Will the Circle go Unbroken?

One of the most difficult risks we can take is to extend and offer our gifts to the world—more than the risk of rejection, we risk the deeper wound of having our gifts unreceived or ignored.  We risk making mistakes, being hurt, neglected or worse, injuring others in a way we are blind to.  

Anyone who has made art or worked to gather community knows the terror that can set in on the eve of an event or launch. Will anyone hear my call?  Will I be understood, will I be received, will I be met?  The truth is though this process is excruciating, it is necessary to expose ourselves to the weather in order to become matured, we must fail, we must seek connections and we must risk it all.  Sometimes we are surprised by the company we gather, the support and the enrichment that can occur when we invite others into our dream of what a more enlivened world could mean, and sometimes we are left alone at the banquet with an embarrassment of riches rotting on the vine.  It’s torture. 

Over the last decade I have put myself out there (perhaps too out there)— I’ve gathered folks in my home and studio, offered workshops and classes and trainings and taken people on trips to the places most sacred to me. I now identify most closely as a circle tender.  I’ve sat in thousands of circles with my friends and family, built a beautiful mycelial network of community members— its mostly been exquisite to co-create communities of practice and council, to see what can happen when containment is offered, to sustain the energy and call folks together to do the deeply personal work of healing in the warmth of the community.  It’s mostly about remembering the village and what it means to hold the pain and pleasure of life together.  It’s been one of the most rewarding and interesting experiences to be a circle facilitator.  I believe spaces of egalitarian leadership and collective council are what the world needs now, that refining the skills of facilitation is more important than gathering a knowledge bank or expertise, because the co-intelligence of a group is much greater than the intellect of an individual.   

I was in circle when my water broke with my third child (to be honest, it broke on the foot of a member of the circle).  A member of the circle I love and whose beautiful presence worked on my resistance to surrender to labor like an enzyme of trust and love. When I think back to that, I feel both tenderly and also in disbelief that I didn’t have more space around my family and myself at that time.  I believed that my circle was my forever family, that it would never change, and that I had found a home. I was a lost child who had not yet awoken to the fact that my home was a garden that needed to be cultivated within.  

This year I have been in a process of deep unraveling and confrontation with my shadow. I have begun to unlearn certain habits and ways of being, I’ve engaged in amends rituals with my partner of 25 years (more on this in a future installment) with myself and with my family, and am learning ways to restore justice when I have done wrong, I’ve changed the way I show up, become more soul-centered and perhaps more careful. I’m learning to slow down, to use my own body as a resource to know what is right for me and I am learning to hold my tongue. I need to be a safe harbor for myself if I am going to be that for others. 

I’m learning about how to enjoy and create more space around my presence, this protects me and others too.  I’m building a safe harbor for myself, it’s quiet and it's made by writing and sadhana and by feeling into my own feelings and moving them through every day.  It means less contact time with folks on the outside and more time within.  

This awakening to oneself can be painful, it was for me, but I am so grateful to come into a deeper relationship with the individuation that makes love sustainable and real. We have boundaries because we love and we want to care for our relationships and be available for true intimacy.  I have more boundaries now, I know how to make sure I’m getting my needs met elsewhere and I understand that though my love is real, I need to use myself in a careful way.  I hold the folks I work with in reverence.  

I have been in circle for most of my adult life and I have held little back from my work as a circle tender, if I am to be honest I have often prioritized the circle over my own family or my own need to restore or rest.  Sometimes it has been confusing, and I have made some mistakes along the way, I’ve learned the hard way that the role I have chosen means that I need to be resourced, surrounded by space and deeply connected to spirit. 

Belonging to a circle is to make a space to practice the skills of belonging and the most important starting point for that work is done when we extend a hand of unconditional friendship to ourselves.  We begin the circle where we are, that may be surrounded by willing collaborators, it may be alone, it may be familiar, but we must reach out.  It's the only way we have a chance to find our way.  It's worth it.