Mothering, behind the scenes. 

No, it’s not Mother’s Day, but I found myself thinking recently about what makes a good mother. What does it look like? Being a mother myself I’m often plagued by what I suspect many before me, and running along side me, have been - how am I doing? Am I getting it right? How profoundly and interminably am I messing up my children? According to Donald Winnicott, what you have to be is a “good-enough” mother. Good enough?! Who wants to be just good enough?! A very wise woman and confident once shared her understanding of this with me and it resonated with me deeply. Being a good mother doesn’t mean being an uber mom. Being a good mother doesn’t mean always getting it right or always being there. Being a good mother is giving your child the feeling that you are there for them when they need you. It’s about giving them the understanding that they are loved, unconditionally … and by all means, it’s corralling them and licking their hair down for Picture Day.


The Contrarian

This is Matthew. A self-proclaimed contrarian. Matthew and I met just a few short weeks ago at my most favorite Thai restaurant, located in Camden, Maine. I was sitting at a nearby table while he was eating lunch and playing attentively with a little girl named Py, who is the owner/chef’s daughter (and the next most delicious thing to the food!). Matthew and I struck up a conversation and as it turns out, he is a mushroom forager. He supplies the majority of the mushrooms for the particular Thai restaurant we were eating at as well as other local restaurants. He showed me the most beautiful basket of black trumpet mushrooms he’d picked earlier that day. One thing led to another and at 7 am the following morning I was on a 3-hr. “foray” in the woods with a most fascinating and generous man. He lives his life simply – a 2-room house with no electricity, no running water, no phone – just as he likes it. He grows a staggering array of vegetables as well as raises chickens. Did I mention he designs and weaves his own foraging baskets that would fetch top dollar at a NYC shop? And the canoe, lying in his yard, which he built by hand, is not only functional but a piece of art you would proudly display for all to see. Matthew, you touched me deeply. Thank you for sharing yourself with me. I’m eternally and immeasurably grateful.


What do you feel?

My very first blog. It’s always seemed like such a daunting endeavor. The commitment. The exposure. And?

And yesterday was my birthday. It didn’t feel much like a birthday, which was just fine. What it felt like was something incredibly welcome. It felt like a moment to just be. To see. To feel. It was an opportunity to be with whatever presented itself. I sometimes get hung up on the technicality of my work - did I get it right?! Interestingly, what others talk about when they look at my work is how it makes them feel. So, how do you feel?

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