The Land Whispers To Me
The power of the wise woman
Courses through me.
Calling me.
I find myself wanting to be alone.
The land whispering to me
To gift myself time
To let myself shed
To look back over
My life
Stitched like a patchwork quilt
The faded brilliance
Of what was loved
And what was.
Tracing the path that led me here.
The pulsing of my body
Has slowed down
I am
The vastness of the lake
Frozen over in winter.
I am
The echo in the cave
And the spider in the web.
I think of the old women
Who welcomed me here
One gave me her house
And watches me still.
The other gave me her Goddess
From beyond the veil
I wait to see what the third
Will bring.
- Jenny Wren
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
