I just found out that a dear friend, mentor, advisor and beautiful woman of God has breast cancer. The quick, take action, get it out masectomy kind, with hopefully no requirement for chemo or radiotherapy..

But she is away from friends, a large portion of her family and I am lonely and sad for her, as well as amazed by her brave face, even though I’m sure the private one is much less so.

It made me realise that I am older now than my mother was when she lost her own mother, and she is older than her mother ever grew. I am so grateful for all the things I get to learn from, with and alongside my mother.

Of all the things a woman is capable of, this still astounds me – that we can bring forth life, nurture, shape, love and wrestle with that independent life.. forcing it through to it’s own maturity and independence, only to crave the connection and dependency within which it was created. This is paradox and mystery, the creation of the Divine at work again within us.

I learn so much about life, being, spirituality, humanity, connectedness from my mother. She is integrated and connected. She’s inspiring and strong and frustrating, she is my mirror, my opposite, my magnet, my strength, my weakness, my precipice and my landing in so many ways.

She teaches me all she has and leaves me to wander, then calls me back into line with a swinging thud… my heart aches for her when I am absent or she is far off, I adore her presence and feel all at once that she gives me wings and grounds me to a halt… wherein her embrace is tender, sharp, full of clarity, grace and consternation.