How Are You Mothering Yourself?

A Mother's Day gift, for the 'motherless' amongst us

"Well just to start, I know we're not motherless" – is often the very first thing I'll say on our 'Motherless Daughters' group journey. It's a helpful title that can grab the attention of any aching heart feeling the tangible loss of a mother whether through death, deliberate distance or mental health struggles. Yet, of course, even in all of these situations we are never truly 'motherless'.

Winter is always a time when I miss my Mum fiercely. The weeks that hang between Christmas and her birthday in January feel both long, and longing. It's a time of year for slow family weekends, wet walks and boardgames by the fire. It's a time for reflection and dreaming, for conversation over cups of tea and morning cuddles in our dressing gowns.

Through the darker months this year, I often found myself wondering what Mum would make of this life I'm building in the slow stillness of Somerset. My thoughts linger on all that she will miss in the year ahead – my wedding and the chance to meet the love of my life, my work taking a new direction with the creation of my first training offering and the world continuing to shift and change beyond recognition. Oh and Wicked coming out in the cinema, how could she missed Wicked coming out in the cinema?!

It's been easy in the years gone by to feel her absence like a permanent hold on my heart. The grief casting a sense of numbness, loss and loneliness into nearly everything that I do. Nine years on, the grief I feel for my Mum can still be acute and agonising on some days. But as I have been slowing down and prioritising rest, I can sense a new, subtle layer arising... a longing to feel mothered.

Our mother's womb was the first, and potentially only place, we have felt true safety. What a contrast to the outside world and its fast, demanding pace. In the years since my Mum died, I searched for the spaces that felt nurturing and gentle enough for me to grieve. And yet, it was only when I came to rest in the countryside, away from the previous busyness of London, that I began to wonder why I didn't first try to create a safe space within myself, within my own home.

So, the simple question I am returning to again and again, particularly on Mother's Day in England – is how can I more deeply and simply mother myself? How can I show up to my own soul with the same devotion a mother would give a newborn in the middle of the night?

For me, self-mothering looks like:

• Returning to my meditation practice

• Moving my body in gentle and interesting ways

• Walking the woods come rain or shine

• Long baths with epsom salts

• Heartfelt conversations with my partner

• Cacao in the mornings instead of coffee

• Daily hip stretches and self-massage

• Gentle TRE (trauma-releasing exercises)

• Time away from my phone

• Connecting with friends and telling them that I love them

• And of course, cuddles with Willow (constantly!)

Another practice that I'm just beginning to explore is to wonder: what qualities from my darling Mumma can I call on today? How can I honour her and remember her beauty? What parts of her can I embody in a legacy of love? What can I let go of on her behalf?

In being with this question a long sunny walk last Sunday morning, the message that came to me was very clear. I honour my Mum's deep sensitivity and willingness to feel, I revere her ability to make people feel welcome, I bow to her capacity to Love. I let go of her feeling that she wasn't enough, I release her suffering and separation and I surrender to her (and my) need for rest.

Whether your mother is still with you or not, Whether your relationship with her is strong or fragmented, I ask you these questions…

• What qualities from your mother are you grateful for?

• What pain or suffering from your mother can you forgive, release and let go of?

• How can you bring the mother energy into your life and your home?

• How can you mother yourself emotionally, practically and spiritually?

If you'd like to share your responses to any of these prompts, I would be so honoured to bear witness to them.

Wishing you a very gentle Mothering Sunday, and the gift of nurturing your own heart with the tenderness it deserves.