Tag: empathy

Other Mothers

“Culture
The Moms Are Not Alright
What’s going on: We’re still months away from Mother’s Day, but Hollywood can’t stop putting moms on the big screen right now — and they aren’t just supporting characters. Two movies are currently driving the conversation: Jennifer Lawrence’s Die My Love and Rose Byrne’s If I Had Legs I’d Kick You. As Glamour puts it, they’re all about the mom meltdown. Lawrence portrays a new mom battling postpartum depression, and Byrne plays a single mother caring for a sick child while trying to hold it together. The stories are wildly different, but the women do share this: valid crash-outs. And in each case, a frustrating partner helps push them there. (Because honestly, who gives a new mom a puppy?)
What it means: Motherhood in America is a pressure cooker. Child care costs averaged $13,000 in 2024, according to one report. Nearly half of all mothers report symptoms of postpartum depression. Add the centuries-old demand to be the “perfect mom,” and it’s no wonder so many feel like they’re falling apart. These films don’t just tell that story — they confront it. Each one holds up a mirror to how society rushes to judge mothers for cracking under impossible expectations instead of asking what broke them in the first place. The result? A cultural moment that feels less like escapism and more like recognition. The only question now: Will people watch a movie that feels this close to real life?” – The Daily Skimm

I hadn’t planned on writing this morning. Lately, my inspirational “hits” have been more focused on my transforming “nest” and the upcoming holidays, but then I read the above blurb from the Daily Skimm. As a woman who is over the hump of raising her kids (my eldest son of our four “children” will be 30 in April, and our daughter, the youngest is 22) and as a mother, who has passed the threshold of the everyday duties of raising kids to become functioning adults, the words that I read above were still recognizable, and reverberating in my body. I ached with compassion for these fictional characters, and also for the many, many non-fictional women, over decades of generations, whom these characters represent. I ached with compassion for my younger self.

I intimately knew many fellow mothers throughout the years of raising my children. Despite our different theories, methods and choices in parenting, and despite our wildly different experiences and backgrounds, relationships, and nationalities and beliefs, these other mothers were my comrades and my compadres, my “sisters-in-arms”. I couldn’t have done it without them. Despite how vindictive, judgmental, catty and hard on each other, we women can be, it was the support of other mothers that kept it all afloat for me. It was the validation and the understanding and the quiet knowing of when to step in, and when to cheerlead, and when to send prayers and when to be a strong example (good examples and bad examples) that came from the other mothers (of all different ages) in my life – these are the things, all gifts from the other mothers, which got me to the threshold in one piece.

And so “crashing out”, “meltdowning”, “trying desperately to be perfect” mommy, let me be your compadre today. Let me be your sister-in-arms. You are okay. You are doing your best. You do not have to meet impossible expectations. You have many other women in your life who are mothers and who completely get it. Find the ones whom you feel safe enough to be vulnerable with, and let it all out. You love your kids. If there is one thing that all of us mothers understand is the undeniable strength that a mother carries every single day of her life until the day that she dies, because she allows her heart to walk far away from herself, into many unknown dangers and adventures and escapades, all apart from her, in all different directions, from the moment she experiences her first child’s first breath. A mother’s heart has pieces of itself scattered in many different directions, throughout the rest of her life. Understanding this, why would it not be hard to hold it all together? Sweet mother, answer me this, with the pieces of your heart scattering in the wind, how could you not have moments of crashing out and melting down? Why, in your unholy perfectionism, are you the hardest on yourself?

Movies are great for “escapism”, but people who actually intimately know what you are going through in life, are great for “recognition.” If you don’t need to see your life, dramatically splayed out on the big screen, that’s okay. But I guarantee you, in real life, you need someone who “sees” you. You need someone who can validate what you are experiencing, as a mother, externally and internally. Find those other mothers. Find the ones who are going through it with you, and also find those mothers, like me, who have graduated to a different level of holding up the scaffolding of a family that she has already built. Find those other mothers, and let them in. Throughout raising my children, I knew young mothers and older ones, working moms and stay-at-home ones, married moms and single ones, straight moms and gay ones, religious moms and non-religious ones, moms of huge broods and moms of onlies, rich moms and poor moms, and guess what? None of us were perfect. We all had our “crash out” moments (and we all still do). None of us cracked the “perfect mothering formula”, but the one thing that we all had in common is that we loved our children ferociously. I saw this meme the other day that stated it perfectly: “Mama Bear is such a sweet way to describe the fact that I’d tear you open and eat your insides if you hurt my child.”

