Happy Midsummer!

Happy midsummer!

I was supposed to be celebrating at Stonehenge today, but Covid put an end to that, for all of us, including the Druids who are the ancient Celts, who hold ceremony at Stonehenge at the summer and winter solstices. However, it rained, so we wouldn’t have seen sunrise anyway, not in Guernsey nor at Stonehenge, so this eased the moment somewhat and does mean I got a little more sleep last night than I was anticipating even a few weeks ago. 

Fortunately, I glimpsed some of sunrise earlier this week, from Les Trepieds, which appears to be aligned with the summer solstice, this after seeing the mist that reminded me of the mists of Avalon! This has a rich wiccan past although it was referenced in relation to the witch trials and persecution so has a sad history too. It’s not somewhere I have spent much time, favouring the fairy cave instead, there’s something about its energy. However I felt it peaceful at 5am, with the sound of the birds and the sea. It took me back to ancient times perhaps.

I did visit the fairy cave that same early morning too, and the serious energy was quite in contrast to the energy of Les Trepieds. You have to be mindful with the fairy cave, respectful to the guardians, I have learned this over time. It is the same at La Varde, the pigeons will watch you anyhow, these are the guardians in time manifest, and they hold the secrets that they might slowly reveal to us if we respect this sacred goddess energy – I get a little uptight if I hear that people are messing with the energy. These are not summer solstice sites, at least that’s my experience.

As a family, we visited La Rocque Balan, to feel the midsummer eve energy, as there is reference to it having been a place of midsummer eve celebration in times gone by. The sun was lost behind clouds and there was a small party of ladies enjoying a picnic nestled in the rocks and a friend appeared to be holding ceremony with another friend by the cup marks at the summit – there are many theories as to what they were for, and geological explanations too; always a mystery where ancient sites of ceremony and worship are concerned.

In my mind I see a stone circle just below the main rocks, I’m always drawn here, there’s something about the energy, and Elijah was feeling it too. I was dowsing and he took the pendulum from me, the first time he has ever done that and wanted to learn how to do it himself and how to find the ‘energy focus’. As with everything, this is open to interpretation, which is perhaps the reason I love exploring these ancient sites, because we will never know, only in our hearts and third eyes, so there we can embrace all that is mysterious about this wonderful world of energy and moon/sun/star alignment.

I watched a lecture this week by Heather Sebire who used to work with my dad here on Guernsey, but who now manages Stonehenge, quite amazing! It was fascinating to learn more of this ancient site, which has long held sway over the archaeologist, the mystic, the astronomer and the poet and still evokes such a wide range of feeling and thought. I’m still buying into the idea that Stonehenge was built by the Druids, and I shall never forget spending sunrise here as part of my 40th celebrations, and watching the Druids and hearing the drumming and just blissing out on the Pagan energy, let alone the excitement at touching the stones.

I love touching stones and finding messages in them. Energetically I can sometimes feel things, we spent time during IVF treatment at Salisbury cathedral, I just felt this need to rest my head and hands against some of those old stones infused with the energy of prayer and connection to God, even if it is not a God that I worship. So too, to find hand positions in ancient rocks, here on Guernsey there are some in La Varde and the fairy cave, and probably elsewhere but these places are where I tend to spend the most time, and with La Gran’ Mère outside St Martin’s Church, who has definitely been changed, to transform her from goddess to man and yet the breasts give the game away!

I love not only the mystery of these sites but the fact that I might place my hands where hands were placed thousands of years ago, by those ancestors whose blood may run through mine, if you buy into this, and the manner in which we are drawn to that which we once were, as if we are remembering. Who knows. Another mystery, a reminder that we sometimes just don’t know, which reminds me of this beautiful poem I found the other day by Mary Oliver called ‘Angels’:

“You might see an angel anytime
and anywhere. Of course you have
to open your eyes to a kind of 
second level, but it’s not really
hard. The whole business of 
what’s reality and what isn’t has
never been solved and probably
never will be. So I don’t care to
be too definite about anything. 
I have a lot of edges called Perhaps
and almost nothing you can call
Certainty. For myself, but not 
for other people. That’s a place
you just can’t get into, not 
entirely anyway, other people’s 
heads. 

I’ll just leave you with this. 
I don’t care how many angels can 
dance on the head of a pin. It’s
enough to know that for some people
they exist, and that they dance. “

I love too finding imagery in the rocks, seeing figures, faces, signs, these are all messengers, also open to interpretation. I’m always hopeful there may be some evidence of Ogham, the ancient Celtic tree alphabet, which appears on roughly 400 stones which have been discovered thus far, 360 of which are in Ireland and the rest scattered around Wales, Scotland, England and the Isle of Man.  It might well be an excuse to visit Ireland and all the Celtic sites there, but I see perhaps my own language in the stones here; a re-membering!

So happy midsummer to you all (there were two longest days this year, that’s unusual!), and happy new moon solar eclipse too. May more of the mystery reveal itself to you, may you tread your path on the edge, where the magic happens, on the margins, not limited by the perceived certainty of definition, dancing with the angels, always dancing with the angels, and stepping closer and closer to who you really are on the inside. The descent into the darkness will support this, so let’s descend gently and enjoy all that the shifting seasons and planets may bring.

Love Emma x 

The Mother with the Moon

As we approach the summer solstice and the new moon solar eclipse on Sunday, I feel that the ‘mother’ in all her guises, both literally and as Gaia, is very much in the field at the moment. 

However, it might just be me, because I have been immersing myself more in the goddess recently, listening to a series of lectures by Kathy Jones, who is a Priestess of Avalon and a Priestess of Goddess and the Founder of the Goddess Temple, Hall & House in Glastonbury, and I am reading her book too, Soul and Shadow, so am fully in that zone. So perhaps it is a case of law of attraction, given the information coming in. 

