The Sanctuary of One Another by Molly Remer

53850207_2292227257656150_5800641319395131392_o“Please prepare me
to be a sanctuary.
Pure and holy
tried and true.
With thanksgiving
I’ll be a living
for you.”*

Beautiful Chorus (Hymns of Spirit)

In March, my husband drove our daughter into town to work at her Girl Scout cookie booth and released me to prepare for an all-day Red Tent retreat for my local women’s circle. After I packed my supplies for ritual, I set off on a walk in the deepening, rain-dark twilight. As I walked, I sang a song of sanctuary over and over, until I felt transported into a different type of consciousness, my feet steady on muddy gravel, the leafless branches stark against grey sky, moss and stones gleaming with sharp color against the roadside. A fallen tree absolutely carpeted with enchanting mushrooms caught my eye and invited me off the road and into its arms. As I stood there, feeling as if I had stepped out of ordinary reality and into a “backyard journey,” the spring peepers in the ephemeral pool in our field began their evening chorus. It has been so cold out with below freezing temperatures, snow, and ice for days since first hearing them in early March that I actually wondered if they would survive to continue their song.

Mercifully, though, it is not a silent spring.

The next day, I gathered with a circle of powerful women in a log house on a hill, 53482275_10218642389320916_1731221185812758528_noverlooking a deep meadow. The sky was heavy with rain, which tolled sorrowfully and heavily across the landscape. The landscape of being in our circle was also heavy and tearful. Pain and struggle was waiting below the surface of each woman in the circle, waiting, waiting, waiting for a safe space in which to be expressed. It had been three months since we last circled together, and it was easy to see how we missed this outlet for expression and connection. After we sang our promise of sanctuary to one another, the tears began, the secrets of our lives were brought forward, and we learned that our shames and our sufferings are not solitary experiences after all. After each woman’s turn with the rattle, we noted that the sky reflected our mood, hanging gray and somber, heavy and full of emotion, wet with tears, overflowing our banks, flooding through us. After each person spoke and a silence of release and relief fell, a shaft of sunlight entered the skylight and gradually the whole room became illuminated as the rain clouds lifted. We scurried outside and turned our faces to the sun. The sky, and our hearts, had each shed a burden and now the light had room to shine.

Later in the afternoon, we received a member of the circle who is training with a 53543288_2286419448236931_7566819639167025152_oPeruvian shaman. As we each spoke these words of healing, hands laid gently on the bellies of our sisters, the wind began to whirl and stir. The logs of the house creaked as if something was trying to enter and at time the whole house seemed to shake. As the last women received their rite, the power flickered and went out. We went outside to the deck, circled anew in the wind, leaves dancing around our heads and in our hair. We whispered affirmations to one another, the words twining in the air and around our faces like threads of floating magic. We then passed through a birth canal of our joined hands whispering, “I believe in you” to each woman as she passed through, re-entering the dimming light of the electricity-dark living room. After singing again, we gathered our belongings, exchanged hugs, and slipped out into the deepening dusk, humbled and awed by the visceral, direct, and responsive presence of the elements within this circle of hands, hearts, and bodies.

“Ritual  provides us with a way of taking responsibility for our lives through the use of a metaphoric process. At the time of a milestone or rite of  passage, we can shift our focus from the minutiae of the event to the  way the experience fits into the grand plan of life. The creativity,  drama, and perceptual shift connected with the ritual enable us to disidentify with the isolation, confusion, or fear associated with the passage and to know instead the power of creativity, action, and understanding.”

—from The Art of Ritual by Renee Beck and Sydney Metrick

*Note: regarding Sanctuary song. As someone who was not raised Christian, I am not familiar with this hymn in any other setting than what I describe here. I recognize that for other people with different religious backgrounds this hymn may hold other memories, positive or negative.

Molly Remer has been gathering the women to circle, sing, celebrate, and share since 53747485_2286272294918313_8837729538982019072_o2008. She plans and facilitates women’s circles, seasonal retreats and rituals, mother-daughter circles, family ceremonies, and red tent circles in rural Missouri and teaches online courses in Red Tent facilitation and Practical Priestessing. She is a priestess who holds MSW, M.Div, and D.Min degrees and wrote her dissertation about contemporary priestessing in the U.S. Molly and her husband Mark co-create Story Goddesses, original goddess sculptures, ceremony kits, and jewelry at Brigid’s Grove. Molly is the author of WomanrunesEarthprayer, She Lives Her Poems, and The Red Tent Resource Kit and she writes about thealogy, nature, practical priestessing, and the goddess at Patreon and at Brigid’s Grove.

Author: Molly Remer

Molly Remer, MSW, D.Min, is a priestess, mystic, and poet facilitating sacred circles, seasonal rituals, and family ceremonies in central Missouri. Molly and her husband Mark co-create Story Goddesses at Brigid’s Grove ( Molly is the author of nine books, including Walking with Persephone, Whole and Holy, Womanrunes, and the Goddess Devotional. She is the creator of the devotional experience #30DaysofGoddess and she loves savoring small magic and everyday enchantment.

9 thoughts on “The Sanctuary of One Another by Molly Remer”

  1. Thank Goddess it is not a silent spring! Bright blessings to every woman in your circle.

    BTW, where are you in rural Missouri? I remember deep spirit in the Ozarks.


  2. Beautiful storytelling – I am struck by the experience you had with the wind because during times of ritual I too have experienced the wind as a force of spirit energy – all the elements including wind and water are elements that are more than metaphor – they manifest in concrete ways in my experience. Every living thing speaks when we open our hearts and bodies…

    Liked by 2 people

  3. I counted at least 12 women standing in the circle in that beautiful photo you’ve shared, and thanks for your pictures, Molly, and your very delightful post.

    Sometimes at FAR, it does seem like we are sitting in a women’s circle. In your photo, the diversity of the women seem very much like all of us posting our comments here, so diverse and yet equally creative. Here at FAR, however, one writer might be sitting on the Atlantic coast and the next comment might be written by someone on the Pacific coast. That’s the magic of the Internet, Wow!

    Liked by 1 person

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