I had no idea that giving birth to my sons would have me give birth to all the wounds I had thought were "over." But that was only in my mind. The amount of egoic destruction I had to endure as a home birthing, (extended) breastfeeding, co-sleeping, homeschooling mama was a profound spiritual path that I am only now shifting into a new phase of.
I had many regrets about my parenting, but also have learned to embrace that a mother holds it all and forgives. And so I forgive myself and strive to stay on the path of learning and grace.
Thank you for sharing this. Thank you for being. Just being.
My older son is 18 and on his way to work at a camp and then is going to college. My younger son is 12 and doing more with is father these days and is very independent.
I suddenly realized that I am a mother bird looking at her next saying... Oh! It is kinda of empty. But when I read your words I am reminded that I can fly now. I can fly:)
Oh, yes. The ache of the nest shifting—and the quiet thrill of wings remembering they were made to fly.
This is such a tender threshold: not the end of mothering, but a new beginning of becoming. You’ve done the sacred work of raising—and now, just as you nurtured their flight, life is gently calling you to your own.
You can fly. You are flying. Thank you for this beautiful reminder. 🕊️💛
"Spiritual practice and feminist training did not offer me immunity from systems of harm. I still want an apology—justice for women’s bodies—this is my fire." << resonating so much with this. ♥️
Thank you for reading Michele. “Stay, repair, and forgive” a universal inheritance, whether it’s through mothering, caregiving, friendship, or simply surviving.
It’s the quiet power we carry forward, often without fanfare—but it changes everything.
Thank you for naming it with such clarity. 💛 I appreciate you.
This is such a powerful essay. I appreciate you allowing us to get glimpses of your past. Being so vulnerable is brave.
"Motherhood is more than a biological role. It is a relationship of sacrifice and gift. An ancestral memory that whispers from generations past..." I love that. We are deeply connected to the women of our past and they do live on within us. Those whispers are there, even if we don't hear them or pay attention.
And this: "When we lose our way in the world, it's often the soul that's gone missing." Deeply insightful.
I'll have to investigate your memoir. Writing one is quite the process, isn't it? Another sort of birthing. I wrote one as well, and I'm thrilled Jeannie has one soon ready for launch.
Happy Mother's Day! The world is finally starting to recognize that anyone who loves and nurtures is mothering, whether she has biological children or not. All of us together, become stronger and better mothers.
So much resonated with me. The reclaiming. The birthing as as Nancy wrote, "Motherhood is more than a biological role. It is a relationship of sacrifice and gift. An ancestral memory that whispers from generations past..." I love that. "
I am the daughter of three generations of abuse survivors on my mothers side. Extreme physical and sexual. I was not sexually abused. My mother saved me from that, but the whispers. The survival mechanisms. The pain they carried.
And my father? He was severely beaten as a child. He passed on his whispered of justified physical abuse. He no longer talks to me, because I said no. I hold this mother in me who did this for her inner child.
What else? I was a drunk. And I was also gifted a shaman which seemed radon back then, but I see now as the universe sending me a life vest. And I took it and still take it through my yoga a poetry practice.
Your words are a river—carrying sorrow, resilience, and hard-won grace.
The way you name the whispers—the inherited pain, the ancestral survival strategies—is powerful. There’s something sacred in the clarity with which you honor what was passed down, and what you chose to stop. Saying no to the harm, and yes to your inner child—that is mothering in its fiercest, most essential form.
And then the shaman. The life vest. The poetry. The yoga. The ways you keep choosing life, again and again. That, too, is a ceremony for life.
Your voice carries the kind of beauty that comes from burning through the dark and still offering light. I’m deeply moved. Thank you for letting your story breathe here.
I am so glad I scrolled back to look for something to find your quote. Thank you. Your words and the energy behind your words are the oasis upon which I sit for a moment before I continue my journey. Love and light to you.
Hello Nancy, Thank you for reading and this beautiful reflection.
Your words feel like a gentle hand on the shoulder—steady, kind, and deeply seen.