Yet, and as I always say, I am merely a micro of the macro so it is likely that you are feeling it too and I suspect it will become clearer and stronger the closer we get Sunday. For me the body has been getting my attention, a sensation in the breast and a change in consistency of monthly blood (sorry, probably too much information but this is how the body talks to us, how the wisdom comes through, as a result of changes in our own nature, the very bones and muscles and skin of our body in this very lifetime on Planet Earth).

It’s in this way, through the body, that we are made aware of stuck energy that is often the result of old repressed emotions that have not been allowed expression, this is e-motions (energy in motion) that need releasing, of wounds that still need healing, for the energy to be able to flow again and for us to feel increased wellbeing and greater presence (less weighed down by the energy stuck (and sticking us) in the past). 

I dropped into the body sensations, and tried to listen. I’ve channelled quite a lot of Reiki recently and this has undoubtably helped in me understanding a little more of what my body is trying to tell me, although there’s still always more to know (one of the many wonderful things about working with Reiki is that you receive as you give!)

I realise how much I have been giving myself a hard time for my perceived mothering failures, about the decisions I have made in the past about how I might live in relationship with my children, about going back to work when Elijah was only 3 months old, and how this has pained me for six years now, to think that I felt I had little choice and the guilt at leaving my son albeit with my own beautiful mum, which of course made it easier. 

I know that I made that decision as consciously as I could at that time, and that if I knew then what I know now, I might have found a different way and made a different decision instead, which would have enabled me to spend more time with my son when he was still so young. Yet I recognise that we can only ever make decisions based on what we know in that moment, depending on our level of consciousness and our perception about where we are and what we feel we need/want from life. 

 It is all too easy to reflect back now and consider how we might have done things differently if only we had known then what we know now, and to give ourselves a very hard time in the process, focusing on our perceived failings rather than the bits we might have got right, that feel more comfortable to us. I know also that this ‘hard time giving’ serves no one, not us, and especially not our children. There is nothing to be gained by being negative towards ourselves, yet as mothers we do this. 

Sometimes the weight of what it means to mother can be overwhelming, simply because we are desperate not to mess it up, not to cause pain to our children or to damage them in any way. Yet we are only human and life is messy and uncertain, and we are all of our own nature, which means with the best will in the world we can never do it for our children and we may never truly understand the way that they see the world, as much as we may try, which means that we may not always be the person that they need us to be, regardless of how much of ourselves we give to them.

I know all this, and yet I have been so conscious of trying to be all that is needed and to understand their needs and their wants and accommodate these as best I can without losing myself in the process, which is the trickiest bit, because sometimes we do lose ourselves, despite our best efforts! The trouble is that mothering cannot be delineated. There is no line to say that this is where I begin and this is where I end, that this is what I will give and this is what I will keep for myself, as this too is always in flux and it cannot be pinned down or made concrete from one day to the next. 

Today I am this way and tomorrow I might be another way, and I know now that that is OK. Somehow we will find a way. And the way weaves this way and that, and the wind drops and the sun sets and all is calm, and then the storm comes to turn this all on its head and there is no sunset that day and the wind does not stop blowing so that we cannot hear so clearly, and we are flustered and full of rage, and then the rain comes and it cools us down, and we start again, the heart open closing open closing, wanting always to be open but there are moments when it cannot be that way. 

So too it is with mothering and being mothered. How much do we open to the vulnerability of being loved and of loving with all our heart? It sounds so easy but sometimes it is not. There are moments when we lose the awareness that allows us to be so present, even for a split second and we might say something that is not aligned to heart, because we are protecting our own heart, because there is some wounding, some resonance of some hurt that we didn’t like very much.

Sometimes we can be mothered so much that we don’t even know who we are, because we are smothered by the weight of another trying to protect us, to the extent that we cannot hear our own heart and we cannot therefore find our own path with heart . And others not mothered enough, so that their heart lays heavy with the sadness of the rejection and the abandonment so that they reject and abandon a part of themselves and the possibility of love because they do not consider themselves worthy enough, or because it is too hard. 

And speak to me also, of how you might mother yourself?  I reflect on this too. The breast talks of nourishment and the womb talks of sacred space, of ancient wisdom. Both talk to us of our unique spiritual path, our path with heart, our way. This is in contrast to the way that seeks to include everyone in the same ‘mundane’ expression of life according to the rules and order and constrictions of society.  

The womb is our power, we know this, the dark space, the void, the deep mystery. Babies grow inside this, inside ourselves. This blows my mind even now, even having grown two real live human beings inside me, even having felt it for myself and seen the heart beat alone of both babies when they were six weeks in utero (we are alllllllll heart and there was validation as I wrote about in Dancing with The Moon). The breasts that nourish new life, that allow new life to grow, that bring baby to heart, so that there is a heart-resonance on a very deep level from the moment the baby enters the world and suckles. 

Even now, at three and a half years I am frustrated by those who tell me that he is too old for milk. It is not just milk! This is one of the most natural things that my body does. It brings my son directly to my heart and it nourishes him beyond the calories and vitamins of breast milk. It is the most beautiful thing in the world to me and I am grateful to my Ayurvedic doctor for recognising this, and normalising this and knowing that in Sri Lanka, her mother breast fed all the children until they were ready to let it go, maybe six, maybe seven, whenever they chose. 

These are the messages that I am receiving. And I know now as I write this and share with you that there is deeper meaning. That this is about following our own unique spiritual path and it is about breaking free from all that constrains us and prevents us from doing this - from our conditioning and the conditioning of those from whom we seek validation, and from society. We each have our own unique nature. An oak tree is an oak tree, it cannot be a beech tree however much someone might wish it to be, it is not its nature. 

