Reflections on a Year of Women’s Circles
It’s been a full and wonderful year of hosting monthly women's circles. It began as an idea that I had tucked away for a while, a bit intimidated by intrusive thoughts…Who would come? Would people find it silly? What if NO one comes? What will we do? What if it’s awkward?
Eventually, I kindly put those thoughts aside and reached out to the women I know.
The seed was planted by the woman I considered my “wise woman” while living in Philadelphia. I felt so excited when she and I connected - a fellow Reiki master, a wellness and spiritual coach, a naturalist. And when it came time to move away, I felt a loss.
At our last meeting, I expressed my sadness for the loss of connecting with her in person. I told her how I’ve longed to connect with wise women and feel like that is the presence I need in my life. She simply told me to gather the women I know when I move back to Cleveland. Even if it was just one or two in the beginning - a small, casual gathering would be the place to start.
I had lots of ideas for what this could look like - but my oftentimes perfectionist mindset prevented me from jumping right in. I wanted to gather my thoughts, to plan, to organize. But I knew that this kind of gathering lent itself to a more organic, free-formed space…sometimes it can feel scary to simply trust that an idea is good enough, and that the rest will naturally fall into place.
It’s hard to find the words to describe my feelings that have evolved over the course of this year’s gatherings. Our women’s circle feels like a warm cup of tea and a big, bright bonfire. I’ve felt swaddled in love, comfort, nourishment, and support. I have experienced an entirely new depth of connection and community over this past year.
As likely with you, this year has been accompanied by a series of emotions - excitement, joy, fear, grief, depression, anxiety, peace, and contentment. My kaleidoscope of emotions surely drove my behaviors and mannerisms - the ways I’ve interacted with people; the ways I’ve taught yoga; and the readings and content I’ve selected for our circles. Knowing that there was always one evening to gather with my fellow women was an anchor for me this year. Regardless of what I was experiencing at different points throughout the year, I always looked forward to coming together in circle - to gather with purpose and intention, and to feel supported and held by my community.
I’ve been reflecting on these circles for a while now - especially the idea of gathering in ceremony and ritual, and how that has impacted my approach to living. I’ve always been one to enjoy creating spaces, environments, and rituals. I think this is one reason why I’ve enjoyed hosting so much - I can bring to life a vision, where at the core is intention, purpose, community, and nourishment. It’s a perfect combination of yoga principles (living in union with the self and with others), of reiki concepts (recognizing that all energetic beings and things are connected), of Indigenous precepts (feeling the connection to the seasons and to Mother Earth), of religious beliefs (especially lessons from our Divine Feminine figures), of ancestral connections (tapping into our predecessor spirits surrounding us), and of physical space (finding comfort in gathering together, in images and figures, and through music).
I have many takeaways from this year of circling and want to share some of my highlights. These are takeaways that I believe can be applied to everyone - not just women - and that can be lived in any situation - not just in circling.
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Gather for a purpose and create ceremony. All of our lives are busy. It’s easy to go through daily life on autopilot - showing up to work at 8 AM and booking it out the door to get to the next commitment, hanging out with friends but not being fully present, and socializing as a part of maintaining a schedule. I’m not suggesting to never do these things. I am suggesting, though, to be more purposeful in gathering with your people and your community. This is when we create ceremony, ritual, and connection.
Linda Hogan, a Chickasaw author, whose work we read in our August circle, says:
The intention of a ceremony is to put a person back together by restructuring the human mind. This reorganization is accomplished by a kind of inner map, a geography of the human spirit and the rest of the world. We make whole our broken-off pieces of self and world. Within ourselves, we bring together the fragments of our lives in a sacred act of renewal, and we reestablish our connection with others. The ceremony is a point of return. It takes us toward the place of balance, our place in the community of all things. (Dwellings: A Spiritual History of the Living World, pages 40-41.)
I’ve experienced enormous benefit and emotional support by gathering in ceremony, by speaking openly, honestly, and vulnerably with the women I feel closest to. One person cannot feed every need of another, and that’s where community comes into play - it can be the greatest support of all.
Ask yourself the last time you gathered for a purpose - a meditation class, church, an AA, CoDA, or other support group, a wildlife spotting hike, a class on a topic of your interest, your own gathering of friends - it could be any of these things or others. Reflecting on the purposeful gatherings you’ve attended, you may realize that there is a depth of intent that is oftentimes in short supply when running on autopilot.
