We are every age we’ve ever been. That means there’s still a 22-year-old, a 12-year-old, a 2-year-old, an infant inside us. Just because we physically age doesn’t mean those younger parts disappear. They live within and they need the same things now that they needed then. My inner infant still needs to be held. My 5-year-old still wants to play. And all of my parts still need to be mothered.
I’m lucky that my mother is still alive and we have a good relationship. It’s something I cherish, being able to call her up in my time of need, whether that’s to hear her perspective or ask how to do something. And at the same time, I’ve had to learn how to mother myself. As Donna Ashworth says, not all mothers are mothers. She goes on to write the following:
“Some mothers are aunts by blood, or by royal appointment. Some are sisters, best friends, with safe spaces for laps and listening ears so large they can hear silent cries. Some are teachers who will be remembered lifelong for all the right reasons. Not all mothers are mothers. And if you have one in your life, you are blessed. They have much love to give. And they are walking around this earth with nurture flowing out of their pores. Not all mothers are mothers, but oh how they mother. And this world should throw petals at their mothering feet, as they teach us all, how unconditional love is done.”
And while it’s true that not all mothers are mothers, and sometimes mothering comes from a friend or a teacher, it also comes from ourselves. It’s the self that lets you cry so hard you start to hiccup. It’s the self that allows the full, authentic expression of who you are without needing to change one thing. It’s the self that says, “I’m still here, I’m not going anywhere.” It’s the self that feeds you nourishing food. It’s also the one that sets boundaries and says, “It’s time for bed.”
We could all use some of this. Photo by Matt Hoffman on Unsplash
Mothering is a constant process because as long as you’re alive, you’ll always need mothering. There’s also the Great Mother, and by that I mean a loving higher power. In my spiritual tradition, we say that divine bliss and grace are always being showered upon each and every being but we don’t feel it because we’re holding the umbrella of vanity or ego over our heads. If we want to be drenched by that divine shower, we have to remove the umbrella.
Removing the umbrella means admitting we need care, nurturing, and support. But it’s also being brave enough to feel it, whether that’s from ourselves, another, or a higher power. It’s being willing to receive that love. But it’s also remembering that even if we aren’t ready, the mother is still there loving us, nurturing us, holding us, whispering, “I’m here when you need me.”
I dream of a world where we recognize we’ll always need to be mothered. A world where we offer ourselves the nurturing, love, care, and support we need. A world where we recognize there’s also a Great Mother that is showering us with divine bliss and grace. A world where we understand even if we don’t feel it, that love is always there and the choice is up to us whether we let ourselves be mothered.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
All week I’ve been thinking about how people are complicated and contradictory. A person can be a mass murderer and an excellent dog parent. A man can beat his wife and act meek at work. A woman can preach love and kindness and be sharp and cutting with her inner circle. Instead of trying to puzzle out which side is the “real them,” my perspective is it’s all them.
Walt Whitman speaks to this in one of his poems when he writes, “Do I contradict myself? / Very well then I contradict myself, / (I am large, I contain multitudes.)” In therapy, this contradiction is recognized via the modality “Internal Family Systems,” also known as parts work. The traditional form of IFS categorizes the various parts of a person into three roles:
- Managers, who seek to control surroundings, manage emotions, and navigate tasks in daily life.
- Exiles, or parts that hold hurt, fear, and shame that are tucked away and hidden from conscious awareness.
- Firefighters, who seek to inhibit difficult emotions by any means necessary such as addiction.
Personally, I find those categories too limiting. For instance, I’ve done a lot of trauma and recovery work so the parts of me that hold hurt, fear, and shame are not exiled – they are seen, heard, and accepted. Regardless, what I appreciate about parts work is it recognizes how complex humans are – that we contradict ourselves and act in surprising ways. And instead of focusing on one part or another part, IFS emphasizes embracing all of it. IFS says the part of you that flies into a rage is just as much you as the part that weeps over a sunset. It’s ALL you.
We are everything. Photo by Austin Neill on Unsplash
Our society very much likes polarization and black-and-white thinking. “This person is a monster! This person is a saint! This thing is good! This thing is bad!” But that’s not true. Reality is nuanced. People are nuanced. You can be a little bit right and a little bit wrong AT THE SAME TIME! Baffling, right? But it’s true.
This is something I appreciate about my spiritual tradition – it emphasizes embracing everything. It doesn’t say this thing is an expression of an infinite loving consciousness but that thing is not. It doesn’t say, “You’re only allowed to feel happy and peaceful all the time.” No, my spiritual tradition says, “You’re human, you have instincts and emotions and we want you to feel those too. We want you to recognize those parts of you are also sacred and holy.”
Gorgeous, right? We practice viewing everything as sacred with something called madhuvidyá, which literally means “honey knowledge.” It’s a sort of magic wand that transforms your thinking when done well. My spiritual teacher says, “This madhuvidyá will pervade your exterior and interior with … [ecstasy] and will permanently alleviate all your afflictions. Then the ferocious jaws of [degeneration] cannot come and devour you. The glory of one and only one benign entity will shine forth to you from one and all objects.”
The practice of madhuvidyá says even this thing I don’t like or perhaps even hate is an expression of an infinite loving consciousness. Practicing madhuvidyá means I’m able to see beyond the surface of people, places, and things to witness their true form. I recognize everything is Brahma, Cosmic Consciousness, Source, the Universe, whatever name you have for it. And just as the universe is vast, complicated, and contradictory, people are too. As a reflection of Cosmic Consciousness, we contain multitudes.
I dream of a world where we understand people are not one way or another. A world where we recognize people have parts of themselves that get expressed at different times. A world where instead of thinking one part is real and another is false, we understand that all of it is true. A world where we remember that as reflections of Cosmic Consciousness, we contain multitudes.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.