There is this wonderful song by José González, called In Our Nature, which goes:

It's in our nature.
It's in our nature.
It's in our nature.
It's in our nature.

Put down your sword.
Send home your dogs.
Open up your doors.
Let down your guard.

It's in our nature.
It's in our nature.
It's in our nature.
It's in our nature.

Put down your gun.
Ignore the alarm.
Open up your heart.
Let down your guard.

It's in our nature.
It's in our nature.
It's in our nature.
It's in our nature.
It's in our nature

This has always spoken to me, of the need to allow our true nature by letting down our guard. It is only in letting down our guard and allowing our vulnerability that we can truly know our heart. Our heart speaks of our truth and our truth speaks of our nature and our nature speaks of our soul.

Mother Earth she knows only the song of the soul, she sings of love and truth and justice for all, she weaves the magic of earth, water, fire, air and ether, and it is this, manifest, that nourishes us all, the big mystery, the dark void, the essence of all we are is the essence of all she is too, yet she knows only heart, she knows only vulnerability, because this is her nature and she trusts in that, and it this that is the ultimate lesson. She trusts in her true nature, she trusts her soul. And this, my friends, is where we find ourselves now, at the crossroads of the new paradigm.  

Can we trust our soul to nourish and sustain us? Can we find the courage to allow the deepest vulnerability, the greatest intimacy? Can we let go of all that distances us from our own nature?

The moon will tell us a tale, and the eclipse will tell us a tale too. And the sun and the rain, they tell us a tale too, of violet, indigo, blue, green, yellow, orange and red. We walk the rainbow bridge and she holds our hand as a mother holds a child, and we know that we will be safe, because we are held by the…great…mother…earth.

Love x

The full moon lunar eclipse this Friday: the mother

It’s the Sagittarius full moon lunar eclipse on Friday and I am certainly feeling the heat. Phew. Not only am I literally burning hot from having spent a little bit too much time in the sun today, but the fire within me has been ignited a little bit more with news of what a return to pre-school will likely entail for my three year old, Eben.

We have already made the decision to home school Elijah, our six year old, for the rest of this term and then take a view on this in September, but I had intended to settle Eben back into pre-school, as he is a very different child to Elijah, much more sociable and in need of constant entertainment, he is a vortex of energy, this having kicked his way out of me six weeks early on the supermoon back in October 2016! He hasn’t stopped kicking and running and moving and generally challenging me, and yet delighting me with his zest and passion for living and life, ever since.

The eldest is super sensitive and has never truly been conformable with school, there was constant tears and I have been picking up for lunch for the last two years because he hates the noise of the playground and gets anxious with all the other children. Returning to school now, after a three month absence, with all the changes and the social distancing and the constant hand washing, just wouldn’t be healthy for him, it takes him a good while to adjust to new situations and he’s gotten used to being at home, and to be honest his learning has improved with the one to one attention.

Pre-school though, I thought I’d be OK with that, until we received the communication today about the changes to procedures. After being assured back in September that parents were able to stay and help settle their children, now we have to drop and leave as quickly as we can. I know only too well how traumatic this can be to a child if they are not ready for it, I’ve blogged about it before, but we foolishly did this with Elijah back in the day, as everyone told us this was the way, only to return three hours later to find a shaking and sobbing two and three quarter year old.

We did it again, twice, because we kept being told you had to do it, until we realised this wasn’t right. He started getting anxious at night, his behaviour changed, he clung to me, he cried as we drove to pre-school, he virtually begged me. It wasn’t until the last full moon last month that i finally forgave myself for that, almost four years on. It was almost unforgivable as a mother to just leave your crying child with a total stranger, and dash off, when that child has never been left with anyone other than family and does not know a single person in the rooms and can’t stand noise! He was traumatised.

So I won’t be repeating that mistake with Eben. Not that he will get the opportunity as he has a persistent cough, has done for about three weeks now. Apparently there is a persistent cough on Guernsey, I think people have been fretting they have Covid and contacting the health care professionals accordingly, so it’s become more well known that it’s not Covid, that there is another virus with similar symptoms circulating. So until Eben no longer coughs, and no longer has a snotty nose, which might also be some time as he is three years old and many children have snotty noses, it’s the Kapha, part of the period of their life that they are in, then he won’t be returning to pre-school.

If he does go, they’ll be taking the children’ temperature on arrival, which is not part of the public health advice and does seem to go a little far for me, but is part of their risk management strategy. I do wonder what kind of world we are wanting our children to grow up in and I’ll be honest, the way things are going currently, this is absolutely not the way I would like the world to become, with us being totally paranoid about germs, to the extent that children will become anxious at the slightest hint of them, and also won’t be exposed to them impacting on their immune systems when they are exposed to them and what of OCD around cleanliness and cleaning the hands.

Today we also found out that the States are trying to get children off the bus and on the road, with walking or cycling the norm. I don’t have a problem with that per se, but isn’t that going to result in more cars on the road? Those who take the bus often living farther away from school, and so it might not be practical to cycle or walk. Certainly from where we live to school it would take me twenty minutes to walk, and as Eben comes with us and as he won’t walk, I’d have to carry him. That’s there and back. And he would be too small to cycle, and even Elijah is too small to cycle to school. I just don’t think people are thinking these things through properly. We’ll just end up with even more cars on the roads.

I also find it hilarious (in a sad way) that months ago we were making progress in getting rid of single use plastic, and now we can’t get enough of it. I was told that at one of the private schools, children have been told they must bring their lunch box into school in a plastic bag. And then there’s all that single use plastic gloves, and with everything being cleaned within an inch of its life, we’ll be going through a number of those as a society.