Yes, writing a memoir is its own kind of birthing—messy, holy, and not linear. I’m moved to know you’ve walked that path too. The stories we choose to shape, the truths we dare to voice—they become part of that ancestral whisper you mentioned. We carry it forward.
I love what you said about the evolving recognition of mothering in all its forms. Anyone who loves and nurtures is mothering. That truth is long overdue, your voice affirms it gracefully and strongly.
Happy Mother’s Day to you too—thank you for reading, witnessing, and walking this path with such heart. 💛 I appreciate you.
Thank you for showing me what it is to sing a full song- to pick up where our mothers and grandmothers left off. This gives me so much comfort today. So much inspiration. What a beautiful, deep, and wise piece!! xoxo
Wow, I feel the rawness of your emotions as I read this for the third time — so much resonates as I see similarities with my own story and many of the women I know; the layers of ‘unworthiness’ reinforced in a patriarchal society not fit for any of us. Second wave feminism was also a salve for me.
Your soul reading — amazing. The wisdom of the ancestral line of women, are too so much a part of my recovery and healing; drawing on their strengths to shift the energetic patterns around those behaviours, theirs and ours, that haven’t served us. Acceptance and surrender, with love.
“Contrary to crusty patriarchal religious dogma, everybody is sacred, equal, and meant to live with holy meaning.”
Yes, when we are lost we have forgotten we are a soul, and I love how she waits patiently for us, and in your sacred role as mother you are bringing your circle of women close, so very powerful and beautiful. And in that space we meet our soul’s calling.
What a wonderful read to wake up to. Thank you. And thank you also, for the mention. Happy Mother’s Day 🥰 🙏 💐
Thank you for this, sister—your words hold so much soul and hard-won wisdom.
Yes… the layers of unworthiness, the ache of forgetting, the weight of patterns we didn’t choose but carried anyway. And then—second wave feminism, ancestral knowing, sacred remembrance—all as salve, as spark, as the slow undoing.
I feel you beside me in this circle of women, reclaiming what was never truly lost—only buried.
Your line “Acceptance and surrender, with love” holds it all.
Thank you for reading so fully, so many times, and for walking this path with tenderness and clarity.
We are remembering together.
And I’m so glad you’re here. 💐💛🙏 and for restacking. I appreciate this so much, it makes me want to dance to have your company.
Well, we must be soul sisters given you are the salty crone and I am the fairy crone (it's in my profile) 🤣 🙏 💜 💚 🤍
What a journey we are all having and sharing — what a women's circle of combined love, energy and power and wisdom. I can feel it running through my body as we all reach out and grab each other's hands. Yes, it was only ever buried. No wonder the patriarchy burnt women; they are scared of the power we yield — and here we are.
Tears of gratitude spill here, the comfort that briny tears bring — heart's expression. Let's dance 🥰
Fairy Crone, meet your salty sister in soul and sass! 🧂🧚♀️💃
Yes—this circle, this power, this memory returning through our bodies like a drumbeat. I feel it too. What a reunion of women who never truly left… just waited for the time to rise again.
Tears, salt, mess, and joy—all sacred.
Let’s keep dancing in this remembering, hand in hand.
We are what they feared—and what the world now needs.
What a time of reckoning and accumulating our lived experience as mature women. I look forward to your continued rising.
This is such a raw, beautiful and heartfelt tribute to your experience of motherhood, which is unique and universal at the same time. My jaws dropped when reading about what the psychic in New York said to you, and how that shaped your life subsequently. You have shown the world the tremendous gifts you've carried with you from birth. I can see the light in your eyes still shining bright. Keep shining!
Thank you for reading. Your words are like sunlight through the trees—warming, affirming, and deeply seen.
Yes, that moment with the psychic cracked something open in me. I didn’t know it then, but her words planted the seed of everything that followed.
