Skip to main content


 Motherhood has changed me. It has taught me more than any other single thing - about Creativity, about Time and about Divinity...

Creativity is very important to me. It is water and air to me. If I can’t create, I’m like a fish out of water and, even in the constant turnover of mothering days, I need time out, to paint and to write. 
~But, what I’ve also learned, is that 
motherhood is quintessentially creative.~ 

Art by Kat Ward
First, it creates a brand new life, then, it births brand new moments, perspectives, lessons. It helps us - parents and children - to see the world in new ways and to connect with the Creator, within and without. Motherhood has helped me to see all sorts of things in a new, Creative light.

Then, there’s Time. The passing of time, the juggling of Time and the dawning realisation that Now is all we have. Now. Because every moment is Now. Tomorrow, today will be in the past and only “Now” will remain. One day, I will be old and my children will be elsewhere and then, THAT will be “Now”. This is the lesson I’m learning: To be here, now.

And there’s the lesson of Divinity - of Spirit. My heart strings are interwoven with those of my children - my babies will always be a part of me... yet, I have to let go. My love for them is unconditional; I give them their lives, even as I recognise that in doing so, I’m letting go of pieces of my own heart. At the same time, we are forever connected and in giving away, I am gaining inestimable treasure. This is love. This is Divine.
Painting by Sunny K. Lee
Art by Katie M. Berggren


I have three tiny babies,
I love them dearly,
I fill their days with cuddles
and kisses and with ME;
I take them to the playground,
I traipse them round the town
and sing them lovely lullabies
as the sun goes down.
But recently, I’ve noticed,
they’re not around so much.
suddenly there’s space and time
for thoughts - and tea - and such.
I breathe the gentle silence,
enjoy Creative Space...
but there are times when I just miss
my babies, round the place.
I wouldn’t mind so much, I think,
if Time had played more fair -
but no, it seems no sooner born
than they’re no longer there.
I know the culprit, and approve -
I’ll play it by the rule
and know that it’s not terrible
to send them off to school...
But still, I see the memories,
and wonder when they passed,
turning babies into children -
and how it went SO FAST.

Art by Patti Windhorst

Ruth Calder Murphy is a writer, artist, music teacher, wife and mother living in London, UK. Her life is wonderfully full of creativity and low-level chaos. She is the author of one published novel, “The Scream,” several books of poetry and one or two as-yet unpublished novels. She is passionate about celebrating the uniqueness of people, questioning the unquestionable and discovering new perspectives on old wonders. She is learning to ride the waves that come along—peaks and troughs—and is waking up to just how wonderful life really is. You can visit Ruth and view more of her art on her website here, or on her Facebook page. Her latest book is available on Amazon here, and here

~If you are interested in seeing your poetry appear in this blog, or submitting a poem by a woman that has inspired you, please click here for submission guidelines. I greatly look forward to hearing from you!~ 


  1. Deeply moving...........the cycles of woman and motherhood........remaining centred in the union of sharing with the blessed experiences of being.......blessings and love Ruth ..........beautiful expression of Mothering and love.............


Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

I AM STILL HERE by Janavi Held


This was composed by a very gifted and beautiful soul: a regular contributor to our poetry project, and dear friend of mine, Janavi Held, whose life is gradually being taken from us by an incurable illness. She has been suffering from Complex Regional Pain Syndrome and Internal Adhesions for six painful years now, and neither her insurance nor the government healthcare will help her. She reaches out to us, her sisters, as a last plea. This is a poem she wrote yesterday on her birthday, in which she offers us the gift of her friendship. May it touch your generous hearts and inspire you to reach out to her in her plight.

Dear Friends,

The last time I was able to leave the house was by ambulance on my way to the hospital. After many long hours in the emergency room I was admitted and taken upstairs. After everyone left I sat on the hospital bed, knees to chest, bracing my body against the pain and trembling.

The light of this cold day was fading. I turned my eyes to the la…

IMAGINE A WOMAN by Patricia Lynn Reilly

This poem invites you to look upon yourself with loving kindness…
Gazing at your own true reflection, you will discover that everything you have longed for “out there” is already within you! I invite you to love your creativity fiercely. Faithfully plant seeds, allowing under-the-ground dormant seasons, nurturing your creative garden with love and gratitude. In the fullness of time, the green growing things thrust forth from the ground. It's a faithful, trustworthy process. AND it takes time and patience.  Blessed is the fruit of your creative womb! I invite you to trust your vision of the world and express it. With wonder and delight, paint a picture, create a dance, write a book, and make up a song. To give expression to your creative impulses is as natural as your breathing. Create in your own language, imagery, and movement. Follow no script. Do not be limited by the customary way things have been expressed. Your creative intuition is original. Gather all of life into your inner c…

DEPRESSION by Veronica Carpenter

Here goes my vulnerability A heart on a sleeve The typical person who looks at me May not see the same me that I live with daily The mind in the air, swirling with possibility When the darkness rallies/gathers/swirls When I am left to solitude This paper-thin garb unzips Here comes depression          
No I don’t want to advertise So flash a smile Those who are close get to see Through the veil, it’s really not that thick Circumstances in life like to stab at the rib Stumble, fall behind the door Shut out the world Feelings well and weigh down Strength hidden deep in the core So deep that sometimes it’s forgotten Here comes the darkness My old friend Sweeping through my every move  Doubts, fears, un-named masked men Oozing like honey, sticking to everything
Patience is required to get on this ride There is a cycle but its pattern is unknown Slowly my gift will unwrap itself Stay on the path Coming back to that which never truly left me Just laid sleeping out of exhaustion from the fight Dormant in winter…