Held - July
Haddon Acre circle, 23rd July - our first circle in the yurt
Late July is at the start of harvest time — that point in the wheel of the year when abundance is in the air. But harvest was never something anyone did alone, and for most of human history, women didn't do life alone either. On our own we are vulnerable, so we lived in tribes, where each woman's strength adds to the whole. This circle is a small return to that — and there's something real happening in a room like this beyond company: our nervous systems actually start to sync with the people around us. A calm, steady room can genuinely help you feel calmer, just by being in it.
We grounded together with a roots meditation — imagining roots growing down from the soles of our feet, meeting the roots of the woman beside us, tangling gently underground until each of us was still fully herself, but no longer entirely separate. From there, a golden orb of light travelled slowly down through the body, melting tension away and settling into the heart.
We lit the candle with a blessing for the women who've held us, the ones who hold us now, and the ones yet to come, then moved into a guided visualisation: picturing everything heavy we'd carried in that evening set down gently in the centre of the circle, held by everyone rather than by any one woman alone.
Journaling turned us toward our own histories of being held — first memories of it, who holds us now, and whether we let help in easily or resist it. We passed our talking stick, for the spoken round, each woman sharing as much or as little as she wanted.
The middle of the evening moved into the body: a slow floor-based sequence through child's pose, cat-cow, sphinx, and finally Makarasana — crocodile pose, face down, fully supported by the earth. It's a shape of total surrender rather than performance, and we stayed there a while, letting the floor hold all of our weight.
We closed by tying friendship bracelets onto each other's wrists — a small, tangible reminder that being held doesn't need to be earned. The evening ended with a closing blessing and the candle blown out together, with an invitation to carry the practice forward: to let someone help with something small this week, without deflecting or insisting we're fine.
