I just posted this image on FB. There is a rage and rising within the sisterhood. And we need it. In these times and all times. We stand on the shoulders of outrageous and outraged women who have come and gone before us, for women have long been the keepers of communities in balance and right relationship.
I wrote a story about this for my new book, A Call To Crone. It’s just below. It’s a story inspired by the many times I’ve listened to musician Christy Barry share his story of growing up in Doolin and having the community gather in the thatched cottages to dance through the night. It’s also inspired by a knowing that the women were the ones who attended the health and well being of their people. Especially our mystic ancesstresses who kept their tribes and their people woven with the harmonies of the Earth and with each other. So I took the liberty to weave both inspirations in this story to honor the women who wove a harmony for their people.
The knowing of it was now strong in her. There was no special occasion, no celebration of either life or death. But Máirín knew there was a need for it and she put out the call that quickly spread through the village.
That evening after dusk and the day’s work done, her neighbors made their way to one of the thatched roof stone cottages. They gathered to share stories and perhaps a clay pipe but most of all they gathered to dance. The concertina was taken from the small alcove in the hearth where the warmth of the stones kept it dry. The fiddle was tuned, the dance sets were chosen, and the dancers checked that the short nails were secure in the soles of their shoes. As the nails set a rhythm on the flagstone floor, music and movement filled the room.
Music well played was important but it was all in service to the dance. For it was all about the dance, the rhythm of the dance that flowed through the dancers as they moved together in unity and harmony, set upon set and hour upon hour into the night. The rhythm of the dance became the heartbeat of the people. The rhythm of the dance restored their spirit.
With the growing light of dawn, the people returned to their homes to get ready for another day of work. They had danced through the night but they were not tired as a renewed spirit and energy was in them. Máirín smiled quietly to herself. The heart of her people was again strong.
May we weave wisdom and harmony for our people and may their hearts be strong.
Judith – firstname.lastname@example.org