Oh yes. If ever I had doubts that thoughts could travel to others, be heard and felt, be reflected or absorbed, be answered across oceans and time….I feel doubtless after reading your words.
I find myself in a place I never thought possible right now, mothering my own mother, in the form of loving emails back and forth across the Tasman sea, mothering her in a way I never felt mothered by her. But feeling healed by the act, as I recognise her ‘broken wingedness’…as I turn towards her instead of shying away, maybe the bravest thing I have ever done, as I give to her all I have denied her in my own defence, in my childish holding onto past hurts and victimhood. The wonder is of how small a distance there was between what I felt was not possible, and the possibility itself. How all I needed to do, to gain the gifts I wished for from her, was to give them to her myself. Space to believe whatever she believes, to be herself, acceptance of her as she is, not as I wish her to be, contact that is non-judgemental and controlling, dusted off memories of moments of love and care, instead of held hurts, armoured expectations and fear. I wanted her to see me, to know me…I needed to see her, to know her, to ask for her story and hear it without being braced for it to conflict with my own ‘truth’.
I am grateful I have lived long enough to feel this. I am grateful for your writings Jane, they tell me ‘keep going, you are on the path, see?’ ❤️
Christine, I am so moved by this. Thank you. I feel like I need to read it over again and again to find adequate words of reply. You are quite wonderful.
"How all I needed to do, to gain the gifts I wished for from her, was to give them to her myself."
So beautifully expressed, a gift, thank you, for I am going through the exact same time in my life, mothering a mother who struggled to mother me. It is indeed an act of bravery to turn towards mother without bracing, without fear. It is indeed the biggest act of bravery is to mother our mothers who couldn’t mother, with deep compassion and unconditional love. I never thought I would be able to but here I am. Thank you for sharing your experience. ❤️
It seems to be a special sort of alchemy, to have the opportunity (even if unasked for, perhaps even unwanted) to get to mother in times and situations where it was unable to be offered in the first instance. A chance to heal something in reverse. Thank you so much for this Sarah xx
Thank you so much Jane and Christine to form words to free my imprisoned feelings! With your thoughts you have torn open a window inside me and let some wonderful fresh air into the eternally revolving thoughts that have been dusty and mothballed over so many years, destroying me. Thank you for your courageous words! You have changed my perspective. Instead of breaking in the longing to be seen, to see the mother with her broken wings, to give her what I have longed for all my life.
I am felt here. I am heard. I am seen. I am mourning the course of myself and my mother and the mothers who have mothered me unspoken -- the ghosts of my mothers going back. I don't know where to start quoting because I am so intimately seen. So much of what you have written is important to the spirit of the things that matter -- the things that truly matter in an intimate, bone-deep way -- but this is the source. You have tapped the source. I adore you. Thank you for your bravery. And thank you for your spirit that finds the words for the things.
Thank you for this amazing piece of writing. I love my mum dearly but there are gnarly bits leftover from childhood/teenagehood still surprisingly vivid though many many many years have passed. She’s an amazing woman & I appreciate now the young woman she was when she had us - how it must’ve been for her - her other paths not travelled. Thank you Jane for your writing & building this beautiful community.
"Her other paths not travelled"- that is such an amazing line and reflection. Thank you so much Christine, these are such beautiful words. And community wise, equally grateful to be a part of it with you xx
My mother too struggled with mental health issues and anger making being with her extremely difficult at times, from childhood to adulthood.
I moved to NZ from the UK and felt that I might not see her again, she died suddenly when I was here so my feeling was right.
However before she died I had the wonderful release of 'forgiving' her. I wrote a long letter thanking her for evrything she had done for us...myself and 2 sisters.
I listed everything I could think of. In doing so i realised just how much she had done.
So much more in fact than the 'negative' things.
It was incredibly cathartic.
I told my sisters and I believe it helped them to see the good side of her..to release some of their anger too.
Now when I think of her it is with gratitude not anger.
Thankyou for sharing your beautifully written honesty.
I'm so glad that you had this experience Gilly. This part in particular-- it's so true isn't it:
"I listed everything I could think of. In doing so i realised just how much she had done. So much more in fact than the 'negative' things."
