I propose that we enlarge Mother’s Day so that we honor not just our biological mothers but also our spiritual mothers.
These are the teachers, neighbors, aunts, family friends and others whose influence made an indelible impression on us. Frequently these women didn’t have their own children, but lovingly nurtured and guided the children and young adults in their lives.
My own spiritual mothers include a colorful bohemian 12th grade English teacher, who drew me out of my shell, gently prodding me to give more rein to my imagination. As my writing loosened up, so did I, becoming more confident and at ease with myself.
During a college summer vacation, I wandered into a party my parents were hosting. One of my mother’s friends, a worldly woman, approached me. We talked about books. When she discovered I was unfamiliar with Colette, she invited me to her home to see her library. I left with a book by Colette, returning often to borrow more books, lingering over meaningful conversation, and relishing in her undivided attention.
More recently I was part of a women’s spiritual retreat center in Tenants Harbor, Maine. A few of the older members listened thoughtfully to my spiritual confusion, providing direction and support. I found solace in their quiet, accepting manner.
Over the years close friends have been my spiritual mothers (as I’ve been to them.) They comforted me when my divorce grew ugly; when my mother died; and when my ex-husband died tragically from drowning. Their support has been invaluable, casting a light for me in the darkness.
In Native American culture the childless woman is never shamed or given the label of “childless.” She is welcomed as a “mother” to her siblings’ children and to other children in the community.
Kim Catrell, the actress, best known for her role in “Sex and The City,” describes her life as a spiritual mother:
“I’m not a biological parent, but I am a parent. I have young actors and actresses that I mentor. I have nieces and nephews that I am very close to. The thing that I find questionable about being childless or childfree is, are you really? There is a way to become a mother that doesn’t include your name on the child’s birth certificate. You can express that maternal side of you very, very clearly, very strongly…. So, I feel I am a mother, of sorts . . . because I care about the next generation.”
Women’s history has supplied me with an unending supply of spiritual mothers: women on the vanguard who assume a revered space in my memory bank of remarkable women. Among these spiritual mothers are the Suffragettes, Simone de Beauvoir, soulful writers like Alice Munro, Audre Lorde, and living social justice champions, like Angela Davis and Arundhati Roy. Their courageous examples and writings never fail to inspire and elevate my own spiritual self.
Why not honor some of your living spiritual mothers and send them a Mother’s Day card where you thank them for their presence in your life? If they’re no longer here, light a candle for them.
If you’re an elder, take on the mantle of spiritual mother for some of the younger women in your life. Have coffee with them and listen to their stories, offering affirmations and advice, if solicited.
Globally all women are called to be spiritual mothers to our troubled planet. We’re called to invoke our compassionate nature to act for climate justice and world peace.