The Mother and Our Pain

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Written on January 20, 2017. 

Yesterday I felt sad so I distracted myself, every now and then sinking in and then coming up for air when I felt like I was drowning. Today I felt sad again. I had a primal urge to call my mom. Then the dam broke, my heart opened, and the tears flowed. I felt the pain of realizing that as much as my mother loves me, she could only love me so much, as a human can. Her unconditional love can still never match the unconditional love that I receive from Nature, Spirit, God; whatever you’d like to call it. As I cried, I remembered that I am grown now, an adult, a woman standing tall in the line of my ancestors. I looked behind me and saw where my mother came from, how she had to rise up and stand strong at a very young age, becoming a second mom to her younger brother. I looked even farther back and saw my grandmother, who recently left this world and passed over to the other side. I felt a surge of pure compassion for them and the women that came before them. They’ve all done the work that they were able to and here I am, doing mine. 

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As much as I’ve learned on my journey, I still find myself resisting the pain that sometimes comes. Even though my own song says “We exist to resist the pain that sooner or later we must face.”, I still push it away, even if just with one tiny finger. It can be excruciating to feel something so strongly but not know where it comes from. I’m finding that the sooner I sink into the pain, the sooner it reveals itself and shows its origin. Then I can lay down and curl up, let the waves take over and the tears flow, and allow the process to happen. 


When I was young, I used to get so wrapped up in the sadness that would come snaking in. I would slide down a dark hole and remain in the bottom of the cave of my mind for weeks at a time.

I grew to love the darkness as much as I loathed it, and when the sun would come out, I shielded my eyes at the blinding brightness and welcomed the clouds that would inevitably return.

Now that I live in the sunshine of myself most times, those cloudy days feel very uncomfortable. It takes a great strength to lift my head to the clouds and allow the rain to wash over me, but each time it happens, I gather a little more power and surrender to the pain, for the pain is what brings lessons, the pain is what brings the eventual light, the pain is the catalyst for transformation. 

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