Transcript for May 10, 2009 by Ian Lawton

A pregnant woman boards a bus. After taking a seat, she notices a man smiling at her. She feels self-conscious and changes her seat, but he seems even more amused.

She moves a third time, and he starts to giggle. On her fourth move, he bursts into hysterical laughter.

They both get off the bus at the next stop. The pregnant woman is furious and demands an explanation. “What exactly is so funny?”

”I’m sorry, ma’am,” replies the giggling man. “But I couldn’t help noticing you’re pregnant, and when you first sat down, you sat under an advertisement which read ‘Coming Soon: Million Dollar Baby.’ Then you moved and sat under an ad that read ‘Sloan’s Liniments Remove Swelling.’ Then you moved under a deodorant advertisement which read ‘William’s Stick Did the Trick.’ And I just couldn’t hold it in any longer when you moved a fourth time and sat under a tire advertisement which read ‘Dunlop Rubber Would Have Prevented This Accident.’”

I’m a big advocate for safe sex, but I’m not a fan of safe sermons. Safe sermons are just plain boring. I want to take a risk and speak about motherhood from a masculine perspective. This is probably unwise, as the general rule is “no uterus, no opinion.” My only right to an opinion is that I have had a front row seat watching an amazing Mom in action for 15 years now.

It all began in 1994 with my frantic call to the hospital. “My wife is pregnant and her contractions are only two minutes apart!” I said.

”Is this her first child?” the doctor asked.

”No!” I shouted back. “I am her husband!”

Well, we made it to the hospital fine. Then many hours later in the delivery room, it happened. Delivery doesn’t seem like an accurate word for what went down in that room. Delivery is what happens when your pizza arrives; within 30 minutes or no charge. This was altogether unlike welcoming a pizza boy at the door. Other words come to mind, but not delivery; words like intense, nerve-wracking, thrilling, and heart wrenching. There is screaming, laughter and tears all within the same breath, then the elation of a little human person in your arms.

I had the honor of cutting the chord. Now that was a heart stopping thing to do. It was hard to believe the nurse who said that it wouldn’t hurt either mother or child. I mean it was part of both of them. How could it not hurt? It made me a little squeamish. I asked if we could just leave them attached. It seemed safer, what with kids running off and all. Couldn’t we just raise him attached?

In all seriousness, being present for the birth of my three children is without doubt the greatest privilege and joy of my life. Words can’t accurately describe the elation of partnering the creation of new life. My heart danced with pride at the sight of Meg; blissfully exhausted. I can only imagine the feeling for a mother in that moment. It seems to me that mothers have an insight into some of the mysteries of life because of this experience, including a profound appreciation for the Source of Life…… by any name. These insights are universal truths that maybe mothers can help us all to understand.

Before I turn to these insights, let me acknowledge that Mothers Day is a difficult day for many people and for many reasons. I honor those for whom motherhood was unwelcome. I honor those for whom motherhood has not been possible. I honor those who are struggling to become pregnant. I honor those who have lost children or mothers. I honor step mothers and aunts, and grandmothers and honorary mothers. I honor those who have difficult or unresolved relationships with mothers or children. My thoughts will attempt to say something that touches all situations.

Dancing with the Source of Life

Mother’s Day is a great day to celebrate the divine feminine. The divine feminine is not intervention from above, but movement from within. Think of the divine feminine as the counter part to the zero tolerance God that many of us have gladly left behind; the God of unrealistic standards, harsh judgment and paralyzing guilt. The only requirement of the divine feminine is that you show up to the dance.

Think of the divine feminine as improvisation as opposed to the carefully planned script of the zero tolerance God. The divine feminine is free form drawing rather than paint by numbers. The divine feminine is free style dancing rather than a tightly choreographed Waltz. She is open and flexible. Dancing is a nice way to describe the divine feminine; a beautiful image for joyful life that is open to the rhythm and flow of circumstance.

In Mountain Birthday Anne Lamott writes, “Neitzsche said that he could only believe in a God who would dance, and I feel the same way: not Jesus as John Travolta but Jesus as Judith Jamison, the great black dancer with Alvin Ailey, a shining, long-limbed, elegant crane”

Our Goddess is not like the gods of men.

She doesn’t compel you to worship her.

She only invites you to the dance.

Should you choose not to come,

Your only punishment is your absence.
- Diana Rivers

What sort of dancing do you think of when you imagine the divine feminine? I think of belly dancing.

Belly dancing has a special connection to childbirth. From as early as 13000 years ago, certainly in Egyptian communities 5000 years ago, women have danced to celebrate the mystery of childbirth. Belly dancing invites you to surrender to the rhythm within, and breathe with the instinctive flow of creation and new life.