Of course i care desperately about Mother Earth and how she is tended, but I also care deeply about the children, the next generation. I can’t help thinking that in the quest to protect the vulnerable, children are the ones to suffer. Their desks are spread apart, no group work, or small team work, none of the play activity that was in place, at pre-school, plastic toys are back in, out goes the sand and the water, and presumably free play goes too as everything has to be controlled and managed and risk assessed. Argh.

Don’t get me wrong, of course I don’t want people to die, but I also don’t want children growing up anxious, depressed and having to grow up before their time. They are children and children play. Children have snotty noses. Children touch as they try to make sense of the world, they explore, they hug, they leap and they jump. Children need to be allowed to be children, not controlled within an inch of their lives for a virus that they may or may not get. There is always a bigger picture and every action will have a consequence, and I hope those making the decisions are really comfortable with the choices they are making and what this means for our children’s wellbeing long term, let alone this planet we live on.

I was blown away, just couldn’t get my head around events on Saturday. Not least the appalling and public murder of George Floyd and the rioting that ensued, not so much that I was surprised about this, because the voice needed to be heard, black lives do matter, and it is time, it has been time for an awfully long time now, and I am embarrassed to be part of a humanity which continues to discriminate and separate and silence, and to live amongst those who have such a blatant disregard for the lives of others. Then we have a space shuttle going up in the air!

E and I actually stood outside and watched the space station pass over Guernsey and then about six minutes later the shuttle passed too, it was really faint and I couldn’t see it properly, but E managed to follow it’s path, this with the moon out too. This the dream of Elon Musk, a tech billionaire, who wants to see life established on Mars so that the human species can continue, because he expects us to become extinct here on Mother Earth. He might be right, but I can’t help thing, wouldn’t the money not be better spent on improving the way we live on Mother Earth, so that we might continue as a specie and so that we don’t destroy Gaia in the process?

It just seems so arrogant to me. We’ll exploit this planet through greed, with the focus on money and accumulation of wealth at the expense of everything else, we’ll develop tech, which is meant to solve all our problems, yet from my experience during lock down this just added to my stress levels, and the stress levels of others, yes I might have been able to teach yoga through Zoom, but many of my regular students couldn’t join me because their internet kept dropping out or they had spent so long on the computer already that day with work and online learning that they’d had quite enough!

He’s involved in all sorts of others stuff too, including gentle artificial intelligence whatever that is, and he does some good stuff, helping make fresh water available to communities in the US, supporting companies developing renewable energy. But you know, do we really need to go to Mars? Aren’t we doing a bad enough job looking after this planet? if we all just lived a little more simply. I don’t know about this whole space thing. Why do we have to keep messing with things? We’ll never know, it doesn’t matter how much money is thrown at it, how many scientists are involved, it’s the great is mystery. That is the sacred.

I’ve been watching this series of lectures on the Goddess recently and it has been mind blowing actually, to see how much she was revered all those years ago and the artefacts that have been found and the cave paintings and all this amazing imagery of the big breasts, the big tummy, the big thighs and the public triangle. Often she had no face and no feet, they weren’t viewed as important, not in the grand scheme of things. For she was the provider of life, without her, the woman, the goddess, there will be no life.

Then patriarchy arrived and all of a sudden her image changes, she is sexualised. To see it in artefacts and imagery, really did impact on me. How the manner in which she was visually presented changed. Her breasts became smaller and pert and often now clothed, her pubic triangle, big thighs and big tummy also disappeared, she was masculine physically, with tight stomach muscles in one image, like a six pack, and she was made to be physically attractive to the other sex and demoted too, as less than a man, no longer revered for her ability to give life, but now as the sexual conquest, owned.

Now she rises again, and yet she still has to find her way, because even women reject what she means. Still there is the pressure for the masculine in the physicality, women who have big breast, big tummies and big thighs are always trying to lose them, to change themselves, to become less of what they are, to reject the goddess and her power of life. In Ayurveda this is the classical Kapha, the mother, the nurturer. It saddens me that women naturally designed this way, should give themselves such a blinking hard time for it. You can’t beat a big breasted hug, my mum’s best friend has the biggest boobs I know and I love her the more for it, because it’s comforting somehow, to be hugged by someone that has such power within them, the goddess embodied.

Not to say that those of us scant breasted women should give themselves a hard time either. I’ve still managed to breastfeed both my boys and I’m still breastfeeding Eben at three and three quarters, and I don’t know where the milk comes from, but it comes! I suppose I just mean that we need to embrace all we have , and our children and the lives that we are creating for them, that we allow to be created for them.

I went to visit the Gran’Mere, the goddess at St Martin’s church today. She still wears the necklaces I hung on her at Beltain, I am surprised that no one has removed them, but perhaps people wouldn’t feel touching her. She too has been changed, an attempt has been made to masculine her, give her a male face. She has been damaged and yet someone was kind enough to try to mend her. I thought as I stood there touching her, that at least her breasts have stood the test of time, that they didn’t take those from her, that something stopped them doing that, that even that was a step too far perhaps, and they sliced her in two instead and tried to hide her somewhere in the church when patriarchy arrived and took over, fearful of the mother and her power.

Yet her power has never gone, not really. It cannot be taken from her. Men cannot carry or birth children. It is women that are afforded the opportunity for the transformation that this brings, for the surrendering that comes from the journey to motherhood and of motherhood itself, because there is a power and there is a connection and there is, without doubt, the sacred. I don’t mean that men don’t necessarily feel it, only that women get to touch it, to grow something within them that is part of the great mystery too.