Even if the truth of what we experienced remains, it's always couched within a context that's infinitely vaster and so much bigger. Thank you so much for your words and taking the time to read mine xx
Fierce, courageous, soo potent and resonant. Wow. An anthem for mothers…women. And…perhaps too the great Mother, Goddess, the Earth. You are a force Jane. 🐲🔥⚡️❤️❤️
I have read this a few times and found it deeply moving. Well… I have just listened to the audio and find myself staring at the wall. I’m not sure how long I have been like this. The washing I was folding remains unfolded, scattered around me.
Your words are so deeply moving, representing mothers world wide in so many distinct yet such connected ways. I found your voice raw and your message so unabridged. Thank you for knowing, writing and saying out loud, for those of us that are yet to fully find our voice.
Thank you, Jane, for sharing this deeply personal and poignant experience of mothering. Like so many here, it is such a gift to read the raw truth of another’s lived experience that reflects my lived experience of mothering. It is beautiful and sad, to think of She, of the Broken Wings…a sadness that needs to be held tenderly and seen. I feel healing, now, to know that in the last months (years?) of my mother’s life that I am caring for her broken wings. She has lost most faculties and now I can move in closer to help her as she is no longer able to fight, to hurt, to defend. This has brought unexpected healing to both of us after so many years of pain. Such gifts of the broken wing…
Deep gratitude to you, Jane, that you had the courage to share with scintillating expression. In this way, we give air to lift those devastatingly beautiful broken wings ❤️.
Oh Sarah, I feel so much love and heartbreak reading your words. The gifts of the broken wing... this is so true. And I'm filled with admiration and courage (although I recognise it may not feel like that) for you, those in a similar situation who rise up to offer something that they haven't / hadn't experienced in return. If that's not a flag of love for humanity, I don't know what is. Thank you so much xx
My solar plexus vibrates after reading this. Your words are a fully visceral experience. Just remarkable. I don’t know how you plunged so deeply and so clearly, but plunge you did. I will read this again and again. I feel rather overwhelmed by this, Jane. I felt the prick that deflated your balloon… I feel mine was affected too. It’s quite something, this being a mother, isn’t it?! My son was ill for a while last year, emotionally upset by so many upsets…and at 28 began to lose all this hair in tufted patches. He had always had beautiful thigh dark hair and to see him look like a little lost semi plucked chicken and experience his anguish was horrendous for me just as much as him. I became him. He decided to go traveling for a few months and asked me to shave his head for him as he couldn’t do it himself. We went into the shower and I shaved off the rest of his gorgeous dark hair… well it was … something. Hard. Terrible. And then he went and something bad happened and he rang me sobbing and I was alone and couldn’t hold him but somehow found the words… and then when we hung up I cried and got out of bed and got on my knees and prayed even though I’m not religious I prayed and he found the strength to go to travel from where he was to Bali where he found his “tribe” (skateboarders!) and trampolined back into a positive place. He’s home again now, and has once again thick beautiful dark hair… and I am a mother and I will always worry and try my best. Thanks for writing what you wrote and for reading this long blabbbbb!! Xx
Oof, Francesca, I felt all of that. Mothering at times feels like being plunged into the underworld and then back again with the intensity of it all. If religion took ownership of praying, then I think we take it back within ourselves in times like you described and own it equally (if not more). I am so glad that he found your son found his way and is flourishing again. Thank you for sharing this with us (and for taking the time to read my words)- much love to you and your lovely boy xx
So brilliant! Thank you for your courage in writing this piece for us here. Amazing what your words make happen in others. I feel so recognised, enriched, and fulfilled where there was a small pit of emptiness and desolation before... you give words bring back a reality long buried without due recognition of the tragic mother love as if it were of no consequence. Now to revisit a small past on the path to wholeness... if to do no more than scatter a few rose petals into the wind.
Thank you so much Noha. On the one hand, I wish it didn't resonate, and on the other, it's beautiful to be able to hold our hearts together. Thanks for taking the time to read xx
Such a visceral image of sending her into the forest… fur-lined… raw… to catch the whispers of all the women that she was… Powerful and relatable. You bring me there—to that forest’s edge where the question still echoes on the wind…
“Do you dare to enter?”
