Small Circles

Passing the torch ~ letting go ~ the story of a circle

When I first arrived in Argentina, I searched high and low for a woman's circle.  I think I wrote about this before...  using google to search for a circle in BA...  I called up a woman whose site I had found on the internet, and asked her if she had a circle.  She didn't.  Lots of workshops and classes, but no regular circles.  We spoke for a while, sharing our stories, and at some point she says, "Wait a minute...  why don't you start a circle?"  "What are you waiting for," she said, "the goddess herself to come knocking on your door?"   I responded like a little girl.  I think for her I tried to keep my cool, uh yeah, perhaps I'll do that...  but inside I thought, no way, not me, where would I do it, I'm just a visitor, for pete's sake they speak spanish here.

Fast forward a few months:  I had been sending out monthly emails to a group of women I'd met in a class, all saying, in short: whoops, sorry, not this month, I still can't find a space.  Weird huh?  How in this huge, gigantuous city, I could not find a space to host a circle.  So convenient.

Fast forward to June-ish, and a young woman writes back to me, I have a space, let's do it...  I say ok, great, yup, Friday it is.  Then the internal critic, (those gosh darn vermicious knids of the mind,) starts in... blah, blah, yuck, yuck, you suck.  This woman, Jaz, is somewhat of a flake, and we don't really confirm that we are doing a circle until Friday morning.  The circle is supposed to take place that evening.  I run around like a mad woman all day, gathering supplies, fighting the critic.  She's telling me all day to just blow it off...  run away!  You're better off alone!  I share my sentiments with Chris, who knows a thing or two about Jen, and he says, "You're going to go and then come home and tell me, 'Oh Chris it was so beautiful and so wonderful and the women are so amazing.'"

I facilitated the circle that night, there were five of us at its birth, and I came home and said, "Oh Chris it was so beautiful and so wonderful and the women were so amazing."  And it really was...  it was a beautiful birth. We sang, we danced, we released, we made magic candles.  I realized that first night that this circle was not about me teaching, it was about me learning.  As we held more circles, it became clearer and clearer:  there was so much I could learn from these women.  I had been nervous that they would think some of the rituals goofy, and I had thought I'd go slow...  slowly bring them into the fold.  Well, poop on me -- it was them who brought me in, fast and furious.  They were/are so open, so ready for this kind of sacred play, so ready to release and act and participate and howl at the moon.  Goofy?  That was my thing...

By the fourth circle, I felt as though my vision for the circle had been fulfilled.  Three of the women were so enthusiastic, they asked if they could participate in the creation of the circle each month.  Of course, I said yes.  It was a great opportunity for my ego to let go:  this is my circle, these are my rituals, this is mine!  It actually wasn't all that hard -- I saw that by letting go, I could ensure that this circle would continue on, long past my short stay here in Buenos Aires.  And so, by the forth circle, I felt complete:  this circle would grow and flourish...  and my role was in birthing the circle.  The sustenance of the circle was perhaps not my role...

Well, on Friday, I officially passed the torch.  Even though the circle was sometimes created communally, I had been doing the facilitating.  Well, this month I asked the other women to take charge.  Actually, I was so extreme that I almost didn't go to the circle.  (Must have been my critic again:  run away!)  But that would be like teaching someone to swim by throwing them in the middle of a pool -- doesn't feel all that safe when you're the one being thrown in...  So, of course, I went, as a participant, and just to help embrace these women...  give them something to lean up against.  I bought the circle a cauldron, and officially passed on the fire.  It was a beautiful circle, and they completely took on creating it for themselves, and with their vision.  Even so there were sparks of me, sparks of Susan and the NY circle, sparks of the Spiral, sparks of Vishnu and ascension and my first circle of way back when...  So full...

And so it is complete.  I feel a lot of pride, but in a "look what came through me" kind of way.  Perhaps it is more honor than pride actually, honored that somehow this little spark, ignited in NY (and before and since time immemorial), came with me to BA, and I could pass it on, and they will pass it on, and on, and on...  It's like what I feel about Albie and his amazingness...  I can't take credit for him, his greatness -- I am just touched and mystified that he came through me...  Stevie says it best:  "I can't believe what god has done, through us he's given life to one, isn't she lovely, made from love..."

