Public Goddess Gatherings by Caryn MacGrandle

I swat at her like an annoying fly.  ‘Stop it.  I’m good. I’m very happy.  Go away.’

I took a part time security gig on the weekends to bring in some extra cash, and they sent me out to direct traffic at a holiday outdoor market here.  150 booths of incredible, local, organic, home-made, natural items.  Right up my alley.

The festival started at noon.  And the steady stream of cars started.  By 12:45pm, the entire parking lot was filled, several football fields long: a Dave and Busters, a Wahlburgers and a Trader Joe’s sharing the same area.  All their spaces filled too. 

The policeman came by and said he was closing the main entry.  It was backing up traffic on the main street, and there was nowhere left for them to park.

He left open the back out-of-the-way entrance, and they kept on coming.

They had a couple of characters dressed up walking around.  ‘Elf’ passed me, a worthy Will Farrell impression, looking around at the massive amount of people, eyes wide and exclaimed, ‘Wow! Just wow.  Would you look at this?!?”

Yes.  Look at this.

And what were they all there to do?

Buy shit.  Eat.  Go home.

There was one man playing a guitar.  And that was it, the rest was commercial in nature.

And it occurred to me just how starved people are for community and things to do.

*

I’ve been hosting Circles for almost a decade.  After seven years of hosting when I lived in the Western suburbs outside Chicago, they culminated to nothing short of amazing.  Eight to nine incredible women coming and bringing their talents.  The Circles forming themselves.  I arranged the spot, at a local healing center or sometimes outside, held the rim, and the Circle did the rest.

Themes formed.  Conversations swirled, eddied, rose, dissipated.  Mists of inspiration. Laughter. Tears.  Connection.  We learned things.  We offered things. 

And then I moved down South to outside of Huntsville, Alabama.  In the midst of Covid.  To a military industrial complex town.  I thought I would be back to where I was in no time, but here I am four years later, hosting at my home most times with one or two others. 

I actually don’t mind.  I love Circles and find them essential in my life.  I hosted one on Saturday and one other person, a long time regular came.  We had an amazing time. 

Circles are not size dependent.  I figured that one out a long time ago.  In fact, smaller is usually better.  And once you get over the ego’s need to equate success with attendance, I find I care little about who or how many attend.  I set the intention that whoever needs it will find it.  And I let it go.

I’m perfectly happy with this. 

Except Mom has been whispering in my ear.

*

I swat at her like an annoying fly.  ‘Stop it.  I’m good. I’m very happy.  Go away.’

*

‘But they need this medicine,’ she whispers.

*

I am feeling called to help start arranging Public Goddess Gatherings. Hosted preferably in a public spot where people can hear what is going on and join if they want to.  A downtown public park would be perfect. Except that we are entering winter.  But maybe a busy community center. A shopping mall. But somewhere we don’t have to pay for. Low cost. Low prep.

Three other conMadres who will hold the rim with me. 

We meet a daybreak and close the Circle. Set the intention.

‘Let them see. Let them hear. Let them come. A better way.  A balance. ‘

I have seen over and over that the biggest thing we need right now is each other. We are all on the same page. I spent thousands to attend the Parliament of the World Religions, and what made the biggest impression was not the sages on the stage (and there were many impressive ones), but the individuals that I met. A panel where at the end, we broke to small Circles, and women cried over how much they needed that small five minute Circle.

They cried.

*

After setting the intention for the day, we move some energy by spending twenty minutes singing, chanting or drumming. Like you, I know hundreds of Goddess songs. I smile when my daughters sing along, so much more worthy than Olivia Rodrigo insipid lyrics. Unlike those, these words plant strength.  They plant personal power. 

Someone speaks for a short five or ten minutes explaining why we are here or perhaps what they do and have been doing. We do a short five to ten minute centering meditation.

And then we break to four to five people circles. We have handouts with Circle principles on them.  And a list of suggested topics. ‘What do you do for community?  What does community mean to you? What do the words Sacred Feminine mean to you?’ 

They are just starting points. Each Circle has a host who ensures what is important: that the Circle stays balanced with each person having the opportunity to talk. And that we listen without responding or interrupting. 

This is so very simple that I have forgotten that people at large do not know how to communicate this way.

It is life changing.

In my failing second marriage, the only time I truly felt we were able to communicate was when I forced him to use a talking stick with me. In ‘ordinary’ conversation, we spend so much time fighting for our time to speak or being run over by more extroverted personalities. 

It has been one of the hardest things for me to learn: to stay silent when someone says something that resonates or something I feel I must add to. I bite my tongue and jot down a note. And nine times out of ten, when the Circle comes back round to me, the burning urge to say it has passed or someone else has said it or something more pressing rises up to be spoken. 

A Circle is a living breathing entity of its own. 

It is more than the sum of its parts. 

It is community.

*

And then we come back together and repeat.

Music. Short inspiration.  Short meditation. Break to Circles.

Repeat.

*

Who’s in?