Let's not sugarcoat it...
May you see your big, beautiful life as yours. Yours to write.
This week on Mothering Spirit
This week Neidy Hess shares the pain of feeling unwelcome in her own neighborhood:
“On a Wednesday, you introduced yourself. Let’s not sugarcoat it—the interaction was awkward. Words stumbled out. You struggled with my name, mispronouncing it not once, not twice, but three times. “My name’s hard,” I replied. But really, it’s two syllables. Tchaikovsky has three. Even so, it wasn’t the first time—my own husband took a week to learn my name correctly. I figured that’s all that it was.
But no sooner did you meet my monosyllabically-named white spouse than I began to question if our interaction was more than awkward. You poured out theories as if my husband understood a secret language I didn’t. What you said to my beloved about women and people of my color soured our meeting. Had the trees been trying to distract me from a danger down the block?
Could my own children feel free to run around without running into trouble? Would they be welcomed? Would your child introduce himself in an equally awkward manner? Or would he break the hearts of my children?”
Read the rest here: Dear Neighbor: I Know You Don’t Want Me Here.
Lauren Nizol gives us a blessing this week for recording those small moments of inspiration whenever and wherever we can:
“Bless you for the messy scribbles
on the backs of receipts,
half-used post-its,
and old grocery lists.
Bless you for the voice memo—
the notes you send yourself
when a flash of clarity arrives,
but you aren’t at a desk.
Bless you for continuing to write
while answering questions,
feeding little mouths breakfast,
folding mountains of laundry,
commuting to and from work.”
Read the whole prayer here: “A Blessing for When You Find Space to Write.”
For your reading
Below are a few additional prayers and essays to consider as we continue to hold space for Juneteenth and World Refugee Day.
Carrying Our Homes by Sarah Bahiraei
“Ordinary fathers shoulder the weight of bills, mortgages, and college tuition. My husband, though, is forced to sign his name with his fingerprint each month. He carries a refugee identification card made out of flimsy laminated cardstock. Too big to fit in a wallet, its inconvenient size symbolizes the precariousness of his status in this foriegn country. You are not wanted here. Your presence is temporary. It is an exasperating reminder of how quickly he could be ripped apart from his wife and child, both of whom hold more powerful passports.”
Read the rest here: Carrying Our Homes.
There is Space for Your Story by Rachel Marie Kang
“There is space for your story.
All the good,
and all the gold.
All the hard,
and all the hurt.
All the broken,
and all the beautiful.
There is room for the wreckage,
room for the wounds and for figuring out:
What went wrong,
and who, and how,
and what now?”
Read the rest here: “There is Space for Your Story.”
Want to write for us?
If any of these upcoming essay topics speak to you, we’d love to share your prayers:
Navigating work & motherhood
Longing for support or community in parenting
A prayer for child care providers
Sending kids off to school or work for the first time
Original prayers are accepted (previously published on your social media, blog, or other personal site are fine). We’ll give you full credit and copyright, and tag you on our social media when we publish. You can respond here with your prayer(s) or email them to newsletter@motheringspirit.com.
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