Maiden To Mother

Autumn is always a poignant time for me as there are two anniversaries of me becoming a mother - my children's birthdays.

This is a rare photo of me pregnant with my son, not yet crossed the threshold into motherhood, held between in that space of expanding and contracting.

My heart opening, my body softening, my soul longing for safety and security.

As I turn my thoughts today to my exciting reformulation of my birth preparation course, I wonder, what advice would I give to my budding mother self?

I would want her to know that she will birth beautifully.

That it is okay to just spend all day in bed with your baby.

That she doesn't have to know it all straight away.

That her life would get bigger, not smaller.

I would tell her to claim her time for herself, that staying at home to raise your children is seen by some as a luxury but it means you need a break even more.

Ask for a break.

I would want her to know that children are not there to be a reflection of your values walking in the world, they are their own people with their own needs, tastes and interests. Release them.

That birth would shatter me in the best way possible.

What advice would you give to your maiden self?

The Power Of Me

With each of my children

A portal opened

As the power gripped my body

And my hands clenched and grasped

As I took shaking breaths

And entered the cosmic darkness.

Seeing past, present, future

The timelessness of the woman's gateway.

Both times

My brow kissed

With the blessing of the Mother.

I soared

And I dove

Into the shadow of the deep

Into the cavernous earth

And the whispers of my ancestors.

Each time

My expanded consciousness

Sending ripples of breaking change

Across the perceived notions

Of who I was

Who I was able to be.

The path it changed

The path it was exploding

Into possibility.

Led by the heart, to the very

Depths

Of me.

- Jenny Wren

Alban Elfed

Blessed Alban Elfed...

As we say goodbye to the long days, as day and night become of equal length.

As the last of the seeds and the berries are gathered.

As we look back on the people and places who have made our heart sing, the books and stories that have inspired us, the hope that has sustained us.

We hold them within us like dried flowers in a scrapbook.

Within, you are a candle always burning, even as you enter the darkest days.

You are the light.

Love Jenny xxx