Recently I have heard of a number of ladies who have miscarried or who are preparing for yet more IVF when they are able to access the clinics again and I am reminded how cruel this world can be, on this journey of fertility and conception, and yet how much light we can find if we surrender even to those most cruelest of moments of shattered dreams and yet more heart ache. This prepares us somehow, some of us, who have had to take that journey, for what lies ahead the faced with the choices we need to make with the children we may have brought into this world, who have chosen us because of the choices we might make for them, because we desperately wanted them and were conscious about inviting them in (others were conscious too, you don’t have to have had IVF or to have miscarried to be conscious about pregnancy and motherhood).

The choices are sometimes challenging, because often you have to go against the flow, your truth tells you so. Your anger and frustration reminds you so. It takes courage to follow a different path that has not been walked before, to trust that the unknown will hold you in its gentle bosom, and reveal a little more of its mystery to you, as you surrender to your own truth, come what may, and recognise that you do not have to be beholden to what others have decided is the way, who may not feel the same about life as you do, not really, to deep inside, not yet. It can be hard. But I find that worshipping the goddess gives strength, and the moon, well she, the beautiful moon, is supporting the process. It’s a fiery one; give voice to your truth, and allow a new path to reveal itself to you.

I hope you get to enjoy her energy and can sit with your emotions as they come up. This is the first of the eclipses in the eclipse season and I am told that this relates to what was happening in your life between 2010 and 2013. Funnily enough this was when we were finally settling with the idea of having children, and went one our journey through IVF to finally birth Elijah into this world. So I suppose it is interesting how much this is on my mind and I am reminded by others sharing their pains on their own journey to motherhood with me recently. The moon never lies, she always brings in that to which we need to give our attention. So I’ll go sit with that and see you on the other side!

Love Emma x

Please be kind and gentle to the children!

Please, if your child is screaming and clinging to you when you drop to him or her off at pre-school or school, don’t shout at them!

There is a reason that a child screams and you screaming back at them, or losing your temper or getting cross or, even worse, threatening them, is not going to help, its just going to make their experience traumatic 

There is a reason that a child screams and clings to you when you try to leave them at pre-school or school. They’re scared! You’re putting them in the unknown, separating them from you, and they are rightly anxious and in need of your support and love, not your harsh words!

They trust you, you’re their stability and here you are, handing them over, into a situation, and with people, with whom they have no trust whatsoever. Who wouldn’t be scared?!

 Having had a child of my own suffer with separation anxiety both at pre-school and school, I know only too well how distressing it is for both parent and child, but I also know deep in my heart that losing it with them (or telling them you are going to lose it with them, as I heard one mother tell her distressed and screaming son in the playground at school drop off this morning) is not going to solve the problem. All it is going to do is harden your child to this world, scar their heart and harm their soul.

 Why is it that adults feel that they can impose their will over their children, and do so with harsh words and brute force? To me, this is all that is wrong in this world. That even as parents we can’t just be kind and gentle to those we love the most and are meant to be looking after, and caring for, in this world.

Listen to your child. Why is he or she screaming? Take a moment to think which of their needs is not being met. What is it that they are trying to tell you? Sure, it can be extremely confronting to consider the manner in which your actions might have added to your child’s distress at being separated from you in the first place (have you been giving them enough attention and attending to their emotional needs, for example), but better to do this than just yell at them as if it is all their fault (they’re children!).

There is such a pressure in this world to conform to society’s expectations, and to promote this need for separation as if that is a good thing. What’s good about separating new-born babies from their mothers immediately following birth and popping them in plastic boxes albeit by your hospital bed, or in cots in another room all on their own at home, for example? Why the need to stop breastfeeding babies simply because of working commitments or societal norms, whether the little thing is ready or not.

On it goes, the pressure to get your child sleeping through the night so that you ignore their cries and let them, ‘cry it out’ as if that’s a good thing, imposing your will over them, when all their little hearts want is some comfort in the middle of the night, when it’s dark and they have woken scared, or perhaps hungry, and are desperate for another heart to be held against. But no, you ignore their cries because that is what you are meant to do because other member of society say so, to get a good night’s sleep, and they will adapt won’t they? 

Yes, they will, but a little bit of their soul is likely to have withered in the process, as another of their needs is not met. Their heart will bear the burden too, still craving that heart-to-heart contact, a compassion – will they one day find that comfort that they sought in the when they were a helpless baby? We can only hope that that’s the case, that they consider themselves worthy of the love that their parents neglected to give them in the middle of the night, or when they were scared about going to pre-school or school and were shouted at instead. 

I’m certainly not perfect and I am constantly learning how to be a gentler and kinder and more heart-led mother. Parenthood is not easy. My youngest is a few months away from turning three, and he is testing all the boundaries and is constantly doing rather naughty things. He still wakes in the night, at least once, and he likes to lie on my chest given the choice, so sleep is not something that we get a huge amount of, still, in this household.

But I feel it is worth this short-term sleep deprivation, because at least he knows that I am there for him when he needs me in the night. And the breastfeeding too continues until he is ready to stop, his immune system benefiting by each passing month. Both are not the norm, and people do think that we are crazy to put up with all the night time waking’s and heaven forbid that I might attempt to breastfeed my almost-three-year-old in public – it’s totally out of most people’s comfort zone.

Last year, during that first term, my eldest son cried most mornings as I dropped him to school, and it was all I could do to leave him in the classroom. Fortunately, the teachers were really compassionate and I was welcomed to stay as long as I needed, until I felt that he was settled – none of the ‘leave him crying and screaming and just run’ approach of the pre-school we initially chose and thankfully had the sense to stop fairly soon afterwards, albeit much of the damage had been done (why did I not trust my intuition and leave with him?! Oh yes, because every one told me that this was normal. Normal? It’s a crazy world we live in).

 Sure, my life has had to change considerably. I recognised that I hadn’t been there for him as much as he needed, that I hadn’t been meeting his emotional needs. I had been too busy working, too busy trying to achieve. So I gave up one of my jobs, which also meant giving up our financial security as well as a (false as it turns out) sense of identity. It was a big deal for me at the time, but I haven’t regretted it since. 

