Who CARES?

I walk into Starbucks and even the grocery store and I am greeted as "guest or friend", but in reality is this the truth? Am I really a guest or friend? Am I really treated like a guest or friend like my mom treats one at the house with the best dinner plates and the fancy desserts, not holding back but showering with grace and love? In our communities where did this kind of motherly care go? Is this care out there in the community? And where is this community? The real community! Not the online community posing as the next best thing. Who out there really cares? Who cares?

Our mother cares. Our mother cares, but she too was sold a bad deal. Somewhere in time we told our mother that she needed to be something more than what she was. We told her that being a mother was just not good enough. We told her to get out of the house and that would equal freedom. Is that really the freedom that our mother was asking for? The freedom to run and head a fortune 500 company. The freedom to take care of the family from the sidelines with take-out food and maid service. The freedom to ultimately be armed and ready to take on the world fighting! The freedom to swim in the pool of stress. Is that what our mother wanted?

Or was our mother asking for freedom in another way? Was she simply asking for a little room for her creative, round, full, feminine body to be accepted and heard? What is it really that our mother wants? Did we ever stop and ask?

I don't pretend to know. But lets give her the room to be her big beautiful round self. Let's not chisel her into something linear and straight, something that she most definitely is not. If I look into my mother's eyes, she is crying. She is holding back tears. She wants to nurture, she is a mother. But we don't let her. We all can see that the world is in need of the nurturing, but we have be sold the notion that we can 'do it our selves'. More nurturing may mean more community and more community may mean less separateness. But our mother can't do this alone. She needs to be nurtured herself.

Who Cares? Your mom does. Gershwin wrote the song and Balanchine made the ballet. Call your mom. Heal the planet.