mother's day

One of my clients uses the term “child of my heart”. I’ve used the term “goddesschild”. Both sound saccharine, a bit goofy, but both also point out the lack of good language we have to describe the particularness of some relationships. Mother’s Day is tomorrow, and today has been a day the children I am related to not by blood, but by spirit, have been in my thoughts. These are children who are kin, and who I feel a guardianship that is not anything to do with legal, but purely natural and perhaps karmic law.

Lyra left on Thursday to show her portfolio to a Chicago art school. She left me a voice mail message on Wednesday, hoping I could see her finished portfolio before she left. Our schedules didn’t mesh, and I was on pins and needles waiting to hear what happened. Yesterday I found out she was admitted. I look forward to her triumphant return, and I know that we’ll soon be sitting together on my couch, going over her artwork. Just imagining the sound of her excited voice makes me smile.

My other goddessdaughter is a high school junior in an art intensive called Oxbow. Talking to her mother yesterday, I found out about the piece she is preparing for her final art project. Already an incredible conceptual artist, besides an accomplished poet, Hazel’s digging a six feet deep hole and placing at the bottom a model of a modern city. It’s a piece on climate change and theories of apocalypse, and a big part of the piece is the experience of digging the hole. I laughed and laughed talking to her mom, imagining my earnest goddessdaughter digging that hole. I can’t wait to hear the poetry this will give birth to!

Last night my son’s best friend for the past eleven years spent the night. Together we watched the latest movie version of Midsummer’s Night’s Dream, which they both will be doing in the next few weeks for their eighth grade play. My son is playing Snout, and Harris has the role of Oberon, the Fairy King. Nothing could be more perfect.

Many times I’ve had the feeling that Hazel and Harris found me, that they had it all set up coming into this world to have a magical mentor waiting. Perhaps Lyra did too, but in her case, with her own mom a witch, she had the magical mentoring already covered. All come from loving homes, so my “adopting” them has nothing to do with emotional dismissal by their birth parents, but I know that for all of them, our relationship is important and even vital. I serve an important purpose in all their lives. I’m thankful that Harris and Hazel’s parents are simply bemused at the altars in their kid’s rooms, and feel fine about both of them learning the tarot from me at such young ages. In all my questioning of my spiritual path, I know that the steps taken with these children have been the right ones.

Walking into the disheveled living room this morning with my boys of both body and spirit sprawled out on the couches sound asleep, I found myself leaking some tears. What a mystery it is, these connections! I was lucky enough to be given one boy to raise as my own, the perfect child for me, and graced by being spiritual kin to this other. And with two fabulous goddessdaughters to boot!!! Could a cup be more full?