 Admittedly it took some time to adapt to all the seemingly endless trips to and fro from school, so that the day passes so quickly and very little else gets done in the interim (I’ve just taken a deep breath as we get back into the routine this term). But you do what you do, don’t you, for your children, for the next generation? You find a way. A kind way. One that you hope doesn’t damage them in the long-term, or give them the impression that their needs don’t matter. 

This is even more important if you are parenting one of the wave of sensitive children who have come in to this world in the last ten years or so. True gifts to the world they are, because they don’t fit in, they’re not meant to fit in, because they are going to show us another way to live, a more conscious, calm and peaceful way to live, if we let them guide us, rather that feeling we need to knock their sensitivity out of them. If you have a sensitive child then you need to nurture him or her, and their need for quiet space, meet them rather than expecting them to change to meet your expectations of what their life should look like.

For us, the changes to the way we lived, me prioritising my eldest son’s needs, seemed to work. By the end of the school year, he had settled and made one really good friend, who is a regular visitor at our house these days. He made other friends too and was OK about being separated from me, because he knew I was always there for him, that I had managed to find a way to make myself available to him. I’m grateful to his teachers too, for respecting and addressing his individual needs and doing all they could to help him settle.

Our children learn from us, and unless we can find a way to interact with them that doesn’t involve yelling at them when they do something that we don’t want them to do (like making a scene when they don’t want to go to school), then they’ll think that it’s OK to shout at, or threaten others if they don’t do what they want either. And on it goes from one generation to the next. So that this world never changes. More hurt hearts and people searching for their souls, lost and disillusioned, wondering where it all went wrong.  

This is our responsibility as human beings and as parents especially, to make the difference, to make this world a kinder and gentler and more compassionate place to live, and this has to start with how we not only treat ourselves, but equally as important, how we treat our children.

We don’t have to do things the way society expects us to do things, if that way doesn’t work for us, doesn’t have a heart, especially. Let’s face it, does this look like a happy society in which we are currently living? The rising anxiety and depression rates certainly don’t support this being a thriving society, to say nothing of the greed and quest for material wealth which is leading to exploitation of Mother Earth. No, we’re not thriving as a humanity and something will need to change.  

So if your child is having a hard time settling into pre-school or school, please don’t think that you have to act a certain way. That it needs to look a certain way. Please be gentle and kind and loving. Please don’t shout at them. Please try and find out what is bothering them and work together with the teachers and carers to find a way so that they may settle gently. Make sure you’re heard – if it doesn’t feel right, don’t leave them - and listen to your children.

And when your child wakes in the night needing comforting, please do go and give them your heart to rest their head upon. We need more awakened hearts in this world.

 xx

Mothering

It was a new moon in Gemini yesterday, and it wasn’t until a few days prior to that, when I had already started writing this blog posting, that I became aware this new moon is encouraging us to look honestly at what we want from our life and to speak our truth. On the back of this new moon energy, I share with you now my truth, but appreciate that it might not be anyone else’s truth. 

I’ve experienced a few Ayurvedic Pancha Karma in my time, but the one I had last week was probably the most intense in its release thus far. It could just have been the timing however, taking place a few days after that rather powerful Scorpio full moon and after a weekend in Glastonbury, the home of the Goddess. 

For those who don’t know, a Pancha Karma is basically a three-hour oil-based massage, which deeply penetrates the skin, loosening impurities and stimulating circulation. Hot poultices of Ayurvedic herbs are also applied, the herbs being absorbed through the pores in the skin.  

Shirodhara (my favourite) is then employed, where warm oil is poured in a gentle stream over the forehead, calming and pacifying the central nervous system, stilling the mind and senses, and allowing stress to be released (my main focus at the moment, releasing stress!). This is followed by a head and face massage, before steam treatment to help expel toxins.

 I’ve been on a bit of an emotional rollercoaster ever since, experiencing a healing crisis, where everything feels worse before it feels better. There have been many tears and my heart has been making itself known to me, clearly needing some healing. As painful as this has been at times, it has brought with it a pause for reflection, and finally some clarity, which has been a relief.

 I have felt that something has been amiss for a while now and yet I couldn’t quite put it into words, but now I feel able to do so, rightly or wrongly. My realisation will not necessarily resonate with you all, it’s just what’s relevant to me in my life right now.

Simply put, it seems to me that we women have been fed a lie, that we’re part of some big social experiment to see what happens in the name of empowerment. It is what women are pressured (in whatever way) to think they want, but has anyone actually thought about the wider cost.

Not only are women now fulfilling the role of provider (and main provider in many cases), and perching themselves on the ladder with the men, but they are also continuing, on the whole, with the role of householder and mother. There is a whole generation of women exhausted and depleted, living a life that is totally out of balance with their natural rhythm, because society deems that this is ‘the way’. 

“We’re empowered”, they shout out, “we can do everything that men do, and better too. We can run businesses, we can keep a house and raise a family. We can do it all”. 

However, no one really talks about the reality of what this truly means. No one talks about the fact that many women spend their day existing on a diet of coffee, chocolate and salad, eating on the go, never having time to properly refuel. Or the fact that women are so busy trying to hold it all together that as a society we now just accept this as a fact of modern living, “she’s just busy”, we say, “she’s got a demanding job and children”, we simply explain, and everyone knows what we mean. 

Many women are rushing through their life, from one appointment and meeting to the next, juggling all their various responsibilities and roles and trying to manage their time with their children as best they can. Some choose to do this because they want to have a career, other because they are not naturally gifted at motherhood (and don’t usually mind admitting it) and there are those who do it out of necessity as they need an income (and therefore don’t have a choice).

