Here I am, mother of boys, keeping watch on these two little specks in the distance as they joyfully throw themselves in the waves. I was talking with my friend about the unique place a mother of sons has in making the future men of the world. I thought of all she’s done as a woman and mother that has created thousands of beneficial imprints for her son, and the man he’s becoming. I felt great hope for the future in this one mothering piece that largely goes unnoticed, except for by other mothers like me. I know what she’s given and how it matters greatly. And then so many other great mothers of sons came to mind. I thought of these mothers and their sons as I watched these boys in the ocean. Such peace and happiness I felt knowing so many mothers are there keeping watch, channeling the sacred if their own way, blessing the men of the future.
Why did I invite a 14-year-old to create the music for my new book trailer? My son Nick is a talented musician. But beyond valuing his musical ability, I encourage him to take creative risks. I challenge him to follow his inspiration and bring his music into new areas, playing songs that stretch his ability without thinking too much about how he sounds. I want him to experiment with creative energy and let that influence what he makes, without the critical voice limiting his form. This is why I asked him to create the music for the book trailer video for Wild Creative. He began by feeling the essence of the video and creating a series of chord progressions. Then we went into a recording studio, with a professional musician guiding the process, and laid down a keyboard track, an acoustic guitar, and finally an electric guitar track. Step by step, he matched the tone of the music with the visual expression. I went into the process trusting whatever he would create, but also not knowing how he would handle being creative in this way. My favorite part of creativity is working with (or witnessing) the energy without knowing what will happen––that’s when the real beauty unfolds. Seeing Nick that day in the studio was a proud mama moment. I was proud of what he created, but I was even more proud that he could stand at the creative edge and make his music from that place.
To the person who walked into a Portland bookstore and ordered 20 copies of Mothering from Your Center. THANK YOU. You’ve done more good than you know. Book stores and publishers pay attention to book numbers sold. It indicates worth. And when someone places an order like that, it conveys clear value for the book and the work. Bringing out Mothering from Your Center this past year has been a blessing and a challenge. So many readers of the book have reached out to give thanks for the medicine it contains. But it’s also shown me once again the divide between what we value as a culture and the creative potential in the female body. By default, mothering and all sacred realms of the feminine are devalued. And that’s not going to change until women themselves hold their creative centers as precious and holy. To restore this medicine and knowledge, please buy and share these books. Write reviews, talk to friends, buy them as gifts for your sisters (thank you to those who have). More than a book about mothering, this book is about the potency of the spirit door within us. If we want our sons and daughters of the future to know the blessing of who they are–we must first know the blessing of the female body and the spirit door it contains. And to whoever walked into a Portland bookstore to order 20 copies of MFYC, from the depth of my mothering heart THANK YOU for this act to revive the feminine and give back its rightful value.
This summer, I stayed with my youngest son for fourteen days in the hospital after a ruptured appendix. We celebrated his fifth birthday there on the summer solstice. As a healer, I knew that his body mind and spirit would also require extended healing beyond the urgent care period. The busyness of life tends to move on, but I have always viewed illnesses with my children as times of retreat. And so we deepened into the experience with extra rest, consultations with our naturopath, and daily power berry smoothies that we created specifically for his healing (see the recipe in my upcoming book: Mothering from Your Center). He and I traveled to Seattle by train several times to see a bodywork specialist trained in the Barral method of Visceral Manipulation (to restore full vitality to the organs). We found an amazing Thai restaurant, stepped into the sense of adventure that train travel invites, and relished our time spent together in this intimate way. This is the way of mothering with the feminine.
For the past decade, I’ve been witnessing the future of women’s health in my office. The combination of physical medicine, from my background as a women’s health physical therapist, with the energy tools I’ve developed by working closely with the female body is a potent combination. I’ve had women travel from across the country to receive care with extraordinary results in addressing chronic issues and restoring vitality. The absence of holistic tools in mainstream medicine is most evident in women’s health where the true needs of the pelvic bowl are hardly addressed. This is illustrated by new reports of the pitfalls of pelvic surgery and the inadequacy of PaP exams for preventing or addressing pelvic issues.
What the pelvic bowl needs is good alignment in the organs and muscles, vibrant chi–or energy–and blood flow (which enhances cellular health and hormonal circulation), and a woman who is in touch with this powerful core energy to guide her life and give expression to her creative dreams. I am blessed to sit with women every week, assisting them in vibrant pelvic health and a relationship with the potential in their bodies. I am delighted to share this potential with other healers as I teach Holistic Pelvic Care to a growing list of dynamic providers. In France, women receive 10-20 state-sponsored sessions of pelvic physical therapy for basic postpartum care (see article). I look forward to the day when women around the globe have access to physical & energetic medicine for cultivating a radiant pelvic bowl as routine care. Now that will be a sign of progress for the wild feminine!
