I love her so much! And, I miss her. But, I know I will see her again because life is in many ways a circle.
She calls me Reverend Mother. She came to me during a time of great loss and great pain about seven years ago. I will call her Mara.
Barely five feet tall, Mara had just gone through the kind of betrayal that threatens to pull us under and never let us rise again. Both her employer and her lover had turned on her.
Mara was not openly gay at that time but had lived as a bisexual in her previous life in another city and state. A woman of many natural and spiritual gifts, great depth and love, she had come to her new job to serve others from the heart. She had placed her new boss on a pedestal and was, perhaps, a little bit in love with her. (You know the kind of idolization that comes naturally when we think someone is the cat’s pajamas?)
Mara worked long hours, was always cheerful, and made many sacrifices to do the best job she knew how. When others tried to disuade her from being so selfless, she heard and answered the high call of self-less-ness.We worked for the same company. It took her new boss less than two years to betray her. And, in fact, Mara was suffering betrayal in her department at the very same time that two women decided that I needed to be cleared out of my own department. We were on parallel tracks of betrayal and trauma.
But, we did not come together at that time. We knew each other but we did not spend quality time together until a year or so after our traumas.
The first time she came over to my house, I served her herbal tea and I gave her a hand massage with warm oil. We made our confessions and shared the absolution that is available to us all by God's grace. That was the first time she called me Reverend Mother. The name stuck.
Mara described my spirit as that of a healer, a wounded healer and that of a Reverend Mother. She said this meant that I knew how to preserve what I was given. I was able to defend myself and others and knew how to fight for those that were entrusted to me.
At first, I pushed this appellation away. But then as the circle of women that I began to be a part of grew and our different roles emerged, Reverend Mother began to make sense to me. Reverend Mother. Tend to, care for, look after, protect with reverence. That is how I understand this title.
Mara and I came together at various times since our first meeting. I have had her alone for tearful sessions in my meditation room where we prayed and I practiced Reiki on her. Sometimes we simply sat in silence. She said my house (and certainly my meditation room) and my garden were healing places.
She with her (then) new partner came over for cook-outs and holiday gatherings in the ensuing years. She danced at our youngest daughter’s wedding. Mara regained her health and her sense of worth. She is a vibrant woman. Mara continues to call me Reverend Mother.
Mara now lives in a distant city in an eastern state of the United States. She continues to wrestle with her imperfections as we all do (if we are lucky enough to not be paralyzed by them). She had returned to school and is now working as a counselor who empowers other women who have suffered various forms of trauma. She *is* a wounded healer. This I know from my own experience. Because, as much as I may have helped her, she brought forward in me a mothering agency in which I have developed a strong confidence. Mara, I bless you and Godde blesses you...And, I thank you.
