My mother: Nurturer, Healer, Warrior, Goddess

I've always wanted to write about my mother. Initially, I'd wanted to create a picture storybook about her with sweet, poignant, little illustrations. She'd encouraged me to do so the day I had the idea.

Ammi, I call her, which means "mama" in Sinhala, her native language.

Whether it was for my education, physical health, mental wellbeing, personal development, creative endeavours, spiritual growth and everything else in between, Ammi always supported me in such a way that it felt like I was being wrapped in a giant, powerful, warm light that simultaneously pushed me forward and upwards. She has always been my biggest cheerleader. And she has always been her own biggest cheerleader, too. This is what she has taught me from the very beginning: self-love. Unconditional love to thyself and to everyone around you.

Ammi is pure unconditional love. Her stories of her early life and how she pushed and propelled herself to pursue her happiness and follow her dreams, despite the multitude of varying obstacles and challenges along the way. She pushed through with a clear vision of what she wanted in her mind.

She'd say, "I'd visualise everything. I didn't even realise I was manifesting my reality in the process. I hadn't become aware of that concept at such a young age. Yet there I was, visualising every single, little detail of my desired life, and sent so much love energy to that vision. I accepted it as my future, somehow it was going to happen."

Born in Sri Lanka in 1960, Ammi lived a relatively serene, sheltered life. My grandfather was a noble, kind man who ran a food/convenience store. He was a businessman but they lived a humble life. Grandfather and grandmother loved one another very much. Everything was relatively peaceful and I'd say that living in rainforest jungle on the outskirts of a village, in a massive villa house with a beautiful, lush garden would have been a pleasant way of living. There was a pond with lily pads and tropical fish, fruit trees everywhere. Life was good. The challenge was, however, that life as a girl in a country like Sri Lanka, especially in the 60's, 70's and 80's was not ideal; getting married was considered the only real aspiration for most young women. Unless you were highly academic and could successfully get into university. In Sri Lanka, entrance to university was considerably competitive. For many years, Ammi felt as though she wouldn't be able to succeed at either of those forced aspirations. At school, Ammi found that she didn't find it easy to become the studious genius she was so eager to be. This was primarily due to the fact that teachers during that time were quite frankly, abusive. They'd beat students just for not immediately understanding a mathematical equation, or writing with their left hand, or heaven forbid you demonstrated incorrected spelling. I can imagine the anxiety and trauma that would create within the inner psyches of most children. And on top of that, the students who had difficulty grasping subjects or comprehending things would simply be shunned and ignored. Not encouraged nor aided.

Ammi was a gentle soul, a soft, sweet angel being. She didn't receive the guidance and love she deserved at school and so she began to lose her confidence. Society was judgemental and harsh, and the environment around her seemed to continue in a frustratingly one-sided, one-dimensional manner. Anyone who chose to remain there through to adulthood would have to undoubtedly relinquish any real desire for things like individuality, eccentricity, freedom and abundance. One could only feel those particular vibrations when they were in amongst the nature, which was so pure and soothing, healing. Other than that, you were definitely living a life that was 'assigned' to you, fulfilling a basic role. Resources and facilities were limited and again, if you were an unmarried female, life was really hard.

However, an arbitrary feeling of confidence loss wasn't going to stop her. She kept on visualising her dream, which was a simple enough one at that - to move somewhere where there was an abundance of opportunities for everyone, to study something interesting to her, to work a job she enjoyed and live a comfortable life that was shielded from any external societal pressure.

After committing to a diploma in dressmaking and excelling in that, it wasn’t long until she realised that it was very near impossible to earn enough money to move overseas as a lone young woman. With no assistance from anyone, the only way out, it seemed, was patience until she met her husband.

For the sake of shortening this story, I’ll skip to the part where Ammi marries my father ('Thaththi' in Sinhala) in 1989. They ended up living in a countryside village where he worked as an electrical engineer at a factory. When Ammi became pregnant with my older sister in 1990, Thaththi decided that fulfilling Ammi’s dream of moving to a land of greater opportunity was truly the only option. Remaining in Sri Lanka didn’t feel right for two parents-to-be who valued the idea of giving their children the best life they could possibly offer. So, that year, he worked hard at his exams for a skilled migrant program that allowed him and his family to move to Australia. A whole year later, once my sister was born, he received his exams results: they were allowed to move to Australia. Ammi’s constant visualising, positive affirmations and optimistic outlook to life were about to really produce some fruit.

Ammi had never been to another country before, she was 31 years old. They arrived in Melbourne in August 1994, my sister was two and a half. Carnegie was their first home suburb, they found a small flat. St Vincent de Paul and garage sales helped them fill it with things they needed. Ammi always talks about how enthralled she was with the frosty Melbournian weather, the oak and cherry blossom trees lining the streets, the Victorian brick buildings. She often mentions how she would focus on gratitude and love, basking in the energy of someone who has been given the opportunity to live the life they always wanted and knew they deserved. It wasn’t easy, money was hard to come by at the beginning, and Ammi was constantly sacrificing her own needs for the sake of her loved ones.

The achieving of her dressmaking career goals was initially very high on a priority list and she had started taking action towards achieving them. After seeing an ad for a government funded dressmaking course in the city, she attended an interview. She was determined to get a fulfilling job, improve her English significantly and live a safe, happy life. My mother was always an elegant lady who really did respect herself. She wanted to actualise this somehow, feel it to her core. I guess in a way, old society was chiefly about a great career and a comfortable life. Life was simple back then.

