First time here? Welcome. I’m Sarina, Mother, mentor, artist and writer. My publication - Fully Expressed - holds us to a truer, braver expression, while we shamelessly inhabit our unique brilliance and beauty.
No one’s giving us permission, so we do it anyway.
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For the drivers, multi-taskers, or restless ones, here’s the audio version.
If you’re the type to make things a big deal, especially when they’re not, HI 👋🏽
We’re a cute bunch.
We make very.serious.cases, in our internal world, for why we can’t just do the thing.
Even the things we deeply desire to do.
So many whirring reasons why it’s hard.
Overwhelm is real, no wonder we make things a bigger deal than they need to be, we’re maxed out, especially as mothers, and we crave a wide window of un-interrupted space to create some epic shit.
Yeah, good luck with that.
Where’s the fucking village?
It IS a big deal that we’re doing this mother-partner-homemaker-creator thing in isolation.
I’ve battled with resentment at the fucked up system we inherited. Battled with guilt about my resentment when I have a healthy, joyful child who looks at me like I’m God and just wants me to play with her. I’ve battled with how much I should just get down on the floor and play, whether I want to or not, and how much I should fight for my right to have space to create, alone, in peace.
I think God just called me on it
In recent weeks, my daughter has been running over to me while I’m doing the dishes, clutching her Cabbage Patch doll and pleading,
“Mum, you be the teacher and I’ll be the mum, okaayyy?”
I’ve clenched and stiffened against a looping backstory of ‘Fuck the system, where’s my village? I’m holding too much, how can I tend to the house AND play with my child, I don’t even WANT to play this game, I want to sit down and create some epic shit.’
In Human Design I’m a Projector (I naturally have inconsistent energy levels), I’m also easily overwhelmed and over-stimulated, I cannot handle lyric-based music in the background while there’s any hint of conversation in the room, I need to be single-task focused so I don’t scream, I need things to be in neat segments, clear delineation between washing the dishes and parenting.
Who am I kidding? There are no segments. It’s a fact that as a mother-partner-homemaker-creator, all lines and roles are blurred.
And fighting against this has nearly killed me.
I was very attached to neat segments, clear delineations. I was attached to my child understanding my capacity, “Can you see, my hands are busy right now?”
Obviously, it didn’t work, because, humility check - I was trying to control everything in anger that ‘It’s fucked mothers have to do so much’, which it is, but there’s an exhale awaiting.
Lately, something has kept leaning over and whispering,
“What if you do it like it’s no big deal?”
So I stood there, the very next time, scrubbing the frying pan…
Little feet bounding over, "Mum, you be the teacher…”
I breathed, I let my belly soften, I unclenched.
What if I do it like it’s no big deal?
“Ok, we can play it here while I’m washing up.”
“Ok, Mum,” she grinned.
She hadn’t given up on me, thank goodness.
The no-big deal micro-moments
It’s been my resistance to playing Gia’s game while washing dishes, the resistance to ‘Do I have to fucking do it ALL?’ which was in fact, far more taxing than actually doing it.
I’d treated these kinds of blurred lines like a really big deal.
Sure, my body is tired, but more so, I’m tired of the voice in my head that’s gripping to how hard this all is.
It’s not my daughter’s fault the village isn’t playing teachers and mums with her while I daydream and wash the dishes.
We inherited this far from ideal village-less paradigm, but there’s no revolution when there’s resentment.
I’m here for the no-big-deal-micro-moments, where instead of gritting my teeth and breathing THROUGH it, I’m breathing WITH* all the roles I’m asked to play, with some relief, with some grace.
The lines are allowed to blur. I don’t need such rigid delineation of moments and roles.
I’m not exactly designed for multi-tasking, but I get to find some grace, in the magical micro-moments where I let God do God’s thing, where by some miracle I can soften, despite it all.
I’m learning:
Grace is let in when I stop resisting, when I stop saying NO to God.
“What if you do it like it’s no big deal?” - I understand now, has been the whisper of God - not judging me, but seeing my cute rigid self and inviting me into softness.
For the record, for me, God is a benevolent force far beyond any religion, not to mention gender. You’re free to unsubscribe if my belief bothers you 😉
Let me tell ya, I’m NOT the embodiment of this message (yet), quite frankly I think this idea of needing to embody a message before we share it, is utter BS, which I wrote about here.
Embodiment is not for the initiated few, who get to preach from some holier-than-thou place.
We get to teach what we most need to hear.
And I’m further anchoring in this message of ‘What if you do it like it’s no big deal?’ by sharing it here with you.
This no big deal thing, I’m inviting it to bleed into many more areas of my life.
Thank fuck I’m not striving for embodiment behind the scenes before I deem myself worthy of sharing it with you.
Maybe it’s meant to be shared. Maybe God is whispering to us all.
Maybe, I dunno, we’re in this together. Crazy idea, right?
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How did this land with you? I’d love to hear your thoughts and experiences in the comments.
*Thank you to
for this simple and profound distinction which you can read about here.Writers I’m loving:
I highly recommend this beauty from
Grace is When Your Belly SoftensThis is satire piece is GOLD from
I don’t understand why more women don’t want to be mothers in this country that doesn’t support mothersThese poems by
just WOW
I love the way you explained this and as someone who grew up in a household where everything was a big deal, I completely understand where you are coming from. I am Definitely a constant work in progress trying to rewire my brain and body from “clenching and anger” to “softness and ease.”🙏🏼
What a beautiful share, Sarina! I felt less alone in my mother-wife-self-creator existence, reading your words. Thank you!🧡