“Find the seed at the bottom of your heart and bring forth a flower.” -Shigenori Kameoka
Today I hugged my mother.Â Hugs are not a rare occurrence for me, but today’s hug was different (and not because society defined it so)…
Mainstream America decided that today I am supposed to love my mother more than every other day of the year.Â By society’s standards, this very Sunday I should channel all my thoughts and love toward my mother…but ironically, today I am only thinking of me.Â It was a day of the inescapable self, when I was solely consumed by my own worries.Â Today was one of those days where no matter how much I tried to fight it, my ego overcame my entire being.Â Â It was a day of disconnect, and this only further perpetuated my frustration with myself.
So I decided to stop fighting.Â I stopped actively trying to forget about myself and how I should be concentrating on my mother, and simply fell into her arms.Â Instead of bringing her love and appreciation, I brought her my unspoken worries, my failures, my self-inflicted miseries (however minute they were in reality) and she embraced them.Â She embraced me.Â I am nearly twenty years old, and I discovered today that my mother’s arms still have the power to melt away my troubles.
This is the beauty of motherhood: the very purest selfless and unconditional love.Â I remembered today that in order to learn to love we must first be loved.
Sometimes I’m asked about my first experience with service and if it was something that my family ingrained in me.Â My first instinct is to say no:Â I wasn’t born into a family that spent their Sunday afternoons in soup kitchens.Â But today, my answer is yes.Â My first exposure to love was born in my mother’s eyes, and my first exposure to compassion was born in her arms.
So thank you to every mother for planting that very first seed of love in our lives.Â For every flower that blooms compassion, I dedicate that blossom to you.Â Happy Mothers’ Day.