The Three Best Gifts You Can Give Mom This Mother's Day

Let's face it, Mother's Day is a complicated holiday. And mother-child relationships are probably the most complex and intimate relationships on the planet. Mothering has become such an exulted profession that it's hard for many of us to acknowledge or feel the many, often conflicting truths, of that relationship. 

For example, I have a friend who lost her 93 year old mother only six weeks ago. She and her sister had a tight relationship with their mother, who weathered partner abuse when the girls were young and endured despite it. My girlfriend has been overwhelmed by grief for the loss of her mother in recent weeks. Today she will stay home and avoid Facebook and social media, waiting for this day to end when her heartache won't be so visible.

Another friend has four daughters who barely speak to her anymore. They took the father's side in a divorce, and constantly criticize, belittle and disrespect their mother when they are around her. The abuse she took from her ex-husband now comes at her through her daughters. She will also be staying inside with the shades drawn today, waiting for tomorrow, when she can get back to work and not dwell on her loss.

Still another friend is childless, who had multiple miscarriages and one abortion many years ago. Although she is single, she still deeply desires the blessing of children, yet remains childless. Her feelings today more complicated than I can imagine.

And then there is the mother who works three jobs to support her family, or the one that had the baby of an unexpected pregnancy who can't find a job that pays enough for her to cover day care, or the mom who's husband trips over his own feet as he leaves the local bar but makes it home only to slap her around while the children pretend to sleep - the mothers who endure just to survive. 

I'm sure if you chatted with your friends, you might come up with a dozens of other examples of why this day is fraught with angst for so many women.

This "holiday" in American culture has become a capitalist perversion of what it was intended to be when it was first thought of back in 1905. It wasn't long (less than 20 years later) before even the founder of Mother's Day, Anna Jarvis, tried to have it rescinded due to the commercialized tone it had taken. 

Glorifying all mothers, a superficial acknowledgement to women, and commercializing motherhood does not make the world a better place. Only a more confused one.

I've thought about this a lot over the years. Although we are now in a state of equilibrium, my relationship with my own mother has been tumultuous at times. And as to my own parenting? Ugh. Even when I thought I was doing my best, I had a partner who was still able to sexually abuse our daughter. There are experiences that haunt us for the rest of our lives.

So this mother's day, I'm not sending flowers, buying gifts or wishing strangers I see in my daily walks a Happy Mother's Day. It's hard to take this different path. Everyone's experiences are far too different, incredibly personal and belong to them. I don't wish to do more harm, although I worry that I still might. 

Ideas for women or mothers in your life that go a little deeper than flowers and gifts, especially during this pandemic? How about:

• A phone call to check in. Ask them how they are doing, what they need, if they would like to talk. Let them know they're not alone. Practice the art of listening well. 
• If you're close to a friend who is feeling loss, providing a meal or other sort of nourishment is helpful. In particularly profound times of grief, managing to get clothes on is a challenge; fixing a nutritious meal is a luxury. 
• Show up to vote! Vote for women and mom friendly candidates and policies. Write letters to your representatives to let them know where you stand, why taking care of mothers is important. 

Listen. Nourish. Support with your vote. These are the best gifts I can give to myself and the mothers in my life in 2020. 

Namaste. 

What If There Really Are No Mistakes?

I doubt there is anyone among us who has not experienced grief or loss in one aspect or another. Last week, my guest blogger, Uma Girish, shared some of her journey through grief in healing from her mother’s death. Because of the pain and suffering she experienced over the loss of her mother, she was able to find a deep personal transformation. She offered the perspective of Rev. Michael Beckwith who said “Crisis ignites evolution” as resonant of her own experience now that she has come out on the other side of her grief and found her joy again.


Her story reminds me of the notion that I have been sitting with for quite some time now. What if there are no mistakes? What if everything that happens to us and that continues to unfold in our lives, even the events that we judge to be bad, traumatic or wrong, are really here to awaken us to our own personal journey of transformation? What if everything, including death, is really a catalyst for our own evolution?

I believe this to be true of my abortion and subsequent miscarriage many years ago. Those events triggered a personal crisis for me that literally compelled me to make a choice between life and death. Sometimes we need a calamity of remarkable significance in our lives to motivate us to change. The experience of shame, pain and grief were unquestionably the impetus for my own personal transformation.