Dear sweet mother, who is reading this right now, all of the while feeling like she may explode in her own pressure cooker of steamed, mixed-up feelings of anger, frustration, fear, guilt, resentment, loneliness, shame, doubt, unworthiness, hopelessness, worry and regret, let some of the air out. Let yourself breathe. Then take a look around. You aren’t doing this alone. Within blocks of you, within clicks on a computer, are other mothers who empathize with you so completely, and all that they are asking for, is just a little bit of your own empathy back. Dear sweet mother, as I continue to build the scaffolding of my own family and I continue to support my own life, and the lives whom I brought to this Earth (we mothers carry a load), I offer you tools from my own toolbox. I offer you a seat, where you can rest and wipe your brow. I offer you the wisdom of my experiences – what worked for me, and what did not. But mostly, I offer you my love and my reassurance. You already have all of the tools you need. You are doing a great job, working on that gorgeous building that so many generations of women behind you started, and added to, all the while doubting themselves, having crashout moments and many a meltdown, along the way. And yet, here we mothers are, still growing and still building away. There should be another word besides “other mother” which describe a different mother than you. In many ways, our mothering journey is the same. Our Mother Earth knows this intimately and ultimately. She knows in the end, we are all just truly One and that’s why we can rest so deeply in her compassionate and empathetic arms. Dear sweet mothers, give yourselves moments of resting in Her calming arms. See Her in the eyes of the “other mothers”. You are not alone. You never were alone.

Are you passing on love or are you passing on pain? Heal your pain and pass on love.

Empathy Machines

Before I get to what I really want to write about today, this:

“Reading is an empathy-generating machine.” – Dr. Vivek Murthy

Isn’t this the truth? When we are having conversations, we are typically taking turns waiting to talk. Our conversations have a tendency to veer off-topic. But when you are reading, it’s just you and the words which you are reading. And written words tend to be more soulful, more thought-out, more vulnerable, more honest than everyday conversations. Reading really helps you to understand how someone else feels about their experiences. Empathy is being able to answer the question: “How do you think this makes me feel?” for someone else, other than yourself. Reading gives you time to absorb and to understand the words, and to make conclusions about the words, without getting defensive or argumentive or confused. I absolutely love to read and empathy is a wonderful by-product of reading.

And also before I get to what I really want to write about today, this:

Credit: @woofknight, X

“Oh to have impacted someone so much that they find bits of your soul and hold the memory of you in things and places when you’re not around.” Isn’t this a beautiful part of the human experience? Isn’t it wonderful to have people (and pets) in your life who come to mind often, even when they are not around. And isn’t it also great to be the person who someone is reminded of, when they see or experience certain things? These are the types of aspects of living life, that my soul crushes on, hard.

Okay, finally to what I planned to write about today:

Yesterday, our youngest son called me around 11 am. And my heart fell to the floor. I knew that my son was at work, my kids rarely call me (texting is king), and also, he has epilepsy. Thankfully my son was fine, but he was letting me know that he had just gotten an emailed letter stating that his longtime neurologist/epitologist’s practice was no longer taking my son’s health insurance.

This was the final push, which we have long-known was coming, to force us to go about finding my son a new practioner. His neurologist is getting close to retirement age, he practices in a town three hours from where our son lives, and he is technically a Pediatric Neurologist. Our son turns 24 at the end of the year.

Already I have a lump in my throat, writing this. Our son was 14 when he was diagnosed with epilepsy. He started with the small seizures called “absence seizures” or “petit mal” seizures which had probably been going on longer than we think. I often thought that my son was ignoring me or distracted with daydreaming, which I know is not out of the realm of things that teenage boys do. (he has two older brothers) However, the summer that he was diagnosed with epilepsy, our daughter and I picked him up from a summer camp (where he had gotten very little sleep) and my son’s disjointed, disorganized, “filled with stalls and stares and pauses” stories about the camp made it clear that something just wasn’t right. Later that night, I found some videos of children having absence seizures on “YouTube” and my stomach filled with dread. I took our son to our beloved pediatrician the next day only to have him confirm my fears, and to quickly recommend one of the best pediatric neurologists in town.

It took a long while to see Dr. W. He had quite the waiting list of people from in town, and from out town, who wanted to consult with him. We went to see his younger associate first, and while this young man was fresh out of medical school, and was eager and obviously brilliant, he spoke entirely too fast, and too matter-of-factly, to parents who were quickly coming to terms that life as we had all known it, had come to an end, and a big change was in store for our family. We decided to wait for an appointment with the heralded Dr. W, to see what he had to say about our son’s condition.