Holding On and Letting Go

The other sensual aspect to belly dancing is loose clothing. In the Susan Jeffer’s book called End the Struggle and Dance with Life, an old woman is asked why she is always cheerful. Her answer is beautiful. “Well, I wear this world just as a loose garment.”

To wear the world as a loose garment means to embrace life with passion, but neither to smother it, nor be smothered by it. Wearing the world as a loose garment speaks of being at ease with what lies beneath, accepting life is it evolves, but not expecting it to stay the same.

Wearing the world as a loose garment is a metaphor for holding the balance between embrace and detachment, intimacy and autonomy, the present moment and impermanence.

From the moment the cord is cut, mothers learn the delicate balance of holding on and letting go. It’s a profound spiritual truth.

Your belief in God holds some similar balance.

Sri Ramakrishna tells the story of an Indian temple where God is worshipped as Mother. She is represented by a large stone image. One day an old monk who used a cane came into the temple. Approaching the altar he said, speaking aloud to God, “Mother, you are said to be God; tell me the truth: are you solid like stone? Or are you formless, indescribable and impossible to touch?”



”Take your cane,” the monk heard a soft voice saying, “and strike my body on the left side.” He did, and the cane hit the stone with a clack. “Now strike me from the other side,” She said. When the cane reached the sculpture it passed right through it as if it were air.

The monk had discovered the lesson of the loose garment. The Source of life and love is both tangible and concrete like a new born baby or an act of kindness, and it’s also mysterious and fluid like a new realization or a felt connection. Life is both something you can hold onto with passion, and also something that cannot be fully grasped or described. The lesson of motherhood that is a profound spiritual truth for all of us is to balance holding on to life, and also letting go so that you are free for new and evolving experience.

Learning to Forgive an Imperfect World

Being a mother is sometimes hard and often thankless. It’s full of disappointments and lost dreams. Does that sound familiar? Life isn’t perfect. Thankfully we aren’t bound by a God who expects perfection. The divine feminine accepts imperfection, loves imperfection, and seeks only your presence in the dance and the struggle.

This week, Bristol Palin has been in the spotlight for her double take on abstinence. She no longer thinks that abstinence is unrealistic. Now she is an ambassador for abstinence. I heard the mantra this week, “abstinence makes the heart grow fonder”. The notion of abstinence often goes hand in hand with a zero tolerance God; absolute standards, with strict consequences for failure. That’s just not the way the world works. I suspect the divine feminine is better represented by the phrase harm minimization than zero tolerance. It’s a perspective that many mothers take over time.

Some women become mothers by accident, some by choice, a few by social pressure, and some by habit. The experience of being a mother is less than perfect for many mothers. Many women become mothers to children who are various shades of normal. These families learn to love the imperfection of life. Again, mothers learn profound spiritual truths about acceptance, forgiveness and going with the flow of life.

Birthing a New You

Marianne Williamson said- “When a woman gives birth, two are born; a baby from the womb of its mother and a woman from the womb of her former existence.”

Being a mother, in all its humanity, joy and frustration, is ultimately a celebration of a new you. You will never be the same after all this pain, all this loving, all this letting go. In each step on the path of motherhood, you are discovering the delight of awakening to the divine feminine who dances in and through you.

As a mother, you know what it is to feel such intense passion for your creation that you would stop at nothing to end your child’s suffering. As a mother, you know forgiveness like no other. As a mother, you celebrate the achievements of your child because you know better than others the painful path that often led to success.

Lastly, mothers know how changeable life is. You know what it is to shift your roles and relationships with your kids. This is such a profound lesson in impermanence.

My grandmother, my Mom’s Mom, died in 1994. At the time, Meg was full of the life of our first child. After the funeral for my grandma, my mother came up to Meg and I. She placed her hand on Meg’s pregnant stomach and said, “As one life passes, another begins.” I have never forgotten that moment as new life merged with transitioning life, four generations crossed paths for just a few precious moments.

Mother or not, you are birthing new life each and every day. Your new creations and achievements are dear to you like children. May you dance in life, surrendering to the rhythm of the Source of life. May you cut the cords that need to be cut, hold tight where appropriate and be wise to know the difference. May you let go, not palms down but palms up so that what you release can fly free. May you know, amidst all the disappointment and imperfection, that life has a unity even if you don’t always feel or understand that unity. All things are evolving as they need to, and you are learning what you need to learn. You are part of divine unity that dances free and unrestrained in all things at all times. All you need to do is let go and start moving. I bow to all mothers. I bow to all who give birth to life in every thought, word and action. Divine mother in me greets divine mother in you.

Namaste.