Where can I go? Where will my family be safe? I think a lot about “home” as a homesteader living in climate precarity. I constantly wonder where safer is. As a small farmer in rural Southern Oregon my lungs have seen a significant amount of wildfire smoke. Nothing says “move on” like farming in August heat with a mask on. But, I know the truth is that no one can escape climate change. The economically rich can certainly mask it with money, but ultimately the whole planet is an ecosystem, connected across many micro ecosystems. This was amplified when a good friend escaped our wildfires to move to Asheville– only to find herself using buckets to move water out of her flooding house, just a few months in.
When I think about it deeply, I know I feel at home in the Motherline. It may be the most “home” I have felt, as far as being seen, welcomed, valued by community, and gently tended to outside of immediate family. I can only speak for myself, but I feel it has everything to do with the way women show up for each other here, on the line, versus the way we don’t show up for each other out “there”.
Maybe wherever there is a dearth of opportunity people will always tend toward competition over collaboration…easily fighting over resources instead of sharing them. Women, after all, have centuries old genetic imprints of having much less opportunity than the other half of the population.
Of course, it cannot be understated that motherhood can take you away from the greater world and efforts to improve it. Our own children fast become our ultimate priority, and I at least have surrendered much of my life to serving them, making activism exceedingly difficult. SO many mothers I know feel deeply passionate and urgent about protecting the planet, but it is all they can do to keep their children decently fed. We fall victim to the need for immediate presence, and funnily, most woo woo practices urge that conscious, “mindfulness” of right now. And yet, climate change asks us to see the invisible, to think waaaay ahead, to imagine what our children will be dealing with when they have children. It just isn’t possible to create a reparative and restorative culture without thinking ahead. So how oh how do we do that?!
On the line, mothers organize for planet protection, understanding the pressures and responsibilities that must dominate a mother’s life, and we step in to help each other constantly. This is evidenced weekly. I got to class last Friday without my computer charger, and another mother leapt to my assistance by running home and getting hers. This simple act of unsolicited help is a mini example of what I mean. We aren’t judged on the line for our forgetfulness, or our overwhelm, depressive episodes, or the need to check out. Instead we are buoyed and supported. Mothers give each other the benefit of positive regard. We know we each do our best in this very very mad world. So, making sure a mama can get to her kid’s soccer game is important to all of us.
One thing that has enabled this phenomenon is a shared agreement that a slow and steady pace is so much better than no pace. Even as extraction of planet resources feels frenzied, we continue on, refusing to be daunted because we invisibly hold hands across space between our own homes, for a greater home that is our togetherness. The Motherline is a map of sorts for how women can show up for other women, even as the world demands more time be spent on our own life and boxes. Being on the line means we have energetic support, emotional compassion, and genuine camaraderie. YOU are welcome here. And, if we can make the line long enough, we can surround the whole planet in protection, one hand hold at a time.