A Modern Day Red Tent
I recently had the the privilege to attend a ceremony for my menarche. It was a privilege not only because my first period has looooong past, but my body is in the process of transitioning to it’s next phase. Basically, my days of bleeding are limited. What an incredible blessing to get to be held in sacred space to honor and hold the polarities of two transitions - one into my maiden era, and one into my queen era (that’s right, maiden, mother, queen, crone).
The ceremony, called Moonrise, was created by two incredible elders who recognized the gap in modern society of coming together in community to witness, hold, and celebrate each other at thresholds, in this particular instance, the power of the menarche. I could write an entire post on how profound the cycles of the female body are, how bleeding is not a ‘situation to handle.’ How we shouldn’t be sliding tampons up our sleeves or carry any shame or guilt about the beauty of our blood. I’m skating over the reality of the nuances for those in female bodies that don’t identify as female, but know that I see you, and I know it’s more complicated .
I left the Moonrise ceremony feeling seen and held in a way 11 year old Kerrie never was, in a way that opened this part of me to the wonder, awe, and magick of a threshold that was glazed over at the time. Of who I could be, of the choices I could make, of how amazing and wonderful I was just by being in this body and it’s natural rhythms. I also left with a yearning for more spaces of ceremony, not just for the menarche, but for any meaningful threshold. The opportunity to show up as a pillar of support in community to honor what is precious, what is lost, what is found, what is ending, what is beginning.
There are the staples of ceremony many recognize in our society - marriage, death, new life - but what if we came together to witness less obvious but equally impactful transitions? Like when a beloved one leaves a job, goes back to school, choses not to have kids, or has a breakthrough in their healing journey? We can’t spend all of our time in ceremony, but I would argue we could certainly spend more of it.
There are a few critical factors to make more ceremony possible:
1)Willingness to take up space. We have to be willing to reach out to our people and ask to take up space. This can be loaded - fear of rejection, fear of being seen, fear of opening up to receive. This is not an exhaustive list of fears, but it illuminates what keeps many of us from truly connecting and rooting into the deep community so many are yearning for.
2)Willingness to create space. We also need to agree to the sanctity of ceremony and it’s creation. This would require a willingness to make space in what for many are ‘busy’ lives. I use quotes because I would challenge what we qualify as worthy of our time. Reverence and devotion to gathering in spaces with the headline of ceremony is a must - we have to decide it’s important, to make time.
3)Willingness to engage wise space holders. There is also the aspect of wisdom keepers that is sorely missing for many of us. Most of us could probably use more elders in our lives in meaningful ways. We need to call upon the ones who have been through it, who have experienced more life than us, and invite their wisdom to sacred spaces. Ageism permeates American culture and we tend to value degrees and titles over lived experience and integrity of character. Ceremony requires a well tended space that is best held across generations.
Ceremony is our birth right. We deserve to be seen, celebrated, witnessed, and held in all of our most powerful moments - from grief to joy to transitions to endings to beginnings. So why aren’t we? My two biggest takeaways from Moonrise:
More elders, More ceremony.