Thank you for witnessing this path, for feeling the universal inside the personal, and for reminding me light still shines. I feel yours too, sister. Keep glowing. 💛✨
Prajna, I'm honored to be invited to witness your path, and to embrace the complexities and magic of your being, which you so courageously hold together. Holding you in warm regard. 💕🤗
This was a beautiful read. Thank you for pouring your heart and soul into this piece. It really made me reflect on my own mothering journey and mother line healing journey. 💚
Kelli, thank you so much for reading with such an open heart. 💚
It means everything to know this piece stirred reflection on your mothering and motherline healing journey. That’s the work, isn’t it—layered, ongoing, sacred.
We definitely finish her song. And motherhood is my dharma for sure. I became a mom at 16, a grandma at 34. I have 9 grandkids and 6 great grandkids. What a ride! And I did it all outside the lines. Thanks for a great piece, Prajna!
Your path is extraordinary—six great-grandkids and a life lived outside the lines — yes … that’s a legacy of fierce love and lived experience that gives you the fire, soul strength, and wisdom harvested from life.
Yes, we do finish her song—sometimes with our own off-beat rhythm, sometimes with a full chorus. Never inside the lines.
You always touch my soul and heart when you write about your life. Your early years are a reflection of my own only with minor differences. I was lucky that the path I wound up on was not as sad as yours, but had its share of harm hurt and regrets. Motherhood completely changed me. Not overnight but over years of dealing with some heartbreaking experiences I slowly changed and wisdom grew within me after each decade passed. Your spiritual path in nature, and the profound strength born into women is enlightening. I am not the exact same way, but I comprehend it and also empathize with much of your feelings. You are you —in every sense of the words. and you have strength beyond many. Your path in life has made you stand out as extraordinary. You did the work needed to make you resilient. In my own way of looking at life I see you not only as part of a whole but in the center of it, leading others to find the path you chose for your own healing and becoming. You are admirable. Sharing so much of who you were and who you are today exposes your core and we are so very fortunate to be allowed to journey along side you. Thank you for this inspiration to reflect on my own experiences with mothers and the path I took to be the best mother I could finally manage to be. Happy Mother’s Day to you and to all the mothers of every kind reading your post.
To be seen like this—through the lens of your own lived wisdom and open heart—is such a gift. I feel the soul-kinship in what you’ve shared. Our paths, while uniquely shaped, have crossed so many of the same thresholds: early harm, the slow reshaping through motherhood, the long, decade-by-decade unfolding of strength and insight.
Your reflection reminds me that healing is never solitary—it radiates through time and into the lives of others, as yours does. You, too, are in the center of the whole, offering presence, truth, and hard-earned grace.
Thank you for walking this journey alongside me. And thank you for allowing my story to awaken your own reflections on mothering, womanhood, and becoming.
Wishing you a deep and tender Mother’s Day, Kathy. You are part of this sacred circle.
“When we lose our way in the world, it’s often the soul that’s gone missing. Soul is the quiet pulse of life that weaves body and spirit.” Beautiful, Prajna. A wonderful essay. So powerful.
“When we lose our way in the world, it’s often the soul that’s gone missing. Soul is the quiet pulse of life that weaves body and spirit.”
I’m so touched that these words found their way to you. I know you’re moving through deep loss—and to have you here, receiving and reflecting, means more than I can say.
Your soul carries, even in sorrow. Especially in sorrow. 💛
Wow! Your words carry such immense depth, honesty and raw power - thank you so much Prajna for sharing these profound reflections. The way you intertwine personal experience with the larger forces of patriarchy, ancestry, soul and transformation is deeply moving and deeply resonant. Your journey speaks of resilience, resistance and the sacred act of reclaiming one’s own life and voice.
The echoes of your past, the struggles, triumphs, light and shadow, reveal a spiralling path carved by the deepest pain and the deepest joy. The courage of your mother, those scars of silence, your awakening through writing - every page, chapter of your 'book' is being woven into something deeply personal, yet universally significant. What an immense calling motherhood has been for you.
You remind me that healing is complex, that the layers of identity - daughter, mother, grandmother, woman, soul - are constantly evolving. The act of writing as ritual, of honouring the truths carried within, is such a beautiful testament to how stories rise when they are meant to. Thanks once again for sharing these fierce, wild woman awakenings, with such tenderness, wisdom and power. ❤️🙏
Your words come out of lived experience (I can tell) and move through me like a blessing.
