There have been a few moments in the last few days, weeks when I think about it and yes I have to admit months where I felt I was at breaking point. I just couldn’t take anymore. I draw little symbols in my journal to explain what was going on - flames, birds and mighty lightning bolts.

I admit that sometimes I can overlook what is staring me in the face - even if it’s part of myself trying to tell myself something. Reading over my journal I notice the symbols which regularly appear over the months as flick back over the weeks the penny drops as I make the connection and the the menopausal lightbulb goes off.

The little sketched symbols - flames, birds and lightning are like an ancient language. Symbols which portray feelings, emotions - an attempt to make sense of them, to communicate them. If another woman stumbled into my cave would she feel at home there and be able to read my story on the walls? Might she make sense of the small ritual items might she feel a connection?

Those little symbols are something half the population of the world might be able to relate to at some point. I am not alone in my menopausal journey, I know I’m not alone in feeling that I am somehow losing a sense of self I have understood as ‘me’. Where is my community who honors this change? Who is at my side to reassure, initiate and make sense of all of this. Where are the stories, the traditions, the rituals and the ceremonies?

I have always aligned myself to the Bean Feasa tradition (the Irish Gaelic WIse Woman). In fact for a while I would claim it as my tradition (I am in fact far more Irish than Scottish). Yet this didn’t sit with me, I only know what I know of that tradition in books. And that’s ok. That linage still deeply inspires me in the symbolism of the gathering Bag. While those women had their own skills and ways of working I have mine.

My Gathering bag holds the magic and transformation of imagination and creativity and I draw on those old traditions and bring them into my world today as part of a Cultural Activism. My activism roots down into the tradition of the Bean Feasa and drawn upon ways of working which are much needed in our times - such as holding community keening circles to honor the grief we feel for the climate devastation and the unsurpassed injustices to women, animals and the land.

Carrier of the Stream

My first wave of initiation (long before I actually realized what was going on) was being called by old ancestral energies who called me to the top of a far flung Hebridean island and invited me to submerge myself under the waters of a loch. I did question what I was doing but i did it anyway.

Emerging from the Loch - An initiation unto myself

As parts of the word are devoured in fire flames of heat ripple through me. I am enraged at what is happening to the planet. I am not getting lost in who is to blame yet we do need to understand the roots of all the myriad of injustices of all the dominating power over structures - rather than the power with, the power shared.

I want to hear women’s stories of this initiation into themselves, this initiation with and for the planet. I want this change to matter, to mean something. I want to reclaim the stories and our menopausal experiences, I want to reclaim and embody this initiation and honor all that it offers. I want to explore all this creatively, to make art with sticks and stones, makes dolls that honor this sacred evolution.

I want to hold Menopause cafes where we drink herbal teas and discuss our relationship with those plants. I want to engage creatively with every feeling and insight. I want to breathe life and meaning into every experience I’m going through. I want to share the stories no longer told in our world - so lets share our passion - our grief, rage as we honor this ancient rite of menopause wherever you are on this journey

Links: Read the full article Carrier of a Stream