So you know, well done me, well done us, thanks to the spirits for seeing to it that our sparks connected to ignite the great fire of this circle.  For this last gathering one of the women's partners created a flier.  I post it here, like a proud mama, showing off pictures of her one year old...  Happiness and hugs all around...

Freedom, everybody

Last Friday was Albie's last day of school, the parents were invited in to celebrate, and the children were able to play one last time. 

It was very emotional -- thinking of Albie's struggles at the beginning of the year...  saying goodbye to parents and teachers who would not be returning...  Also, another opportunity to see that my child just really isn't like all the other children.  As we were about to go into the classroom, Albie had an upset with his dad, and well, the levee broke.  He was just so upset, didn't want to go into the classroom, didn't want to sit in his chair for "la ronda" -- he just could not be with it.  And of course, he was the only one...  I mean, it's not like the other kids weren't sad, it's just that Albie, well yeah, he was the only one who just couldn't participate.  He really goes inside himself...  really emotional and uncomfortable.  His teacher is wonderful, and neither she nor I forced anything on him, an soon enough he was playing and laughing and bossing around.   And this has been this way for as long as I can remember...  he is an observer, he stays a bit outside the circle.  Eventually, he warms up, and if you are lucky enough to be in his inner circle, he gets deeply attached.  We once did a music class when he was 2 or 3 -- and again, he was the only kid who didn't prance and sing and dance.  I pranced and sung and danced, trying to show him, "Wow!  Look how cool it is to participate!"  But no, he just sat and watched.  Happily, and with a smile, but watching nonetheless.  Remember the spring festival?  Or the bring show and tell wrapped in a box?

Not sure this means anything at all, just you know, knowing my child...  Want to help him feel ok opening his heart.  I had a laugh at myself when I remember a class here I took recently.  It was a class about gods and goddesses and archetypes and Jung over at the local fancy shmancy yoga center.  At the end of the class, the teacher passed around a "which goddess are you quiz."  Multiple choice, it was a way of discovering what drives you.  Just a little fun after a serious lecture.  Anyhow, I get the quiz, and it just drives me crazy.  I'm not sure if I'm answering from the truth about me, or what I'd like the truth to be at this point.  And i just can't complete the damn thing.  I figure, it's cool, I'm a bit Hestia, a bit Aphrodite...  this much I know.  So then, much to my embarrassment, the teacher proceeds to ask everyone in the room about their quizzes, and what they found out.  And wouldn't you know it, out of the 30-40 people in the room, I was the only one to say, "Uhh, I didn't do it."  Which probably says a lot more about me than filling out the quiz would have.  Like mother, like son?

Anyhow, shit, we were talking about the last day of school.  Here's some pics that Albie took:

 

 

It was another stupendous glimpse of my son in action, actually...  Albie had all his friends following his orders:  stand here, smile, make a funny face, get together, go here, go there, etc...  Parents had been trying and trying to get the kids together for group shots, but it was only Albie who was able to do so. 

Here's Albie saying, "Woohoo!  Summer vacation!"

 

And how's this for a mind bender for all you Northern Hemisphere-ites?  On the last day of school, beginning of summer vacation, we went shopping for a christmas tree.  And set it up -- lights, ornaments, garland. 

 

We have quickly transformed from freaks who eat at 6pm and sleep at 8pm into super cool Argentines who eat whenever and sleep whenever.  Today we woke up at 10.  Dinner at 8 will be an early dinner, we finally get to go out eat or gee whiz!  Order in!  We're living la vida loca. 

It sure as heck doesn't feel like thanksgiving...

Perhaps it has something to do with the fact that I am in Buenos Aires, and we'll be having ravioli for dinner, and the high today will be 88 degrees.  Not quite ti's the season of being grateful for the harvest, more like ti's the season to be grateful for all the growing things, as in, juicy peaches that drip down your chin.  Here, I have to flip things around and turn them inside out and reach across latitudinal cords to come up with some sort of semblance of following rhythms:  yours, mine, theirs.