I suppose it is the lack of choice for many that saddens me the most, because while they might rather be at home with their children, society offers them little support to achieve this. In Sweden, for example, both parents receive 480 days’ parental allowance per child, and in the case of multiple births, an additional 180 days are granted for each additional child.

When I birthed Elijah back in 2013, I was only eligible for 3 month’s maternity leave, thankfully by 2016 and the arrival of Eben, this had increased to 6 months. However, by then I didn’t want to be dictated to by the workplace about when I should return post-baby, so I quit my job while pregnant and gave up the opportunity for maternity pay in favour of keeping my freedom to stay with my baby until I chose to return to the workplace. 

But even then, I felt a pressure to return after 6 months, because it just felt that I should be working and earning a proper income. It hadn’t crossed my mind that I might just stay at home with the boys. I had a well-paid professional role in the finance industry, wouldn’t I be mad to just give that up? The truth is, and I didn’t recognise this until recently, that so much of my identity was tied up in my job, I didn’t know how to be any other way. 

In many respects, this is the reason that many women are leaving it later and later to begin a family, because they have invested a lot of time and energy into their careers, and their whole identity is tied into it. Many don’t want to jeopardise this by falling pregnant, and hold out until they can no longer ignore their biological clock ticking. By then many need fertility treatments to help them, if not because of age, then because of increased stress levels.

It is these women, and other women too, who have their children and return to the workplace, because it is expected of them (because they expect it of themselves as much as anything else), who are then constantly torn in two. Like me, they might not have appreciated the demands of motherhood and by then it’s too late, they have to keep working because they need the income/have become used to the income/their whole identity is tied into the income, and yet they miss their children, and are trying to manage both the demands of motherhood with the demands of the workplace. 

We just keep going though don’t we, us women, whether we enjoy it or not, whether we chose it or not, whether we want it or not. We’re empowered and we can do it all. We can run businesses, have top careers and still raise a family. Look how much we admire female entrepreneurs and look up to them as role models – giving birth to children and running their businesses the next day!   

But the question is, are we women thriving? Are our young people thriving? Is society thriving? Are we all better off for it? If the rising depression, anxiety and stress rates are anything to go by, then I think not.

All I ever wanted to be since I was little, was a mother one day. Yet society was never particularly encouraging of this, the focus was always on academic success and a career. There was a sense that to be a successful woman living in this 21stcentury, I needed to be so much more than ‘just’ a mother to fulfil my potential. Instead, I need to be up there fighting for a perch with the men, or out there with all the other women attempting to change the world by running their own businesses. 

I am slowly coming to recognise that this does not need to be the case. For me now, fulfilling my potential means being a good mum to my two boys. It’s not about earning lots of money in finance or running my own business, it’s not even about publishing books or having my own healing space. Admittedly, the latter two are dreams, but they should not be confused with what it means to fulfil my potential, because then they become distractions from the truth.

Furthermore, when we talk about purpose and dharma particularly – what are we here on this earth to do - I might talk about teaching yoga and sharing Reiki with others, writing perhaps too, but truth be told, it’s being a mum. Everything else becomes irrelevant, really, when I consider the most sacred of duties that I could ever have been gifted in this lifetime is the one of mothering my own children.

Sure, when I die, it might be nice to be remembered for teaching a couple of inspiring yoga classes, or helping someone in their life, but I’d really like to be remembered more so for being a good mum to my children.  That’s my life work. My children couldn’t care less about what I do either and regularly groan because I’m off to teach another yoga class. All they care about is spending time with me. 

It’s a relief to finally recognise this after feeling adrift for a while now, wondering what’s next. It was almost as if the children arrived (and not without some challenge and heart ache may I add) and I ticked a box, OK that’s the children done, now what? And on I went with the next challenge, publishing books, as if time was somehow running out and all those dreams needed to be achieved overnight, and because I’m an empowered woman and that’s what we do.

But it was bothering me. Something didn’t feel right. My increasing stress levels were an indication that all was not well but I just couldn’t see any other way. This was how I had been trained to live since as long as I can remember – the focus on working and results and achieving. Furthermore, society supported this and the quest for it.

As I mentioned earlier, I returned to work three months after Elijah was born, expressing breastmilk in the toilets so that he could be fed by my Mum (fortunately) while I was in the office. None of it felt right but I did it because it was what was expected of me. Not once did I sit down and seriously think about whether I might stay at home with my son, especially during those early months.

In the workplace, there was little allowance for the impact that the transition to motherhood may have had on me and my life. I was expected to show up just the same as I had done pre-baby and yet absolutely everything had changed. There were the endless sleepless nights to navigate, let alone the breastfeeding and the hormonal changes of the post-natal period (which goes on for a good two years’ post-baby). There was this relentless and constant rushing and an overwhelming sense of guilt that I wasn’t with my son at home.  

Admittedly there were bills and the mortgage to pay, but when I think back, we could have found a way. We could have made other sacrifices, gone on less trips, cut back on other expenses. Ayurveda focuses on causative factors rather than symptoms and I now know with absolute certainty that this is when the stress, with which I have been working this last year, set-in. 

 I’ve been slowly trying to unravel from this and find my balance after five years of living a life out of balance, doing too much and not being as present to my children as I might have once intended. Furthermore, I have been seeking my truth, trying to navigate my way through my societal and academic conditioning, to recognise and hear what I feel deep down in my heart.

My body has been nudging me with its physical expression of stress, and the overwhelming tiredness. And I started to make changes, to re-prioritise my life bit by bit, to spend more time with the children. But there has still been this restlessness, this panic at times, “but what if I miss an opportunity to fulfil my potential, what if I don’t make my dreams come true because I’m spending all my time with my children”.

