March is a month I don’t tend to march into.

I tread extra carefully, as if I am avoiding the crocuses as they return from their hibernation. I feel I have good reason for this, March is a month packed with remembrances.

Both of my parent’s made their final departures in March. Then we have the celebration of us Irish folk, St Patricks. Finally there is Mother’s day right bang in the heart of the month.

The word Mother has its origins in ‘mater’ or ‘matter’. I have always looked at the Earth as a mother… or more like a mothership. 

This term mother implies unconditional love, boundlessness, support, holding, rootedness, power.

Time spent amidst trees; forest bathing supports me. The trees are a constant reminder that the Mother is close by.

I consider once again how I can embody these qualities as a Mother and as someone who sees the earth as her truest Mother.

To be spacious is vast … a vast heart can hold everything.

I will leave you with one of my favourite Mother(ship) poems:

An excerpt from In Memory Of My Mother

I do not think of you lying in the wet clay
Of a Monaghan graveyard; I see
You walking down a lane among the poplars
On your way to the station, or happily

On a fair day by accident, after
The bargains are all made and we can walk
Together through the shops and stalls and markets
Free in the oriental streets of thought.

O you are not lying in the wet clay,
For it is a harvest evening now and we
Are piling up the ricks against the moonlight
And you smile up at us – eternally.

Patrick Kavanagh