Thank you for this deeply attuned reflection—for seeing the spiral path, the silence and the roar, the ache and the reclaiming. Your language holds the sacredness of it all: resilience, resistance, ritual, return.
Yes—healing is layered, identity fluid, and stories do rise when they’re meant to.
Your witness is a gift, and your own liberated voice, radiant and wise, keeps me company on this winding road.
Potent writing @Prajna, the potency of Divine Motherhood is too my path, everything has collapsed in her potency and fire (honey and ash the body of work SHE (Great Mother ) gifted me through my book!!!) everything has to become ashes in this purifying descent 🙇♀️ YES ancestors live well inside ! Only today I freed my grandmother - from the story of betrayal- potent potent medicine this work - and I resisted motherhood with all my mighty ( not to begin with I feel in love with my first boy and then the descend begun clearing all ancestral lines !)the rest s history! I love your fierce mama love
Dear Maria, your response pulses with fire and truth.
Honey and ash—yes. That’s the body of the Great Mother, the descent, the clearing, the becoming. I feel your words like a drumbeat.
What power to free your grandmother from the story of betrayal—that is the medicine we carry, and the healing we offer backward and forward through time.
I see your fierce mama love. I feel it.
We walk the same scorched and sacred ground. Thank you for bringing your voice to this song. 🙇♀️🔥❤️ and thanks so much for the restack.
Prajna, this hit me in the core: "A woman's body is our first environment." Stunning. I mean, breathtaking. And you went so deep in so many directions surrounding motherhood and the expectations placed upon women and what it means to mother. I think about this all the time, because these are thematic threads in my memoir.
Thank you so much for those seven words. Thank you for thinking of me and I remember you in my heart of hearts this Mother's Day weekend, too.
Jeanine… Thank you! Your words go straight to my heart.
To know that line—“A woman’s body is our first environment”—landed with such force means everything. I felt it as a truth too big to hold when it first came through, and I’m so grateful it touched you.
Your memoir is weaving those same threads, and I can feel the power in your voice already—truth-telling, nuanced, essential.
Thank you for remembering me this Mother’s Day. I hold you just as close. Heart of hearts, sister. 💛🌿
Thank you for restacking. I look forward to your memoir!
Oh, Prajna, receiving this response from you feels so life-affirming! I was just thinking about my memoir again today and it hasn't yet found a home, so I'm waiting. I know it's ready.
So much of it involves me trying to hold sacred space for both myself and my children - not choosing one or the other, but trying to make a way for all of us to find shelter in this world, together.
Knowing that you feel a connection to my story means everything. Sending you love. 💓
Such a powerful story. I love learning more about your soul’s path. It is inspiring.
Hi Amy, thank you so much for reading. I’m glad that you are here and we receive inspiration from each other. 🔥🌹🕊️
I had no idea that giving birth to my sons would have me give birth to all the wounds I had thought were "over." But that was only in my mind. The amount of egoic destruction I had to endure as a home birthing, (extended) breastfeeding, co-sleeping, homeschooling mama was a profound spiritual path that I am only now shifting into a new phase of.
I had many regrets about my parenting, but also have learned to embrace that a mother holds it all and forgives. And so I forgive myself and strive to stay on the path of learning and grace.
Thank you for sharing this. Thank you for being. Just being.
Dear Corie,
I cherish every word of your vulnerability. What a path mothering is and surely has been for you.
You are in a new phase?
Isn’t it true that we learn much more through what we consider a failure than a success.
I have learned not to turn away from what I may have called a mistake.
That is where the gold is, the deepest nourishment for our soul to feel alive .
Thank you so much for being here and sharing your wisdom.
My older son is 18 and on his way to work at a camp and then is going to college. My younger son is 12 and doing more with is father these days and is very independent.
I suddenly realized that I am a mother bird looking at her next saying... Oh! It is kinda of empty. But when I read your words I am reminded that I can fly now. I can fly:)
Oh, yes. The ache of the nest shifting—and the quiet thrill of wings remembering they were made to fly.
