I AM MY MOTHER’S DAUGHTER

A Meditation on Mothers Day.

One evening I invited a small group of Korean healers and Qi Gong teachers into my studio. We studied Qi Gong for days and enjoyed good times healing and creating a beautiful energy through the weekend with the students and the teachers. This final meal was a celebration. We sat together on the floor. I knew that these practitioners were not vegetarians and learned so much from them, and wanted them to feel at home, so we brought Korean food into the studio for all to share. I remembered the times I told my mother I was a vegetarian for so many years, she would lovingly pass me the Brisket or the roast chicken and aromatic chicken soup and say “What do you mean, dear? Does that mean you don’t eat the brisket, or the soup?” She would do this year after year. When I looked into her eyes, I realized it was not to be mean, it was not to be pushy, she just would forget. Food was community, religion, and these special dishes came from her mother, my grandmother, the FAMOUS Clara: cook, baker, and kitchen genius. They took hours to prepare (I do not think my mother liked to cook all that much but she never let on – that would just have to be secret). After all, I was wearing a turban and she would always forget what that turban was all about as well. When she would ask for the hundredth time, I sometimes would reply to her, “you know, I can’t remember myself!” And smile.

After all the Korean food was laid out, it was time to sit and share the dinner. Before anybody else sat down, the lead teacher present, said “Hari, please sit down first. You are the eldest here, the wisest, and we honor you.  In each generation the ancestors pass down the wisdom to the younger ones. You may not always see it, but it is there in everyone, realized or not.  Hari is here, and sharing the wisdom of her ancestors. Thank you for welcoming us into your home,” I had never been treated quite that way. I was so deeply touched by the authenticity of the moment. I felt my ancestors; I am my Mother’s Daughter.

When my mother, the beautiful and kind Gloria, would pass me the brisket or the chicken soup every year, I would explain that, “no, I do not eat brisket or chicken soup.” But, I also knew that there was a higher vibration of love in her voice and her food, and I said “but your chicken soup and your brisket is special.” Mom would smile and be so happy in that moment.  I took small pieces and allowed myself to enjoy her love. I loved enjoying my mothers love. It was not hard to enjoy. She was so full of it and so ready to give it in such apparent innocence.

One day while visiting my mother and father with a full house of visitors, and during a mid-day lull in activities (between meals) I had a spiritual discussion with a relative. I enjoy a good debate and even enjoy taking on the belief of something I totally disagree with just to see what it feels like.  During the discussion, I could not defend myself. I had no words to simply state that it made me happy to stare at the stars. I had a twinkle in my third eye, knowing there is no way anyone can win this. Religion was no more than Love to me, a concept that relative could not relate to. My mother came into the room. She said, “Leave her alone, it doesn’t matter, let her believe what she believes, there’s no problem here!” With that statement of the queen of the house, it was over. The conversation simply disappeared. That is how I remember it. She came right in the room and waved her queen’s wand and everything was ok. There was nothing more to say.

A woman’s power, the power of the mother, the power of the Divine Feminine, is everywhere. The ticket to that power is in your awareness, your sensitivity, and your willingness to listen. The Divine Feminine is rising. My mother is not here to see it. When she was alive she struggled with the challenges of domineering men and situations. I could see it. I struggled with her. I did what I could. It was never enough I know. She did good by me. She let me fly and wear a turban, and practice every religion without judgement or even the blink of an eye.

When I started wearing the turban she would warn me. “Dear, maybe wearing the turban tonight is not the best idea – you know so and so, he could be a difficult one to deal with.” It was subtle warning. I would wear it she knew, but she would warn me anyway. She was always right. ALWAYS.  The Divine Feminine protects through wisdom. The compassion super power is always lit up, and the tolerance is always lit up, and the sensory system that warns of any kind if danger or block in the way is ALWAYS lit.

Thank you Gloria, my mom. As I age, I see more and more of your Divine Feminine and that, even under challenge, you would sneak that wisdom right out there, in your eyes, in your word, in your food. I wonder, did you always know I was a vegetarian and that you were just keeping a special part of me and you free from every kind of limit? I like that story I just made up. I am going with that. I see more wisdom and know you more deeply as I myself grow older.

To all women, thank you for bringing such divine mother wisdom to this earth. I am so happy to be part of this Divine Feminine energy, and happy to be here with all of you. Have a beautiful Mother’s Day everyone!

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