Sitting here, thinking about thanksgivings past...  Memory flood.  As a young child, thanksgiving was always held at my grandparents house, cousins, aunts, uncles.  Even though my grandparents and their three children were all born in Argentina, and there was no turkey to found on the table come harvest, they sure did learn how to throw a mean thanksgiving upon their arrival to the US.  It was very special, a very special growing up I did, so close to my cousins...  my family.  All of our parents managed find partners whose families lived far, far away.  So really, there was none of the crazy holiday "which way do we go" shenanigans -- we were always, year after year, together.  Even when thanksgiving moved on over to my mother's house, still we were always together.  There is such warmth as I am filled with the images, us, the cousins, young...  laughing...  playing constantly.  The image of this stunningly beautiful family, Nona, my great-grandmother, Ama & Daddy and my mom and aunts and uncles looking like movie stars...  Funny, how memories just creep up.  How right now, on this thanksgiving that I am very thankfully skipping, being filled with All Memory of Every Thanksgiving.   What a life.

And so jeez, didn't know where I was going when I came on here today, I thought I'd come on and be all flippant, thanksgiving whatever...  but now I am feeling the spirit.   Feeling really grateful for every moment of my life.  I know, cliche, but so nice to feel.  Feeling grateful for my dearest friends -- and if you are reading this, you are one of them.  You, my friends, the family I chose...  so grateful that I keep finding you, no matter where we go. Feeling grateful for my amazing family of birth, the Camelot they created for us growing up, the friendship and love they continue to give.  Feeling this magical moment in our life -- this being in BA, where 5 of the 6 siblings are living together, sharing our lives...  never before has that happened, and perhaps never again.  Feeling grateful and proud of my woman's circle here -- tomorrow night we gather for the 5th time.   Overwhelmed with love for Albie, who is finishing school next week.  He made it, he thrived.  A huge challenge for a five year old boy... 
Feeling grateful and proud of Chris, who continues to be the rock steady foundation of this family, loving us fully, creating a successful business...   All of it, just all of it -- Thank you.

Worth Repeating...

It's not mother's day down here, but it is up there...  I always feel a bit wishy washy about mother's day.  Like, oh great -- we get a day.  How about a statue of the Venus of Willendorf, say... about the same size as the Lincoln Memorial, right there in our nation's capital.  How about that?

But regardless of that bit of anger I feel, I also know deep down the amazing job that women do raising their kids...  I know that really, it is the most important thing... now matter how much our culture undervalues mothering and the work/energy/archetype of the feminine.

The mother energy -- it rocks.  Blessings today and always to all mothers, and to all those who came from mothers.

Mothers' Day Proclamation
Arise, then, women of this day! Arise all women who have hearts, whether your baptism be of water or of tears! Say firmly: "We will not have questions decided by irrelevant agencies. Our husbands shall not come to us reeking of carnage for caresses and applause. Our sons shall not be taken from us to unlearn all that we have been able to teach them of charity, mercy, and patience. We women of one country will be too tender to those of another country to allow our sons to be trained to injure theirs."

From the bosom of a devastated Earth a voice goes up with our own. It says "Disarm! Disarm!" The sword of murder is not the balance of justice. Blood does not wipe out dishonor, nor violence indicate possession.

As men have forsaken the plow and the anvil at the summons of war, let women now leave all that may be left of home for a great and earnest day of counsel. Let them meet first as women, to bewail and commemorate the dead. Let them solemnly take counsel with each other as to the means whereby the great human family can live in peace, each bearing after his time the sacred impress not of Caesar, but of God.

In the name of womanhood and humanity, I earnestly ask that a general congress of women without limit of nationality be appointed and held at some place deemed most convenient and at the earliest period consistent with its objects, to promote the alliance of the different nationalities, the amicable settlement of international questions, the great and general interests of peace.

