The Power of the Lullaby
Written reflections for Mother’s Day — 11 May 2025 Yesterday was Mother’s Day — and with this commemoration of Mothers and Motherhood, I want to feel into the power of the lullaby: what it means for motherhood, and what it truly is. The power of the lullaby. There are a few threads I want to explore: Discovering the power of the lullaby as a motherDiscovering its power in labourAnd witnessing how it settles the nervous system — not just for the baby, but for everyone When I say “lullaby,” I don’t just mean Hush, Little Baby or Rock-a-bye Baby — though those songs have their place. It’s more than that. Having had four children, I found myself — again and again — in the darkness and stillness of the night, alone with my baby. In those moments, I had to draw on an inner strength, very similar to how I had to tap into that inner strength in labour. There are times when every mother reaches that place — where it feels like you almost can’t go on, yet there you are: rocking, walking, lying with, or feeding your baby. Deep presence is called for. I believe that the essence of the lullaby was born from those moments. It’s the rhythm, the repetition — that rocking motion, both sonic and physical — that makes a lullaby so powerful. Many are passed down through generations and across cultures. They’re usually very simple. Like the Zulu lullaby Tula Baba. Just Tula Baba, Tula Baba… over and over again. It’s not about the complexity. It’s about the transmission. The lullaby is drawn from the place where you feel you have nothing left to give. It’s from that well that so much of motherhood is sourced. And it is a deep, incredible power to be able to tap into that. In labour, I found something similar. Each of my births taught me something different, but in all of them, my voice became a tool. A resource. With my fourth birth, it wasn’t just a tool — it became a channel. When a surge came and I fully opened to it, a sound emerged that was high, pure, and clean. I wasn’t using my voice just to express; I was letting something move through me. It became a channelling of life force. I’ve sung my whole life. It’s always been a way of expressing myself. But singing after birth — after having resourced myself through voice in labour and then using that same voice to connect with my children — something changed. I no longer feel like I’m singing from myself. I feel like I’m singing through myself. That I’m resourcing from the infinite. That’s what labour teaches. What motherhood teaches. That we can only go so far within ourselves. There comes a point where we must draw from beyond — from life force, God, Great Spirit… Now, when I sing, I don’t feel like I’m the one doing it. My voice is the instrument, my body the tool, but what’s moving through is life itself. That is the power of the...
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