Posts Tagged ‘healing’

I’ve had an explosion since yesterday, in my mind. A vein of gold. I hardly know what to say now, I’m so full of ideas.

Motherlessness, let’s see…I had a mother of course, as we all did. Mine was fine. Good enough, as they used to say in certain psychological circles. According to object relations theory, “good enough mothering” insures that whatever wound we carry in our soul doesn’t fracture our mind. Inadequate mothering, however, and we could end up as a dreaded Borderline Personality Disorder. Of course no one knows just how good good enough will be until we either do or don’t end up on Axis II.

But I digress…(Honestly, what did we do before Wikipedia?)

Still, motherlessness is a wound to the soul. But what is it, for those of us who actually have (or had) a mother?

I leave you with the words of Karen Miller, from yesterday’s comments section:

(but only because I have to go to work)

“There it is. There is your empty. There is your full. It is your motherless child and your childless mother. It is not the end, as you know. We weep.”

…more on this, I promise.

Meanwhile, talk to me. What are your stories of motherlessness? Can you relate?

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On Friday, at Europa Cafe with the Jens, we shared the stories of our hearts with candor, vulnerability and love. The piece I shared was about the soul crisis I’ve been having around my work as a psychotherapist. I hoped that if I could lay it gently onto the table among us, submit my heart to the care of these special sisters, some gift, insight, or lifting of a burden might occur. I started stringing the beads of certain thematic experiences I’ve had concerning my own compassion, confusion, and the double-bind of powerlessness.

I became distracted by an almost irresistible desire to lie down and weep. The tears wouldn’t stop, so I interrupted my own story, wondering why I felt compelled to be my most vulnerable in public – the middle of Manhattan, no less.

Jen said,”You’re a motherless child.”

While I didn’t disagree, I was too determined to end my humiliating personal exposure to get a full explanation of how this concept applies, exactly, to my dilemma. She declared it with the grounded knowing of a physician making diagnosis. Or the Oracle, to Neo, when she said, “sorry kid, you’ve got a good soul, but you look like you’re waiting for something.”

Certain declarations from certain people you should take straight to the bank.

This one I carried in my pocket until this morning. The in-flight movie was August Rush. Embedded in this sentimental fairy tale are some great musical moments, including and especially, Raise it Up.

feelin like a motherless child hankered into my soul, it’s bringing me down, cant find my smile on a face of a
motherless child
I’m gonna break down these walls gonna give it my all ya know…
sometimes it takes a different kind of love to raise a child
so don’t give up
sometimes it takes a different kind of dream to make a smile

so raise it up
raise it up
sometimes it takes another helping hand to show you the way
(so don’t give up, when presures come down)
sometimes it seems impossible thats why we pray

I cried again, damn it.

I’m a motherless child. From a certain perspective this is literally true. On June 24th it will have been 16 years since my mother died. I’m certainly motherless, if not a child anymore.

And seriously, is anyone, no matter how old, not a child down deep inside?

But I’ve gone on too long. More on this tomorrow. There’s so much more to say.

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