good, to you.
best,
jenn

Marrying myself

This morning in yoga, something delicious happened. The instructor was leading us in some gentle postures for balance. I think it was in Tree pose that I noticed the breath was freed up, and I could feel my belly and abdomen open, not obstructed with tension.

Then we lay on the floor and did some back bends, each time resting our head on the floor between making effort, relaxing.

It took a bit of effort to keep bringing my mind back to center, stop it from wandering off. But when I was finally present, it felt so good to just breathe and be here, on the floor, in my body.

My body! that location of so much turbulence, many emotions, and so much tension! But this morning I could feel it all melting away, as I kept coming back to the breath. Being purposefully gentle with myself, because of a very stiff neck. Every time my inner voice said, don't do that pose, I listened.

Then this wonderful thought popped up : yoga=union, or marrying myself. Inside of the breath's gentle embrace, I am finally opening, accepting that this is where I am. I can love myself, right now, the way I am, in the shape I am in, with the light and dark of me, with all my neediness, and the letting go.

A smile lit my face, even with my eyes closed, and I felt warm and calm, knowing that there is nowhere to hide from me, and I don't want to run away from me anymore.

Acceptance, surrender - no, just a little more being-ness, just a few more breaths of one-ness, and wanting this, feeling longing and desire line up inside of little me.

be well today, let the harsh winds of November blow around you,
stay connected inside,
luv
jenn