Gratitude to My Mother – Who Carried Me Without Holding Me

She did not raise me in her arms.
She raised me in silence.
She didn’t shape me through stories.
She shaped me through stillness.

From the moment I arrived, something in her broke…
but she still made room for me.

She Carried Me… While Her Body Trembled

When I entered her, I entered like fire into still water.
She didn’t reject me- her body simply reacted to the force I brought.
The universe placed me in her belly with a blueprint of elevation.
And her body, like the Earth, cracked – but never let go.

She was not ready for what entered her.
Not because of weakness, but because of the sensitivity she carried in every cell.

And yet… she didn’t refuse the mission.
She accepted the pregnancy, even when her body was not in alignment with my frequency.
She fell into a depression she could never explain.
But she never gave me back to the world.
She held me through the imbalance… and allowed the journey to continue.

She Didn’t Understand Me… But She Protected Me

I had no emotional bond with her for decades.
She didn’t ask me what I felt. She didn’t know how to read my mind.
And I didn’t know how to feel her pain.
But I know this now:
She didn’t need to understand me to protect me.

She remained close – even when I was far.
She never asked me to become someone else.
She just wanted me to be alive.

She didn’t measure success.
She didn’t ask how much I earned.
She asked if I had eaten.
She asked if I was well.
She waited… not to be proud, but to be present.

She Loved Without Expectation – Without Calculation

She never counted my awards.
She never listed my efforts.
She never asked if the world respected me.
She just made sure I survived.

While other mothers carried pride,
She carried protection.
While others looked outward,
She looked inward – never leaving the space of her family.

She had no desire to go anywhere.
She found meaning in her small circle – grandchildren, her children, and her house.
She didn’t chase appearances. She didn’t chase the community.
She chased nothing – except the well-being of the souls around her.

I Didn’t Feel Her… Until I Understood Her

For 35 years, she was a shadow behind the curtain.
Present, but unreadable.
Close, but unconnected.
I didn’t feel her love, because I didn’t recognize its form.

But then, the universe showed me the story I was living.
It showed me the reason for her silence.
The reason for her emotional fog.
The reason I couldn’t bond – was because her body was the first to receive my frequency.
And she absorbed what I didn’t yet understand about myself.

She became the lemon in the milk.
Not because she was sour, but because I was fermenting something too intense to hold.

She Is Still Feeding Me… In Her Way

Today, on my birthday, I didn’t go to a temple.
I went to see her.

She offered me food, snacks, and tea – not as a ritual, but as her way of saying:
“You are still my child. You are still mine.”

She is not the mother who taught me how to live.
She is the mother who gave me space to live.

She is not the mother who led my mind.
She is the mother who bore my force, even without understanding it.

My mother didn’t raise me like the others.
She didn’t hold my dreams. She didn’t push my ambitions.
She held my blueprint – in silence, in shock, and in survival.

She is not just the beginning of my story.
She is the ground I still return to,
Even when no one else sees her.

Thank you, Amma.
You are not the voice I followed.
You are the silence I was born from.