Just discovered your stack and I love your voice, Jane. I often find myself skimming posts, but here I was reading, re-reading, devouring your words as if quenching a deep and unslakable thirst. Thank you for the vulnerability and deep magic you bring to the world.
Dear Jane, your words were so touching. As a mother of three 30-something-year-olds, I've had one in a war zone, one mothering my two grandbabies, and one balancing creativity with work. They each and together still need my mothering, and that is my heartfelt commitment. I never cease to wonder at the lack of our societal recognition, but it's certainly in force and enforced. I remain steadfast regardless. My own mother saw mothering as a job that went along with her prestigious marriage. Sometimes I despair and marvel at the waste of riches bestowed upon her, but mostly I delight in the incredible beauty of my own family. Horses have healed me far more than I can begin to describe.
What a gift it is to meet your words and your voice in the splendid glory of your poetry and lyrics prose. I felt goosebumps all over me, tears streaming down my eyes, and fire at the back of my throat all at the same time. I love this piece Jane, I am so grateful that you chose to handle it with so much grace and motherly ferocity (towards yourself first because we all are mothers to our inner child as well).
I understand the difficultly of embracing motherhood while working as a professional in men led industries and not letting it become your weakness. I understand the power struggle of motherhood not letting motherhood shadow their work. I deeply respect your courage and decision to embrace it fully. What a timeless piece of work! Absolutely gorgeous 💜
Oh Swarnali, thank you for taking the time to be here and to read this. And thank you for your words. It's an honour to have them held and received in such a way- I'm so appreciative xx
Oh yes. If ever I had doubts that thoughts could travel to others, be heard and felt, be reflected or absorbed, be answered across oceans and time….I feel doubtless after reading your words.
I find myself in a place I never thought possible right now, mothering my own mother, in the form of loving emails back and forth across the Tasman sea, mothering her in a way I never felt mothered by her. But feeling healed by the act, as I recognise her ‘broken wingedness’…as I turn towards her instead of shying away, maybe the bravest thing I have ever done, as I give to her all I have denied her in my own defence, in my childish holding onto past hurts and victimhood. The wonder is of how small a distance there was between what I felt was not possible, and the possibility itself. How all I needed to do, to gain the gifts I wished for from her, was to give them to her myself. Space to believe whatever she believes, to be herself, acceptance of her as she is, not as I wish her to be, contact that is non-judgemental and controlling, dusted off memories of moments of love and care, instead of held hurts, armoured expectations and fear. I wanted her to see me, to know me…I needed to see her, to know her, to ask for her story and hear it without being braced for it to conflict with my own ‘truth’.
I am grateful I have lived long enough to feel this. I am grateful for your writings Jane, they tell me ‘keep going, you are on the path, see?’ ❤️
Christine, I am so moved by this. Thank you. I feel like I need to read it over again and again to find adequate words of reply. You are quite wonderful.
"How all I needed to do, to gain the gifts I wished for from her, was to give them to her myself."
Oof. So much love xx
So beautifully expressed, a gift, thank you, for I am going through the exact same time in my life, mothering a mother who struggled to mother me. It is indeed an act of bravery to turn towards mother without bracing, without fear. It is indeed the biggest act of bravery is to mother our mothers who couldn’t mother, with deep compassion and unconditional love. I never thought I would be able to but here I am. Thank you for sharing your experience. ❤️
It seems to be a special sort of alchemy, to have the opportunity (even if unasked for, perhaps even unwanted) to get to mother in times and situations where it was unable to be offered in the first instance. A chance to heal something in reverse. Thank you so much for this Sarah xx
Thank you so much Jane and Christine to form words to free my imprisoned feelings! With your thoughts you have torn open a window inside me and let some wonderful fresh air into the eternally revolving thoughts that have been dusty and mothballed over so many years, destroying me. Thank you for your courageous words! You have changed my perspective. Instead of breaking in the longing to be seen, to see the mother with her broken wings, to give her what I have longed for all my life.
Thank you for the opportunity to heal us both. ❤️
With love
~ Claudia
I am felt here. I am heard. I am seen. I am mourning the course of myself and my mother and the mothers who have mothered me unspoken -- the ghosts of my mothers going back. I don't know where to start quoting because I am so intimately seen. So much of what you have written is important to the spirit of the things that matter -- the things that truly matter in an intimate, bone-deep way -- but this is the source. You have tapped the source. I adore you. Thank you for your bravery. And thank you for your spirit that finds the words for the things.
