There were only a few of us gathered, this time. Seven in total, if I remember correctly.
It was intense. Although it was all about all of us, this collective dance seemed to swirl more potently around one in particular. It seemed that this day, she would be The One who would express out loud what so many were thinking/feeling/carrying as they stepped into the room.
It wasn’t pretty. A voice shaken with intense and deep truth; a face contorted in the pain of its discovery; and the wailing sound of grief raging at life unlived.
Some looked away. Some longed to comfort and held themselves back, knowing that doing so would serve no purpose.
Others looked down or looked away, trying with great desperation to look away from that same truth as it awakened in them… trying to hold in check the grief that moved through their own body.
Regret is a painful and often debilitating moment. And as has often been said, our greatest regrets are of those things we did not do… that we did not allow ourselves to engage… or for which we could not find the courage. For far too many women, far too many regrets are tied to being unwilling to stand alone; unwilling to be judged and shunned and ridiculed by others; and unwilling to let go of the distorted and very old truth that in simply being ourselves, we are not enough.
It’s been an intense six months and I know that the future will offer more and more moments of great discovery, often cloaked in exhalations of rage, grief, despair and fear, tempered only by moments of longing and regret. I ask myself: am I up for it? The question barely complete in my awareness and my body knows it is all unfolding as it should.
Today, I am mindful that hours away another small group of women is gathering… likely moving quickly and effortlessly into the deep end of the pool… trusting in themselves and in each other. Although some may have found the path to be filled with white light and forgiveness, that has not been my simple truth. My life has been – and continues to be – filled with more ugly and dangerous tales of the myth of the intact family than I choose to allow myself to recall. That we seek so desperately to have it not have been so, does not make it true. And in this more than anywhere else, I know, the truth shall indeed, set us all free.
I believe in the godforce that each of us already is. I believe that the future is in our hands – right here, right now. And I believe with every breath I take that women are the key.
Women have always gathered in small groups, talking… creating a force that has allowed them/us to survive, to protect ourselves and protect our children. What we are coming to know is that THAT force – of women gathering in small groups, talking… – IS the force that will reshape culture! And every voice counts.