I have found this month really busy and full of action compared to the last few. Many of my conversations with friends and clients have been about managing overwhelm and ways to deal with intense feelings from last year while moving forward with everyday life. I call this integrating as you go.
Simple acknowledgement of emotion always helps me. And separating how I feel right now from what is resurfacing from the past. This allows a little bit of clarity and maybe the possibility of delaying some feelings until later when I am ready to look at them.
Practicing a daily awareness of small joys also helps to keep me present and heart-centred:
- the smell of washing dried in the sun
- the sound of happy chickens clucking and kids playing and laughing outside
- de-cluttering a corner or cupboard and seeing the sun shine into the space created
- learning to play a favourite tune on the piano by ear
- sitting next to a houseplant or tree outside and taking a few deep breaths with them
The last part of integration is to feel settled and safe within your body and nervous system. I use a simple body scan practice to help me and my daughter with this at the end of a busy day.
I have been supporting lots of women through the pregnancy>birth>postpartum continuum this month. Most often this is a long bodywork session to release myofascial tension, find ease and balance within ligaments, flow within lymphatic fluids and comfort within the nervous system. Other times we will simply go for a walk together or have a long talk and cry or laugh as much as needed.
When I am present for a birth my support looks more like sitting still, eyes soft and unfocused, breathing steady, body relaxed. I watch the birthing woman and her partner from my peripheral vision. I wait. I witness. I make eye contact now and then and smile or nod gently. Sometimes we talk; making plans for the next few contractions, encouraging her to keep going, keep trusting. Sometimes I use touch; hold her hand, stroke her back, squeeze her hips.
It is such deep, emotional work. I feel such devotion to holding the family's experience as sacred, no matter what circumstances arise. I use all my strength to maintain a continuous loving one-to-one presence. And their story settles deep into my heart and changes me every time.
But when I leave the birthspace and return to the every day world, or sometimes even when I look up within the hospital setting, it feels like I am doing nothing. And I forget the value of my work. I question what difference am I making? I feel like a tiny drop in the ocean of the maternity system.
This week I received some restored photos from the beautiful photographer Elliana Allon of my daughter's birth. I had sent the photos to her to edit in celebration of seven years of motherhood (can't believe she turns seven this week!). They were quick snaps from a phone that always looked blurry and dark, but so precious to me regardless.
Elliana described them as rich dark velvety images of a sacred moment. The gift of re-seeing these images through her eyes has reminded me that my own imprint of joyful birth expands further outwards every time I am with birthing women. My tiny drop can make ripples and waves.
And I'm reminded that the tricky thing about legacy is that we do not always benefit from our own slow intentional work to change. It is for the benefit of future women and children. I'm so grateful to all the generations before me, and the ripples and waves they created to ease my way in life.
If you know any families in Melbourne needing support during their birthing years, please let them know about my work or forward this email. I also regularly help people of all ages and stages find ease and integration with osteopathic treatment (you can book online here).
Much love,
Emily
