Discover the profound ripple effect of self-betterment and the joyous journey within. In 28 days of self-care, this blog has become a sanctuary for kindred spirits. Embrace your healing journey, understanding that by improving yourself, you not only enhance your family unit but contribute to a better world, inspiring others to join the transformative trek. Explore reflections on boundaries, morning gratitude, and the essence of a slow, soulful Sunday. Dive into the joys of nature, bookshelf adventures, and the art of slowing down.

Signed into WordPress and came upon to this:

Just a few days ago I was astounded by the numbers and views this website was grabbing – my little world of motherhood wisdom, sacred spiritual knowledge, awakened mama gathering, spirit baby readings, past life connections, womb lightcode activations, and authentic mothering stories. And now, 411 unique folks have dipped their toes in my little piece of spiritual real estate, and I have 860 views. It is endlessly hard to wrap my head around the fact that me finding a place to take care of my spirit through writing has created an energetic call to like-minded souls who are along for the journey with me. 28 days of me diving deep into myself in this space and it’s opened up a world of connection. Humbled and grateful doesn’t cut it, but it’s the words I have, right now. I’ll stop sharing the numbers here because really, it isn’t about the numbers; I just can’t help myself sometimes because my heart is touched beyond measure. What was a space for my healing and the reclaiming of my identity became a space for others to heal. I love that.

It is proof that when you focus on your betterment, the ripple it has into the Universe is astounding. I wrote about this in my book, as well: when you focus on growing your joy, you are automatically inclined to share that joy outwards into your community, into the world. Healing is the same: find a way to heal yourself and make yourself better for your own little family unit and you ultimately end up making yourself better for the world – and encourage others to dive in deep and make space for themselves to be better, who ultimately end up impacting the world.

I love it. 28-days of self-care and discovery, 28-days of more souls coming to join my trek.

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Yesterday, I began the book All My Wild Mothers, and it’s one of those really-hard-to-put-down texts. The micro-chapters written in heart-touching prose scattered with little pieces of herbal/plant wisdom has you endlessly turning the pages: just one more chapter, just one more chapter, just one more chapter. But the content, at the moment, is very heavy. It’s about a woman who loses her sister and her son is born just days later. She navigates grief through growth; through the random decision to grow a wild “apothecary” garden. The grief part is difficult to carry – and almost impossible not to carry when you are reading the book. It will likely continue throughout but I just hit the “hard part” and I’m hoping it softens a little as the author simultaneously softens through the new life in her world, and the creation of wild life along with it.

In order to protect myself emotionally, mentally, and spiritually, if it does not soften, I will need to (disappointingly) put it aside. I do not want the weight of the content of this book impact my ever-present load as mother and I don’t want the grief of another to be something I (willingly) carry, at this time.

Though I am only referring to a book, these boundaries should be set in all of life, and you, Awakened Mama, are not selfish to set them. As healers, as compassionate and empathetic spirits, we will draw others who see us as a refuge from their weight and, (often) unintentionally dump it all on you to carry. You have no obligation to take up this load, even though it may feel like it’s your responsibility to help.

Help meant “assistant, helper, supporter” in Middle English (c. 1200), and Helpestre “a female helper” is recorded from c. 1400. We, as womban, as mothers, are seen as caretakers, and this can be taken advantage of by even the most well-meaning individuals. We are not a product to be consumed, and neither is our kindness. We are not a servant to the grief and the emotional weight of others, and we shouldn’t allow ourselves to be – except, perhaps, in exception to our child. Perhaps many feel we are a “safe space” and that is a beautiful thing to be for someone, but unless their dump is prefaced with, please only respond if you are emotionally able, we may need to set boundaries, ourselves.

And again: boundaries are not selfish, should not make you feel guilty, and should not make you feel like a bad person. What boundaries say to others is: I have taken the time to heal, know, and understand myself deeply and, as such, I am aware of what I am capable of navigating. In order to ensure I am the best version of myself for my child(ren) and my family, this storm is not one I am prepared to pilot at this moment.

I have found a receipt folded between the pages of this used copy of All My Wild Mothers – one from just this past December. This book has been abandoned recently, and has ended up in my hands just two months later. We are almost two months on the date. Did she abandon the book because she, too, could not navigate the weight of sadness seeped in its pages? Was this book reading but not worth keeping? Or could the woman, the owner of this receipt, not find herself in the pages and felt it was better off in someone else’s hands (mine)?

Who is she, this wild mother, an awakened mama like myself, no doubt – nothing else explains being drawn to this particular book. I wonder how it found her – the book. It showed up on my Pinterest when I was navigating inspirational content. How did it find her? Was it gifted to her?

It’s a receipt for a garden center – the same kind of shop I plan to go to this afternoon – a natural haven, with life sprouting, with seeds to grow, with plants to fill your home with, with flowers to fill your life with. What did she buy? I google ‘zero-rated’ and discover it’s used in the UK to describe non-taxed items; plants, food, flowers.