Circles, in Spanish

It's a rainy day here in BA...  as Albie says, "It's a good day to get cozy and watch a movie."  So that's just what he's doing.  An interesting, unlooked for side effect of our move to BA is that we have really cut down on video time (and TV time for me.)  I mean, not that we were every-day-for-hours kind of watchers anyway, but we just aren't watching that much these days.  No real reason why -- Albie isn't asking, I'm not turning the tube on...  The irony is that we have cable here, which we didn't have in NY.  So even with the abundance of choices -- we're not watching.  Not that we're doing anything inspiring or noble with all that no-TV time...  Anyhow...  Today, it rains and we get cozy.

When it rains gently here, there's an absolutely delightful swooshy pitter pattery kind of sound made on my metal roof.  When it pours, you can't hear a thing.  YOU HAVE TO YELL TO BE HEARD.  It sounds like the percussion section of all the world's orchestras are practicing in my courtyard.   Quite fun, except in the middle of the night, if you hope to be sleeping.

So.  Circles.  Last Saturday I attended a woman's circle.  Well, it was more of a teaching circle -- a course on menstruation -- but it was a circle nonetheless, full of ritual, sharing, and joy.  Last new moon I wished to find a woman's circle and I got busy in looking for one.  I began my quest by searching the web -- I searched for such things as "femenino sagrado" and "espiritualidad femenina."  I figured it would surely be a good place to start if someone down here had a web page that spoke of the sacred feminine.  I didn't find much -- a wiccan page, a pagan page, and a couple other pages.  The couple other pages were gems though...  I emailed both women, asking if they were part of a woman's circle.  I got immediate responses, and the answer from both was "no."  Of course though, they both lead a bunch of classes...  The one's path is through a woman's blood -- the other's path is through the archetype of the triple goddess.  At the very least, I have met some lovely women, future teachers perhaps.  The one whose class I took is the one who strongly suggested I start a circle...  And I am thinking that is just what I'll do.  I mean, first I'll spin and stew, and then I'll create a circle (allow a circle to be created?).  It seems to be really strongly desired...  The women -- they are asking for that kind of connection. 

The circle last weekend was fabulous -- I learned a bit, danced a bit, and worked on feeling authentic whilst sharing in Spanish.  So much harder than I thought it was!  Yet another thing to let go of in this move -- my voice, my expression in my mother tongue.    There were a few young 20's women there, and I felt this surge of love for them...  remembering my early 20's, the looking, searching for spiritual connection, searching for meaning, wanting to "find myself."  They all shared something to that extent, that they wanted to find themselves.  Interestingly (and so hopeful too for the young 20-somethings), the women in their late 30's and 40's almost all shared from a place of knowing exactly(ish -- the word exactly ought to always be followed by ish) who they were.  As in, "I am here because circling with women is an essential part of my spiritual practice...  a place to see my beauty, joy and sadness reflected in your eyes..."  We all get there.  And we all keep going on and on.

Hopeful, all these small circles all over the world...  So very hopeful.

First, backwards. Aka, Brazil.

I like the big wave beaches of Bahia...

And those with no waves...

I like our house, and my clan...

Clearly, I like the slow and steady turtles...

And the speedy monkeys too...

I like the people of Bahia...

And I like that Spidey was there...

But mostly, I really like the pizza boxes...

Peak to Peak

Back to share some inspirational moments...  There were some lows in between, but I won't go into that.  Just present, once again, to my humanity.  It's humbling. 

I also feel like I ought to wrap up my crisis of faith, but I don't much feel like fleshing it all out.  Suffice it to say, it was a delightful crisis of faith.  I like the emptying...  Couple things that came out of it for me: 

One, I get that all this spiritual voodoo hoodoo doodoo is my shtick.  I seek, watch, observe, flesh out, turn inside out, weave my web of stories, make meaning, spin in, spin out, ritualize.  Perhaps too much sometimes, perhaps too little other times -- but it's my shtick.  There are millions of shticks to choose from, voodoo doodoo is one of mine. 

