Remembering to choose ourselves in the midst of Motherhood

The devotional act of choosing self, unravelling productivity narratives and remembering the essence of us...

Primroses from our garden, held by little hands, as an offering during a sacred ceremony this week.

Hello lovely one

How is your heart today? How are you tending to yourself this week?

As I begin to write this (I always begin my weekly posts on a Monday) my youngest is asleep in the buggy, my eldest is watching something with a squirrel and a hedgehog on Netflix… and we have just said goodbye to my parents who have been visiting for a week or so from where they live in France.

Saying goodbye - even after over twenty years of them living there - always feels a little tender.

We spent the morning all together, exploring one of our favourite National Trust venues, Ightham Mote, and journeying round their Easter Bunny trail. I mostly chased Vesper — while keeping half an eye on Sophia — as she merrily skipped off in the opposite direction to us, despite the Spring flowers being in abundance there was still an icy chill to the wind. It was chaotic, and involved sassy backchat from Sophia and whole body flailing-style tantrums from Vesper when I had to divert her away from dangerous obstacles she was intent on heading towards.

I have avoided trips like this recently because — well it is just so wild at times, but today it was quite glorious and heart-nourishing in amongst the mayhem because I felt replenished enough to enjoy it.

A rare moment of them both on the same path from our adventures

I took the morning ‘off’ on Sunday to go for a solo walk around another favourite National Trust venue - Knole Park - and to attend a beautiful gentle Spring Equinox Ceremony with my dear friend Ashlyn at her studio in Sevenoaks.

A whole morning of me.

It was on the back of a brutal night of sleeplessness with Vesper - two and a half hours of screaming down to teething. I felt wrung out from trying to regulate myself and stay with her even though I wanted nothing more than to crawl back into my bed and drift into dreamland.

It wasn’t just a ‘nice to do’ act towards myself… it was essential. Not just self care for the sake of it - but true self tending to the very heart of me.

I so often avoid the discomfort of feeling the guilt that comes when I do something for myself — especially when there is disappointment at home because Sophia wants to join me. I am also acutely aware that feeling any guilt for taking time out just for me is a problem in itself — and yet it is there and it is real, and so I am learning to witness it with gentle curiousity and awareness instead of judgement.

It takes a lot of effort to move through the rising mixture of feelings that surface when choosing me. It is more common for me to avoid it and stay in the pattern of slight resentment and martyrdrom to be honest — which of course only feeds the martyrdom and resentment in a toxic spiral. I might not like it there but it is at least familiar.

Sometimes making changes — when you are already depleted — feels overwhelming and exhausting in itself. Even though we want so desperately to walk a different path, we find ourselves boomeranging back to the one we know, over and over again. This to me is an opportune moment to pause and look around before trying to force ourselves onwards - only in the pause can we truly see the view and see the different paths that are offered to us.

Even though it involves energy to choose ME, I know just how potent the medicine is.

I think sometimes we have to use service to others as a gateway to be of service to ourselves, it feels a little more acceptable to choose myself in devotion to my family, rather than choosing myself purely for me. (yes… I am still unpicking those ‘selfish’ narratives)

To be honest I don’t think it matters because the end result will be a more whole, present human to all… and those ripples are endless.

When I fill my own well up I can really see the beauty in these moments.

In the midst of Mothering

Every Monday I have both girls on my own for the day. Now… if I’m truthful… I find the days solo parenting my two daughters the toughtest of the week… and it feels very crunchy saying that.

I spend many moments in my day wondering why I find things so challenging, when other Mothers do this and look after their multiple children alone, day in and day out. Sometimes there are pockets of ease and joy and I truly cherish them… but by the end of the day I have almost always cried at least twice, lost my centre multiple times and raised my voice, before then sinking into a spiral of shame and self loathing.

Being with my girls is both the greatest gift and also the bitterest tasting medicine. They mirror to me everything that I can hide away from when I am distracted by work and creativity.

I can’t hide from my rage.

I can’t hide from my grief.

I can’t band aid over my frustrations or disappointments at all the things I haven’t managed to do with my life.

I can’t not see all the things that I’m not content with. And even though I am overcome with gratitude for all that I do have. I also have a part of me that desires more.

The perfect version of myself cannot exist here. The one who has a plan and controls and has it all together. And that feels unsettling to my body. In fact I would go as far to say that it feelsy terrifying at times.

My girls push me to be with uncertainty, and it feels edgy to me.

And also…

It is much more challenging to sit on the floor and play with my girls than it is to pour myself into work and ‘productivity’.

It is much more challenging to hide from the full impact of just how unsafe it feels in my body to not be working or doing all the things that society deems to be worthy.

For decades I valued myself on my work ethic. I was constantly celebrated for how hard I worked - juggling multiple jobs and throwing my all into everything I did. Having spent Saturday with four generations of women in our family for my Grandmother’s 103rd birthday I also realised that I have come from a lineage of ‘hard working women’, which is incredibly empowering but also — that work ethic has been imprinted so deeply on my DNA that it can feel scary to take time just for me.

It is deeply rooted in the pit of my nervous system that in order to belong in my society I must work hard, must have financial security and must be deemed as valuable to community.

While I can see rationally that there is NOTHING more valuable than raising our future generations to stay anchored to the loving and whole beings that they already ARE… my nervous system has been brainwashed into believing that playing on the floor and rocking my baby to sleep is not as valuable as sitting at a desk and answering emails.

