A support story (you're not alone) site for mama's
Picture yourself as an innocent little being climbing up onto a park bench next to a woman who cares. She smells of all things warm and nourishing, a little spicy, a little sweet.
Her voice is soft, calm and reassuring. You can feel her heartbeat in steady rhythm, it pulls yours like a steam engine pulls the train behind it.
Her body is comfortable, inviting and familiar. One could fall dreamily asleep against it. There is provision, protection and solace for the soul. Dark dark skin envelops her echoing the beginning of time, actually the space before time. The place where all that is, was and ever will be exists simultaneously.
She is safety, she is Jamilamama. Mother of all mothers.
I met her once when I was 5 on a park bench in Central Park, New York. It was a holy moment, a recovery of knowing. A return to innocence.
May she grace and guide my words here and forever. May she come to guide you well if you wish. May you find nourishment, respite, reflection, companionship and resource along your unfolding journey of parenting.