Kimberly, if this was the only response I ever got, it would be enough. Thank you so much. Adore you right back xx
Thank you for this amazing piece of writing. I love my mum dearly but there are gnarly bits leftover from childhood/teenagehood still surprisingly vivid though many many many years have passed. She’s an amazing woman & I appreciate now the young woman she was when she had us - how it must’ve been for her - her other paths not travelled. Thank you Jane for your writing & building this beautiful community.
"Her other paths not travelled"- that is such an amazing line and reflection. Thank you so much Christine, these are such beautiful words. And community wise, equally grateful to be a part of it with you xx
My mother too struggled with mental health issues and anger making being with her extremely difficult at times, from childhood to adulthood.
I moved to NZ from the UK and felt that I might not see her again, she died suddenly when I was here so my feeling was right.
However before she died I had the wonderful release of 'forgiving' her. I wrote a long letter thanking her for evrything she had done for us...myself and 2 sisters.
I listed everything I could think of. In doing so i realised just how much she had done.
So much more in fact than the 'negative' things.
It was incredibly cathartic.
I told my sisters and I believe it helped them to see the good side of her..to release some of their anger too.
Now when I think of her it is with gratitude not anger.
Thankyou for sharing your beautifully written honesty.
I'm so glad that you had this experience Gilly. This part in particular-- it's so true isn't it:
"I listed everything I could think of. In doing so i realised just how much she had done. So much more in fact than the 'negative' things."
Even if the truth of what we experienced remains, it's always couched within a context that's infinitely vaster and so much bigger. Thank you so much for your words and taking the time to read mine xx
Fierce, courageous, soo potent and resonant. Wow. An anthem for mothers…women. And…perhaps too the great Mother, Goddess, the Earth. You are a force Jane. 🐲🔥⚡️❤️❤️
Thank you so much Susie- if I am a force then I see the same in you ❤️
I have read this a few times and found it deeply moving. Well… I have just listened to the audio and find myself staring at the wall. I’m not sure how long I have been like this. The washing I was folding remains unfolded, scattered around me.
Your words are so deeply moving, representing mothers world wide in so many distinct yet such connected ways. I found your voice raw and your message so unabridged. Thank you for knowing, writing and saying out loud, for those of us that are yet to fully find our voice.
Jx
Thank you Joanna- I'm so appreciative of you xx
Thank you, Jane, for sharing this deeply personal and poignant experience of mothering. Like so many here, it is such a gift to read the raw truth of another’s lived experience that reflects my lived experience of mothering. It is beautiful and sad, to think of She, of the Broken Wings…a sadness that needs to be held tenderly and seen. I feel healing, now, to know that in the last months (years?) of my mother’s life that I am caring for her broken wings. She has lost most faculties and now I can move in closer to help her as she is no longer able to fight, to hurt, to defend. This has brought unexpected healing to both of us after so many years of pain. Such gifts of the broken wing…
Deep gratitude to you, Jane, that you had the courage to share with scintillating expression. In this way, we give air to lift those devastatingly beautiful broken wings ❤️.
