Self-Practice: Mother

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I wrote these words one year ago today, in a more private space. Today, it feels appropriate to share them. To celebrate and offer gratitude. 

There is no one in my 7am class and so I practice.  Reach and fold. My mind whispers “mother”. Step back and lower. mother. press up, back bend, press back down dog. mother. I breath and move and whisper acknowledgement, gratitude. I inhale the ways I am like her and exhale the ways we are different. And then there will be tears so I distract myself. I challenge my body. I work on things I can’t do yet, things that scare me. I forget for a moment and breathe and work and shake and fall. Perseverance. Humility. (Distraction. Presence by necessity.) Until I’ve had enough and I collapse on the floor. mother. I stretch and twist and rest. mother. I bow. mother. I called her mom, not mother, but today this word comes and it feels like respect. A nod to all I cannot know about the responsibility and connection that comes with birthing a child. Gratitude for all she did for me, especially the things I didn’t see. I am learning to mother myself and this is spiritual work. Sometimes I do this badly, and I try to learn from it when I do. May I learn. May I mother myself and my work to the best of my ability and may I be gentle with myself when I fail. May I honor her and her gifts by sharing my own. May the part of her I see in the birds and the trees and my family know how grateful I am.

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