The Mothering Paradox
And choosing the joy that is ahead...
This day is a day in the U.S. we celebrate Mothers Day. And we all celebrate it and understand it differently; some never had a mother but were mothered by others; some of us aren’t mothers; some of us are. We all understand and step into this day a little differently.
I have spent much of my adult life mothering. It has been a joy, a privilege, one of my greatest accomplishments in my life. It has been hard, it has been rewarding. I am continuously learning how to mother, be a better mother, and I always will. I will make some mistakes, and I will do some things right. This is the way of mothering. We are never done; we are always learning; we are always on a quest of loving.
The role of a mother is a unique job description. We never retire. It's a permanent position.
Mothering looks different for each of us - so for the many ways you mother…and was mothered, and even if you weren’t, as a mother, I can say this: your mistakes, your lack of being mothered, or lack of mothering, does not define you.
While mothering is lifelong and a noble and lovely task and a fulfilling task - it also isn’t the only way to life a fulfilled and purposeful life. It doesn’t define your goodness or your worth. Your failures or successes as a mother do not define you. And they never will.
However you define yourself on this day that honors mothering, I want to tell you that it can fulfill you, but it also doesn’t completely define you.
Such a paradox, right? I call it The Mothering Paradox.
It is a beautiful gift, yet it isn’t the only beautiful gift. It is one of many beautiful gifts - and the privilege it holds is one to embrace and hold with integrity, with fear, with trembling, with joy.
So in honor of this Happy Mothering Day, below is a poem someone shared with me which I felt was appropriate for Mother’s Day:
Imaginary Conversation
by Linda Pastan
You tell me to live each day
as if it were my last. This is in the kitchen
where before coffee I complain
of the day ahead—that obstacle race
of minutes and hours,
grocery stores and doctors.
But why the last? I ask. Why not
live each day as if it were the first—
all raw astonishment, Eve rubbing
her eyes awake that first morning,
the sun coming up
like an ingénue in the east?
You grind the coffee
with the small roar of a mind
trying to clear itself. I set
the table, glance out the window
where dew has baptized every
living surface.
May is My Birthday Month!
For years, I didn’t share it was my birthday; I didn’t want to shout it like a bullhorn; I hoped others would somehow know. But this year, I spoke up and shared it on Facebook and Instagram. You know, life is too short not to celebrate! Let’s celebrate we made it another year. That’s no small thing. Let’s celebrate being alive, that we are all here, let’s celebrate every good thing, let’s take life by the horns and shout the joy out of each and every day we are alive.
And another thing is - I needed folks to know. There was a time I’d get texts and phone calls; now it’s eerily and very depressingly quieter. It’s lonelier. My inner circle is small to begin with, and has shrunk since my kids have grown. I know we as moms are all busy - but it’s taken me time to understand and process this - were all my friendships just based on my kids’ connections? Surely, some were, but I thought other relationships with mom-friends had more depth than that; I thought we as women and moms and humans had connected on more levels than simply what common activities our kids were doing.
Anyway, I find myself yearning to rebuild some friendships and start anew in this emerging phase of life. And let me tell you - it is hard. It is hard! If you’ve been around here a while, you know one of my passions is about the need for social connection and the challenges our culture is experiencing with social isolation and the loneliness epidemic. So if this is you, I’m here with you longing to build and deepen and stretch the social connections in my own life, too. ❤
So, my birthday was on Friday and Sunday (today) is Mother’s Day. And on the day in-between these two, my youngest child graduated from college. (WHAT? I can’t even begin to explain the cliche of how it really flew by. Didn’t we just drop him off for his freshman year the other day??)
I haven’t processed all of this yet, though of course, I knew it was coming. Though the college years were sort of a prelude to the empty nest, now it is officially the main stanza, as he prepares to move soon to another city for a job. His older siblings have already moved out for work, and though this is “the way it should be” and multitudes before me have sipped the bittersweetness of this empty-nest-of-mothering-stage-cup, I feel the newness as it is the first time for me. It is officially the EMPTY NEST stage, and I am feeling all the feels.