This is such a tender threshold: not the end of mothering, but a new beginning of becoming. You’ve done the sacred work of raising—and now, just as you nurtured their flight, life is gently calling you to your own.
You can fly. You are flying. Thank you for this beautiful reminder. 🕊️💛
so beautiful. Thank you. 🙏🏾
"Spiritual practice and feminist training did not offer me immunity from systems of harm. I still want an apology—justice for women’s bodies—this is my fire." << resonating so much with this. ♥️
Hello Genevieve
Thank you so much for stopping by and reading
I appreciate your resonance.
🧡💚🧡
I love this and you
Awww. Thank you, dear sweet Abby
Yes, the power in “stay, repair, and forgive” is one we all are gifted whether from parenting or another aspect of life.
Thank you for reading Michele. “Stay, repair, and forgive” a universal inheritance, whether it’s through mothering, caregiving, friendship, or simply surviving.
It’s the quiet power we carry forward, often without fanfare—but it changes everything.
Thank you for naming it with such clarity. 💛 I appreciate you.
Hi Prajna,
This is such a powerful essay. I appreciate you allowing us to get glimpses of your past. Being so vulnerable is brave.
"Motherhood is more than a biological role. It is a relationship of sacrifice and gift. An ancestral memory that whispers from generations past..." I love that. We are deeply connected to the women of our past and they do live on within us. Those whispers are there, even if we don't hear them or pay attention.
And this: "When we lose our way in the world, it's often the soul that's gone missing." Deeply insightful.
I'll have to investigate your memoir. Writing one is quite the process, isn't it? Another sort of birthing. I wrote one as well, and I'm thrilled Jeannie has one soon ready for launch.
Happy Mother's Day! The world is finally starting to recognize that anyone who loves and nurtures is mothering, whether she has biological children or not. All of us together, become stronger and better mothers.
Thank you for the beautiful essay.
It is profound.
Hello Corie,
Thank you so much for reading. I am so curious as to what resonates with you.
So much resonated with me. The reclaiming. The birthing as as Nancy wrote, "Motherhood is more than a biological role. It is a relationship of sacrifice and gift. An ancestral memory that whispers from generations past..." I love that. "
I am the daughter of three generations of abuse survivors on my mothers side. Extreme physical and sexual. I was not sexually abused. My mother saved me from that, but the whispers. The survival mechanisms. The pain they carried.
And my father? He was severely beaten as a child. He passed on his whispered of justified physical abuse. He no longer talks to me, because I said no. I hold this mother in me who did this for her inner child.
What else? I was a drunk. And I was also gifted a shaman which seemed radon back then, but I see now as the universe sending me a life vest. And I took it and still take it through my yoga a poetry practice.
And your writing... wow. Just beautiful!
Dear Corie,
Your words are a river—carrying sorrow, resilience, and hard-won grace.
The way you name the whispers—the inherited pain, the ancestral survival strategies—is powerful. There’s something sacred in the clarity with which you honor what was passed down, and what you chose to stop. Saying no to the harm, and yes to your inner child—that is mothering in its fiercest, most essential form.
And then the shaman. The life vest. The poetry. The yoga. The ways you keep choosing life, again and again. That, too, is a ceremony for life.
Your voice carries the kind of beauty that comes from burning through the dark and still offering light. I’m deeply moved. Thank you for letting your story breathe here.
With love, P
I am so glad I scrolled back to look for something to find your quote. Thank you. Your words and the energy behind your words are the oasis upon which I sit for a moment before I continue my journey. Love and light to you.
Thank you for holding my story here. Sending you love and light, fellow fierce mama.
Hello Nancy, Thank you for reading and this beautiful reflection.
Your words feel like a gentle hand on the shoulder—steady, kind, and deeply seen.
Yes, writing a memoir is its own kind of birthing—messy, holy, and not linear. I’m moved to know you’ve walked that path too. The stories we choose to shape, the truths we dare to voice—they become part of that ancestral whisper you mentioned. We carry it forward.