Oh Sarah, I feel so much love and heartbreak reading your words. The gifts of the broken wing... this is so true. And I'm filled with admiration and courage (although I recognise it may not feel like that) for you, those in a similar situation who rise up to offer something that they haven't / hadn't experienced in return. If that's not a flag of love for humanity, I don't know what is. Thank you so much xx
🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻 thank you, thank you Jane for your words. So grateful to be here, interwoven is becoming my favourite journey of all xxxx
So grateful for you. I thought of you and your mothering in moments when I wrote this. Thank you Sally xx
My solar plexus vibrates after reading this. Your words are a fully visceral experience. Just remarkable. I don’t know how you plunged so deeply and so clearly, but plunge you did. I will read this again and again. I feel rather overwhelmed by this, Jane. I felt the prick that deflated your balloon… I feel mine was affected too. It’s quite something, this being a mother, isn’t it?! My son was ill for a while last year, emotionally upset by so many upsets…and at 28 began to lose all this hair in tufted patches. He had always had beautiful thigh dark hair and to see him look like a little lost semi plucked chicken and experience his anguish was horrendous for me just as much as him. I became him. He decided to go traveling for a few months and asked me to shave his head for him as he couldn’t do it himself. We went into the shower and I shaved off the rest of his gorgeous dark hair… well it was … something. Hard. Terrible. And then he went and something bad happened and he rang me sobbing and I was alone and couldn’t hold him but somehow found the words… and then when we hung up I cried and got out of bed and got on my knees and prayed even though I’m not religious I prayed and he found the strength to go to travel from where he was to Bali where he found his “tribe” (skateboarders!) and trampolined back into a positive place. He’s home again now, and has once again thick beautiful dark hair… and I am a mother and I will always worry and try my best. Thanks for writing what you wrote and for reading this long blabbbbb!! Xx
Oof, Francesca, I felt all of that. Mothering at times feels like being plunged into the underworld and then back again with the intensity of it all. If religion took ownership of praying, then I think we take it back within ourselves in times like you described and own it equally (if not more). I am so glad that he found your son found his way and is flourishing again. Thank you for sharing this with us (and for taking the time to read my words)- much love to you and your lovely boy xx
So brilliant! Thank you for your courage in writing this piece for us here. Amazing what your words make happen in others. I feel so recognised, enriched, and fulfilled where there was a small pit of emptiness and desolation before... you give words bring back a reality long buried without due recognition of the tragic mother love as if it were of no consequence. Now to revisit a small past on the path to wholeness... if to do no more than scatter a few rose petals into the wind.
Sylvia, thank you- for what you shared here and for reading my words. I will scatter the petals in the wind right along side you. So much love xx
This may not have been within the poem but it was powerfully poetic Jane 😭👏🏽
"I pushed her deep into the forest.
Not to lose what was soft, but to find what was fierce.
I wanted her to hunt, gather, scavenge. To feel a hunger beyond what food could feed."
Thank you so much Jamal xx
Oh Jane, this broke my heart and opened my heart at the same time. So many resonated with me, either because I’ve been that she or seen that she.
Thank you so much Noha. On the one hand, I wish it didn't resonate, and on the other, it's beautiful to be able to hold our hearts together. Thanks for taking the time to read xx
Such a visceral image of sending her into the forest… fur-lined… raw… to catch the whispers of all the women that she was… Powerful and relatable. You bring me there—to that forest’s edge where the question still echoes on the wind…
“Do you dare to enter?”
Just discovered your stack and I love your voice, Jane. I often find myself skimming posts, but here I was reading, re-reading, devouring your words as if quenching a deep and unslakable thirst. Thank you for the vulnerability and deep magic you bring to the world.
Thank you so much for your words Allysha, they really mean a lot xx
Dear Jane, your words were so touching. As a mother of three 30-something-year-olds, I've had one in a war zone, one mothering my two grandbabies, and one balancing creativity with work. They each and together still need my mothering, and that is my heartfelt commitment. I never cease to wonder at the lack of our societal recognition, but it's certainly in force and enforced. I remain steadfast regardless. My own mother saw mothering as a job that went along with her prestigious marriage. Sometimes I despair and marvel at the waste of riches bestowed upon her, but mostly I delight in the incredible beauty of my own family. Horses have healed me far more than I can begin to describe.
Oh Laura, so much beauty- thank you. I so appreciate you taking the time to read and sharing this with me. Much love to you xx
Breathtakingly beautiful darling Jane x
Thank you so much for reading lovely Tracey xx
What a gift it is to meet your words and your voice in the splendid glory of your poetry and lyrics prose. I felt goosebumps all over me, tears streaming down my eyes, and fire at the back of my throat all at the same time. I love this piece Jane, I am so grateful that you chose to handle it with so much grace and motherly ferocity (towards yourself first because we all are mothers to our inner child as well).
I understand the difficultly of embracing motherhood while working as a professional in men led industries and not letting it become your weakness. I understand the power struggle of motherhood not letting motherhood shadow their work. I deeply respect your courage and decision to embrace it fully. What a timeless piece of work! Absolutely gorgeous 💜
Oh Swarnali, thank you for taking the time to be here and to read this. And thank you for your words. It's an honour to have them held and received in such a way- I'm so appreciative xx