Brene Brown writes in her book Daring Greatly, about an interview she had with Peter Sheahan, the CEO of ChangeLabs, a global consultancy firm. Based on his experience, he believes that “The secret killer of innovation is shame.” It makes people afraid to speak up, to take risks, to be truly creative.

I wonder what it would be like to live in a world where we don’t have to rely on a disastrous event happening in order to evolve: a world where we are allowed to feel our pain, shame and other difficult emotions and then leave them in the past for good.


I read recently about the Babemba tribe in Africa that takes a unique approach to handling “mistakes” within the tribe. Rather than punishing or shaming the person, they surround him or her in a circle of their entire community. They would then take turns sharing their observations of all the positive attributes of that individual. Rather than tearing them apart, they build-up that person’s self-esteem, reminding them of all the goodness they hold inside of them.

I wonder what a different world this would be if we could adopt that practice on a larger scale. What if there are no mistakes, only goodness in each one of us? Think about how quickly we could cycle through the elements of fear and shame that hold us back from fully living our potential.

For women who have had an abortion, this shift in mindset would enable them to feel and express their emotions freely and authentically, without fear of judgment. They might then begin to see their experience with curiosity and explore the potential of it for their own personal growth, rather than using their energy to keep hidden this part of their past.

What a radical thought: to accept all of ourselves and our behavior as part of an experience of transformation.


Just like the Babemba Tribe, I think we might just find a more beautiful world…

Namaste.

 

Walking Through the Fire of Grief

My guest blogger today is Uma Girish. Uma is a Grief Guide, Dream Coach and award-winning author. Her eBook “Understanding Death: 10 Ways to Inner Peace for the Grieving” is available on Amazon and iTunes. She hosts a weekly radio show for the Creating Calm Network called The Grammar of Grief. You can find her archived shows at http://grammarofgrief.creatingcalmnetwork.com

When my beloved Amma (mother) transitioned on January 27, 2009, my world went dark in one terrifying instant. After wallowing in the Why’s for weeks—why me, why this, why now—pinpricks of light began to penetrate the darkness. Slowly, realization dawned on me that I had to change my vocabulary. In fact, I had to learn a whole new language.

Surrender. Acceptance. Purpose. Meaning. And, finally, I could begin to taste true Joy.

Moving forward was impossible without acceptance. Amma died. I had to swallow those words, digest them and make them a part of my very being. This wasn’t about punishment. It wasn’t about being singled out by an angry God. It was simply about being on a human journey where duality is reality: light/dark, sadness/happiness, life/death. 

I surrendered to the pain of grief. I allowed myself to be a vessel for feelings to wash through: sadness, hurt, envy, resentment. I felt them all at different times along the grief journey.

When I entered deeply into the experience of loss, I knew in the deepest part of my being that it was inextricably linked to my purpose. My transformation was impossible without this event. “Crisis ignites evolution” says Michael Bernard Beckwith in his book Life Visioning. This was my crisis, my butterfly-emerging-from-the-cocoon moment.

I’d walked through the fire of loss. I was changed when I came out the other side. I could never go back to being who I used to be. And, on some levels, I don’t even want to. Transformation brings with it gifts, but only if we’re open to receiving them. You have to open the doors of your heart and allow complicated feelings in—loss, fear, sadness, pain and abandonment. Joy lives alongside them. How much joy you experience is directly dependent on how much pain you allow yourself to feel.


Inside every painful experience lives meaning. It’s the only reason we have pain in this life. We can let pain stop us in our tracks, or venture boldly into the exploration “How is this death relevant to my journey? What am I meant to do with this pain?”

When I discovered the answers to those questions, my pain alchemized into purpose. From that place was born my Chapter Two. My twin loves, teaching and writing, had more depth, meaning and passion. I was lit up every time I was asked to share my experience of loss—as I’m feeling this moment, writing these words. That is the purpose of my pain. To reach out a hand and connect with you. To let you know that you’re not alone. To help heal your heavy heart as a fellow soul-traveler.

One thin strand of light is all it takes to pierce the blackness. Allow your soul to welcome the transformation. Your life matters—no matter how deep your pain. Your life has meaning—if you look for it inside your heart. Your life is not about you—but the lives of everyone you touch.


To buy Uma's transformational memoir “Losing Amma, Finding Home: A Memoir About Love, Loss and Life’s Detours” published by Hay House, visit www.umagirish.com