Here is a story of embodying the Maiden, Mother & Crone

The bodies of women are so deeply connected to the land, to the moon. We are like a spiral of cycles within cycles - our bodies ebb and flow - we bring forth the generations. We have within ourselves a sort of an ocean in which we nurture our young - birthing them in a rush like the tide. We learn about how we are powerful, and we learn about how we are powerless in near equal measure. We bleed, and yet do not die - a miracle that is often swept under the rug - hidden away and diffused. We are ourselves miracles, and yet we can drown in thoughts of never being good enough, and needing to prove our worth.

I once entered a dark realm where death looked me in the face. In that place I was stripped of everything that I thought made me who I was. All of the superficial trappings of the most fundamental feminine qualities were withered away. There was grief there. Strangely, there was joy too. Joy in the realization that all of the trappings did not encompass my essential self, joy in the realization that I was in fact more free than I ever imagined. I walked out, bald, one breasted, body dry - a Crone. Yes, a Crone, though not quite an elder, with a deeper appreciation of my own worth. This was the path of a breast cancering initiate.

Being initiated by cancer changed everything - and led to a commitment to radical self love and acceptance.

Menstruation is one of the trappings that changed, my periods abruptly ceased due to chemo induced menopause at age 43. This unleashed a vast well of conflicting feelings within me. How women feel about their moon time is complicated to say the least. Over the years since my first period at age 12, I have wrestled with all kinds of emotions around my moon: from; "Whoa I am a woman now. . . Whoa." To the moments of intense celebration over a the appearance of a late period when newly sexually active; "Yay! I'm not Pregnant!!!" to the grief wrought by a miscarriage of a much wanted baby. Bleeding has been sacred, and a mundane inconvenience, and everything in between. I mourned the absence of my periods when they stopped.

When my cycle returned at age 46 after a hiatus of three years, I wanted to celebrate its arrival back on the scene. After descending into the darkness of mystery during cancer treatments, and becoming a crone - somehow my body had decided to voyage back into the realm of a more fecund nature. I was being reunited with a part of myself that had been lost. It felt like some sort of enormous cosmic retrograde, the gift of a chance to heal the wounds of womanhood.

A self care ritual to honor this return to sacred moon-time was called forth. The ritual needed to fit into a busy life. Taking an entire day in retreat sounded wondrous, but not practical. Thinking back to the worlds my children created with their imaginations, a new ritual evolved- The Red Tent Project.

I began creating small and ephemeral art installations during my moon cycle, tiny tents erected somewhere outside in nature. The red silk of the tent is colored with the magical roots of Rubia tinctorium - Madder. The structure holding the silk is always formed from sticks and other plants gathered from the area where the tent is made, and always bring additional meaning and messages to the experience. The tent holds space and time for creating, and reverence for nature. Time-out-of-time to connect with all the ancestors, the healing plants, the women of now, and the women yet to come.

The ritual of creating the tents, from finding the right location and plant allies and connecting to place, to photographing them, and then writing down insights the particular tent brings about, usually takes anywhere from 30 minutes to a few hours. This practice inspires moments of mindfulness throughout the days following, bringing additional benefit.

The very first tent was made on a hot dry day in late summer, some of the trees were starting to release a few of their leaves, in a prelude to autumn. I used dry sticks trimmed from a butterfly bush to form the poles of that first red tent installation. Carefully gathering and arranged leaves to form a little bed inside. The work immersed me in the smells, sounds and textures of the natural world under the maple trees in the yard. Allowing time to imagine being small enough to fit inside the tent, tiny, warm and peaceful.

After a while I returned inside the house to continue my tasks of the day, pausing every now and then to look out the window and breath back into the imaginary realm within the Red Tent.

From the start I have often posted pictures on Instagram of the tents I make, as a playful invitation to other women who may be menstruating at the same time. Sharing the work as a means of connecting to the pulse of the divine feminine and our collective womanhood. Inspired by the tent practice, I started growing Rubia tinctorium, in order to learn from the plant directly. Growing Madder is a commitment, as the roots take several years to mature enough to produce good reds. Over time my connection to Queen Madder has intensified, until she has become one of my biggest teachers. Through the ephemeral door of the tent, Queen Madder opens up a portal into a place of more gentleness.

When looking out the window at one of the tents, or even glancing at a photo of one, a slowing of time happens for me. The tents give permission to pause, to take a deep breath. Perhaps most people could benefit from having the permission to pause more often, benefit from honoring our bodies with ritual on a regular basis. Perhaps our health would improve if we did so. Sharing this private ritual is offered with the intention that it be of such benefit to others.