At the lunar new year, I make a list of my five to seven creative goals for the year. I’ve been doing this for twelve years, and the practice of committing focus and attention to my creative energy has produced a wealth of creative abundance. When we begin taking the power of our own energy seriously, meaning that we recognize the ability we have to energize and co-create our lives, the magic begins. Setting intentions for our creativity is not the same as rigidly controlling the events or situations we encounter, rather it is opening to the energy potential in every moment of each day. One gem has emerged from my ritual of deliberating cultivating my creative essence: to have joy means to energize the joy in our lives. Where is your joy? What do you love about your life and this very moment? Focus on joy, seek joy, raise the energy vibration of joy in every day and you will find yourself living a joy-filled life.
When I experience a deep loss, such as I did this summer with the death of our family German Shepherd, Kiva, I open my being to spirit. In pain, there is a natural tendency to close ourselves in protection. But it is in these times that we most need the lightness of spirit to lift us and hold us. I step outside and feel the breeze on my skin. I rest my eyes on the gnarled tree bark that has calmly weathered many a storm. I watch the clouds pass overhead, changing the light around me. Breathing in the beauty of the moment, I invite spirit to do the work while I rest. Energy moves and the heaviness lifts. I follow the next movement from spirit towards new life. Here the life comes in the form of another shepherd puppy; another dance with spirit named Moka.
I am an energy reader: I know how to sense the deeper layers of connection between you and me and the ancestors or the spirits of the land. It was something I think we all could do when we were living in the wild, on the earth, bare feet treading on soil. When our breath was shared daily with the cedars and we birthed babies onto beds of moss, we certainly knew, even though we likely never pondered, that we were part of a wholeness–a whole continuum of breath, and being, vibrating with this life energy and then the quiet repose of death, an exhale that was meant to occur lying on the soft earth.
This is why, I began to circle round–from the fires ignited in buildings rising so far from the earth that people had to fall to find their way down. I saw the reaction in the pain of remembering and the reflection of the separation that took us too far from what we were meant to know in the bodies of women who came to see me. I started there, in my own body, in the body of writing, in my young sons, in the women who came–all of us finding our way back to the center, to the pulse that invites a gathering together of cells, of people, of prayers, of the fire of spirit that ignites our passions and the body which is meant to walk upon the earth.
And this is why, as I found myself in the August sun, near the lavender buzzing with bees, and the grape vines heavy with leaves, I placed my hands onto my 14 year old dying German shepherd. Though the grief lifted me away, I remembered the earth and placed both hands around the thick red fur of her neck. Her last breath came and went, her body heavy on my lap. And then the energy moved like water, from her body beneath my hands into the air around us. Her spirit moved across the quiet grass, brushing over my skin, shining on in the gold light.
9/11 ripped a hole in the fabric of our world, but perhaps one that we can use to see where we lost touch and to remember the way our energy moves like shared breath, along rivers, over fields, like spirits touching down to earth.
It has been an expansive summer, where the days stretched out wide before us. In that expanse, my sons did not always know what to do with themselves. Though we all eagerly anticipated the lazy days of summer, when it arrived the transition from the scheduled days of school, music lessons, and soccer was a little bumpy. It was tempting to fill the summer days with activities to keep the energy highly organized, but what we needed was a break from routine. The only way to fully make a transition is to move through the discomfort zone. I know this from working in the body, but here it was in the body of my family. The more I met the complaints and struggle with the calm of the cedar tree outside my window, the more these waves dissipated. Until, about three weeks into summer, an organic rhythm began to arise. The boys found their pocket knives, and began to carve wood. They made music, took pictures, made their own movie. We incorporated the hilarious lines of Portlandia into our daily adventures and embarked on a few road trips. But mostly we settled in to the wide open days of summer and the expanse of unplanned time.
Today, as I walked my son home from preschool, a man caught my eye. He was likely in his eighties, stooped over and shaped by the effects of time on the body. Yet his energy was full and robust. His eyes glowed, a gentle smile spread across his lips. I couldn’t help but notice his radiance, emanating from the energy of his center. “We are so blessed,” he said to me as my son raced by on his bike. Yes, we are. May we always have eyes that can see this.
When a woman comes to me for help in balancing her creative center, I see the radiance of her potential that goes beyond the visual field. Each person is a unique imprint of beauty. With our increasing access to computers and visual media, we must remember that “seeing” is more than what we can sense with our eyes. Remembering this deeper sight will ensure that stereotypical modes of beauty will take less hold instead of more, and we’ll be able to strengthen our core beauty no matter our age or means.
With my sons, I invite them to close their eyes and feel or sense the energy within. I want them to have just as strong a connection with this internal place as they do with the external realm. I want them to know their own beauty and potential so fully that the outer world becomes a place to give expression to this beauty rather than an attempt at validation. We are sacred. We are beautiful. Each one of us. And the more we know and love this beauty, the more it grows into something we can share with the world.
Wild Feminine blessing: May you know and love your beauty.