My family lived as “displaced persons” during and for many years after the Second World War. My grandmother experienced pregnancy and childbirth as a “displaced person.” I was resentful when I was young that my female family members weren’t more proactive and confident in the way they inhabited their bodies, and in the guidance and support they offered (or didn’t offer) me. My primary guides at the time of my first menstruation were books, tampon packages, an awkward day at school, clinical handouts (mostly about birth control and STDs), and chattering among other curious and anticipating girls at school.
Eventually, over the course of adulthood, I discovered genuine holistic and natural strategies for understanding and nurturing my cyclical body. I attempted to guide my daughter in a holistic, knowledgeable, and supportive way, however, my learning curve may have been still a bit too wobbly during her most tender and defining moments of need. I can see that not having a confident role model in this regard caused her pain.
I often wonder, how would my life have been different if I had been initiated in a conscientious way; in a way that taught me about my connection to seasonal cycles, and about my own seasons. Were rites of passage ever practiced by women in my lineage? My sense is that they were, if some time long forgotten due to centuries of cultural disruptions, war, and myriad tactics of oppression. Authors like Christiane Northrup, Lara Owen, Clarissa Pinkola Estes, and Judith Duerk inspired my longing for what’s possible, and what women have practiced in cultures around the world since time immemorial.
I see images in the media today of women fleeing on foot and by sea with hopes of finding safety and security for themselves and their children, often with babes in arms or in their bellies. In the case of exile or impoverished conditions women are facing situations with no access to sanitary supplies, nor access to nutritious foods or natural medicines. No privacy. Nowhere to rest; no one to talk to or process feelings with. No one to embrace her in her tenderness, struggles, and growth; in a place where she likely feels unwanted, invisible, without roots, and/or lacking support of kin, or even other women. Even basic physical safety is not guaranteed. This is a modern reality as much as it is a factor in the recent lineage of so many women around the world.
My experience has shown me that menstruation is a source of magic and infinite possibility. Menopause, likewise, has the potential to be an exquisitely rich and insightful phase in a woman’s life. Current typical patriarchal social conditions, however, present insurmountable challenges for the female body—like being smothered—even in the case of relative socioeconomic security. This is unacceptable and lays a predictable path toward illness, depression, unnecessary suffering, and social dis-ease.
Nevertheless, given current conditions for women around the world, we really are privileged to have the luxury of time, space, and social conditions where we can (even if only sometimes) prioritize self-care, emotional reflection, intimate connection with one another, and spiritual practice around our cyclical bodies. I don’t take this for granted. For me this compels determination to imagine, create, and reinvent entire socioeconomic systems that love women and the brilliance of our bodies.
There is no doubt in my mind that wise, confidently embodied, self-assured women are—always have been—needed to lead us toward social and cultural renewal.
—Anonymous reflection from a woman in our Wisdom Circle
From Our Collective Journal Pages is an ongoing series of vignettes that offer a window into tender accounts that may never be spoken about in typical daily conversations. This content is being offered to invite our readers to join us in collective introspection and compassionate witnessing. Where will we steer our efforts when we truly own our own stories and bear intimate witness to the plight of our sisters?