Two, I let go of needing/wanting/believing a credo, the Truth, 12 steps, 10 commandments...  There are pros and cons to everything.  Everything has a shadow side.  There is no black or white.  Like Joseph's coat, life is red and yellow and green and brown and scarlet and black and ochre and peach and ruby and olive and violet and fawn and lilac and gold and chocolate and mauve and cream and crimson and silver and rose and azure and lemon and russet and grey and purple and white and pink and orange and blue.

Lastly, I understand something new/old about myself, at least at this current spin of the spiral.  I am not all that ambitious.  At least not in the western, cultural definition of ambition.

What I really wanted to write about was the brilliantly lovely bridal blessing I gave my sister on Saturday.  I led a circle of women through some beautiful rituals -- women who had never really participated in a circle like that.  I felt so very myself.  You know, my shtick.   The circle was made up of mostly family, both mine and my in-laws (who are close to my sister).  So -- in a sense, it was also like a coming out party for me...  They said, you were an amazing emcee.  I said, it's called priestess.  Remember?  ;-)  Just splendid.  I was so happy to create a sacred space in which to honor and love Patti.  When the ritual was complete, I was told that I should do these circles for a living.  Ha!  I replied, I do them to stay alive, to be alive, to feel alive.  Various family members were coming up with reasons why we should do more...  Again, these are not women that are circling with sisters, or creating spaces to acknowledge the divine feminine, or honoring rites of passage.  But they so got it -- they were so present, so honest and authentic, and right there with me.   This is the miracle of a woman's circle, the miracle of creating safe and sacred space...  It is so inclusive.   And I am just so inspired, honored and humbled that I know that this is a part of who I am, and I am thrilled to share it for the rest of my life.

Everybody's smiling, sunshine day

Safe in the arms of the mother earth, safe in the hands of my sisters,
This summer solstice gathering we dance on sacred land,
To welcome summer joyously, just take your sister's hand...

Happy Summer!

Yesterday was just an absolutely magical, happy and shiny day for me -- truly, I felt more myself than I have in a long long time.  Me:  slightly disheveled, mad, funky layers of clothes, braids down my back...  A composite Jen -- me camping with the Spiralinas, me at Dead shows, me at seven, me in labor...  All there.  Feeling sunny.

We met at the beach, some as early as nine, and spent the entire day playing.  We made wands with the kids (all 13 of them!), charged them at the moment of solstice...  Play!  They were so excited with their wands, and tried more than once to turn me into a piece of ham, or some such silly thing.  The evening was for big people, for our own little ritual.  At one point it poured, the skies open, wet, thundering.  The winds howling.  And then the sun, again.  And then the rainbow!  The first I've seen since Colorado.  Full, complete, radiant.  Talk about immanence.  And in circle, surrounded by queens, surrounded by crones.  Women who inspire me, who are a beacon of light, providing hope and wisdom.  Oh that I may age to be like them!

Making wands....

The altar....

The fabulous magic makers...

And because I'd like you to feel shiny and groovy, even shinier and groovier than you feel right now, I leave you with this song.  I recommend singing it out loud.  With your people.  Right now!

It's a Sunshine Day

I think i'll go for a walk outside now
the summer sun's callin my name
(i hear ya now)
i just can't stay inside all day
i gotta get out get me some of those rays
everybody's smilin
sunshine day
everybody's laughin
sunshine day
everybody seems so happy today
it's a sunshine day

I think I'll go for a walk out side now
the summer sun knows me by name
he's callin me
I gotta get out, gotta get out, gotta get away
I gotta get away, get away, get away, get away
Into the sunshine day....

Can't you dig the sunshine
Love and sun are the same
Can't you hear him callin your name?

