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delicious new poetry
Writing Prompts for Threshold Times
September 4, 2026
Writing Prompts for Threshold Times
September 4, 2026
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September 4, 2026
'come lie by me in the pasture' — poetry by Renee Kalagayan
September 3, 2026
'come lie by me in the pasture' — poetry by Renee Kalagayan
September 3, 2026
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September 3, 2026
'In this world I kept happening' — poetry by Oladejo Abdullah Feranmi
September 3, 2026
'In this world I kept happening' — poetry by Oladejo Abdullah Feranmi
September 3, 2026
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September 3, 2026
'the azaleas all make gruel out of me' — poetry by Anya Johanna DeNiro
September 3, 2026
'the azaleas all make gruel out of me' — poetry by Anya Johanna DeNiro
September 3, 2026
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September 3, 2026
'silk and rivers' — poetry by Zavi Kang Engles
September 3, 2026
'silk and rivers' — poetry by Zavi Kang Engles
September 3, 2026
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September 3, 2026
'death and a mountain view' — poetry by Emily Brandt
September 3, 2026
'death and a mountain view' — poetry by Emily Brandt
September 3, 2026
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September 3, 2026
'the incense of my bed chamber ' — poetry by Katja Jackson
September 3, 2026
'the incense of my bed chamber ' — poetry by Katja Jackson
September 3, 2026
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September 3, 2026
'bruises confettied as raspberries' — poetry Chelsea Fonden
September 3, 2026
'bruises confettied as raspberries' — poetry Chelsea Fonden
September 3, 2026
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September 3, 2026
'you were obsessed. a monster.' — poetry by Kathleen Hellen
September 3, 2026
'you were obsessed. a monster.' — poetry by Kathleen Hellen
September 3, 2026
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September 3, 2026
'Seas of her marooned organs' — poetry by Shon Mapp
September 3, 2026
'Seas of her marooned organs' — poetry by Shon Mapp
September 3, 2026
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September 3, 2026
'a ghost house of Sicily' — poetry by Edvige Giunta
September 3, 2026
'a ghost house of Sicily' — poetry by Edvige Giunta
September 3, 2026
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September 3, 2026
'Are the clouds full of well-water?' — poetry by Johanna E. Hall
September 3, 2026
'Are the clouds full of well-water?' — poetry by Johanna E. Hall
September 3, 2026
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September 3, 2026
'seals her-self in the confession box' — poetry by Spencer Keene
September 3, 2026
'seals her-self in the confession box' — poetry by Spencer Keene
September 3, 2026
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September 3, 2026
'bloody with sunset' — poetry by Will Cordeiro
September 3, 2026
'bloody with sunset' — poetry by Will Cordeiro
September 3, 2026
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September 3, 2026
'dream in locusts' — poetry by Vi Ly
August 15, 2026
'dream in locusts' — poetry by Vi Ly
August 15, 2026
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August 15, 2026
'plastic chair, watermelon, generator exhaust, benzene' — poetry by Hana Saad
August 15, 2026
'plastic chair, watermelon, generator exhaust, benzene' — poetry by Hana Saad
August 15, 2026
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August 15, 2026
' I am brutally killed by daffodils' — poetry by Emily Tong
August 14, 2026
' I am brutally killed by daffodils' — poetry by Emily Tong
August 14, 2026
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August 14, 2026
'violet scabbing on ankle backs' — poetry by Lexi Rosen
August 14, 2026
'violet scabbing on ankle backs' — poetry by Lexi Rosen
August 14, 2026
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August 14, 2026
'it was something more gory' — poetry by Caroline O'Connor Thomas
August 14, 2026
'it was something more gory' — poetry by Caroline O'Connor Thomas
August 14, 2026
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August 14, 2026
'I’ll accept delight’s gloom' — poetry by Hazelyn Aroian
August 14, 2026
'I’ll accept delight’s gloom' — poetry by Hazelyn Aroian
August 14, 2026
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August 14, 2026
'every hour is one long suffering' — poetry by Anne Halsey
August 14, 2026
'every hour is one long suffering' — poetry by Anne Halsey
August 14, 2026
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August 14, 2026
'a terrible countenance for what nourishes' — poetry by I Echo
August 14, 2026
'a terrible countenance for what nourishes' — poetry by I Echo
August 14, 2026
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August 14, 2026
'I am the aftermath' — poetry by Taylor Hamann Los
August 14, 2026
'I am the aftermath' — poetry by Taylor Hamann Los
August 14, 2026
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August 14, 2026
'as if landscapes verdant' — poetry by Kacey Martin
August 14, 2026
'as if landscapes verdant' — poetry by Kacey Martin
August 14, 2026
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August 14, 2026
'a wasp  giving itself to the fig' — poetry by Elaina Edwards
August 14, 2026
'a wasp giving itself to the fig' — poetry by Elaina Edwards
August 14, 2026
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August 14, 2026
'ghosts in hair follicles' — poetry by Trish hopkinson
August 14, 2026
'ghosts in hair follicles' — poetry by Trish hopkinson
August 14, 2026
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August 14, 2026
'roses among men' — poetry by Amy Thatcher
August 14, 2026
'roses among men' — poetry by Amy Thatcher
August 14, 2026
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August 14, 2026
Writing prompts for a fever dream summer
August 3, 2026
Writing prompts for a fever dream summer
August 3, 2026
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August 3, 2026
'bloodsponge rubies & wicked diamonds' — poetry by Emily Murman
August 3, 2026
'bloodsponge rubies & wicked diamonds' — poetry by Emily Murman
August 3, 2026
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August 3, 2026
'beauty is the last thing before death' — poetry by Francis de Lima
August 3, 2026
'beauty is the last thing before death' — poetry by Francis de Lima
August 3, 2026
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August 3, 2026
aaron-burden-199005-unsplash.jpg

How Spirituality Brought My Mother and I Closer

May 4, 2018

BY CHLOË MOLONEY

My mother has taught me a multitude of things: respect yourself, always moisturise and the power of guardian angels. Granted, these are only three of a whole host of things she has blessed me with in recent years, yet the reason behind the latter has only just come into fruition.