Now I have clarity I can laugh at the irony of it. It’s like the red herring. The answer has been staring at me in the face, as if the ‘child’ angel card I’ve repeatedly received over the last few months hasn’t been enough, and the photos of my children on my altar in front of which I practice yoga every day, let alone the words of my Ayurvedic doctor and Reiki friend, trying to signpost the path ahead in their gentle ways if only I would listen (and get beyond my conditioning that makes changing my mind so difficult).

It’s very easy to get super busy, to work and work and work, to make things happen, to run a business, to fulfil superficial dreams, to fulfil our potential according to society, when all the while the greatest dream, the greatest miracle, the greatest potential, well they’re growing up, and if I’m not careful – if we’re not careful – I’ll miss it, we’ll miss it. 

There is a whole generation of women torn and a whole generation of children being cared for by nursery workers and child minders, grandparents too if they’re lucky. Where did it all go so wrong? Why did we feel such a great drive to get out of the home? Isn’t the home where the heart is? Isn’t this what gives stability and love to our children? Isn’t this the very root of society?

I know that I am not alone. I take my hat off to those women who make the decision from the outset to stay at home with their children. It can’t be an easy decision to make and I have noticed that there is often some reluctance in admitting that “I’m just a stay at home mum” as if that is not enough somehow. It is sad to think that in our quest for empowerment, of the modern need to be someone, that there is now a stigma attached to being at home with our children, as if that is shameful. 

 I have a friend who is a full-time mum to her children and arranges child-care so that she can have a break and attend a yoga class once a week. She sadly feels that she has to justify this to people, and I think, good on you, being at home with young children is really challenging. I used to find going to work in the office easy in comparison. 

A few days ago I was feeling really peeved about all this, for buying into the whole women’s empowerment movement, without really being conscious of what I was giving up in the process. It’s been depressing in many respects too, to recognise that I am a cliché of what it means to be a woman in the twenty first century. 

I was raised to be different, not to follow others like a sheep, to question and think for myself. Yet I never did enough questioning. Perhaps this is what saddens me the most, now realising that I’ve bought into the illusion that this is what us women want and this is the life we must lead if we are to be empowered. This being a life lived on empty and always so busy.

It’s not surprising that increasing numbers of women are turning to yoga and meditation as they seek a time out from the craziness of the life lived in their heads and look for meaning in their lives. 

It’s also not surprising that the divine feminine has appeared into our lives, infusing mainstream spiritualism, encouraging us to connect with our inner goddess. I’m all up for this, I love nothing more than yoni yoga and the more feminine approach to yoga, but I have become completely turned off with the ‘rise, sister, rise’ theme.

Where do we women think we need to rise to? Have we not risen enough? Are we not empowered enough? What more do we want? 

There is a whole genre of books written around this theme and I can’t help noticing that many of the women writing them have not yet birthed children. Because let’s face it, the divine feminine can’t get any more manifest than as the mother. She is the mother! She has been revered for centuries for her power. 

Even here in Guernsey, there are two statues in her honour from pre-Christian times, one outside St Martin’s church and the other at Castel church, known as La Gran’mère du Chimquière. When I visited this Pagan earth mother at St Martin’s church this morning, I noticed that someone has placed a  chain of sweet peas around her neck because we are still celebrating her, even today (maybe even more so today). 

She is not asking us to compete with the men, nor run our own businesses, or become female entrepreneurs. She is not asking us to work harder and spend even more time in our heads and away from our children (although sadly this is what I see, even amongst yoga teachers who are spreading ‘her’ wisdom).

She is here to ask us to get back into our bodies, to come home to ourselves, to our families and to Mother Earth. She is asking us to get back in touch with our natural rhythms, to connect to the moon and our own inner cycles. She is asking us to step up as mothers, to reclaim that which we have lost in the name of empowerment. 

Yesterday I randomly chose the Green Tara goddess card. She rescues us by empowering us to save ourselves. I couldn’t help thinking that this card was rather appropriate timing – yes, Green Tara, we need you in our lives, helping to empower us to save ourselves, our femininity, and our opportunity for motherhood. I certainly need you.

This is what the world needs, this is what society is crying out for: mothering. We need to honour the mother again.

Anyone who has lost a mother will know what a loss it is. 

Like Mother Earth, women have been exploited for too long now. 

We need to re-build the home. 

This doesn’t mean we need to stop working. I can honestly say that if I didn’t share my passion for teaching yoga and Reiki, and have a break from the children in the process, for example, then I would go slowly mad. It just means that we need to feel that we have a genuine choice again.

We need to respect the mother and all that she brings, not only to the family but to society and to the planet. 

Society needs to wake up and re-prioritise, recognise what is most important. We need to honour and respect the mother again. 

I’m really proud to be a mum. It is not only my greatest achievement, but also the most difficult job I suspect I shall ever have in this lifetime. 

It has brought me fully into myself, and I have learned more about myself since becoming a mother than I ever learned on my yoga mat in the years previous to this. Motherhood is the practice! Children help us to engage completely - and consciously – with life: it’s Tantra!

Every day my boys provide me the opportunity to try to be a gentler, kinder and more compassionate human being. I’ve become increasingly aware of the times when I am not this, when they trigger me and I react before catching myself and taking a breath – when I become unconscious. There is a certain humility that accompanies this awareness. I am constantly given the opportunity to learn how to be a better human being and a better mum.  

My boys have brought me back to earth. They have helped me to turn a house into a home. They have helped me to recognise the need to take better care of myself. They have taught me what it means to love unconditionally. They have helped me to recognise that being a mother is enough. 

I shall end this post with a poem from Hafiz:

And still, after all this time,

The sun never says to the earth

“You owe Me”.

Look what happens with 

A love like that,

It lights the whole sky”.