Dear Friends,

Dancing hands to all hearts this weekend. Mother’s Day is one of my favorite celebrations. I love my mom, and I love my children. Yet, for me, this year, it’s complicated. Maybe for you, too? Whether you have children or not–adopted, fostered, lost, incoming, furry or feathered, on this side of the veil or in spirit, we all come from mothers. Even if you don’t know them, even if they’re not in your life, even if you’ve moved away or they’ve departed, wherever you are on your mothering/mothered path, I send you best wishes for days of peace, sweet memories, and joy for your healthiest way forward in all that means mother to you.

As many know, my mom left her earthly body nine and a half months ago. This is my first Mother’s Day without her on Earth. Some days, it feels like yesterday. Stranger days, I forget. I still feel like I can hop in the car and take her for a Yes Day with roses, a chocolate milkshake, splitting a sandwich, and one or two cats purring in her lap. But not today. 

Today, I keep floating to the day before she flew. She stroked my hair as if I were a child again, telling me she loved me and how proud she was of me and the gift of the Dancing Hands. She’d already been greeting those waiting for her on the other side of the veil and was radiant with every bit of love she’d ever shared. 

She whispered, “Keep dancing, Darlin.”

Though she was weak, she was party-lit and smiling, forever gracious. Everything seemed almost normal, only the week before. She was genuinely surprised we were wheeling her through an arc of balloons and paper lanterns to celebrate her 96^th birthday at home with just Sibbett kids, instead of into a surgery she’d earlier declined. The Gordian knot of life was loosened by saying, “No more surgeries. No more pokes.” I held my breath as I watched a cube of energy move to a new place in “what I knew” to “what she knew” before me. 

“Oh,” Mom took the information in with a brave “This is how it is, then” tiny nod. We blew out her candles together. We ate tart lemon cupcakes off pink party plates, as if it was all normal, and I had a side of quiet tears when no one was looking, pretending I was only licking buttercream frosting from my fingers. Reality as we’d known it jumped tracks. 

So, I won’t be setting up for brunch in my overgrown, flowery garden, making her favorite sandwiches, nor pouring her sparkling cider because she was never one for champagne. While I could sort through the boxes and bins of 96 years of treasures, Ruby and I are packing the four-legged babes and heading to the beach. Just as with my son, Kai, when I’m blue, throw me at the ocean where my tears melt in the sea of All-That-Is.

Grief is…  normal. What do they say? 

Grief is the sacred honor of loving well?

Whether it’s grief for our concept of mothering, nurturing, or for our motherland, many are feeling it. You, too? 

Or is it something altogether different every day? My humanness is forever learning as my hands are two days from ten years of being danced. Can you believe it? It’s hard to fathom this, too. Whether I’m Dancing Hands, in circles or privately, I’m in bliss, health, and happiness. There’s no lack, just the gift, being the open flute for Source’s sacred wisdom and/or perfecting energy for the best and highest good of one and all, individually and collectively, so even after all this time, I still can’t begin to convey how much I’m looking forward to dancing with you this week for our May Quanta Circle and Saturday for a little celebration.

What are you doing? Are you celebrating? Yes, the world is still upside-down. And it may be that way for a while longer. Let’s explore other mothering threads together to meet you where you are and see if our threads may twine for more love.

Tell me…

Do you believe it matters what our mothers think or thought? Is that thread important to you? How about how a cherished friend feels? How about strangers in your land? Strangers in other lands? In my world, yes. I believe it does matter to me. I do my best to honor not just my mother’s code of ethics, but the lineage of the strong women in our family. Again, I haven’t always succeeded. I admit my human frailties, and I don’t always succeed, but can we agree, for this Mother’s Day and beyond, to do our best to love the world in the way we always wish we’d been loved or given the chance to love? What would that look like? How would that feel if everyone were loving to the best of their ability? What if we really loved and honored, respected and were truthful and kind to our family, friends, and yes, even people we’ve never met, but who are part of our global family under one sky? Can we try? Let’s do that this week, starting now, no matter what comes our way, shall we? Love more with me? Shall we dance that? For the best and highest good?

I pray for peace again for all souls, not just those feeling frightened, disenfranchised, or detached from an inner or outer assurance of support or safety. I pray for all souls. Join me?

The constant for me right now for our dancing prayers is the gift we share together while in these circles of the Dancing Hands. We spoke of this last weekend, at the community Jane’s Dancing Hands Circle online. Our community is astonishingly beautiful, growing in their gifts and gifts with one another, supporting one another and as always, so loved. 

I hope you will join us.