I love what you said about the evolving recognition of mothering in all its forms. Anyone who loves and nurtures is mothering. That truth is long overdue, your voice affirms it gracefully and strongly.
Happy Mother’s Day to you too—thank you for reading, witnessing, and walking this path with such heart. 💛 I appreciate you.
Thank you for showing me what it is to sing a full song- to pick up where our mothers and grandmothers left off. This gives me so much comfort today. So much inspiration. What a beautiful, deep, and wise piece!! xoxo
Hello Silicious, thank you so much for reading and your words—they go straight to my heart.
Yes… We pick up where our mothers and grandmothers left off, sometimes with cracked voices, sometimes with fire—but always with love.
It means everything to know this piece brought you comfort and inspiration. That’s the true song: the one we sing together, across generations.
So much love to you today and always dear friend. xoxo 💛✨
This makes me tear up as I read this: That's the true song: the one we sing together, across generations. xoxo
💙🌹🧡
Hi Prajna,
Wow, I feel the rawness of your emotions as I read this for the third time — so much resonates as I see similarities with my own story and many of the women I know; the layers of ‘unworthiness’ reinforced in a patriarchal society not fit for any of us. Second wave feminism was also a salve for me.
Your soul reading — amazing. The wisdom of the ancestral line of women, are too so much a part of my recovery and healing; drawing on their strengths to shift the energetic patterns around those behaviours, theirs and ours, that haven’t served us. Acceptance and surrender, with love.
“Contrary to crusty patriarchal religious dogma, everybody is sacred, equal, and meant to live with holy meaning.”
Yes, when we are lost we have forgotten we are a soul, and I love how she waits patiently for us, and in your sacred role as mother you are bringing your circle of women close, so very powerful and beautiful. And in that space we meet our soul’s calling.
What a wonderful read to wake up to. Thank you. And thank you also, for the mention. Happy Mother’s Day 🥰 🙏 💐
Aww Simone,
Thank you for this, sister—your words hold so much soul and hard-won wisdom.
Yes… the layers of unworthiness, the ache of forgetting, the weight of patterns we didn’t choose but carried anyway. And then—second wave feminism, ancestral knowing, sacred remembrance—all as salve, as spark, as the slow undoing.
I feel you beside me in this circle of women, reclaiming what was never truly lost—only buried.
Your line “Acceptance and surrender, with love” holds it all.
Thank you for reading so fully, so many times, and for walking this path with tenderness and clarity.
We are remembering together.
And I’m so glad you’re here. 💐💛🙏 and for restacking. I appreciate this so much, it makes me want to dance to have your company.
Well, we must be soul sisters given you are the salty crone and I am the fairy crone (it's in my profile) 🤣 🙏 💜 💚 🤍
What a journey we are all having and sharing — what a women's circle of combined love, energy and power and wisdom. I can feel it running through my body as we all reach out and grab each other's hands. Yes, it was only ever buried. No wonder the patriarchy burnt women; they are scared of the power we yield — and here we are.
Tears of gratitude spill here, the comfort that briny tears bring — heart's expression. Let's dance 🥰
Hi Simone,
Fairy Crone, meet your salty sister in soul and sass! 🧂🧚♀️💃
Yes—this circle, this power, this memory returning through our bodies like a drumbeat. I feel it too. What a reunion of women who never truly left… just waited for the time to rise again.
Tears, salt, mess, and joy—all sacred.
Let’s keep dancing in this remembering, hand in hand.
We are what they feared—and what the world now needs.
What a time of reckoning and accumulating our lived experience as mature women. I look forward to your continued rising.
💜💚🤍🔥
"We are what the feared — and what the world needs now." Brilliant 💜
This is such a raw, beautiful and heartfelt tribute to your experience of motherhood, which is unique and universal at the same time. My jaws dropped when reading about what the psychic in New York said to you, and how that shaped your life subsequently. You have shown the world the tremendous gifts you've carried with you from birth. I can see the light in your eyes still shining bright. Keep shining!
