Calling Mother

Calling Mother
 

"Mama!"  It's the first word a child says.  And, it doesn't matter what country the child is in.  For the baby-babble term for mother is the same in China, Poland, Africa, Peru, Russia or the US. When a baby wants something it cries out for Mama.  When it's anxious it sounds Mama.  When it's happy it beams Mama.  For the child, Mama is the center of its world.

On a recent foray to the grocery store I was watching a year old baby interact with its mother.  The baby was content to chew on a toy, but every so often she looked up to insure that connection with her mom was still there, by saying, "Mama!"  Each time, her smiling mom bent down to the child replying, "Yes, Emma" which elicited a giggle from the baby.

It was a simple interaction, but one that caught my attention.  What was this gentle checking in with mom?  What memories or needs were being activated in the baby?  And why was the mother being summoned and not others around the baby? I recalled the teaching of a Sufi mystic.  He said look beyond what was appearing and you would find what was actually transpiring.  So I did.

What was appearing?  A baby was periodically calling to its mother who was answering it.  But what was transpiring?  It was trust.  The mother was the source of the baby's well-being.  The mother was the individual with whom the baby identified, called it "Mama" and she trusted that Mama would hear and tend to her needs. But something else was transpiring.  The baby's connection with the mother was a metaphor of humanity's connection with source.   

Somewhere between childhood and becoming an adult many have forgotten how to Trust in the Mother Source.  They've also forgotten how to contact it.  Sadly, when we most need it, they've forgotten how to contact Her.  This disconnection is especially true given the nightly news barrage of misery around the world.  On an evening walk my neighbor commented that everything she saw on the news was so upsetting it was making her sick to watch it. I asked her if she could do anything about what she saw on TV.  She didn't think so.  I suggested she pray for everything to work out.  She thought about it and said, "I forgot I could do that."  

There is great healing in Trusting. It's an emotion that causes us to believe things will work out and get better.  It empowers us, helping us to feel safe no matter what we're experiencing in life.  Trust teaches us that it's going to be better in the morning.  So when we see these horrific things on TV that inscribe fear or pain in our hearts, we can Trust in the Divine Mother's care.

The great Bodhisattva Quan Yin, Mother of Compassion, gave up nirvana until all her children were saved.  She is the ultimate "Mother of the Universe" or "Mama" that we can call and who promised to hear our cries.  This Great Mother said no matter the trial or tribulation, if her children called her she would take the form needed and come to their aid.  And so the stories of her help are documented all over the world.

So when you're watching the nightly news, or see something that distresses you on TV or Facebook, or anywhere you go, think about "Calling Mother."  She said she would hear every cry.  You can Trust that promise and for that matter, Trust that everything will work out.  For as we look at what is appearing, something much greater is transpiring.  Behind it all, the Divine Mother is working her promise.  It may take a tad longer than we think it should, but Mama hears our prayers!

Jo Mooy - November 2014

 

 

Where the Water Meets the Sky

Where The Water Meets The Sky

   

While in a business meeting fourteen years ago a call came in telling me he was born. Breaking speed limits across three states, the two-hour drive took me to the hospital where I saw him in person for the first time. When his mother was a few months pregnant with him, I'd seen him as a spark of light on my bedroom wall quite a few times. I would hear a delightful humming sound in the wee hours of the night, open my eyes, and see this spark of light dancing on the walls. I knew who he was even before she knew it was a him.  At the hospital, he was wrapped up in a blue and white flannel blanket. I checked his tiny hands, no bigger than my thumb, and wondered what this 'crystal boy,' born in the last year of the 20th century, would create with those hands. What type of person would he become?

Hand in hand in his toddler years, he delighted in telling me stories about butterflies and where they came from. No pupa and larvae science for him. Butterflies came from a forest far away that up in the sky where tiny fairy people lived. In the sweet way he said it I was sure he'd visited that place not that long ago. It was the start of our many unconventional conversations together.

When he was six I watched him standing on the beach. As the waves broke around his ankles his outstretched arms made gentle flying and turning gestures. After fifteen minutes of watching, I came up behind him and said, "It's magic isn't it?" With great solemnity he asked me, "Do you think everything goes away where the water meets the sky?" Knowing he'd probably come from there before his birth I answered, "I think it's where our souls go!" Still standing in place but allowing his hands to fly he said, "Yeah, they do!" I sensed he remembered so I hugged him. Always remember, you're my 'best boy' I told him. "I know." he said.

As he grew older his gentle nature played out. He was always protective of his younger brother. If cookies were being handed out, he always took one for his brother. If a game was planned he made sure both of them were included. The protectiveness extended to his entire family. I played 'Nerf' touch football with him and his brother in the front yard. The younger brother was a competitive natural athlete in many sports so addressed this light game like he would a championship match. That is until he was told "Don't hurt the grannies!"

He's sensitive, caring, and empathic. He's an artist, a writer, and a singer. When he looks at you there's a deep wisdom in one so young. He works quietly by himself or with measured involvement in groups. He talks with few words, but when he has something to say, one listens. He creates magical virtual cities on his laptop, demonstrating concern that water and the air remain pure while describing how neighbors and countries can work easily with one another.

At his middle school graduation in June, the boy I'd last seen at Thanksgiving was now a full head taller than me. His voice had become deeper. But his sweet gentleness was still evident. Instead of running into my arms as he'd done as a little one, he strode towards me with a big welcoming smile and a magical hug. He had become a young man. More so when he kicked off the ceremony by welcoming the parents, visitors and dignitaries on behalf of his graduating class.

From what I've witnessed during his 14 years, he's part of a new generation of gifted souls now on the planet. They're called the Crystal Children. They are highly creative, empathetic, genuinely loving, trusting, and intuitive enough to understand the unconscious motives of others. They stand independently, yet operate in groups towards a goal. They have chosen a difficult yet exciting time to be here. During their cycle on earth they'll set the tone of moderation by neutralizing harsh or radically opposing factions played out in the public arena. And, they will plant the seeds of tolerance in all of humanity. It's what they came to do.

So what will he become or what will he do with his life? It's not yet clear. But this I know. Of all the traits of a Crystal Child he displays that of a 'peacemaker' the most. That quality was brought from the place where the water meets the sky. It's evident in his gentle dealings with others. It's in his presence that takes in his surroundings, without being overbearing. He's gracious and never resorts to anger - all traits that will serve him in this new emerging epoch.

In the sixties the baby boomers sent out a stirring call for peace and universal love. It was heard where the water meets the sky. Then fifty years later these Crystal Children souls began to incarnate with those ideals. They are here now as the grandchildren of the Baby Boomers. Born of our aspirations, they became the ones we wished we had become. And they will set the stage for our return as their great grandchildren, based on the work they do during their time on earth. Stating with us and now them, the cycles continue moving us towards our spiritual destiny.

 

 

Jo Mooy - September 2013