Tendrils,
Tentacles of energy radiate outward into the world, into the realms that others dwell in.
from somewhere in me they find you,
From somewhere in me to some place within her…
Or him.
And I wonder over and over are they to thinking of me, or not even thinking, because mostly it is within the unconscious realms that these tendrils find one another.
day and night.
For I have dreamed a thousand dreams,
And each cycle I return to someone, again and again.
Changing form, changing speech, changing, changing.
Over time these faces that continue to return, shift, feeling flows,
love, sorrow, grief, hatred.
Changing, changing.
But these dreams and these thoughts are just a tiny piece of what’s going on beyond the mental realm, and these people are so far in my past, they are mere lessons on a much greater path.
What I’m mostly curious and intrigued about, are the tentacles and the webs that wrap and weave between mothers, between care givers, between a birthing woman and her keeper.
For it is this service that I so love and adore.
Something ancient and mysterious, a path that is etched in my bones.
A path that speaks to my grandmothers, grandmother and the ways she lived and breathed, a pillar in the community, a path of womanhood, a craft passed on and on and on through wombs and hearts.
And so these tendrils spiral from me to you,
From mother, from birther, from crafter, keeper, guardian, sister, friend towards a woman who stands at the alter of birth.
Suddenly i am swept into the feeling state, adrift in the tide of sorrow, or heaviness, or happiness, but it’s really the more uncomfortable places that take light.
I really know it, I know it because I have felt it, I know because it is there and present and alive. Sometimes I feel it, what she is feeling, i wonder and ponder what is this, what am i carrying in this moment, what is on my shoulders, what is present in my heart, its unknown, its unspeakable but its there.
The awareness comes later as a message is received, you know the kind, a real life text message, not some other kind of telepathy… and I breathe deeply, ahh she is feeling, she is experiencing, she is drifting into another realm. And we are so entwined, that I feel it too.
Something mysterious, mystical, marvellous.
Tears flow for her, they were already surfacing. Already alive.
They are not happy tears, not sad either, they are the enormity of cosmic energy dancing between heart and womb, they are the enormity of body and soul colliding in a single contraction, they are the infuriating delight of waiting for the birth dance to begin. They are waves of bliss rolling infinitely, between every mother that has birthed and will birth, in this life and all other lives.
I feel nausea as I wind down roads, over hills and past paddocks, I’m moving towards a portal yet she is already within. Im experiencing a milder version of her birth dance, realising she is purging, praying, crying, swaying. Seeing it in my minds eye, revealing itself in the chemistry of my physical body.
I sing loud and bold as my heart cracks open with hers. Tears shed, tendrils fly.
Song weaves it web, pulls at my insides and clears my auric field.
My womb aches, with the first hours of my bleed. I rest in the comfort of my bed, feeling other worldly. Where am I? In the stillness of this home, in the stillness of my bed, as blood flows. I remember how connected I am.
My womb contracts and cramps in time with hers, I’m sure I’ll miss this birth, the intensity of it all is too much right now. Perhaps i should make my way, but she hasn’t called. So i sit in trust, and build this sacred nest around myself, singing, waiting, praying, knowing she will dance her dance alone, regardless of my presence.
I can feel myself heart pulsing, in another realm already. Should I even be driving, I’m outside my body, I’m out of my mind. Yet I’m so in my body, so in my wisdom, so in sync with this mother.
It’s been many months of meeting, connecting and reflecting, tendrils run deep between you and I.
It’s a path I am learning, to witness birth, to witness mothering, to witness transitions, transformations, transmuting one form into another.
This path, this winding, spiralling labyrinth that has no end.
It’s a holy thing being so divinely connected
But there is also danger to this path,
There are risks withh this intimate collaboration.
And I want to speak to that, because I believe we have all been fed the narrative that empathy is what we should strive for, and the more empathetic the better. But to know ones boundaries is vital to coexist in the vessel of birth. In all relationships, in work, in love, in friendship, we do become entwined, our edges fray and the space between two becomes faded.
Look inside, ask questions, stay curious.
Breathe.
So you may recognise what is yours and what is hers, its all alive.
Its vital to recognise how much you can carry, how much you can take on, where are your limits? Can you tune into and let go in the same breathe? Can you tune out when the time is right?
Recognising the moments to call your energy back in, to seal it, to contain it, to swaddle it into being.
To stand firm, and state the song, the song of self. The song of sovereignty.
To call your whole self into presence, to love and receive, to be grateful and to let go.
To gather the wisdom and release the story.
To remember the tides of ones own beating.
To be in the wisdom of your own womb.
There are times to tendril outward, letting spirals move and dance into the world of others, to feel them, to understand them and to recognise their existence, their power, their fears, their doubts, because this all allows you to be with them. Closer.
There are times to draw those cords in, wrap them in protection, wrap them in love, wrap them in oneness. To be complete with self, knowing you have done all you can for another, and that they require sovereignty too.
So let me be grateful to feel and be felt,
How intricately connected we are.
How sacred.
