Mother, the Mystery of Creation

It was an honor to give my own mother a Chi Nei Tsang session. She lay on my massage table with her abdomen exposed, offering herself to me in love and trust. As I explored her umbilicus and felt her breath deep under my hands, she looked up at me and said, "You are massaging where you came from."

It was a profound, timeless moment. I had been planted there inside her as a seed is the potential blossom. She prayed me into being. She nourished and breathed me. I saw through her eyes the beauty of the world and her voice soothed and comforted me. Her heart was mine until she helped me grow my own. She blessed my soul.

Great Mother, you are the mystery of creation. You hold the light and darkness, birth and death. We your children are the blossom of your seed, the fruition of your imagination. We bow to you in gratitude and blessing.

Mom's 94 now, still vital, and we are best of friends. She comes to stay with us in Santa Fe a month every summer. Sometimes I feel like her mother, holding her frail body as she shrinks back to the womb of the mystery. She shares her grace and wisdom. When people ask her about the challenges of aging, she replies, "Look at the alternative."

When I had the vision for How Do You Pray? Mother was moved by the idea, because she always embodied love and kindness as her religion. She gave me yet another gift, her musings on how she prays:

Millie Yacoboni

As I awaken each morning I am surprised and happy because I am still here after 92 years. I talk to God, or sometimes to Mother Nature, or to Creator of All Things. It's all the same to me, but mostly to God because way back then it was only God. I give thanks for another day on this beautiful and mysterious planet.

My first prayer is for my children and grandson. Thank you God for their very good health and may they always have love, compassion and laughter.

Throughout the day I give thanks for many, many things as they happen.

I ask for help as I hear a crying, hurting dog. As I hear and see threats of an oncoming storm. As I hear of a sick neighbor, and as I drive by a curled-up man lying in the street.

My day is filled with prayers.

Each night I sit on my bed and give thanks for the past day. I ask for these people-killing wars to end and for the military to return home to loved ones, and I pray they can live a good healthy life regardless of the horrible memories of war. And please, God, may we not have future wars.

I pray at this time especially, may our politicians be more worthy of the titles and positions they hold.

I feel each contributor to this book is a link in the chain of world love--a chain with no end.

Many thanks, and always, my unconditional love.