Creation Energy
A (fabulous) writer on a listserve I belong to recently lamented that she has no energy for writing now that she is nearing the end of her pregnancy, and that got me to thinking...I think that all our creation energy comes from the same inner well, whether we use it for writing or painting or composing or gestating. When one is making a baby inside one's body, I would say that for most people that bigger-than-we-can-even-imagine act of creation uses up just about the whole pool of creation energy most of us have. So, when one is busy being the vessel for the creation of a brand new human being, I think one can forgive oneself if one doesn't have anything left over for something as mundane as putting words on paper! Don't get me wrong--I am not denigrating writing--it's just that the act of writing and the act of producing a baby seem to me to be on two entirely different scales. Unless, of course, you're someone like Doris Lessing. But... you notice how many children she had...
On an entirely different note: now that my children range in age from 8 to 15, and I am looking back on my own pregnancies from afar, knowing there will be no more, I have only one regret, and that is that I didn't realize how special, and how fleeting, that time was. I was raised by a mom who encouraged me to reach for the stars, do whatever I wanted to do, and not to "let having children get in the way," so I think I was determined to show that I wouldn't be slowed down by pregnancy. I even remember this experience, during my first pregnancy when I was still teaching dance at a private girls' school: I was 8 months pregnant, going up a long flight of steps from the cafeteria toward the dance rooms, and when I became aware that a gaggle of teachers at the bottom of the stairs were watching me go up, I started taking the stairs two at a time just to show how not-slowed-down I was!!
Anyway, I now wish I had spent more time just gestating--just sitting in a rocking chair, staring out the window, luxuriating in feeling slow and fat and stupid, relishing this amazing, miraculous thing happening inside me. If I had it to do again, I would sit back, close my eyes, and visualize the formation of each eyelash, each thigh fold, each rosebud lip. I would wrap my arms around my big ripe belly and cradle that tiny ocean, and imagine the beautiful creature swimming in it, and cherish the time when I could actually hope to keep my child safe from this crazy world, protected by my bones and muscle, nourished by my blood, soothed by the music of my heartbeat.
Jeez, I'm getting myself all choked up here.
Any of you out there lucky enough to be growing a baby: Cling to it, cherish it, ENJOY!!
So this is me, Mairi Moon, woman with wings, looking back with love, and that good old 20/20 hindsight.
On an entirely different note: now that my children range in age from 8 to 15, and I am looking back on my own pregnancies from afar, knowing there will be no more, I have only one regret, and that is that I didn't realize how special, and how fleeting, that time was. I was raised by a mom who encouraged me to reach for the stars, do whatever I wanted to do, and not to "let having children get in the way," so I think I was determined to show that I wouldn't be slowed down by pregnancy. I even remember this experience, during my first pregnancy when I was still teaching dance at a private girls' school: I was 8 months pregnant, going up a long flight of steps from the cafeteria toward the dance rooms, and when I became aware that a gaggle of teachers at the bottom of the stairs were watching me go up, I started taking the stairs two at a time just to show how not-slowed-down I was!!
Anyway, I now wish I had spent more time just gestating--just sitting in a rocking chair, staring out the window, luxuriating in feeling slow and fat and stupid, relishing this amazing, miraculous thing happening inside me. If I had it to do again, I would sit back, close my eyes, and visualize the formation of each eyelash, each thigh fold, each rosebud lip. I would wrap my arms around my big ripe belly and cradle that tiny ocean, and imagine the beautiful creature swimming in it, and cherish the time when I could actually hope to keep my child safe from this crazy world, protected by my bones and muscle, nourished by my blood, soothed by the music of my heartbeat.
Jeez, I'm getting myself all choked up here.
Any of you out there lucky enough to be growing a baby: Cling to it, cherish it, ENJOY!!
So this is me, Mairi Moon, woman with wings, looking back with love, and that good old 20/20 hindsight.
posted by Mairi @ 5/13/2004 09:17:00 AM