I’ve learned that when we gather with purpose, I recognize commonalities, I am aware of different perspectives, and I feel hopeful and energized. Gathering with a purpose allows me to experience richness in life that I would otherwise lack. Forward thinking is beneficial, however, it must be balanced with relishing in the present - and that is felt when gathering for a purpose.
Celebrate and learn from multigenerational women. We all have different life experiences, different stories, and different makeups. Life is about mutualism - mutual support, mutual respect, and reciprocity. Homesteaders like to say that life isn’t just about being sustainable to survive, - it’s about being sustainable to thrive. And we cannot thrive without mutualism and community. And, further, that means coexisting and collaborating with people of all ages and backgrounds.
My family has always been close. I grew up, and continue to be, best friends with my sister. I always look up to and confide in my mother and her warm heart and wisdom. When my grandmother was alive, she nurtured and cared for my sister and me nearly every day. My godmother has always been present and consistent with love and support. These women were and still are the anchor women in my life - the women I see as divine, as goddesses, as my lights guiding me along my path.
I’ve had connections with other divine women too, including those with whom I’m no longer connected, although I will always cherish - other ‘mother-like’ and ‘grandmother-like’ images, soul friends, and mentors.
All these women are of various ages. They’ve all taught me lessons and held me close - listening with care and attention. They’ve been present through seasons, stages, and cycles of life.
In February, we read an excerpt from Braiding Sweetgrass. Robin Wall Kimmerer summarizes Paula Gunn Allen’s Grandmother of the Light:
We begin our lives walking the Way of the Daughter - the time for learning, gathering experiences in the shelter of our parents. We move next to self-reliance, then to the Way of the Mother. This is a time when ‘her spiritual knowledge and values are all called into service of her children.’ Our strengths then turn to a circle wider than our own children, to the well-being of the community. The net stretches larger and larger. The circle bends round again and grandmothers walk the Way of the Teacher, becoming models for younger women to follow. And in the fullness of age, we are reminded that our work is not yet done. The spiral widens farther and farther, so that the sphere of a wise woman is beyond herself, beyond her family, beyond the human community, embracing the planet, mothering the earth. (Paraphrased from Braiding Sweetgrass, pages 93-94)
This passage really reflects the women in my life. I consistently realized through our conversations that these women embody what it means to be human - recognizing that there is always work to be done and that we are always connected to one another and to energies greater than our physical selves. It makes me think of the whole idea of enlightenment - those who I view as truly understanding enlightenment, know that there is always more to learn, more to be aware of, more to experience and deconstruct. Life is a series of learning, unlearning, and cherishing the self and others - alongside people of all generations.
We all have innate God and Goddess energy living at our core. I shamelessly admit that I can forget that my heart is pure and divine; that there is a light within me that connects me to God, my spirits, and to my ancestors. Especially when life feels hard, this is so easy to forget.
But I’ve come to remember that there is a beautiful and pure light within me that is my power - it allows me to be soft yet fierce. It makes me who I am. It is my home, my source. The women and I regularly discuss the presence of spirits, angels, and earthly energies that we see, feel, and innately know are there. At first, it was easier for me to identify divine energies outside of myself - those in Nature and those in other people. This is the first step to truly feeling those divine energies within the self. We are a reflection of the Earth and of Nature (that includes fellow humans - we are Nature). And in understanding this intrinsic connection and reflection, I have come to see my own light.
In our December circle, we read from Mary Magdalene Revealed by Meggan Watterson. She says:
If I could write the beginning, it wouldn’t be in the light. It would be in the womb, in the dark, in a cave, in an egg. It would be to name all that has been left out of what’s holy. The blood, the body. Nothing real or imagined has ever happened without it. If I could start again, I would install an altar within me. I would place the most sacred object inside it: my own heart. If I could start again, I would know that the only cathedral I’ve ever needed to find, to enter, to return to again and again, is this humble red hermitage, this mystical space that holds all the answers. I would begin again inside my heart. And I would live this way. Speaking from it. (Mary Magdalene Revealed, page 12).
I know the beginning of this except outwardly contradicts that which I said prior - that we all have light within us. But understand the spiritual translation of her words. The body, the womb, and the heart are where life begins - this is the source of aliveness and of truth. And in seeing that truth, aliveness, and holiness that IS the self, we recognize the God and Goddess light fueling the soul.