Lily, I feel the same about you and will always remember the Zoom call with you and Nan
An immediate connection
I love you sister and walk with you
Yes, sister! That feeling of immediate connection hasn't changed for me. I look forward to another zoom exchange 😊
I sincerely hope that we can find time to do this. Where are you living again?
I'm in NY state, i.e. Eastern Time. Please DM me and let's try to set up a chat! :-)
Hi Lily,
Thank you for reading. Your words are like sunlight through the trees—warming, affirming, and deeply seen.
Yes, that moment with the psychic cracked something open in me. I didn’t know it then, but her words planted the seed of everything that followed.
Thank you for witnessing this path, for feeling the universal inside the personal, and for reminding me light still shines. I feel yours too, sister. Keep glowing. 💛✨
Prajna, I'm honored to be invited to witness your path, and to embrace the complexities and magic of your being, which you so courageously hold together. Holding you in warm regard. 💕🤗
This was a beautiful read. Thank you for pouring your heart and soul into this piece. It really made me reflect on my own mothering journey and mother line healing journey. 💚
Kelli, thank you so much for reading with such an open heart. 💚
It means everything to know this piece stirred reflection on your mothering and motherline healing journey. That’s the work, isn’t it—layered, ongoing, sacred.
Grateful to be walking alongside you in it. 🙏
We definitely finish her song. And motherhood is my dharma for sure. I became a mom at 16, a grandma at 34. I have 9 grandkids and 6 great grandkids. What a ride! And I did it all outside the lines. Thanks for a great piece, Prajna!
Hey Kelly, what a ride indeed!
Your path is extraordinary—six great-grandkids and a life lived outside the lines — yes … that’s a legacy of fierce love and lived experience that gives you the fire, soul strength, and wisdom harvested from life.
Yes, we do finish her song—sometimes with our own off-beat rhythm, sometimes with a full chorus. Never inside the lines.
Thank you for sharing a glimpse of your dharma.
I’m honored this piece resonated with you. 💛
You always touch my soul and heart when you write about your life. Your early years are a reflection of my own only with minor differences. I was lucky that the path I wound up on was not as sad as yours, but had its share of harm hurt and regrets. Motherhood completely changed me. Not overnight but over years of dealing with some heartbreaking experiences I slowly changed and wisdom grew within me after each decade passed. Your spiritual path in nature, and the profound strength born into women is enlightening. I am not the exact same way, but I comprehend it and also empathize with much of your feelings. You are you —in every sense of the words. and you have strength beyond many. Your path in life has made you stand out as extraordinary. You did the work needed to make you resilient. In my own way of looking at life I see you not only as part of a whole but in the center of it, leading others to find the path you chose for your own healing and becoming. You are admirable. Sharing so much of who you were and who you are today exposes your core and we are so very fortunate to be allowed to journey along side you. Thank you for this inspiration to reflect on my own experiences with mothers and the path I took to be the best mother I could finally manage to be. Happy Mother’s Day to you and to all the mothers of every kind reading your post.
Thank you Prajna. ❤️🌼 I am the honored one by your inclusion. 🥰🌹
💙🌹🧡
Dear Kathy, Your words moved me to tears.
To be seen like this—through the lens of your own lived wisdom and open heart—is such a gift. I feel the soul-kinship in what you’ve shared. Our paths, while uniquely shaped, have crossed so many of the same thresholds: early harm, the slow reshaping through motherhood, the long, decade-by-decade unfolding of strength and insight.
Your reflection reminds me that healing is never solitary—it radiates through time and into the lives of others, as yours does. You, too, are in the center of the whole, offering presence, truth, and hard-earned grace.
Thank you for walking this journey alongside me. And thank you for allowing my story to awaken your own reflections on mothering, womanhood, and becoming.
Wishing you a deep and tender Mother’s Day, Kathy. You are part of this sacred circle.
💛 🌿
“When we lose our way in the world, it’s often the soul that’s gone missing. Soul is the quiet pulse of life that weaves body and spirit.” Beautiful, Prajna. A wonderful essay. So powerful.
Mary, thank you, dear one.
“When we lose our way in the world, it’s often the soul that’s gone missing. Soul is the quiet pulse of life that weaves body and spirit.”
