Speak to Me of Mothering

The meditation format I encountered at a workshop last week brings spiritual practice into a venue I can use on a daily basis. It consists of sitting in meditation and writing down a question or topic, then focusing on the breath until you feel moved to write a response. It's a form of channeling. Then, there's a twist. You write back to the higher energy or being that sent you the response.

In my case, I've dubbed this higher being, Cara (beloved in Italian). For many years, I thought of Cara as a kind of spirit guide or guardian angel. I find, today, that she's within me, possibly my higher self.

The first time I posed a question in this meditation format, it felt fake until I wrote the words "Speak to me of . . ." I want to honor the book, The Prophet by Kahlil Gibran from which this phrase comes. I haven't thought of it in years but I find that I have almost memorized most of the entries as I speak my questions.

This morning I asked Cara to speak to me of children; after breathing for awhile, I changed it to: Speak to me of mothering. After some time, the answer came, "Mothering is an illusion of perfection. Think bigger."

Filled with gratitude, I recognize my standard for my own mothering is perfection, a standard much in question. My standard for my mother was perfection as well. Mothers, clearly, should be perfect in my limited concept. Bigger, she said. My standard for how life SHOULD treat me is perfection.

I see the error of my ways. Expectations mean that no one and nothing can be enough. Nor can I.

The Prophet wrote of children: "Your children are not your children; they are the sons and daughters of life. They come through you but are not of you." Mothering is taking care of someone who temporarily can't take care of itself. That's all. And so it is. Anne