Sacred Women’s Circle
Healing wounds as ancient as time
In sacred circle, we see each other as we are,
the conditioning, trauma, the patterns, unbeknown to their depth
the darkness we were once so ashamed to delve our skin into
The ancestral wounding inflicting a womb-ens innate wisdom,
the power of her womb, feared and tainted in the name of witchcraft
we awake from our slumber, we rise in her name.
Embracing the sister wound, calling out her rawness
embodying the powerful reminiscence of our earthly bond,
a catalyst we’ve ignored.
We integrate our shadow parts,
embracing their reverence from our core.
Calling on our animalistic nature,
comparable to the wild, nurturing pack of wolves
allowing instinctual movement, morphing away from society’s mould
Navigating what we must, in our unique state
Screaming with rage, a primal roar for our injustices
Crying salty blue streams, finding true release
Passion kindles fiery embers within our souls,
Playfulness invites our inner child to be free,
we integrate our humanness by accepting our wholeness
celebrate each other, for our diversity and our boldness
pure joy flows freely, our sacred bond remembered
honouring ourselves, my reflection mirrored through you all
In sacred circle, wounding is redefined,
through honouring the longing that resides in us all.
Women’s Circles are as ancient as time. All around the world, women would gather and retreat from the world as they knew it — to honour and be with each other during their menstrual cycle, where we would rest, receive, express, immerse ourselves in our dreams, and set intentions for the next season of our souls. This is a healing community practice for women that has turned to a whisper when our world became overcome by structured religion and the trials of misogyny, which tainted our gifts and slowly but surely turned us to seek refuge in only ourselves, rather than sisterhood, which has contributed to a deep-rooted sister wound, due to being morphed to believe we weren’t to be trusted, and it was only safe to ostracise one another.
I haven’t done our history, (herstory) justice, as we need endless novels to even touch the surface. But still, in tribes, cultures and religions across the world, women gather in circle in their own unique way. We gather to honour the cycles of the moon and to celebrate love, birth, and death. We would raise our children together, and pass on medicine, cooking and intuitive wisdom. We would midwife each other through the sacred rite of passage of birthing, as well as embodying the role of death midwife as well.
Gathering in women’s circles is so powerful, that even our bodies begin to sync up with each other. I’m sure any woman here who lives with another menstruating woman, can say they’ve experienced their cycles harmonising. Myself and the 5 women at my women’s circle, all have the same cycles now — this just shows me that we are destined to be together in sisterhood.
Thankfully, in many countries and online, the whispers of women’s circles are becoming louder. We are waking up from our conditioned slumber, and remembering the forgotten. But our bodies have always known. I see it when I cry for another sister’s story that reflects my own. I feel it when I’m held in such safety, I realise it’s the main time I have ever felt like I can truly let all the suits fall, and show the depths of my truth. The pain, the rage, the sadness, the childishness, the wildness, the chaos, the silence, the controversy and all in between.
I have tried many different forms of therapy over the years for complex PTSD and trauma, but nothing has been able to cause such a strong change in me, than when I took my first step into a Women’s Circle. I would never be able to put into words how powerful it is to be seen and honoured as you are, without trying to change, ‘fix’ or resource you. This has led me on such a beautiful journey, that I too, am in the midst of contributing to the ancient healing practice of women’s circles, by holding a safe container here, in my small corner of the world.
©️ Rights Reserved, Bonnie Knapton
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