I quickly understood why Dr. W was so popular with his patients (and all of the medical staff). He was kind, down-to-Earth, patient to answer all of the questions and challenges that I was peppering him with, and he took a genuine interest in our son, outside of his epilepsy. It turns out that Dr. W had grown up in a farm town, and he took an interest in studying neurology because he had an uncle with epilepsy who chose never to get it treated. (This uncle would often ride around on large tractors, to the dismay of his family.)

Over the years, we have had many ups and downs with our son’s epilepsy. Epilepsy is tricky because it is treated with heavy-duty brain medication, with heavy-duty side effects, and these medications work differently, with each individual and they can stop working as one’s body changes. There is not a “one medication fits all” situation with epilepsy. There are always more questions than answers with any condition involving the brain. Currently, what is thankfully keeping ours son’s seizures at bay, are three different medications, taken two times a day. Some people with epilepsy can never keep their seizures at bay. We are lucky. This I know. I have never been more grateful for anything else in my life. It took us a long time, and a lot of scary moments with our son having many major seizures, to finally get to this combination that currently works for him. And all of the while, Dr W. did everything in his power to support us, but more importantly, to support our son, as we went through this long process of finding meds with the least side effects, that still stopped the seizures. Dr. W cared for our son throughout high school, throughout college, and throughout starting his sales career in his young adulthood. Dr. W has been a constant in our son’s sometimes otherwise unpredictable experiences.

My son was an easy patient. His mother was not. I was a totally desperate, semi-hysterical, pain-in-the-ass, many, many times. (I’m pretty sure that my son and Dr. W probably have some private jokes about his neurotic mother who thinks she knows everything due to her intimate relationship with Dr. Google, and do you know what? I effing love Dr. W for this fact. Dr. W always made our son feel nothing less than a totally normal, awesome guy with an unfortunate affliction which we were going to find a way to control. Usually Dr. W spent the appointments more focused on these sincere questions: “What did our son think about that game last night? Whose our son dating now? How’s school going? Who can I reach out to at the DMV, to let them know that it is now safe for you to drive?”)

When you are going through something tough in life, you are never alone. God sends angels. They are usually in human form. Dr. W will always be one of these “angels on Earth” for me, and for my family. Always. He took “bedside manner” to a down home, yet ethereal form.

So yesterday, with my voice cracking, I told my son that he should reach out to Dr. W for a recommendation of whom he should go to now, for treatment of his epilepsy. The time that we long knew was coming, has now come. Thank you Dr. W, for everything. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you, from the bottom of the deepest wells of my heart. I am a grateful witness and recipient, to you living a well-purposed life.

Are you passing on love or are you passing on pain? Heal your pain and pass on love.

Here is the question of the day from 3000 Questions About Me:

938. What is the most beautiful city in the world?

Trunks Up Friday

“Female elephants continuously protect each other from predators in the wild, providing one another a sense of security. A study conducted by scientists in the Indian Institute of Science, Bengaluru, revealed that stress in an adult female elephant decreased with the number of female elephants in their herd.” – Wildlife SOS

“In the wild, female elephants are known as fierce protectors. And when one of their sisters is suffering, they circle up around her. They close in tight, watch guard, and even kick dust around her to mask her vulnerable scent from predators. And yet, we are the same. This is who we are, and who we are meant to be for each other. Sometimes we’re the ones in the middle. Sometimes we’re the ones kicking up dust with fierce, fierce love.

But the circle remains.” – Festive Farm Co.

I’ve shared this information about elephants on the blog before. (Age breeds repetitiveness.) My closest friends from college and I have taken this information about elephants to heart, and we own the same elephant charms which we wear often to remind ourselves that we are there for each other, and that we have each other’s backs. I’ve also shared my love for the Sheldrick Wildlife Trust, which is an organization in Africa that cares for orphaned baby elephants until they are ready to be released into the wild again. Whenever I feel stressed or I feel a need to escape from all of the devastating news from around the world, I spend some time on the Sheldrick Wildlife Trust‘s website and I revel in the uplifting, courageous stories of their orphaned animals and their keepers, stemming from a beautiful, distant land.

I am bringing all of this up again, because my favorite for today is the Field Notes from the Sheldrick Wildlife Trust which is a monthly newsletter emailed to me at the first of every month. It is beautifully written by Angela Sheldrick whose mother founded the Sheldrick Wildlife Trust, and today’s offering was particularly poignant and beautiful. Angela entitled it “The Power of Love” and she talks about what makes for an excellent “keeper” of baby elephants. Here are some excerpts:

