Letting Go: Demeter.

By Sil Reynolds

Those of you who have attended our 13-15 year old workshop know that we read the ancient Greek Demeter/Kore/Persephone myth during that workshop. In late May and early June of this year, Eliza and I had an opportunity to travel to Greece because I was teaching a workshop there. One afternoon, we made a 'pilgrimage' to Eleuisis (now called Elifsina) which is not far from Athens. We were very disappointed to discover that it was closed that afternoon. This was a 'letting go' moment-- here we were next to, but not able to visit the ruins of the great temple to Demeter and Persephone. Three thousand years ago this was the most celebrated temple in all of Greece- the site of the Eleusian Mysteries. In this photo, Eliza is comforting me as I 'let go' of our dream to visit the site, at least for this trip, and maybe forever.                          

It has been a year of letting go for this Demeter as my Kore, Eliza, went off to her first year at college and returned as Persephone. I want to share one of my letting go experiences with you. Eliza had been at college for over a month and sometimes it felt like an eternity. I was feeling pretty sad and there were moments when I felt, well, Demeter-like-desolate. I would wander into her room half-expecting her to still be there chatting on her phone with one of her friends or doing her homework or greeting me with the news of her day and it felt eerily empty and quiet. These 'Demeter moments' made me feel as though me 'earth' was bare of vegetation. Was this the winter of my life?                                        

Hardly.

I also felt happy and relieved. Happy because Eliza was doing so well. My colt with her long shaky legs, was not only standing, she was off at a brisk gait and finding her own way. She loved her dorm, her roommate and her new friends (from all over the world!) and all of her classes. She went to African, Salsa, Ballroom and Swing dance classes and in one week she joined groups such as Students Against Human Trafficking and Students for Choice. What more could a mother want?

I was relieved because I am essentially "done" as a mother, and it was a job well done. I marveled at Eliza's self-sufficiency. She opened a checking account and budgeted her own hard-earned money to cover most of her extra expenses.  She alternated cooking in her dorm with eating at the cafeteria (she cooks well and loves learning about nutrition and going to the farmers' market on campus). She worked well with her adviser and searched out an academic dean who helped her to make key choices about her academic plan for the year.

Which brings me to the issue of Demeter cutting the cord. I confess I was a "helicopter" parent on one particular occasion. If you don't know this term, it is a pejorative expression that refers to over-parenting, a hovering over your daughter's every move in a way that is not healthy for her development or for your relationship. Lisa Belkin has an excellent blog on the topic that also conveniently helps me to not be totally self-deprecating. It is called "In Defense of Helicopter Parents".

I am 'supposed to be' the totally together mom, who teaches mother/daughter workshops, and never screws up. Wrong. Fact is, I found myself, unconsciously and inappropriately, emailing the academic dean that Eliza met with and found was so helpful, to thank her for mentoring my daughter. Eliza was pissed and rightly so. She was angry that I had gotten involved in her budding relationship with this woman. "Mom", she said. "I am an adult now, making adult relationships on my own. I don't need or want you to get involved."

In that moment, I knew that she at least had cut the cord. I was so proud of her for knowing and setting this boundary and for calling me out. I owned it 100%, apologized, was forgiven and we moved on. When we got off the phone, I felt Demeter's desolation again. I realized I had to let go of my old role more completely and I felt so empty and so sad. Who was I without being involved in my daughter's life and community? I worked with this question and inner reality all day and channeled my feelings into a productive reordering of my writing room, the room that I am writing my side of Eliza's and my mother/daughter book. It was invigorating and hopeful and I found myself moving into some kind of new and creative identity that is still forming.

That night, Eliza called unexpectedly from the laundry room of her dorm. She had a quick question about her light and dark color loads and wanted some mother advice. She was cheerful and working on her homework, in between loading laundry. Persephone had "returned" from the Underworld, ever so briefly. It was delightful. Truth is, I have been getting used to her "comings and goings" for many years. Since middle school and certainly through high school, I could find her in her bedroom but she was already "gone", even at home. With each year, she became more and more independent and more involved with her peers- and if I am honest with myself, her going off to college is not that different. I have alternated mourning and celebrating her independence for many years.

It is a work in progress, this letting go of my mother role. I find that it takes time and patience and wisdom. I suspect this is something akin to an organic process, something that Demeter, the goddess of the Earth would know and understand. She might speak metaphorically by teaching about the cycles of the seasons. Demeter might teach me that often, and throughout our lives, both Eliza and I will find that the umbilical cord joins us up again ("comings"), and then needs to be cut ("goings"). That night I lit a candle to this earth goddess and asked for her continued help in letting go of my old role. Eliza has returned from the Underworld and is back this summer, no longer the maiden Kore, but the Queen Persephone. I celebrate her new role.