One of my teachers often talks about how important it is to know your roots. She talks about putting your family on your altar because that's where it all begins. And, this makes sense. Whether your altar is your heart or your shrine, you need to know what you are made of.
We need to know what we are made of, so that we can grow. And, just like good gardening (said the girl who kills plants... so sorry!), this takes work and nourishment. Tending your family garden is a daily task. The good news is: it makes you grow.
My Mother Is My Roots
I was meditating on my relationship with my mother recently when a truth got stuck in my throat. I don't want "that" for me. "That", of course, is oddly universal, but in my case, specifically living insecure and as a survivor. And, consequently, never quite stopping so that you never quite own where you've arrived. As this "that" bubbled in my throat, something felt wrong.
In addition to feeling sad, somehow I felt bad. Disloyal. Hurtful, even. Now the irony of all this entirely mental drama-logue is that my mother is wholly supportive of me and of my life. My mother has never articulated that I should live differently. My mother has never asked me to have her values. The only thing my mother has really asked of me is for me to be happy. And, yet, I seldom hear it. Maybe, because I'm made from her. My mother is my roots.
We All Nourish Each Other
"Courage is to tell the story of who you are with your whole heart..." - Brene Brown
It is much easier to scapegoat another's values than to look at our own and question why we feel stuck. It is much harder to remember that we all nourish each other -- or that we can. When I meditate on my mother, it is hard to not recognize that I am not stuck (HINT: None of us have to be stuck). Not like she might have felt that in the era she grew up in, and certainly not by her.
Understanding where she came from helps me understand where I came from. And, she does not consciously put her views on me. If anything, *I* do. This is why yoga is so valuable. Our practice is like Windex for the soul -- everyone cannot help but sparkle. Because of my mother and really my many mothers, I am one lucky and (admittedly) scared as hell girl.
Ph.D. Brene Brown says that we live in a "vulnerable world". While this vulnerability frightens me daily, I recognize that we all need to be willing to step into the fray, to feel love, and to come alive. This is how I am not like my mother. And, this is how I know that she supports me. My mother wants me to be content.
Not to be her, but, to be me. Happy.
- For Robin