Some thoughts on Mother's Day, 2024

Thanks to all who have expressed interest (or registered) for this year’s writing & meditation retreat on Monhegan. Only a few spaces remain for The Faraway Nearby: stillness, story, sea. I hope you can join us in September, too!

Good morning and Happy Mother’s Day.

On this 33.5 billion dollar American “holiday,” I’m readying myself for the myriad of images that will flood my social media stream, the idealization of motherhood that continues to carry on. I’m not criticizing these photographs per se, and I certainly have more than a few of my own, but these photographs are not the only representation and certainly not the only truth. Violet reminded me of this the other day when she presented me with this (gently nibbled) picture that captures the messy, imperfect reality of my own lived motherhood.

At the time, I must have believed I was channeling my inner Sally Mann rather than noticing my firstborn could be in jeopardy of sliding off the couch! Oh, Evan, my apologies. As with everything, I can only do my best until I can do better.¹

On this May 12, 2024, I’m equally reminded of Julia Ward Howe’s original intention, calling for a “Mother’s Day for Peace” dedicated to the celebration of peace and the eradication of war. As expressed in what has come to be called her “Mother’s Day Proclamation” from 1870, Howe felt that mothers should gather to prevent the cruelty of war and waste of life since mothers of mankind alone bear and know the cost.² On a day when much of the world is on fire, may we consider mothers everywhere who are living this reality.

I’m approaching today through my own lens of bittersweetness—Noah’s move to Brooklyn is finally happening. On Tuesday, he’ll come over for dinner, sleep in his old room one last time, then I’ll send him off in the morning with a double batch of brown butter chocolate chip bark packed in a tin. I couldn’t be more excited for his next chapter, and I’ll miss him very much.

What I’ve come to know for certain, and what no one tells you, is that becoming a mother means becoming familiar with being in a perpetual state of loss. From the moment a child slips from the mother’s body, so too begins the act of physical separation: a series of sighs and farewells to be repeated again and again: first steps, first day of school, first crush, first heartbreak.

And yet, there is also a tethering in all of these firsts, just as the tide is pulled and teased back to the shore. Mothering embodies an inherent losing and coming back—of finding one’s way in the ebb and flow. It is the intuitive knowing that the umbilical cord will be severed, and that your child will tenderly be returned into your arms.

We don’t raise our children to remain small and rooted. Rather, the greater accomplishment is to be part of the nurturing process and allow them the spaciousness to find, receive, and follow their own light.

Mother is both a noun and a verb. It is the act of discovering what cares for you and takes care of you and what you care for in return³ because motherhood is nothing short of an extraordinary creative collaboration: it’s the process of being and becoming yourself in relationship to another—it’s as empowering as it is humbling. But it is the practice I am grateful to return to again and again.⁴

Wishing all a wonderful day ~ thanks for reading!

Brown Butter Chocolate Chip Cookie Bark

9 T cold unsalted butter, cut into tablespoons

⅓ cup raw sugar

⅓ cup packed dark brown sugar

2 t vanilla extract

1 t kosher salt

½ t baking soda

1 c all-purpose flour

½ cup  semisweet chocolate chips

Position a rack in the center of the oven and preheat to 350°F. Line a large, rimmed baking sheet with parchment paper

• In a small skillet or saucepan with a light-colored interior, melt 6 T of the butter over medium heat. Once melted, cook the butter, stirring constantly until the milk solids are deep golden brown, about 3 minutes.

• Transfer the brown butter to a large bowl, then add the remaining 3 tablespoons (42g) cold butter and stir until melted.

• Add the sugars, then whisk until well combined, about 30 seconds. Add the vanilla and salt and whisk until smooth.

• Whisk in the baking soda. Fold in the flour with a spatula and mix until a few streaks of flour remain. Fold in the chocolate chips and keep stirring until no streaks of flour remain and the chocolate is evenly distributed.

• Transfer the mixture to the prepared pan and press the dough into a thin, even round, about the thickness of the chocolate chips. You should have a roughly 10-inch round cookie, but it doesn't need to be perfect. If the mixture is crumbly around the edges, press the edges together with your fingertips.

• Bake until golden brown, crisp, and firm to the touch, 18 to 20 minutes.

• Let cool completely on the pan, then use your hands to break the bark into pieces. Store in an airtight container at room temperature for up to 4 days.

this recipe is minimally adapted from Yossy Arefi’s Snacking Bakes

THREE SPOTS REMAIN ~ JOIN ME ON RETREAT!

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The Faraway Nearby: stillness, story, sea

September 18-22, 2024

Monhegan, Maine

what’s your story? it’s all in the telling… . .

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The Faraway Nearby: stillness, story, sea

If you have ever wished to experience the magic of Monhegan Island, this retreat is your invitation. With Rebecca Solnit’s poetic memoir as our guide, we will write through the island's topography and the geography of the senses to embody our storied experiences. 

The Faraway Nearby is an intimate retreat for women of all ages longing to learn or return to the practices of writing and meditation. There will be ample time to search for sea glass and hike the trails through Cathedral Woods to the rocky shores of Pebble Beach. Special guests will share their own creativity as another opening to our own. Through writing, ritual, and restorative yoga, we will meditate, celebrate, and honor the variations of our authentic voices, as can only happen when you find yourself on this artist's island 10 miles out to sea.

Monhegan taught me that all I need is me

Val G

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thanks for reading ~ I’m grateful for your readership. if something I wrote speaks to you, I’d love to know! click the ♥️, leave a comment, or share this post with a friend.

1. I am equally aware and am no stranger to the many ways Mother’s Day is fraught with mixed emotions—of the complicated and contradictory relationships we may have with our past and present. There are those among us for whom Mother’s Day will never be a blessing.

2. https://www.almanac.com/content/history-mothers-day

3. Rebecca Solnit

4. This morning’s writing is adapted from my 2021 ROC the MIC reading, Hochstein Theater, Rochester, NY