At the interview, the interviewer had derisively specified that Ammi would not be allowed to take the course simply because she was a mother. The other students in the course were not yet mothers. They then slyly mentioned that if Ammi paid for the course upfront with her own money, she would be allowed to participate – nowadays, this kind of discrimination doesn’t occur. Crazy to think that in the 1990's, this was somewhat commonplace. Nevertheless, my parents didn’t have the funds for Ammi to pay them upfront and so her opportunity had been sabotaged… but Ammi didn’t give up.

Advancing to her next goal – improving her English – she started an English for Migrants course in Malvern. It was here that her confidence in herself was boosted. 90% of the students were older Russian women. They would huddle around Ammi and exclaim “Your English is so good! We prefer to sit with you than sit together with all the other Russian ladies. That way, our English will improve, too!”

Up until that day, Ammi’s confidence in her English skills was low due to the abusive environment of her education. Now she was really beginning to realise the depth of her potential.

She then went on to find a government funded commercial dressmaking course in Noble Park. The machinery was different but she was excited to learn something new. Though just as she started the applications, my father told her that she needed to stay home to look after the baby, as he had just been accepted into an IT course to heighten his employability. Once again, Ammi sacrificed her dreams. She knew this was but a temporary obstacle. I must try keep this story short but oh boy, there were many obstacles along the way. Ammi didn’t get to do everything the way she wanted to at the beginning. In 1996, I was born and she was studying and working throughout my whole early life. Thaththi worked fulltime and she was determined to be a supportive partner. She never wanted to be fully dependent. I have always admired her ambition and drive.

Whilst studying and working multiple jobs – including library studies, aged care and disability care work, she would carry baby me around and somehow manage to fulfil all her tasks and duties to utmost perfection, never a mistake - and balanced all that with teaching me how to read, write, count, sing, dance, create, swim by the age of four. By three years old, I was speaking so eloquently and expressively, thanks to my mother. I grew to cherish words and stories. My imagination was heavily encouraged. She loved helping me to enjoy learning. She’d deliver pamphlets for commission with me in the pram. Each letterbox we passed, she would count house numbers out loud with me. I happily excelled through school thanks to this gem.

My health was always a tad compromised as a kid. Ammi was determined to heal me. She is definitely a full-blown healer, through and through. Realising that conventional medicine was worsening my state, she turned to nature. I grew up learning about nature’s healing bounty, being fed lots of fruit and vegetables, herbal medicine and healthy breakfasts (normally brought to me in bed every morning). Imagine your mum making healthy yet tasty pancakes on most mornings, and seeing her literally glow from happiness as you gobble them down. Different tinctures and concoctions to help heal my woes. Singing and chanting as she held a glass of water, or sat by the bathtub I was in, to 'energetically program' the water to heal me (this is real stuff, very powerful, look it up!) I have endless memories of my mother being a cool, powerful yet so effortlessly humble, superwoman.

Exercise was important, too. I remember being a toddler, crawling around her legs whilst she did her aerobics exercises. Up until this day, and she is in her 60’s now, she exercises and does yoga every single day.

Each morning, she would rise at 5-6am and make breakfast for everyone, lunch for Thaththi to take to work, tea, do our laundry, clean the house, go to work, complete her course assignments, exercise, complete a very vigorous hygiene and self-care routine, spend quality time with me and my sister and make sure we had everything we needed emotionally, spiritually and materially. She completed each task with vivacity, cognizance, devotion and dedication. From infanthood onwards, I have memories of watching my mother be a perfectionist, but not in an over-the-top way at all. From her home, to her family, to her clothes, her hair, her handwriting, her crafts and creations, her work... I saw her as this otherworldly, perfect being of love and determination. Unmatched in her precision and mindfulness. Something about her immense ability to remain calm and positive through the storms, to always march on forward with new innovative ways of thriving, I really have always admired.

Gotta say, mum's my muse, inspiration, my soul sister.

Despite being 60, my mother's soul energy is that of a free-spirited youth. Her energy is endless, and she never hesitates to spread it out for others to feel her love and warmth. Always there to give others a helping hand. Always there to give you a back rub or a head scratch or a warm and loving hug. Need solid advice? She's there. Need to share a somewhat embarrassing secret with someone understanding? She's there. Need a pep talk or some words of motivation and encouragement to get up off your butt and do something great? She's there and she'll probably start helping you start the project with her own bare hands, straight away.

Ammi taught me how to love myself. I looked around me and saw that our society was not necessarily revolving around this concept. To love oneself was one thing, to be what everyone else expected you to be was another. Ammi taught me that it didn’t matter about external pressures, what mattered most was how I felt inside. As I grew up, our bond grew tighter and Mama’s wisdom expanded. As I learnt on my own, she instantaneously began to teach me about The Power of Now, the Power of the Subconscious Mind, the Universal Law of Attraction, Co-creating your reality with the Universe. My mother, along with all the other magnificent ways she has perpetually inspired and fascinated me, has taught me how powerful a human being really is. That we are all Spirits having a human experience, healers, nurturers, creators. That if you push through, with firm belief in yourself and enthusiasm – and of course, love, then you will always succeed and achieve all your dreams.

On that note, as I end this little story, I would like to mention a quote that another special Mother shared with me recently: "Enthusiasm is the baking powder of life. Without it, you are flat. With it, you will rise" ♡