Spiritual life, religious life, mindful life (whatever you’d like to call it) cannot be prescriptive or a one-size-fits-all recipe. If you’ve read this far, you’ll see that the excerpts I’ve highlighted range in background and modality. They are all authors and readings that I’ve felt connected to and called to explore further. I can only speak for myself, but I know from our gatherings that my women feel similarly in that there are aspects of our religious affiliations that fit our spirits, but there are innumerable practices, modalities, and precepts that resonate with us just as much, and sometimes, more.
I’ve always considered myself an Earth child. I feel most alive and inspired when my bare feet are on the soft Earth and when my nails are manicured with dirt and mud. This earthly connection has shaped who I am since I was a little girl - seeing and feeling the spirits of the plants and herbs in and around our family’s home, and knowing that these plants are my allies - providing us with medicine, food, and beauty. This approach to living is, too, my religion.
In Church of the Wild, Victoria Loorz says:
Spirituality and nature are not separate. Attempts to keep them apart break the world…Restoring relationship is the true mission of religion. The word religion, at its roots, means re, “again,” and ligios, “connection.” Religion is meant to offer us support to connect again what has been separated. (Church of the Wild, pages 7 and 20).
I feel so strongly about this sentiment. I’ve consistently struggled to understand my religion throughout my life because the way I experience spirituality and connection to God is not traditionally aligned with the teachings of the Catholic church - as I was raised. My “religion” reflects the Earth; it reflects the spiritual entities in Nature and in the supernatural; it reflects the teachings of the Divine Feminine in the Bible; it reflects my connection with my ancestors; it reflects God who I know in my heart.
If you’re interested in Earth-based spirituality and religion, ask me for the link to my thesis for a deeper dive on this topic :)
Create, play, and be expressive. This - we do not do enough! We are creators - literally, our bodies create new cells, birth new life, and heal. We are meant to move, to be expressive, and to play. My mother, as a retired play therapist, always engrained PLAY into my mind. It is healing. It connects us to others. It reveals feelings and emotions that we may not have known existed.
Play allows us to show the soul to the world.
Clarissa Pinkola Estes, known for Women Who Run with the Wolves, wrote You Were Made for This (read in April circle):
One of the most calming and powerful actions you can do to intervene in a stormy world is to stand up and show your soul. Soul on deck shines like gold in dark times…To display the lantern of soul in shadowy times like these — to be fierce and to show mercy toward others; both are acts of immense bravery and greatest necessity. (Clarissa Pinkola Estes, You Were Made for This.)
In all our circles, we had an element of play - whether that was creating a collective sand tray, expressing emotions through solo dancing, crafting witch balls or yule wands. One of the greatest joys of this year of circles was seeing the excitement and pure joy of the women when they learned which “play’’ element we would do that evening.
It was resounding confirmation that we are never, ever too old for play. It is one way to express our souls to the world. It is an act of bravery and freedom.
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As I’m writing this, the lyrics of The Highwomen’s Crowded Table keep ringing in my ears. I tried to refrain from quoting them because it’s also how I ended my thesis - and there was already one mention of that here! But I’m rolling with it because it reminds me of my path, my purpose, and my passion - to create community - a space for ceremony - on the basis of Earth-based living and spirituality.
So The Highwomen say, if we want to have a garden, we’ll have to sow the seed; plant a little happiness and let the roots run deep; if it’s love that we give, then it’s love that we reap…the door is always open; your picture’s on my wall; everyone’s a little broken; and everyone belongs.
This all started from the seed that my Philadelphia spiritual teacher planted in response to my yearning for deep connections with women in my life. I observe my women that join - some consistent, others just intrigued by this said “coven??” that one friend’s husband called it. I remember, earlier in the year, that I felt disappointed that more women didn’t join, especially those my age - feeling a sense of disconnect between my interests and those of my peers.
But it finally dawned on me that I had what I was seeking all along. This was my manifestation embodied. These women. My circle. The women that showed up. They are my wise women. My “champions,” as Pope Francis says in Happiness in this Life.
We are the women who plant seeds together, love together, recognize our brokenness and humanity together, and belong together.
This is exactly what I had hoped for.
