If we can’t see it, can it be true?
The work of the mother is unseen, often invisible
As mothers, the world we inhabit can be intangible
and this disconnect between the inner and outer worlds presents such a vulnerability for our emotional health. Yet, seeing this in a bigger sense, taught me that our families and the world needs this tender, invisible lens of motherhood.
In between the events that happen
Anticipating, waiting, dissipating unseen
It is spiritual, connecting deeply with other realms
Telepathically with another soul
As it is part of our soul
Auras connected, entwined
Yet this huge invisible emotional web that feels so massive
And has lead me in such tender dark spaces feeling it
Alone
The huge ancestral and emotional threads that cannot be seen
So go unacknowledged, yet
How does that feel to our soul?
I often wonder how much the inner world of mothers
If tended, could whisper through the outer world
And support both mother and child
I remember so many fears and questions around my children
dismissed with a
“We can’t find anything wrong” from professionals which somehow left a hole inside of doubt. Or “Try not to worry so much”
Maybe I made the whole thing up?
Maybe it was just the sickness of the whole disconnect
Which made us all ill at that time
But I could feel the illness in the life that was being lived
Adrift from the emotional and spiritual threads
And the voices of the grandmothers in my head
I was referred to mental health services
And the emotion inside me pathologized
My intuition gaslighted
I only had one appointment when I realised
The futility of the whole situation
And sought the healer within
An eleven year road still walking
So grateful for every step clearing all that wasn’t true
Without shared experience, mother’s work is invalidated
Mother is isolated
alone
And her emotions unwitnessed
And for our souls this can lead to separation or dissociation
Validating our experiences and our watery emotional wisdom is self-care
Otherwise, it disappears somehow
Lost in the moment and never really touches where it was meant
The ancestral connection is so magnetic,
The mother is a live wire, attracting the lightning bolts
Her heart so attuned to feel and know
The tuning in, feeling the threads from our heart
Tangling often when they touch our sore parts
Entwining our stories
With those we never met
These moments can pull mothers down
But they can also be the portals to new ways
Of embracing the journeying between worlds
Bringing the healing through to change our lived experiences
I feel my voice when I am with my children
The fears rising in throat shifting to soft reassurance
For them and for me
The anger that transmutes to stiffness until I bring my heart to soften
The gentle voice I find
For them
The mirroring back of the goodness
Noticing the beauty in another
Sharing the wonder and the joy
The sadness
I wonder why now I have changed so much
Within and without
And I see it all so clearly
I never thought
To save the gentlest voice,
The one who heard and felt it all
To save that tender healing voice
For me
and reflect that back
for other mothers to feel
and see