As I think is often the case, as I have grown older my mother appears less authoritative, and more like a close friend. She has taught me everything a mother should, and more, yet one of her most pertinent lessons has arrived in a time of personal crisis. At the fringe of my twenties, having only a few months of the golden years under my belt, I found myself looking for a newfound sense of grounding upon which I can build the next decade of my life. Having had both a spiritual and emotional breakthrough of sorts, I found myself feeling completely and utterly disassociated with my younger self. This shift in perspectives naturally fed my desire to seek a new foundation for a new life.

Mothers cannot teach you everything. For some things, she can simply open the door and pray that you take the initiative to walk through. For my mother and me, spirituality is the doorway through which I have just poked my foot.

I have to note that my understanding of spirituality is premature. I’m not going to stand on a soapbox and claim that I know the ins and outs of what it means to be in touch with the heart and soul. However, there are two wonderful and ethereal truths which have brought my mother and I closer than I ever imagined.

RELATED: On My Unapologetic Mother

The Wheel Turns

The wheel turns, Chloë, remember that the wheel turns.

Whenever I feel particularly burdened or upset, she blesses me with that mantra once again. In times of trouble, I imagine myself as a spoke in a wheel: when at my lowest, I have comfort in the fact that any bad spell will soon be followed by sunshine. Life indeed has its cycles, its dips and turns – yet what my mother reminds me is that these will naturally create and resolve themselves. We can’t stop the wheel from turning, but we can take comfort in the certainty that bad times will soon spill into good.

Guardian Angels

Although I didn’t grow up in a religious household, the idea of guardian angels has recently been introduced to me. In fact, it may not fit any religious depiction of what a guardian angel might be or might do at all. However, I have been led to believe that each and every one of us has a guardian angel of sorts: someone who is looking out for us and can guide us in the right direction, whether we recognise it or not. There have been, and will be, times of intense loneliness and isolation, where it may feel as though no one could possibly understand where you’re coming from. Or, you feel tangled in a mess of confusion where any clarity and cohesion in the world seems near impossible. In these instances, my mother has taught me that I can rely on my ‘guardian angel’ as someone who can help to smooth things over, and is always by my side.

I was always aware that my mother had an otherworldly and spiritual side to her, but little did I know that this would be the thing that would bring us together. Admittedly, at first hand I could find no solace in anything spiritual at all – nothing seemed to stick as being particularly significant or momentous. Yet, entering the next chapter of my life, I have been endowed with the beauty of recognising a spiritual connection which runs through all of us: a deep calm amidst the chaos and disorder of everyday life. Instead of searching for the answers to a thousand questions, both internally and externally, perhaps it is better to let nature and the spiritual world run its course. Connecting with my mother in this way has led us both to discovering higher truths, not only strengthening our spiritual souls but supporting each other in unimaginable ways.


Chloë Moloney is a student and writer from Surrey, United Kingdom. She has had a short story collection published with Channillo, and fiction published with Moonchild Magazine, Occulum, Sick Lit Magazine and more. Chloë has written for Epigram, B24/7, London Horror Society and the award-winning news platform Shout Out UK. She also acted as a reviewer for the Edinburgh Fringe Festival, in 2017. Recently, Chloë has started writing reviews for MookyChick. You can find Chloë at @ChloeMoloney98.

In Personal Essay Tags Chloë Moloney, personal essay, Spirituality, Mothers
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feed me poetry
Featured
'dream in locusts' — poetry by Vi Ly
Vi Ly
Vi Ly
'dream in locusts' — poetry by Vi Ly
Vi Ly
Vi Ly
Read more →
Vi Ly
Vi Ly
'plastic chair, watermelon, generator exhaust, benzene' — poetry by Hana Saad
Hana Saad
Hana Saad
'plastic chair, watermelon, generator exhaust, benzene' — poetry by Hana Saad
Hana Saad
Hana Saad
Read more →
Hana Saad
Hana Saad
' I am brutally killed by daffodils' — poetry by Emily Tong
Emily Tong
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' I am brutally killed by daffodils' — poetry by Emily Tong
Emily Tong
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Read more →
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'violet scabbing on ankle backs' — poetry by Lexi Rosen
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Lexi Rosen
'violet scabbing on ankle backs' — poetry by Lexi Rosen
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Lexi Rosen
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Lexi Rosen
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'it was something more gory' — poetry by Caroline O'Connor Thomas
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'every hour is one long suffering' — poetry by Anne Halsey
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'as if landscapes verdant' — poetry by Kacey Martin
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'a wasp  giving itself to the fig' — poetry by Elaina Edwards
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'ghosts in hair follicles' — poetry by Trish hopkinson
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'roses among men' — poetry by Amy Thatcher
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