Growing seeds

On dreams, possibilities, growing pains and new beginnings.

Tell me about you

Growing up

Sowing seeds

Blossoming from just a single thought

Is a flower

Blooming with possibility

Life is like that sometimes

Changes come as swiftly as

The breeze of wind takes hold of my hair

On a windy summers day

I welcome it all

I embrace each thought

Hug every idea

I am blessed to have visit

At the most random hours of the day

Without them

Without the change

The impermanence

The magic sprinkles of

Divinely crafted creation

Where would we be

As children

As mothers

As humanity?

The other day I kissed my son goodbye as he stomped off with his little homeschool friends to have morning tea, to which he said “I don’t actually want actual tea”. Yes, actual is one of his favourite words at the moment.

My heart ached. Truthfully I can’t say whether it was because it was filled with pride and joy or grief and a longing only a mother can relate to.

His big sister was also there and while they sat and chatted, then went off to check on the chickens and play in the sand pit - not together mind you - seperate with new and old friends, I couldn’t bring myself to leave.

So I stayed, opened my laptop and pretended to catch up on some work. I say pretend because I knew the minute I sat down all I really wanted to do was burst into tears. Motherhood is a tender endeavour no one can prepare you for.

Since it was his first day, I knew that at some point he would need me and I ensured to let everyone know that I was always there and available, while working (crying) just a mere few meters away from them.

In between opening my laptop, sipping my morning coffee, then grabbing my notebook and realising I was hungry - all of course to procrastinate and take my mind of the fact that I am about to wail while watching the kids run past - I thought about the past 4 years and asked myself how the hell we got here so fast?

While I was reflecting on my son growing up, my daughter nearly in the double digits and my mother heart confused and aching, I realised that it wasn’t just them who had grown up in the past decade.

I had grown up too.

Quite frankly I began my motherhood journey knowing nothing. I was 21 when I met my partner, 22 when I found out I was pregnant and I birthed our darling girl a mere few months before I turned 23.

I wasn’t one of those people who prepared themselves for any of that. As with everything else in my life up until then I just trusted that I was made for what’s ahead. In hindsight I would’ve done a lot different, especially in terms of preparing for birth and postpartum but I can’t say that what we’ve been through didn’t also come with many hidden treasures that ultimately led to me growing into the woman I am today, my partner growing into the father he is now and us together moulding into the family unit we so deeply treasure.

The past decade taught me to honour myself. As a woman, a mother, a soulful business owner, a writer. Yes, there, I said it. A writer.

I have spent so much of the past 10 years wearing off any harm to my children’s innate guidance system, spent countless hours learning - through teachings but mostly real life - about how to unlearn and get out of their way to make space for them to shape and mould into whatever it is they feel pulled towards.

And I don’t necessarily believe that if I hadn’t done that, they wouldn't ultimately end up where they’re supposed to be regardless, however allowing them to express themselves and having innate trust in their abilities definitely has a huge effect on the way they see themselves now and later on in life.

I spent so much time reading about the first 7 years, books and lectures and studies about the human brain and our development, alongside with every conscious parenting book under the sun hand in hand with the divine guidance from ancient teachings, that one day I realised I was barley living up to my potential. There I was shielding them from anyone who could ever tell them they couldn’t be what they wanted to be, though at the same time I was hiding behind the identity of the mother.

I was comfortable there so I didn’t loudly claim that I was a photographer, I didn’t share my gifts of yoga and meditation although I had been practicing with dedication for over a decade, I didn’t even come close to telling a soul that yes I had been writing my whole life and that I dream about eventually having people read my books.

And it wasn’t until everyone around me pushed me off the cliff, that I dusted myself off, collected the broken bones and committed to treating myself with the loving kindness and endless possibility pep-talk I give my kids every single day.

Because ultimately that’s how they learn too. By watching us.

In some odd way it felt more vulnerable to out myself as a writer than anything else I had done in my life. And when watching my babies walk away from me that day, I, for the first time woke up to the fact that that’s what I am now.

I am as much of a writer and artist as I am a mother. It’s not one or the other. I am “good” at mothering and I think for a long time I let my internal judge rule over whether I was as “good” of a writer or artist as well.

Not that I really believe in it being as simple as being a good or bad mother or a good or bad writer/ artist, I don’t necessarily like the language around being good or bad at something in general. There are so many layers interwoven into the journey of a creative mother but I think especially as mothers we tend to take the safer, more predictable and less stimulating path rather than jump and dance with the unknown - probably because we do that all too much in our daily life of chasing toddlers through the forest and raising young, rebellious, wild and free children.

Upon further reflection I also realised that while my kids and I had grown, so did my dreams and my ability to hold them. They grew and flourished because I nourished them as much as I nourished my babies. And I was able to tend to them in the loving way I aimed for because I learned how to love and feed myself and my heart too.

Through a decade of meditation, stillness and returning to self I could finally now acknowledge the growth that had come with it. And to share it now with you might just be the greatest honour.

I wasn’t only waving them goodbye on that day but also that version of me that existed over a decade ago. The version that felt lost and a little empty, the version that drank and smoked her way through life’s challenges because all she knew back then was how to numb the pain. The version that when sitting in stillness knew there was so much more yet couldn’t define what that was, couldn’t quite see the way.

I am on that way now.

This

is

the

way

I was so desperately searching for all those years ago.

An hour and a half later, my son came running into my arms and even though I could feel the heaviness of his body pressed against mine, I had never felt lighter knowing that I transformed in the short 90 minutes but really 11+ years, that I had integrated something much grander that I could define in a single piece of writing in the mere few moments I could’ve dismissed as just another day in the life of a homeschooling mother, as we so often do.

To honour these moments is to honour ourselves. To listen and connect to our inner voice is to deepen the connection with self, the most important relationship in my opinion - the one that radiates and penetrates into all other areas of life. And when we do that, when we open our hearts to the dialogue with our inner blooming field of wildflowers, the magic sprinkles of creation, we allow an avalanche of seeds of possibilities to rain down on us, simply waiting for us to take hold.

To plant them.

To water them.

To nourish them.

As we water us.

While we water our children.

And nourish us.

While nourish our children.

And allow us all to grow.

So from deep within, thank you for being here and supporting me as a writer. The appreciation I carry in my heart for you all is immense.

Thank you also for committing to supporting yourself in this ever so grand journey back to self as well.

Growing in this space with you might just be one of my favourite things.

If you enjoyed this letter or any of my work, I’d truly appreciate you sharing them with others. It really does go such a long way.

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Thank you for your kindness.

All my love,
Claudia x