The Heart and Soul of Women’s Writing Circles
What is the heart and soul of women’s writing circles? I ponder this question as we gather in our quiet, secluded space at the gorgeous Crozet Library. Our hands hold a life-story we have written in preparation at home. Each woman greets the other warmly as she arrives.
“Hope you’ve had a great two weeks.” “We missed you last time.” “How is your arthritis/pneumonia/or other recent ailment healing?” “Here’s the book I promised to bring you last time,” are some recent observations I’ve heard.
When we briefly catch up with everyone’s well-being, we transition to preparing to share our stories, written from thematic prompts given at our previous gathering two weeks earlier.
I feel a change within myself then—a melting away of all the information that flows like a river through my mind nearly all day, every day—sort of like turning off a news broadcast that leaves blessed silence in its place. A woman volunteers to read her story to begin our shared two hour gathering. I take a deep breath and exhale any stray interior distraction that might be lingering and prepare to fully listen to her words. She speaks her first sentence and everything else evaporates except her voice and the words of this story of her life. She reads through it all and when finished we spontaneously affirm whatever the story has stirred within us. “I’ve been in that place, too,” or “What a powerful story you’ve written,” or “My favorite part of the story was when you said, ‘this’ or ‘that.’”
I listen closely to my heart’s response to the story, then share those thoughts with each of our seven members. When I look around the circle at each woman, I see we are as diverse as apples on a tree. After we’ve read and heard and discussed all our stories, we plan our topic for the next gathering.
When we leave this place, we go home to different communities, different churches, and varied lifestyles. We have different ethnic backgrounds and dissimilar political ideals. We live alone or with family members or pets. Initially we seem at first to be so different. Yet each time we share stories from our lives—and share laughter, sadness or tears, or other emotions–comfort or celebration–we form a richer bond. We discover we are not so different, after all.
Recently, we each shared “The Story I Don’t Want to Write.” Two weeks later at our next meeting, we realized we’d opened a clearer, deeper bond with each other. We knew from previous gatherings that we had difficult stories to tell. And, we knew our space was filled with our trust, respect, and confidentiality.
I pondered our time together that afternoon while driving home. We each heard and responded to our stories with such honor, support, and compassion. Some women had also shared their own connecting threads with a particular story. And I wondered—life-long mystery reader that I am—what was that silent, deeper layer between us? After all, women have been sharing their stories for centuries.
When the answer came to my heart, I knew it was absolutely right.
What is the heart and soul of women’s writing circles? Our time together is not only nurturing, it is sacred.