The Need for Mothering

This morning I was feeling rather tender. Well, to be honest, I was feeling a bit tender last night as well. That sort of ambiguous sensitivity that makes you want to shut the door on the world, curl up in a ball, and drink loads of tea. It is subtle, though, that feeling; it creeps in around the edges of consciousness, such that each movement in the process of dressing, or in the simple preparation of toasted bread, becomes ever so slightly heavy. And then, *ah* - an inner acknowledgment that what I needed more than anything was to be mothered.

I wanted Ochun and Yemaya to bathe me in sweet and briny waters. I wanted to curl up in honeyed arms, and have my hair stroked by firm and gentle ocean hands.

I wanted mothering. So when I brewed my morning tea I added elder berries to the herbal mix. Elder has always felt like the earthiest and most prototypical mother tree. Perhaps it's because it tends to so many common ailments, like coughs, colds, and the flu. Perhaps it is because nearly the entire tree offers itself up for our wellbeing.

As it steeped I continued my last few tasks in preparation for the day ahead, and just before heading back to the kitchen to pour myself a steaming travel mug full of herbal blessings I decided to pull a card from the Tarot of Vampyres (which generally sits out on my bedside table). I shuffled briefly, and I cut with one hand; I didn't ask a question, I simply poured my sentiments, like tea, into the cards. And then, there was the Empress, reflecting back to me my needs and desires, and letting me know that in one way or another, she had her arms around me.