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Being a Mother -Clara Scropetta

Aggiornamento: 31 mag 2021

I was born on a windy summer day. In the long sunny days, bathed by vigorous storms, the fruits ripen. Like the creatures we carry in our wombs, like the dreams we harbor within. Dreams are also the infinite mother cells that we women harbor since we were in the womb, and from which every month in the fertile age we choose a splendid egg. But it is not enough that you meet a crowd of sperm, they need to make it dance, and that there is one good enough, only then opens the doors and begins a fiery subdivision. The new creature continues to roll and dance until it finds, hopefully, a corner to its liking and continues to develop in maximum perfection. There in the perfumed amnion she receives everything, protected, lulled by movement, surrounded by intriguing noises and the light that filters through. There are incessantly small changes, which prepare for the great moment, in which everything lights up and the medicine flows freely. Sublime transcendence and great reward to meet the long-perceived smell and voice, to immerse yourself in the gaze of her that gives us life, to find a welcoming breast. Then, the well-deserved rest safe in the arms. How nice to live! What a blessing for humanity every creature who can savor this wonder, spared from all sacrilege. This is not the only way to be a mother. Being a mother is a disposition of mind, anyone can have it, at any age, with or without children. It means taking care of yourself, of Mother Earth, of every living form as a gift of life. Well before having a creature in my womb, I felt the urge to be a universal mother, to be next to the "mothers" and walk lightly, preserving my moral integrity. I don't know where I would have gone without the overwhelming experience of giving birth on my own. Maybe I would have been lost. When I was born I did not experience that vibrant intensity, but living it with my children I felt whole and made peace. I am reborn. I connect agin with the pain for what I had missed. Then nothing was the same as before. I opened up to the meeting. We remember in the summer to thank for the incredible opportunity to be alive and to be able to "say well"(maybe be well?). Being able to dream. Each dream is a child in the womb, each dream fulfilled a child in her arms. Let us let ourselves be carried away by the warm wind, nourished by the sun's rays, watered by the generous rains… we will see the fruits!

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