Creative Rainbow Mother

Painting by Nicola Bird

It seems to me that the longer we tread the earth, the more we grow into our skins.

We came here to be and do all the things we have been and done and yet all these years there has been a tiny suspicion that I maybe should be doing something else. Living another woman’s life.

One of the reasons I believe that we do grow more into our skins as we age is that we have had more hours available for reading.

These words fell into my lap this morning in a beautiful book called ‘If Women Rose Rooted’ by Sharon Blackie, quoting the words of another author I’m currently obsessed with, Lucy H. Pearce (Author of The Rainbow Way: Cultivating Creativity in the Midst of Motherhood amongst others), referring to the work of Lynn Andrews, author of Jaguar Woman.

(I love the threads that bring one woman’s work to another’s to another’s. And now you to mine.)

‘The Creative Rainbow Mother is drawn by the ecstatic, and is often perceived, either in her own mind or those of others, as a bit of a misfit. She regularly needs to descend into her creative depths; she can’t live, otherwise. She has the energy of the seer, the priestess, the artist, the poet. That sort of woman, in order to be a mother effectively, inspires her children rather than doing everything for them and living through them. Whilst the Earth Mother finds immense comfort, safety and satisfaction in marriage, domesticity, growing food and children, and enjoys order around her, the Creative Rainbow Mother regularly feels the need to fly free. And if she can’t . . . well, the flip side of her is the Crazy Woman: depressed, unable to touch her power, tied, numb, self-medicating, addicted. Crazy Woman breaks out if we try to spend all our time out in the world, or serving others.’

Lucy’s words brought tears to my eyes.

If you’ve read any of my other posts, you’ll know that tears to my eyes always happens when I recognise who I am in something I have read.

It’s like a hidden part of your soul lights up and instead of you snuffing it out quickly in shame, it’s allowed to flicker and maybe even spark into full flame for the first time.

I AM the Creative Rainbow Mother. Maybe motherhood isn’t a dark art after all.

I have known for some time that a re-definition of a ‘good mother’ was required.

Because 20 years of trying to be what I thought one was (Earth Mother), I was failing to meet my own standards. I love the idea of being in the kitchen, slightly dusted in flour and baking bread for my children who flock to my kitchen table because of my kind words, my excellent cooking and words of advice they simply can’t wait to hear because I am so wise and have all the schedules pinned to the fridge that is full of broccoli.

But in our house the children can’t get to the kitchen table because it’s covered in compost, seed packets and sellotape and painting projects that are half-finished. Or human design maps, nozzles and icing from cake decorating, bits of paper from the cricut machine or paper flowers drying (depending on what my current obsession is). I can’t cook (except fish fingers) and my advice on what your north nodes are up to or how to build a website in a day are not much appreciated by my teenagers. Half the time you’ll find me at the gym, in the garden or at my office making, writing or swimming. Because the alternative is routine and wine. Thank God for husbands.

As I devoured Lucy’s words (and her book Creatrix: she who makes), I felt seen. That I have permission to be me. Again.

It’s a life-long lesson, this one.

A call to authenticity. Bringing all of who I am to the table. Literally.

We came here to be and do all the things we have been and done.

When the Creative Rainbow Mother is allowed to be in her full self-expression, I am STRONG. I create beauty, I bring life-force energy, I show my kids what satisfaction, fulfilment and happiness look like.

Not because they should be doing what I am doing (God forbid - imagine the mess!)

But because if I can be happy to be who I really am; that gives permission for them to be who they are.

Fuck the freshly baked bread rolls - they chose THIS mother to travel their life path with.

According to Human Design, our new year doesn’t start until 23 January. We are still in the final quarter of the year, a time for reflection, daydreaming and leaving behind what no longer serves us.

I am committed to the full expression of Creative Rainbow Mother. And I’ll leave the Earth Mothering to those who are born for it.