Maybe my subliminal interest in creating these circles is the idea that for each one created and finished, there is another that allows you to start over again. It’s sort of similar comparable to the prisoner marking off the days of his/her sentence with strokes on the walls of the cell that confines them - an expression of the dream for freedom at the end. Seems a weird analogy, but that's what has come to mind! Although I have no conceptual or tangible end in sight for these circles, their construction is becoming part of my regular routine, and perhaps helps to address the anxiety and disruption being caused to everyone by the ominous presence of Covid-19, a sword hanging over the heads of us all – with the anxiety caused by restrictions to our family visits and social lives.
"For patriarchy to become balanced by the discerning wisdom and compassion that are associated with the feminine aspects of humanity, and by the indigenous wisdom and relatedness to all living things and to the planet, that shift will come… "(p.1)
It also brings me to an ever-deepening understanding and consciousness of the "still point", that can be reached in the ritual act of forming a women's spirituality circle, where the candle or symbol for the season sits in the middle. Or, as in the spiral dance, when walking or dancing the spiralling line to the centre, there is also a reversal to the outer edge. Our ancestors knew the significance of the spiral form coming as it does from the natural world, where everything dies off, goes underground and returns with renewed vigour. As a ritualised process for coming to a deeper understanding of the self-in-the-world, and re-connecting with self as inherently part of the natural world, the spiral can be found by numerous representations across cultures and time, from the earliest circles of standing stones to the fine masonry work inlaid in the floor of Chartres Cathedral.
These actions and movements allow us to reach a point of clarity, one of total realisation that is at once a release, a return, and offers a new beginning. It is 'where we face ourselves...and claim the song that is mine,' as the poem by Janice Mirikitani reveals (Where bodies are buried). Then I'm reminded of the seemingly paradoxical couplet from T.S. Elliot that, (when the dust settles), reiterate the sentiment of return and renewal: 'At the still point of the world, there the dance is.' For me both these sentiments hold the tension and irony of living with a potentially fatal disease, while attempting to live a 'normal' life - whatever that may be!
Obviously I will not be making a million circles - probably around 20 till I reach the still point and move on - but the idea of the final formation of the circles taking on the movement of a spiral is very appealing. Other ideas have become linger too. We will see. But first, here are some of the circles, in two colourways.
