Ancient Hands
AUDIO | 8 MINUTES
Connect you and your babe with those
who are missing, or far away.
Through an age old nursery rhyme, you’re invited to consider the galaxy of people who surround you and your child.
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Despite time and distance, this audio track guides you as you draw people close.
As you reflect on those who are far away, or those who have passed, we invite you to be gentle with yourself.
Breathe. Pause. Connect.
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Bring your open hands and open heart to this quiet moment with your babe.
At one point you will be invited to make a diamond shape with your fingers to look at your baby through- focussing your gaze.
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Inspired by a quote from adrienne maree brown and voiced by Miranda Tapsell, this tactile moment between carer and baby draws on the wisdom of Ancestors present in both infant and adult form.
“We are born into someone else's hands, and there's interdependence at the start.”
When you are settled, with your baby on a mat or in a resting position, press play on the audio below.
“We are born into someone else's hands, and there's interdependence at the start.”
- adrienne maree brown
My Grandma Dulcie was around half my size. Towards the end of her life, I visited her and held her small hands in my large ones. She loved big conversations and today we spoke about the miracle of being alive, and she smiled as I traced the pathway that our blood travels around our bodies. Her memories were slippery by that time, and she held a deep preference for conversations that allowed her to dwell in the present moment.
I looked down at our hands together. I knew her hands so well, the way that her little fingers bent slightly outwards, her skin was shiny and stretched and her wedding ring was worn. Those hands had held mine when I was first born, had guided mine across a busy street on a secret trip to the lolly shop and had longed for mine when I lived on the other side of the world from her. Those hands were never to hold my own children in them.
It feels like the cyclical nature of life comes into sharper focus when you become a parent, and as I age, I see her hands in mine now. The constellation of sun spots, the looser skin and the more distinct lines. I see her hands in mine as I change nappies, zip up onesies and wipe away tears. I see her hands in mine when I turn pages of a beloved book, and slice fruit and run the bath. While she may not have held my children, I see her hands in mine as I do and I am reminded that her love helped to form me and continues to bless my life and the lives of my descendants.
— Sarah Lockwood
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