gathering in circle . . .

a trio of offerings for the new moon

Summer has come back to us, and we are here releasing our long held winter breath, and remembering how to sing.

And I wonder what else we have forgotten in that long, dark, cold season, that feels only just to be letting go of his tight, icy grip?

What are you making room for, once more, in your core?

What are you welcoming back up, long buried beneath your surface?

As the summer dances, what do you want to remember how to do, how to be, how to dream?

I’ve been spending time with plants and words; two of my most healing, transformative allies.

I’ve been trying to remember being, what exactly it means to simply be.

As I write, my young son is reading DOGGER, one of my all time favourite books, a book about loss and love and what it means to have something returned to us through the sacrifice of another.

As I write, 610,000 children are being abused, terrified and traumatised in Rafah.

What does it mean to live like this?

Is that living?

What does it mean, in such darkness, to simply be?

What does existence look like for our kin in Palestine? Being bombed, maimed, threatened and murdered off their homeland; a land they would never abuse how it’s being abused right now.

I don’t know, really I have no way of even trying to know—although still I must try to understand—what it feels like to live with such loss. To simply survive.

Nothing in life has felt for me how it did before October last year. I’ve written about it here, and in other places, but actually now is the one time in my entire life where writing has simply not been the answer. It has not been the thing that helps make the sorrow and the grief of this beautiful, aching world feel manageable.

The only thing that has helped has been community.

Being in community with other women.

It is the single action I can take that is capable of anchoring, nourishing, guiding and holding me.

I keep returning to the idea of a single ribbon tying us each to the other, all under the same mother moon, and it brings me more hope than I can really put into words.

On my MARK-MAKING CARE-TAKING course— a six week online course on creativity and (m)othering— my favourite activity explores this idea using a prompt I wrote and a passage from

Caro Giles

stunning book TWELVE MOONS.

I won’t share the prompt here because actually who knows, some of you might join us on the next course coming up in June (more soon!) but what I will say is this prompt has actually changed my own work in many ways. The responses written by (m)others in their reflections on it has guided me here. To this point where I know I am, with every decision I make about my own creative practice, taking a path way I never imagined I would.

A pathway away from the solitary writing life I craved for so long, towards a community of woman, standing all together, under the same moon.

We have reached May’s new moon; a time of fresh beginnings, to lay out our heart’s intentions, our deepest desires, and trust they will come to be.

A time of newness, and softness, and hope.

And so here are a few offerings I’ve been dreaming up as we journey into summer.

Firstly, on Wednesday 15th May 18.30-19.30 BST all (m)others who have done or are currently on MARK MAKING CARE TAKING are invited to meet each other in circle via zoom.

I will share a writing exercise at the beginning, and there will be room for sharing something you are working on, followed by discussion of upcoming opportunities, submission windows and so on.

This will be by voluntary donation.

To sign up , just mail inchwhooperswan@gmail.com

Next up I am overjoyed to introduce —

M O S S M O T H E R

M O O N

— a circle for women

We will gather together, in love and one-another-ness, to journal, explore dreams, and work with various decks of cards.

We will hold close the idea that WE ARE ALL MOTHERS HERE , and all women are welcome, whoever and whatever they give their mothering energy to.

This will be, I hope, a regular enough offering in and around some full moons, the first of which will be Thursday 23rd May 7-8 pm BST for May’s full flower moon.

There is a sliding scale for payment.

€8 low wage, €15 waged.

I am over the moon to gather under a full moon together.

Finally I am so excited to offer —

T H R E A D

— a monthly gealach (moon) gathering.

It will be close to the new moon each month, and I’ll email the zoom sign up link a week before.

This has been something I’ve been dreaming of for my paid community since winter solstice, and it’s beautiful to finally be able to offer it.

On the next new moon, Thursday 6th June, 18.30-19.30 BST, paid members are invited to gather together via zoom to explore the threads that tie us to each other.

My intention for this session is that we will be like moss; like fungi; like lichen; like trees; like moons; like kin.

I’ll share some writing I’ve loved on interconnectedness and one-another-ness, or an exercise, or maybe both.

There will be room for sharing where you are at with your own THREAD — what you are feeling at one with that night— and where you would like to make your way towards.

Honestly, even thinking about this sharing of kinship makes me feel a sense of hope I know I really need in this moment, perhaps you do too.

To sign up as a paid subscriber click here.

Holding each of you tenderly this morning,

Brightly x