The Mothers of Creation
As I have been sitting with women in the last weeks, honored and deeply nourished by holding space for the Life moving in their wombs, I continue to meet layers of awe at the absolute intelligence of Creation.
This is, of course, deepened and magnified by my own human experience of pregnancy—one which is simultaneously bringing me deeper into the soil of the Earth and wider into the vast webs of clear seeing—into a world of radiant, gorgeous, stained-glass integration beyond words.
The women who I am sitting with now are those who are giving their lives to Creation. Those who are in absolute devotion to allowing their bodies to be vessels of the Great Life, of the Christlight, of Truth, of Divine Love. They are pulled, beyond any comprehension, to serve this Life, and to let their wombs create children and stories and art exhibits and songs and classes and creations which radiate love and liberation.
Many of them, like almost every one of us, has pain and trauma and suffering, old relationships, abortions, miscarriages, abuse still holding parts of their creativity hostage. This is quite frankly, normal, at this point in the human experience, and still needs our loving care and attention in order to release it back to the void, and become fully present with our power as Creatrixes, here and now.
And yes, this desire for liberation calls them to this work. But I am in awe of something else.
What I am watching in their fields is that it is the Creations themselves that are pulsating this commitment, this devotion, this love into their Mothers.
I am watching stars in the cosmos, potential tiny human children, whispering strength and direction and intuition into their Mother’s ears, guiding them this way and that, so that they may be consciously conceived.
I am watching entire artistic matrices interacting with creators, their future living essence directing the outcomes and pathways and intuitive guidance that their Mother, their Creatrix, is receiving, so that they may be born.
It is wild, and rich, and awe-inspiring, to remember that perhaps, it is our children, who make us into who we are. To know that it is our Creations – our songs, our art, our babies—who actually create US.
There was a moment in February, back after I experienced a miscarriage, and before I conceived the child I am carrying now, that I remembered this. That I remembered, felt, knew, saw, deep in my bones, that the child I had just miscarried was the incarnation of a spirit who had been working with me for over 8 years to support me in preparing my womb for Motherhood, and more recently, in bringing my partner and I together as parents. She and I had had a long, wild, ride together, clearing my womb. And her work, her devotion to me, was complete.
When I sit with women who have had miscarriages and abortions, they know this, too. They know their children. Their children have created them, changed their lives, made them who they are today—the expression of their highest destiny.
Sometimes, these creations are albums of music. Sometimes they are businesses, sometimes novels. These are our children, too—creating us as we create them. Whispering, guiding, directing our moves to support their healthy arrival in form on Earth. Always inviting us into deeper and more conscious relationship to ourselves, and to the whole of Life.
As I become more and more Mother, every day, this baby boy in my womb, I am being forged with gold. Because of who he is, and who he needs me to be, I am becoming dragon, fairy, elven. I am becoming strong, and clear, and softer every day, all at the same time. To feel your own child forging you is the deepest grace I have ever known.
My great grandmother Eula Jane Ballard, was a country midwife on Chandler Mountain in North Alabama, at the turn of the century. Mothering birthing mothers before doctors and hospitals and insurance entered into the birthing realms, she kept a bag of supplies and herbs by the door, always ready for the next call, for the next Mother to be born. I feel her with me now, activating her memory in my DNA, and receiving the next layers of Light woven into what she will remember next time she is born. She, too, is forging me, in the great ancestral lineages of Life.
I stand in awe at the Mothers of Creation. Those of you devoted to gestating True Life on Earth. I am honored to know you, to sit with you, to walk beside you, to receive your love, to reflect it back. I feel Home, here with you.
I stand in devotion to these worlds—to the worlds and lineages of conception and creation and the womb—to the Mother arriving, fully spread wide across this Earth, birthing Light—for generations and generations to come. And I am here, being forged by the next generation, allowing myself to be born.
