Letter To An Unborn Mother
Dear incredible you. On the precipice of your own becoming. A version you have yet to see, yet to know, yet to be. This is Me talking to You.
I want to remind you that you are already stronger than you think you are. You are woman. Fire. Earth. Blood. Bone. You are the rumbling Herself that brings Life forward into Being. Despite your own shallow attempts to undercut your own sensual perfection and to distract yourself in all ways possible from destiny’s desire on you, you are,
Slowly and also so swiftly,
Do not fear your own power. Do not fear your own Love. Do not fear your own compassion. Do not fear your own vulnerable swollen heart that never goes back to the size it was before.
You know the scientists say your heart muscle and your uterus muscle are made from the same kind of tissues. One returns to its original size. One never does.
You will come to see that a part of you now lives forever outside your own skin. You will come to see more than ever that you are not in control. Don't hold sold tightly to the things you wanted. Let it go. This is better. This is best. Don't hold so tightly to your beliefs. Just hold tightly to your Faith. Let go of the roughness and the harshness. But hold your might and your ferocity close to your heart and in the back of your tongue. You will likely need it.
Dearest unborn mother, there is no ready. There is no right time. There is no perfect. What is broken is whole already. You know this to be true. What it is longing is longing for you. What is ready is simply the ripeness of seen and unseen forces guiding you, holding you, swaying you forward.
When you are older than you are today you will see it is all as it should be. When you have more lines on your face that hold the worry and the fear of a person you love that is you, but not you, you will understand your own mother. And her mother. And her mother.
As your hair turns grey and your eyes deepen and soften, the stars of the Mother’s Constellation will continually reveal themselves to you. There is only so much you could possibly understand now. Lest I blow your mind into a thousand starry bits that you could never follow. For now, know this:
You already have what you need. There is no right thing or right way. And your way is unfolding before your eyes, each day, each breath, each kiss, each daily ritual of living. Your way is Good. Holy and True.
Go ahead. Banish the doubt now because it won’t help you anyway. While you’re at it, banish all the assumptions you have. They won’t be of much use any longer. Oh, and another thing dear mother in her own caul, don't let anyone tell you who to pray to. Don't let anyone tell you who to bow to. Bow to your self. To your unborn self. Bow forever to the seed. Pray always to the dark-red, golden place inside. There is nothing outside you that is better, fuller or more powerful. It is already there. It is not the kind of listening you might be used to using. It is not the kind of feelings you might be used to feelings.
To the mother on the precipice, the brink, go ahead now, descend.
Fill and let go.
You have done enough excavating, enough healing, enough work for now. Good work my darling lady. You have done the best you could. And that, you will come to find, is purely good enough.
Know that there is immense freedom in being bound to your beloveds. Tether yourself now to a world that is always unraveling.
There is no other way now. Bind your hands and your heart and your breast to Love and to the earthly human place that is merely a moment of your Time.
You and I will meet again some day. A long time from now. You will be glad I wrote this to you. You will thank me and come to your knees. I’m you a thousand lifetimes away. Still the seed. Still the raging red golden part of you. Deeply alive. Deeply connected. Deeply reverent to the ever holiness Herself. And in that meeting you will see I am simply your own children speaking to you from inside yourself.
Waiting for you to be born too.