Someone mentioned mothering themself the other day—it was something they felt they were supposed to do because it had been suggested to them as a solution to not being mothered as in infant—but it wasn’t something they talked about in an excited tone—it was spoken in the flat, tired tone someone might use as they say, “I know, I know, I’m supposed to love myself,” like, Uh, if I could, I would.

There’s a French (of course) movie called Shortbus, and it starts with a man giving himself a blowjob. He completes the deed, and it’s a shocking, lonely, sad scene. I would like to argue that telling someone to mother themselves is comparable to telling someone to give himself a blowjob.

Before you go off the rails, I’m not saying mothers give their children blow jobs, at least not the mothers I know. I am saying that a blowjob is so intimate, so relational, and it is ultimately about giving and receiving which is not an activity for one, and neither is being mothered.

To mother is to bring up (a child) with care and affection. To mother is to give birth to. Another definition is to treat someone with care and kindness as though they were a small child.

I could do all those things for myself. I could treat myself with care and affection. I could give birth to myself in a reborn kind of way. I could treat myself with care and kindness as though I were a small child.

It sounds lovely and lonely. Like getting all dressed up and going to a party of one.

To mother suggests relationship, and yes, obviously you have an important relationship with your self, but, I want to argue, it’s not as your own mother.

To mother yourself means there is no space for a mother. Great, you might say, because I don’t have one. But if you are your own mother, you are the sound of one hand clapping.

What is the sound of one hand clapping? is a koan—it’s supposed to disrupt your mind, derail your brain, and so it presents an impossible riddle so your spinning noggin comes to a skidding stop and attains enlightenment

I have a secret theory that babies who are abandoned by their mothers attain enlightenment because the babies see they can survive the loss of the self, but because the rest of the world does not have the same vision, these babies are seen as orphans with no special boon to bring to the world—they are seen as creatures in need of shelter and parenting.

Being one way and being perceived in another is crazy making. And you wonder why so many adopted people are addicts or suffer from chronic illnesses! They can’t see themselves mirrored by the world around them, including their family. They are one hand clapping.

How can one hand mother itself?

Almost every mother will tell you that two hands rarely feel like enough at the end of the day.

One hand to cradle the baby, the other to soothe it.

I am not an island of one. I can’t do it all.

I need.

I need.

I need.

And to take away our ability to need, to question our cry for mothering, is to play small, to hide, to say everything’s fine when really the world is on fire.