“In this month’s Field Notes, I wanted to delve into the ‘secret ingredient’ that it takes to successfully raise these extraordinary, complicated little creatures. . . .  Daphne (founder) realised that infant orphaned elephants didn’t just need the essentials. Shelter, sustenance, veterinary care — all these things were vital, but their psychological well-being hinged on much deeper, more nuanced care. . . . . As a steady succession of new rescues came into our care, it also became clear that raising infant orphaned elephants wasn’t a one-person job.  It was critical that orphans didn’t become overly dependent on any single individual — and equally, the task was too great for one person to shoulder alone. As our orphan herd grew, the role of Keepers became increasingly important. Today, we have more than 50 Keepers working across our five orphan units. . . . .    Instead of recruiting Keepers from one specific tribe or locality, we hire from across Kenya. Our logic is that each person, with their diverse background, opens a whole new dimension to the role. This strategy has the added bonus of fostering conservation awareness across the country. Keepers become vital ambassadors within their own communities. Over the years, many orphans have been saved by ordinary people who developed empathy for elephants through a Keeper who is a father, uncle, friend, or neighbour. . . . .

Elephants have a way of distilling a person to their purest form. Our orphans are quick to identify the ‘X factor’ that makes an excellent Keeper, which is why we ultimately put recruitment in their capable hands. New candidates join the orphan herd on a trial basis, and if they are embraced by the elephants, they are hired as a full-time Keeper. 

We call it the ‘X factor’, but to assign an all-encompassing human trait, it would be empathy. People who succeed with orphaned elephants are pure of heart, graced with a quiet confidence and unfaltering dedication.  . . . .People who possess these qualities are one in a million — yet, miraculously, they continue to find their way into our orbit . . . .”

Please read more about the Sheldrick Wildlife Trust at their website:

https://www.sheldrickwildlifetrust.org/

I highly recommend signing up for Angela’s field notes. I’m always excited to see them in my email’s inbox. Further, isn’t this a wonderful time of year to reflect on your own herd(s). Who are those strong females in your own life who have kicked up the dirt around you when you were feeling vulnerable? How about your keepers? Who in your life has that “X-factor” that helps distill you back to your own purest form (simply, love)? Who in your life has shown pureness of heart, quiet confidence, and unfaltering dedication to you? Who are your “one-in-your-millions”? Are you one of these precious keepers for others in your life, and also, importantly, for yourself?

Are you passing on love or are you passing on pain? Heal your pain and pass on love.

Lighten the Load

I’m a spongy person. I have the tendency to feel and to absorb everybody else’s emotions besides just my own. (I think this is very common in us mom-types) Yesterday was a doozy for my sponginess. It seemed so many of my loved ones were having big ups and downs, and I got on that roller coaster with them. My husband was hangry (hungry and thus, angry), my son was deeply disappointed over a test grade, my daughter was over-the-moon excited about finding her college roommate, and my sister was distraught. And I gathered that whole mix of other people’s emotion into my body, and stirred it up and I let it stew. And that’s on me.

I know that I have this tendency to take on other people’s emotions. And while it seems “nice” and full of empathy, it honestly isn’t helpful for any of us. Two frenzied worked-up people equals a lot more chaos than just one upset person. Nothing is getting solved and no one is being helped. And in the end, taking on too many swirling emotions, on top of your own mix of emotions, can lead to fatigue, resentment and even sickness.

I’ve learned a lot about noticing this phenomenon with our three dogs. When one of our dogs gets worked up, before you know it, all three have “caught” the excitement and they all end up in a hyperactive tiz. The only way to calm this situation in a hurry, is to become calm and quiet and centered myself. Dogs understand and relate to and respond to this peaceful, confident energy. Our trainer told us that our sweet, gentle collie is the leader of our pack of three dogs, and it is not because she is big (Ralphie is bigger) or because she is the only female. It is because Josie has the calmest, most centered energy of the three of them.

It helps to have the self-awareness to know that I have this tendency to take other people’s feelings on. It helps me to notice when I am falling into this habit. This is when I take a deep breath in order to ground myself. Then, I can remind myself that this feeling is not actually my own feeling, and whatever strong emotions my loved ones are feeling, these feelings will pass, just like mine do, on a regular basis. It is also my job to put boundaries on any conversations or situations that I am finding to be taxing, upsetting or draining. I have the right to stop a conversation, or to keep it to texts, or to keep it to a certain time limit. When I bring a calm reassurance that my people will be able to handle whatever they are dealing with, this is what is most helpful to all of us. Getting overly involved in other people’s issues may mean that I am avoiding or not spending enough time on my own matters of business, problems and dreams. My life, my feelings, and my actions are my responsibility. Others carry that same responsibility for their feelings, their own actions, and their individual lives. By tending to my “own stuff”, I take that burden of worry from other people, and I can inspire them by example to know that they are fully capable of taking care of their “own stuff”, too.

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Are you passing on love or are you passing on pain? Heal your pain and pass on love.