What did she buy on Thursday, December 21st, 2023? I was with my parents that day, readying for Christmas. Was she alone? Were these purchases she was making for the holidays, as well? I look up the garden center and it is a truly beautiful space; is she inspired there, as I am when I enter lush garden spaces? Does she, like me, struggle with finding a rhythm with nature that feels like her? What drew her to this book – a desire to nourish that bond she is trying to grow with the wild inside her? And Kelly, the woman who helped her check out, did they smile and share in their sisterhood for a moment?

Who is she? Is it you? Have you found this space, too?

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Sunday. Son-dai. The Lord’s day. The day of rest. The day of the sun.

I hope to embody the message and intention of this day. I am feeling a soul-rest, even as I write this. I do not feel the drive to create or the inspiration to launch forward in any particular direction. I feel drawn to reading, staying home, big sweaters, comfy socks, lazy afternoons, warm meals. I feel drawn to that slow living kind of life, and all it encompasses.

I bought binoculars, by the by. Well, my husband got them for me (online). They should arrive tomorrow. Just a small, light pair to dip my toes into the adventure. And then, because I have heard the call of the wild and now I can’t dim the noise, I also got a few used books online:

The bird books have buttons that play the songs of the birds – it will make identifying them a joy (in addition, it’s a kid’s board book so it may bring R into the adventure, as well). The little book of trees is a simple EU identifier book (am I going to put an adventure/walking pack together, soon?), and the ABC of Nature are flash cards for R – they are truly beautiful, and each card opens and expands. R is already a nature lover, but perhaps if I cater more to that part of his spirit, it will subsequently force me out and about and to love it even more, just to serve his joy.

Even the skies do not seem to want to match the name of the day. Maybe my Spirit calls for slow because I am (hyper) aware that this Sunday is the last to just us before my husband goes back to the office. Next week we are hosting his brother. This is our last slow day that leads into a Monday where he is home before it all goes “back to the old normal” (but I got so very used to the new normal).

I saw the old woman of House 105 this morning. She exited onto her front balcony in her head-to-toe blue houserobe, carrying a yellow bowl. She emptied something with care. What struck me were those beautiful wooden-framed glass doors that she swung open and then gently closed behind her. I wonder what room she just entered. I wonder what her morning routine looks like. I have never seen her collect eggs, but I have spotted that the chickens are out every day, now. What would my routine look like if I lived there? Where would I walk? What shutters would I open first? Where would I sit? I am inspired by trying to envision this house even further. I am going to go on a Pinterest hunt, and post my imaginings on a new board, as I feel it will bring some life and dreaming to this slow, soft day…

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My husband is sitting on the couch and reading a book I got him on using ChatGPT for business. Like me, he gets into these spirals of obsessive interests and this is his most recent one. I need to mention that he is not a reader. With ADHD and dyslexia, books were never sure friends. It is quite funny that he has married a (completely crazy) bibliophile. Seeing him sitting on the couch with a book is a beautiful thing. I want to join him – but I’ve got my words here to finish writing and then I need to prioritize lunch for the little before I can sit with a book. Oh, but how I long to join him! We have never sat together on the couch and read before; I am normally in my world while he is in his. But he is immersed in this book right now and it’s so lovely to see. Sometimes, all it takes to raise a reader is to find that one text that pulls them in deep. For my husband, it’s always non-fiction. This is a genre passion of my own, so I understand.

It’s naptime – of course – as I finish my writing for the day. The sun is coming out and it’s really lifting my spirits; it is lifting the fog of slow that started the day. The lucky cat on my desk is waving in full force (it’s mechanism triggered by solar power). She is a true sign of the strength of the sun coming through. Maybe it’s because I’m setting roots into this Sunday that I’m ready to grow and enjoy every moment of it, now. I don’t want to take that last Sunday alone for granted; the next Monday we will have to ourselves will steal away my husband, back to the offices of regular life. The Sunday Scaries will be real, in two weeks time – something I haven’t felt since I was a teacher.

Notwithstanding: perhaps slow Sundays should be a ritual of Awakened Mamas. On Mondays, for many of us, the main provider leaves the house and we are back in the deep-end of motherhood. On Mondays, we are steering the ship and working in full-gear. On Mondays, we are restructuring routines that were lost on the weekend and making space for extra connection due to the missing body in the home. On Mondays, we are sent back into that reminder of our individual strength and brought back to lessons of humility and patience. Maybe, just maybe, Sundays need to be slow for Awakened Mamas. Maybe, just maybe, Sundays are the day of the sun because we are making that time for ourselves, we are extra delicate on ourselves, and we are readying ourselves to be the brightest star for our child(ren), come Monday. What rituals will you implement on Sundays – just for you – mama?

I think I’ll just slow myself down and settle into this joy and read for a bit before I get to my mommy duties. We are going out for lunch (and to a garden center!) so there’s less on my plate once the munchkin wakes.

Oh — some lovely little news: when I upgraded this website, I was given a free domain name. I am now the proud owner of http://www.awakenedmamas.com — it simply redirects to this website. It’s all one in the same; dedicating our lives to our little souls and their betterment is dedication to ourselves, mamas!

xx C