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"Although I was a writer before
I had children, my inspiration comes from the experience
of motherhood. Like so many things that children bring
to our lives, my work is juicier, truer, and messier now
that I write whatever is living in my own heart. My
son's sadness when his best friend moves away is given a
place on paper. The silly inspirations of dinner talk
are honored when I type it out during naptime. Now I am
more than a mommy who writes, I am a scribe for all the
mothers."
- Anna
Stewart
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| "When one is freshly informed,
has a serendipitous experience, one's mood is changed,
one's heart is changed. That is why taking time to see,
hear, be present to images and language that arise form
new experiences have the power to change one from one
way to another."
- Clarissa
Pinkola Estés
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We rub our bulging bellies with our hands as our babies dance inside our wombs. Finally, we get to hold our newborn in our arms. The waiting is over, our hands, which have already been and done so many other things, find gratitude in the usefulness and pleasure of being mother hands. We change diapers, wipe spaghetti smeared faces, cut-up apples, sort little white socks, turn pages, zip coats, brush silky hair, and rock our tired children.
All women who become mothers, whether they are newly pregnant or great-grandmothers, mothers through adoption, in-vitro fertilization, or with another mommy, are all joined in the ancient tribe of motherhood. We are like mother bears or mother whales or mother sparrows. Filled with a fierce protectiveness for our young, we want our children to have the best, to be the best and to know the best. We sacrifice much along the path, not all of it willingly and some at great cost to us. Mothers in America are viewed with great love, lifted by our bellies and breasts to some unseen pedestal where we are supposed to be uncomplainingly fulfilled as mothers. Biology made us caregivers right? Well it is true we have an amazing ability- we can give birth. But giving birth is not the same as becoming mothers- that we have to learn.
In between all those things I do with my hands for my children, I try to remember to breathe. I seek to be more than a household manager, more than a housekeeper, and more than mommy. I want to be a REAL MOTHER and I believe that there are other women out there like me. I invite all of you to join me in creating a new vision of motherhood that provides enough space for the shadows and the wounds along with the daily work and weekly joys.
Through this website, along with my essays, articles and reviews, my workshops and classes and my forthcoming books, I hope to coax you out of familiarity, inspire your own passions and rouse you into delving into your own strengths and shadows. Though mindful mothering, we can look at the back of our hands and see our lineages, our power and our need for hand cream.
Please send questions, subscribe to my monthly newsletter and enjoy my hand work!
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