Lichen – the sacred union between an algae and a mushroom, thriving together in a way they could not achieve alone.
yesterday, i took part in a woman’s circle.
last week, i took part in a co-created gathering.
two weeks ago, we had a party for my dad’s funeral.
with every opportunity to immerse myself in community, i feel my power grow. i feel the reach of my influence go further, wider, taking on new flavours when the seeds from our gardens cross-pollinate. when we can contemplate the mirrors of others’ achievements and stories, their ways of walking the path of love and pain.
the circle yesterday was full of powerful women. many of us travellers, gathered in front of the crackling fire before we scattered to the winds.
we had a ritual. i read somewhere we make rituals so we remember to remember.
to remember how powerful we are.
how much support we have to offer and receive.
how precious our individual gifts.
how strong, when we braid them together.
yesterday a woman played her whole year for us on the harp. we listened and wept. it felt so damn good. to wash her pain, that is ours, in all our tears.
the people from new year’s gathering are restless : “when do we meet again? how can we bear to live apart now? how do we channel all this energy into something beautiful, meaningful?”
i keep having dreams of one body, many heads.
alone we are but a strand of grass, easily trampled on, fragile, evanescent. Together we become braided sweetgrass, a ceremonial smudge that “washes the recipient in kindness and compassion to heal the body and the spirit”. (Kimmerer)
cards once told me, about a man i loved: “he is not ready for the funeral pyre of love. when he finds the support of a tribe, he will be.”
find your community, your hive. the nest that can hold your incubation.
hunt down the many whose open arms ache for your return. follow their tracks back home.