Don’t get me wrong - I am THRILLED for my kids and their futures. And my life is fulfilling with so many dreams and goals I am pursuing, and I feel like I am finding myself in new ways. But I hold these both in my hands: both the grief of these years and the joy of these years and the grief and joy of the future. Life is so WEIRD and at the same time so GOOD and at the same time so darn HARD. (Solidarity, if you feel this, too.)
Last weekend, I spent a weekend away with a friend on a writing retreat. I had a goal of writing 10,000 words (which I don’t even want to admit because it feels like too small of a number for a weekend—my original lofty ideal was 20,000 words) but I scaled it to what seemed realistic. And I walked away with 8000 words, and yet, I chose to be happy with that. I was genuinely happy with it. It was 8000 more words than I had before, and that is definitely something. It was the right goal for me.
But back to the empty nest. The thoughts and emotions are sinking in, but in the meantime, I need time to think, process, write. Life is moving into another phase, and I feel as if I am always trying to catch up to the pace at which it moves. It doesn’t slow down; I have finally realized it is me that has to stop and intentionally slow down myself to think and let the newness of it soak in, and imagine what new joy or gift might be around the bend; imagine what nugget I might learn next about living and loving. It’s a lifelong quest, isn’t it? I am choosing to think and imagine about joys ahead. I am choosing to step into gratitude. I get to pick that; there isn’t much else I can genuinely choose, right? So much is out of our control. I don’t know what is ahead: I do know troubles and challenges are always around the bend. But here is what I can actually control: that joy is also ahead, and I choose to find it (yes, even amidst all of life’s challenges).
So, in honor of my birthday, here is another poem I dearly love, about savoring each day and each passing year.
EVERY DAY
by Naomi Shihab Nye
My hundred-year-old next-door neighbor told me:
Every day is a good day *if you have it.*
I had to think about that a minute.
She said, Every day is a present
someone left at your birthday place at the table.
Trust me! It may not feel like that
but it’s true. When you’re my age
you’ll know. Twelve is a treasure.
And it’s up to you
to unwrap the package gently,
lift out the gleaming hours
wrapped in tissue,
don’t miss the bottom of the box.
Book Birthday!
My book celebrated its one year birthday on April 16!! (cue the confetti!)
In celebration, I had a book signing at Barnes and Noble in Madison, WI; I was part of a panel discussion at the Women Developing Wisconsin conference in Milwaukee, WI; and I celebrated at an AAPI Gathering Night just outside of Chicago, IL.
As May is not only my birthday month, but also AAPI Heritage Month and Mental Health Awareness Month, as a gift and as a way of connecting with someone else, reach out to an Asian friend and ask how they’re doing, meet for coffee, chai, or boba tea, and talk.
Also, if you wanted to bless an Asian friend with a copy of my book (or for yourself), or leave a one sentence review on Amazon, I can’t say I would be upset about it (Amazon reviews are free author gifts!!)
On this day last year, I was traveling on Mothers Day weekend to pick up my mother and bring her to my house. She is still with me - it has been one year. So this year, as well as last year, I will get to celebrate Mother’s Day with my mother - something I wasn’t able to do for many years while I was raising my own children and living 800 miles away. I was traveling last year on this weekend and this year, it was graduation weekend. And sometimes, Mothers Day falls on my birthday. Sometimes life happens all at once. I wouldn’t trade any of it. Here’s a picture of my mother holding me.
You know this was a journey - and I’ve shared a little bit of it in my book, and I’ve shared pieces of the story here on this newsletter.
It’s been an amazing and full year, with much to process and much to be thankful for. Each year is a gift and not to be taken for granted. Thank you for being here, for being a part of my journey, and a part of my life!
Remember this: you are loved, you have a unique story to tell, and you belong.
Be thankful for the mothering (those that you mother and those that mother you) in your life. Remember The Mothering Paradox, both the joys and griefs of mothering, both how it fulfills and defines, and how it doesn’t, remember that both are equally valid, equally true.
Choose the joy that is ahead, dear ones. ❤
Much love to you,
I can SOOOO relate!!
Quite a weekend! Happy Birthday, Mother’s Day and youngest child graduating from college! Enjoy your day!