Seed Saving: A Story of Motherhood

Florida Cotton and Loofa Seeds

Nature is cyclical and all things within it experience cycles.

In college my uncle sat me down and asked me, “What do you want to do after you graduate?” I replied matter-of-factly that I wanted to be a mother. I think I surprised him, but I could not then and cannot now think of a better job or purpose in life than to raise your own child. I got married at 26 thinking I was well on my way to fulfilling this dream. Six years later I was getting a divorce and we had no children.

When you get divorced there is a certain amount of mourning for the failed relationship, however, what people do not mention is the mourning of a life you thought you were going to have. This mourning, for me at least, far outweighed the relationship itself. I had imagined birthing both a girl and a boy. We had named these future children as couples often do, but they never came into existence. I have been divorced several years now and this piece of mourning still lingers on sometimes engulfing me in sorrow. I felt that I lost a part of my soul, my femininity, and that I was less of a woman for not yet having given birth.

Sitting on the ground I bend over a branch of Florida cotton ready to be harvested for seeds. Gripping the cotton with the tips of my fingers I wiggle the seeds free and gently pull away the softest cotton that engulfs each seed. I place them in a small pot and begin on the next seed, pulling and separating. I sit there for some time, mind focused on what feels like seeds being born unto this world. When finished, I have a small handful of seeds that I close my fingers around and bring up to my chest to place over my heart.

Seeds are fascinating when you acknowledge that they represent both life and death. They are embryos full of life and potential, waiting to be planted and nurtured by both our hands and Mother Nature, a type of coparenting so they may reach their glorious prime when their fate will be decided. They will be harvested for their flowers or fruits, their leaves cut and eaten, they may even be used for medicinal purposes, or they may be left to their own devices and complete their life cycle. We, as humans, are often afraid of the end of our life cycles but it is as natural as the seasons when the cold winter air turns the leaves brown and then falls off the tree, waiting for the return of life in Spring.

In my journey, or transitional cycle, over the past several years I have learned about divine femininity. We each have both male and female aspects. I have been working on acknowledging my female side and the many ways it manifests. Femininity is creation and life. It is unconditional love and compassion. I ask, in what other ways may I reclaim my essential femininity? I create educational workshops with the intention to share compassion and connection. I finally have the opportunity to have my own garden, an educational space where I can learn and experiment along with sharing it with others for their own learning experiences. These things fulfill me, but it is with collecting seeds and planting them that I can fulfill my need to be a mother, to nurture and coparent with the ultimate Mother and Creator.

I hold these seeds close to my heart. These are my seeds. I whisper a prayer for their wellbeing and place them in a safe container until they are ready for “birth”.