Bleurgh.

In both of my ‘maternity leaves’ I have been back to some elements of work after three months of giving birth to the girls — and it was my choice — because for the reasons above I simply couldn’t tolerate the discomfort in my entire being that comes from not working.

I love my work - I truly do - but if I am really, really honest with myself, I have done more than I needed to because it felt safer that way.

In pouring my whole self into my work - I have taken away some of the nourishment that my soul needs to thrive. The work I do with my clients is deep soul work - I truly know that it is a huge part of what I am meant to do - but there is still a missing — vital nutrient — that is depleting my being.

The nutrient of doing something just for me.

Not for work. Not for clients. Not for my family. Not even for my writing here.

Just for me.

Vitamin ME. (I can’t help but chuckle at myself for that one… #sorrynotsorry)

I miss HER.

I know she is there but the murk and mess of motherhood means I rarely see her. Then when I do.. I feel alive and ignited again… only to be pulled away from her. And it makes it even more painful to be apart.

I would describe this as a deep homesickness, like I’m tapping on a window begging to be let back in but the doors either won’t open, or don’t open enough for me to step inside.

Over the past few weeks I have held space in person, been to a birthday circle for my dear friend, taken the day out to celebrate my Grandmother’s birthday with family, been to a yoga class, sat and journaled, walked in the evenings thanks to the light, drank ceremonial Cacao…

I have been tending to my own wellspring and realising how much I have neglected it.

It is like that first sip of water you get when you haven’t drunk enough (or have eaten too much haloumi… only me?!?), once you begin to drink you realise how much more you need. It is a deep, deep thirst that desperately needs quenching to save you from withering.

Not the me from before I became a Mother - but the heart of ME now. My essence. A different shape and with a stronger flavour - but it is still ME.

I can feel glimmers of her returning… and that shows up for me in more patience, more gentleness, more softness in my body, more presence in my Mothering, and ultimately a greater conection to love.

Two years is the minimum time it takes to travel the journey of Matrescence - and that is for each baby. Now as I meet 15 months of Vesper I can feel that slight shift in inner seasons… the little slither of light that illuminates something different, another phase. I can see it… but I can’t quite touch it. Yet.

Bringing my daughters INTO ceremony with me… on my well loved Yoga Mat

Practices of remembrance

When I roll my favourite old yoga mat out — the same one that traveled to Costa Rica with me for my Yoga Teacher Training in 2016 — it opens a portal for me. It is like my own personal mobile altar that starts the journey of rememberance.

I forget to roll her out often - but when I do it is like coming home. Not for my yoga practice itself, but because when she is laid out it is like a signal that I am creating space for tending to my self.

I journal on her, pull cards on her, meditate, move, rest, dance, stomp, cry… she has held me through so much.

As I sat cradled in her frayed arms recently, I started to explore a little practice… a list of sorts.

A list of all the ways I can come back to myself… all the ways I KNOW help me remember, all the ways that bring me back to the heart… to love…

My list of remembrance

Walking in nature

Getting somewhere high (I am a Mountains environment in Human Design)

Oracle Cards

Drinking ceremonial cacao

Yoga Asana

Meditation

Writing in my journal

Music that stirs my soul

Spending time with treasured people

Singing sacred songs

Walking barefoot in the garden

Rolling out my yoga mat

Being by the ocean

Going to the woods and sitting at the roots of an ancient tree

Flowers - the Primrose is holding me right now

Lighting a candle

Anointing myself with essential oils

Doing my makeup

Adorning myself with beautiful jewellery

Sunrise and sunset

Holding space for others

Women’s Circles

Banging my drum

Cooking and baking

Writing poetry

The more I wrote, the more I remembered… and the more I remembered the more it activated something deep inside that helped me see fragments of light, and started to help me find my way home.

Having it listed out might seem a bit structural — but it means whenever I feel like I am losing my way, I have a very clear map home. Even just one minute of any one of these practices is better than nothing at all.

So my invitation for you today, if you feel called, is to write your own list of rememberance… even if you think you don’t know (because I know that feeling too), just start with writing one thing and see where it takes you.

This album is one of my favourites to guide me back to myself…

Moments of sweetness between sisters, from our Monday together

Please do share with me in the comments if you explore this practice, I would love to know what you are remembering about yourself?

Until next time…

With so much love,

Lauren

xxx

PS… if you are in the UK and would like to gather with other Substack writers in a sacred space,

Lyndsay Kaldor

and I are hosting our first Holding Stories event on 20th April in London. You can read more and book your tickets here.

Recent offerings you might have missed…

• The rebirth of my podcast Unravelling with a beautiful conversation between myself and

  Lyndsay Kaldor
  on Seasons of Motherhood & Creativity and more..

• Writing As My Medicine - how I felt returning to writing after a creative pause at the start of the year.

• The Held Heart Yoga Nidra - if you are a paid member, or wish to upgrade, you can receive this nidra for restoration and gentleness.

  

Poetry to hold those who need it this week

Hello to anyone who is new here… I am Lauren, a Mother of two daughters, a Writer, Coach, Soulful Business Mentor, Website & Branding Creator, Human Design Guide, Sacred Space Holder and multi dimensional human being. You can find out more about my work here. Please do subscribe to join the journey, and if you enjoy this, and you do have the means, I would be so grateful if you chose to support my creations for £5 a month…