Dear Sister,

This week has been wedged between massive change, it is in the grey area that I find myself, going from one point to another and then back again.

On Sunday here in Australia it is Mother’s Day as I stand on the edge of this man-made celebration it stars the deepest wound for me that actually prevents me from celebrating wholly (each and every year).

This symbolic day of the Mother brings up the loss of my own mother and all the wounds of the mother that I am. It is certainly not a time of celebration but of honouring what has passed, who I am and where I am going.

Mother’s Day for me is a time to honour the Mother’s those that no longer walk amongst us.

The mother’s who are walking amongst us that we are estranged from for so many reasons.

Those of us who have fathers who don’t honour daughters for the mothers they are.

Husbands who overlook our importance and the irreplaceable sacredness of what we bring.

The grief of the times we feel we failed at our own mothering, of ourselves and of our children.

The times we forget to honour our greatness, our strength, our beauty and our intrinsic bringing of life, not just physically but spiritually and emotionally.

That we came from the greatest mother of all, life and she too needs honouring on this day.

That we actually can be the mother we long for within ourselves, we can honour ourselves for the amazing women we are.

So I am here to fill in the places that are unfillable, to bring love to the deepest longing and honour to the parts that seem just too hard to acknowledge today.

For every woman, you connect with today know that she is walking a path that is not dissimilar to yours.

She bares the pain, she has the longing.

She knows what it is to be in the dark, fearful of no way out.

In reverence and grace honour her as though you are honouring yourself.

See the light in her that exists within you.

You the womxn born of Mothers.

The giver of everything so sacred.

I am longing for you to come back to yourself.

To see the beauty of which you are.

The cracks of imperfections, the ravens of pain, contortions of fear: I see you and I love you for all that you are and all that you bring.

For your children, your beloveds, your mother of mothers and the great vast mother of all, you are extraordinary, womxn.

May you learn the song of your ancestors and may you sing it every day through every cell in your existence. You belong and the days are better because you are in them.

My Love
Briony x

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