I’m so touched that these words found their way to you. I know you’re moving through deep loss—and to have you here, receiving and reflecting, means more than I can say.
Your soul carries, even in sorrow. Especially in sorrow. 💛
I’m holding you close.
🌹🌹🌹
Wow! Your words carry such immense depth, honesty and raw power - thank you so much Prajna for sharing these profound reflections. The way you intertwine personal experience with the larger forces of patriarchy, ancestry, soul and transformation is deeply moving and deeply resonant. Your journey speaks of resilience, resistance and the sacred act of reclaiming one’s own life and voice.
The echoes of your past, the struggles, triumphs, light and shadow, reveal a spiralling path carved by the deepest pain and the deepest joy. The courage of your mother, those scars of silence, your awakening through writing - every page, chapter of your 'book' is being woven into something deeply personal, yet universally significant. What an immense calling motherhood has been for you.
You remind me that healing is complex, that the layers of identity - daughter, mother, grandmother, woman, soul - are constantly evolving. The act of writing as ritual, of honouring the truths carried within, is such a beautiful testament to how stories rise when they are meant to. Thanks once again for sharing these fierce, wild woman awakenings, with such tenderness, wisdom and power. ❤️🙏
Dear Deborah,
Your words come out of lived experience (I can tell) and move through me like a blessing.
Thank you for this deeply attuned reflection—for seeing the spiral path, the silence and the roar, the ache and the reclaiming. Your language holds the sacredness of it all: resilience, resistance, ritual, return.
Yes—healing is layered, identity fluid, and stories do rise when they’re meant to.
Your witness is a gift, and your own liberated voice, radiant and wise, keeps me company on this winding road.
With gratitude and love,
Prajna ❤️🙏 and thx for sharing!
Potent writing @Prajna, the potency of Divine Motherhood is too my path, everything has collapsed in her potency and fire (honey and ash the body of work SHE (Great Mother ) gifted me through my book!!!) everything has to become ashes in this purifying descent 🙇♀️ YES ancestors live well inside ! Only today I freed my grandmother - from the story of betrayal- potent potent medicine this work - and I resisted motherhood with all my mighty ( not to begin with I feel in love with my first boy and then the descend begun clearing all ancestral lines !)the rest s history! I love your fierce mama love
Dear Maria, your response pulses with fire and truth.
Honey and ash—yes. That’s the body of the Great Mother, the descent, the clearing, the becoming. I feel your words like a drumbeat.
What power to free your grandmother from the story of betrayal—that is the medicine we carry, and the healing we offer backward and forward through time.
I see your fierce mama love. I feel it.
We walk the same scorched and sacred ground. Thank you for bringing your voice to this song. 🙇♀️🔥❤️ and thanks so much for the restack.
Scorched and sacred 🙇♀️
Prajna, this hit me in the core: "A woman's body is our first environment." Stunning. I mean, breathtaking. And you went so deep in so many directions surrounding motherhood and the expectations placed upon women and what it means to mother. I think about this all the time, because these are thematic threads in my memoir.
Thank you so much for those seven words. Thank you for thinking of me and I remember you in my heart of hearts this Mother's Day weekend, too.
Jeanine… Thank you! Your words go straight to my heart.
To know that line—“A woman’s body is our first environment”—landed with such force means everything. I felt it as a truth too big to hold when it first came through, and I’m so grateful it touched you.
Your memoir is weaving those same threads, and I can feel the power in your voice already—truth-telling, nuanced, essential.
Thank you for remembering me this Mother’s Day. I hold you just as close. Heart of hearts, sister. 💛🌿
Thank you for restacking. I look forward to your memoir!
Oh, Prajna, receiving this response from you feels so life-affirming! I was just thinking about my memoir again today and it hasn't yet found a home, so I'm waiting. I know it's ready.
So much of it involves me trying to hold sacred space for both myself and my children - not choosing one or the other, but trying to make a way for all of us to find shelter in this world, together.
Knowing that you feel a connection to my story means everything. Sending you love. 💓