This is from an Instagram post in October 2020

Red Tent with Cat:
”Madder dyed silk and wool, Hazel poles, windfall Lichens, and Maple leaves.

These are potent magical times beloveds. The veils between the worlds are very thin, the skies are filled with messages, and emotions are running high all around. Come into the Red Tent for a rest.

Queen Madder reminds us to tend first to the self, for only then can we give our gifts to the world. Hazel speaks of generosity, there is more than enough if we share. Maple of honoring the ebb and flow of the seasons, and the Lichens speak of community, cooperation, and interdependence. And Cat? This one speaks of nine lives and healings. "Keep faith, the unexpected miracles may yet come to pass."

May you nap often, and purr in your own unique way.

May your week have moments of calm slow care of your own sweet self. May your connections to others be easy, and all your needs be met.”

A traveling Red Tent in Austin Texas - with broom weed dyed silk floor erected among blooming broom weed, with a floor made of a silk dyed a saturated golden yellow with the broom weed flowers. The weather was heavy and thick with moisture, just a few weeks after Hurricane Harvey had devastated Houston.

From the moment the new self care ritual became rooted in my life it has held healing power. The little Red Tents are a sort of recovery tool for me, as well as a tool for empowerment and deepening my connection to nature and my own body. I have made nearly fifty tents since this started, each one different. While most of the tents are created in our yard, some of the most impactful tents have been created while traveling. So far I have made tents in many places around the Pacific Northwest, in Oregon, Washington, Vancouver BC, as well as in Texas, Michigan and in Germany.

What started as means to honor the return of my bleeding, to engage with liminal space with a private ritual, has blossomed into a bigger dream. I can not help but wonder, what it would be like if this sort of ritual was more widely practiced? What form would it take in the imaginations of others? What if the naturally dyed silks could become a sort of talisman for people? A reminder to themselves to take a little extra time for reflection, relaxation and play during their sacred moon time. What if the little red tents could become a movement of self acceptance and love? Not only for women who bleed, but perhaps for all people who are drawn to it?

Ceremonial dyed red tent silks on the line

I feel very drawn to dyeing these ritual cloths to offer to others, and periodically dye small batches. Each silk starts with Queen Madder, then much like choosing the other supporting plants when building a tent, I choose other plants to provide additional energetic potency to the cloth. Often warming Yarrow to help hold energetic boundaries, Yarrow has also been used to regulate menses, Generous Red Alder supports digestion, and letting go of all that does not serve, Roses are added for love, and at times a splash of homemade blackberry wine - to remind us that it is okay to have protective thorns, so that we might better savor our sweetness. (You can purchase one of the silks here.)

It is a joy to send these red silk missives out into the world, offering them to those who are drawn to the Red Tent idea, of committing to creating a self care ritual for themselves.

In years past I have offered New Moon Red Tent Retreats along with my dear friend Kestrel Gates, who authored a beautiful postpartum workbook, Build Your Nest. During these events women came together to explore self care. Using story telling, craft, and time in nature to facilitate space for being deeply nurtured. The emergence of Queen Madder as teacher has been an important component of the work as it has evolved.

These retreats taught me that however you might choose to take care of yourself, the intention to evoke a little more fierce self love, will always be just exactly the right way. Spending time in the wise company of women in all phases of their lives in this way has been a privilege that I treasure, and long for again. The Red Tent is so needed in the world!

Madder Red Silks have a multitude of possibilities beyond making tiny tents.

As a gift to a young woman just starting her moon journey
As a welcome to womanhood for a trans woman
As a comforting wrap around the belly womb during menses or postpartum
As an altar cloth
As a cloth for lying out tarot or oracle readings
Hanging on a doorframe as a signal to household members to honor away time
As a talisman kept in a bag or pocket
As part of a ceremony for a new mother who is returning to bleeding after the post baby hiatus
For women who no longer bleed to reconnect with herself and the rhythms of the moon phases
To wrap the belly after a hysterectomy
As a symbol for to the self, a reminder to be gentle to oneself while the spiritual portals are more open for what ever reason. . . .

Cloth becomes sacred when we use it in ceremony.

I look forward to witnessing where these little red silks may take us next.

Red Tent Origin Story

Here is a story of embodying the Maiden, Mother & Crone