The Mother

By Lian Brook-Tyler

I’m lying in bed listening to my family downstairs making me breakfast in bed, and admiring my very own Klimt, painted by my daughter (when she discovered last week that he is one of my favourite artists, she secretly began painting this).

I was filled with fear about becoming a mother, I was gripped by the story that I would be terrible, especially if I had a daughter.

But it turned out to be the very thing that came most naturally… it was also the thing that showed me I could trust my instinct and intuition.

Mothering is in my myth and mud... I am star born and soil grown to be so.

As I reclaim the parts of my soul that were lost through shock and shame, it becomes clear that the Mother is the archetype that one way or another, magical and mundane, is my North Star, I am forever devoted to Her.

She can show us all… the mothers, the mothered, and the unmothered… how to love and be loved.

All my love.