Surrender to the shorelines. Merging from Maiden to Mother

I used to come to these shorelines (pictured here) when the girls were babies and I was desperate for relief from one of my many motherhood crisis’. 

As soon as I stepped foot onto the sand, the load of what I was carrying dispersed into the never ending shoreline, which had the capacity to hold more than I could. The girls would come with me to the beach and with the expansive energy upon us and within us, we would all disappear into our own worlds. I was still aware of my babies playing curiously in the sand but, I could finally feel a peaceful space between us. From having my babes attached at the breast almost constantly and our warm cosy co-sleeping nights, it was rare for me to feel alone. 

In truth, my fear of aloneness drove me to have children early. I unknowingly manifested the Mother in me to come into the light while I was still navigating how to be a young woman.

With the Maiden and Mother both enlivened within me in my early 20’s, ebbing and flowing, resisting and leaning in, they eventually began to merge. I learnt the art of surrender in that intense period of my life and I learnt that if we don’t eventually surrender to what is upon us, it will break us instead.

I was still a child myself in someways, still carrying around the ghost of my wounded inner ‘little Claire’ who continued to haunt me well into my 20’s. Her haunting was in truth, a reminder to stop running from her and turn into the inevitable resolution awaiting within. ‘Little Claire’ begged for attention while I begged for relief from her unrelenting needs. I wanted to feel peace, but first I had to surrender into the chaos. I was in essence parenting my own inner child at the same time as my own.

Although I was never physically alone, the early parts of Motherhood were the most lonely I had ever felt in my life. The loneliness brought a dark space to my inner world, where all the thoughts I had run from had space to now creep back in uninvited. There was now a space of nothingness where I began to see that the uninvited thoughts, no matter how unfounded, revealed an explicit vision of me in the light that I could no longer deny…

Motherhood gifted me the ability to vividly see all the debris from my past. Before children, I was flippant and I would run if things became uncomfortable. During my motherhood growth I hesitantly learnt the meaning of the word “anchor”. I was forced to anchor to the deepest love I had ever known possible AND the deepest pain of the past I had ever known was possible. It was in the intensity of this almost violent polarity, that I was reborn. I was beginning to burn away what was left in the wake of my wounding and when I let go, I thrived.

Being back on these shorelines again today, I meet with the woman who died and rose anew all those years ago. I feel as if we are meeting again with the ocean as our witness, uniting in the spirit of what was then and what is now. We are merging, reuniting while anchored, integrated and in love with life once more.

* This blog was first published on Claire's substack.