Sometimes the gift isn't what we really think it is...I'm not saying that my son's mean comment is a gift, but it did bear a gift with it. An opening. A lot of what I write about, what I contemplate and talk about is related to mothering, to belonging and care and lately, I've been finding it really hard to relate to anyone, let alone my own children. Belonging can be a deeply romanticised notion when it's not something we actively engage with. If we theorize and philosophise something, it often appears neater, better, easier... But practicing belonging comes with (in my experience)
Softening is hard work (heh...)The mothering I received was very tough. I'm not the softest mother a lot of the time, I have a lot of rules, hold my kids to high standards when it comes to the quality of food they eat, learning how to be punctual, being better, kinder, and the list goes on... This in and of itself took me a lot of imagination. I practiced this a lot in my own mind. And lately, I haven't been doing this enough. So I want to offer a Wonder Lab for Micro-Dreaming on December 21 for 21 days - would you like to join me? It's $14 (I'll share the Telegram link once you sign up)
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I love to talk about collapse, imagination and liberation, poeticizing the mundane + contemplating belonging/othering under modernity. I'm a Work that Reconnects facilitator, Offers + Needs Markets facilitator + an energy facilitator. I'm currently working on a collection of essays on post-colonial mothering.