Shift #19

My word for 2021 is shift. Like everyone I know, I’ve learned a lot, since this time last year. One of the biggest things I’ve learned is that change and uncertainty just are. Since I’m not in control of much more than which yoga pants, Zoom-appropriate top, and slippers I’ll wear each day, I needed to figure out how I could deal with all the change and uncertainty. That’s where shifting comes in.

For me, shifts involve acceptance and adjustment. I know I don’t have much control, but I have unlimited choices. I can shift

Some of my recent shifts have been pretty significant. Some have been tiny. Some haven’t happened, yet. And I’m sure I’ll make a lot of shifts I can’t even imagine.

I captured this image of Mom on April 10, 2017, my 59th birthday.
Mom was on her way to the Kitty Askins Hospice House, where she lived for 161 days. In classic Edna style, she grinned and whispered to me, “Hasta la vista, baby.” I’d never heard her speak Spanish before, nor quote Arnold.
Who knew?
Who knows? Yep, who knows?

In case you haven’t heard, today is Mother’s Day in the US. It’s a day that’s joyFULL for some, painFULL for some, and ignored by some.

In honor of the shifts experienced or aided by those who are or will be mothers, and all who have mothered, here’s a tender blessing by Jan Richardson.

For all the mothers—mothers by blood, mothers by heart—a blessing to you on this Mother’s Day:

Blessing the Mothers

Who are our
first sanctuary.

Who fashion
a space of blessing
with their own being:

with the belly
the bone and
the blood

if not with these,
then with the
durable heart
that offers itself
to break
and grow wide,
to gather itself
around another
as refuge,
as home.

Who lean into
the wonder and terror
of loving what
they can hold
but cannot contain.

Who remain
in some part of themselves
always awake,
a corner of consciousness
keeping perpetual vigil.

Who know
that the story
is what endures
is what binds us
is what runs deeper
even than blood

and so they spin them
in celebration
of what abides
and benediction
on what remains:

a simple gladness
that latches onto us
and graces us
on our way.

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