Oh, I think I'll take a walk everyday now
the summer sun has shown the way to be happy now
I just cant stay inside all day
I gotta get out get me some of those rays
everybody's smiling
sunshine day
everybody's laughing
sunshine day
everybody seems so happy today
it's a sunshine day

A Taurean tale

Farmer Joe, who farms down the road from us, recently bought a Steer.  The plan was that Farmer Joe would fatten up the steer all spring and summer long, and then, sometime in the early fall, he would give thanks to the Great Spirit, and give thanks to the great spirit of the steer, and send out many prayers, and although a small part of Farmer Joe would die too, he then would sacrifice said Steer.  (Ok -- I made that up -- except for the part about Joe, the Steer, and the Steer's eventual sacrifice.)   The Steer arrived about 2 weeks ago, and although the poor Steer had had his balls cut off (that's what makes him a Steer), it seems he metaphorically grew those balls back, and he bolted.  Soon enough, Joe was coming around, asking,  "Have you seen a Steer?"  Well, it seems that our friend the Steer (he is our friend now right?) has been hiding out in the woods by my house.  Every time Joe tries to bring him in, he bolts.  For now, he is uncatchable.  Of course, I am rooting for the Steer.  Our very own Taurean bull  -- fighting to be free.

 

Today is May Day, Beltane...  midpoint between the spring equinox and the summer solstice.  The sweet young innocent maiden of the spring has matured, and she's getting a bit racy.  Hot pink.  A celebration of the hieros gamos, the sacred marriage...  of the the feminine and masculine, the light and dark, the seen and unseen, the human and the divine -- the sacred union all the opposing forces, acted out in the sacred union of lovemaking...  I had myself a hot Beltane dream last night...  won't repeat it here...  This from an ancient Sumerian poem (5,500 years ago?) about the ritual union of Innana and Dumuzi, enacted and re-enacted, year after year, by the high-priestesses (becoming Goddess) and their son/lover/consort/king:

    My vulva, the horn,
    The boat of Heaven,
    Is full of eagerness like the young moon.
    My untilled land lies fallow.
    As for me, Inanna,
    Who will plow my vulva?
    Who will plow my high field?
    Who will plow my wet ground?
    As for me, the young woman,
    Who will plow my vulva?
    Who will station the ox there?
    Who will plow my vulva?

   ( Dumuzi, the king replies:)
    Great Lady, the king will plow your vulva,
    I, Dumuzi the King, will plow your vulva

    (Inanna accepts him saying:)
    Then plow my vulva, man of my heart
    Plow my vulva.

    My eager impetuous caresser of the navel,
    My caresser of the soft thighs;
    He is the one my womb loves best,
    My high priest is ready for the holy loins.
    My lord Dumuzi is ready for the holy loins.
    The plants and herbs in his field are ripe.
    O Dumuzi, Your fullness is my delight.

    Inanna called for the bed.
    Let the bed that rejoices the heart be prepared
    Let the bed that sweetens the loins be prepared
    Let the bed of kingship be prepared!
    Let the bed of queenship be prepared!
    Let the royal bed be prepared!

    He shaped my loins with his fair hands,
    The shepherd Dumuzi filled my lap with cream and milk.
    He stroked my pubic hair.
    He watered my womb.
    He laid his hands on my holy vulva,
    He smoothed my black boat with cream,
    He quickened my narrow boat with milk.
    He caressed me on the bed.
    The King went with lifted head to the holy loins.
    He went with lifted head to the loins of Inanna
    He went to the queen with lifted head.
    He opened wide his arms to the holy priestess of heaven.
    We rejoiced together.
    He took his pleasure of me.
    He laid me down on the fragrant honey-bed
    My sweet love, lying by my heart,
    Tongue-playing, one by one,
    My fair Dumuzi did so fifty times.
    Now, my sweet love is sated.

May you too be sated, within and without.  Fifty times, even.

[The above image is an ancient bas-relief of Innana/Ishtar.  Who else thinks Katia has been creating her juju's for thousands of years?]

And of course, Eostre

You can feel it can't you?  Your blood slowly, slowly, rising like the sap of the trees...  The sun warming you like it hasn't all winter...  The birds joining in chorus every morning...  The animals busily preparing their nests...  The buds rounding out a bit more every day...  The balance -- that lovely pause between the darkness behind us and the brilliant light yet to come, the balance between life and death...  Mother Earth is directing the scene and she has yelled, "Action!"

You did it.  You made your journey to the underworld and have returned.  Joy!  Birth!  Growth!  Happy Spring!