I am a mama. I am a gardener. And I see the connections and correlations.
When the notion of a baby came into my consciousness, I prepared myself emotionally and physically for that possibility. Just how I prepare the soil before I plant the seeds that are to become our food. Pregnant I nurtured my body, fed it amazing healthy food to best cherish and support the baby growing inside. Not unlike I feed and nurture our gardens. When my precious babes were born I kept them close, monitored the energy that surrounded us and nursed them endlessly. And so it is with how I watch over my little starts in their trays as they are preparing to be planted out in the garden. As my babies grew older, it was with immense gentleness that I let them slowly out into the world, always aware of their environment being a tender one that supported their spirits in an appropriate way. My young seedlings get that same assiduous attention to their care, especially upon early planting. As the plants grow, they receive hoeing and feeding with a watchful eye, but the joy is then in just witnessing their process, perhaps pulling the aggressive weed, giving an extra boost of nutrients should a storm leave them weakened. As did I deeply delight in observing my children mature, always aware of the storm that might come their way, leaving them particularly vulnerable in its wake and in need of that deeper dose of loving care from me. And then the harvest, also carried out with sensitivity and smiles.
So it is that I now reap the harvest of my mothering, now that my children are all young adults. I receive back a million-fold the warmth and love I infused into their upbringing. I marvel at their deep compassionate spirits and their soulful thoughts and deeds.
I will always be a gardener. I will always be the mama to my three amazing children. I have, with the utmost care, given them roots. Now, they are spreading their wings.