The word “love” is most often defined as a noun, yet al the more astute theorists of love acknowledge that we would all love better if we used it as a verb. 

bell hooks

We just celebrated Mother’s Day in the United States. Mother’s Day — devoted to mothers of all definitions and descriptions — is about acknowledging the fullness of love in our lives. It is a day to pay attention to where we find love and nurture those connections. It is a day to explode any limitations we may place on our capacity to love. It is a day to invite our hearts and minds to a broader understanding of birth, light, healing, creation, and care. It is a day to gently hold the parts of ourselves that may still need to be loved more wholly and fiercely. It is a day to reflect, forgive, and shed — a mother’s love is big enough for all of that.

Mother can be a verb. Let me explain. Mother, as a verb, means we accept the responsibility to love one another. Plain and simple. Mother as a verb means we view all children as our children, whether we give birth to them or not. Mother as a verb means the fundamental truth that gendered definitions of love and care leave at least half of us out of the conversation. Mother as a verb means we understand that we all can — and must — mother. Mother as a verb means love letters, road trips, and goddesses.

What I Keep Learning

Mother’s Day Council From My Ultimate Teacher

Dear NEEAAReSt and Dearest,

Mother’s Day is always difficult for me. 

It often seems like a cocktail of grief and sadness with a twist of regret. A few years ago, on Mother’s Day, I started writing a weekly “letter” (blog post) to you, the young people in my family. They are my NEEAAReST and Dearest posts. Not having given birth to a child, understanding my path to motherhood is wide, expansive, and inclusive, and loving to write, I decided writing a weekly “letter” to you for a year was one place I could channel my motherly thoughts and musings and love. Once a week for 52 weeks, I wrote down a few things I wanted to say to you from the bottom of my heart. I covered everything from the first day of school to apologizing, competition, and much more. (I am not sure how many of them you all have read, but I hope you someday will.)

Read more here

Once in the 1940’s

We were alone one night on a long road in Montana. This was in Winter, a big night, far to the stars. — William Stafford

In the Winter of 1998, I drove across North Dakota and Idaho to live in Bellingham, Washington—a 2,300-mile journey across Winter. Triple A assured us (I traveled with my mother, brother, and two cats) that the northern route along Interstate 94 would be the best way, telling us that it would not get in our way even if it snowed. That trip was my first real lesson in elevation, snow tires and chains, and cold that makes ice burst.

Read more here.

I am the Aspara’s Daughter

I understand Shay’s connection with the Apsara through my connection with Ganesha. The Apsara is the embodiment of beauty, music, and womanhood. Her rhythm is that of a mother and muse. Beauty, music, and womanhood are fluid and complex. Beginnings and obstacles are fluid and complex, too. Stillness and knowing are required to find joy in it all. 

Read more here.

Paying Attention

Picture Studies by Adam Schoenberg

Once in the 1940’s by William Stafford

I am the Aspara’s Daughter, by Sokunthary Svay

Anne Lamott’s Mother’s Day essay

What is Mother’s Day?