Dear Daughter,
Someone once said that whatever you leave out of your heart is the exact thing that gets in the way. When you were first born, I was fearful and sad. After studying for quite some time, I had just begun a journey of self discovery and healing. I didn’t know how to include you into my life. By accepting you, I felt as if I was rejecting myself.
Through therapy and mindfulness, I learned how to stay and let fear, anger, guilt, sadness, and doubt have their say. When I finally stopped trying to get the last word in our arguments, I finally heard what they all were trying to tell me.
“Please let us in. We are like lepers, outcasts to most people. We would like to be embraced and accepted by you. We would rather be in your heart than your muscles, joints or gut where we need to manifest as pain or gastritis in order to be heard.”
One day you will ask me why you don’t have a sibling. How do I begin to explain that it took me a few years to accept you into my heart, and more than 35 years to truly love myself? I am just beginning to see the healthy green sprouts of love I am planting, and trusting that in time there will be a large garden of wellness for us both.
When you are ready for this letter, you will know that your own third eye is clear to support your intuition, your deepest aspirations for yourself. You will call, and the ocean will answer. She will kiss your feet with her salty breath, and fill you with wisdom from her deep waters. You will see that even your unpleasant emotions can be revered guides if you let them speak to you softly. You will know which path to take.
You will know how to love yourself. The light from within you and the sound of your voice will travel far and wide to embrace all you meet with love.
May you be happy.
May you be well.
May you be safe.
May you be peaceful and at ease.
May you know the love that is inside you.
May you find that love when you are suffering.
If you cannot see that love, know that I am the voice of the tides, the twinkle in each star, the dancing tree who will lead you home again.
With all my love and best intentions for you,
Meme
Percolating again
1 day ago
7 comments:
This is so beautiful, dear Mermaid. I, too, didn't think I could or should have children until I was in my 30s. Only then did I feel that I would be able to take that chance. I also still struggle with loving myself because of things I was told when I was young, and not so young.
What you have done here is such a precious gift to your little N. She will be able to move forward in life so much better for having a such an insightful and caring mother.
What a beautiful letter. It will mean so much to your daughter when she is older. My 3 older children were born in my early 20's. One after the other and not planned and then my youngest I was 33 and a divorce was on the way. The marriage did not work but I would not have my wonderful children without that union.
Such a lovely letter. I choose not to have a child because art won over all else. Sometimes I am happy with that that fact and sometimes I am not :-).
This is so beautiful, thank you. Parenthood has been this kind of journey for me too so far. I had children late, after being on a spiritual journey for many years, and I can relate exactly to the feelings you describe here...and the coming to a resolution and passing on of that love...
Beautiful, simply beautiful. You bring a smile to my lips as I read this, knowing that you are an amazing woman who has so much love to give. What a stunning testimony to the love you have for your daughter. A treasure...
Will you print this out or pen it on lovely paper to keep for her...to give when the moment is right? I hope so...If only every daughter had such a gift from her mother. Sigh...
What a loving letter. Something about it reminded me of the song 'Little Green' by Joni Mitchell... and the line "Sometimes there'll be sorrow". Do you know the song? May your healing journey continue through this special relationship.
What a beautiful blessing.
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