Circles

With some trepidation, after attending the Men With Heart exhibition on Thursday, I put my name down for a mixed 'circle' which was to take place the following night. It meant another trip to town, and staying overnight because I avoid night driving here; there are too many of our precious native animals that are nocturnal. Too much roadkill. So, I was challenged because it was going to cost me to do this. Accommodation, fuel, time. But I really wanted to be part of it so I went for it.

I was a little nervous because I wasn't sure what to expect. I've read a bit about women's circles and have thought about how much I'd like to attend one or even learn to run one myself. So I was really interested in going along to find out more about how they might work. I was nervous about what might be required of me. I was nervous about being embarrassed in some way. I was nervous about hearing things I didn't want to hear. I was nervous about being looked at. I was nervous about being found lacking in some way. I guess it's like any of us trying anything new. Insecurities raise themselves up and old stories we tell ourselves get stuck on replay again. 

On arrival I found a circle of chairs in the space right inside the front of the building. Large glass windows. Dark outside. Passers by could see in. The circle would essentially be 'on stage' although I trusted what was being said would not be heard outside. I moved in tentatively and placed my bag under one of the chairs that was remote from those occupied; the other side of the circle. I didn't sit there but was engaged in conversation by a lovely man who proved to be the one who wrote for the grant that funded the exhibition (which, incidentally, took some three and a half years to bring to fruition). He was so friendly and welcoming and I soon felt much less nervous and more 'at home'. Other people came in dribs and drabs and before long most of the chairs were filled. I took a deep breath and moved to where I had put my bag, now flanked by two men I'd never met before. Brief introductions ensued and we waited for things to begin.

The facilitator took his place and outlined a few rules of conduct to ensure confidentiality and safety for everyone. We were asked to answer three simple questions; What brought you here? How are you feeling? What do you hope to take away from this? Participants were invited to speak one at a time when they were ready. 

To be in a group like that with the invitation to speak creates some angst. Do I jump in and go first to get the ball rolling? When I was younger that is what I would tend to do, in part to get it over with  and in part to make it easier for everyone else. I've grown some insight over the years and now usually choose to wait and allow others to speak first. I waited.

Both men and women shared their answers to those simple questions, and in so doing, also shared parts of who they were. Life experiences and perspectives were laid on the space within the circle while we, the not-speaking people, the listeners, watched and waited. Of course I am not at privilege to share any part of any of those stories, but I will say that they touched my heart and perhaps opened it a little. I was reminded of how very human each of us is and how vulnerable we are to the ups and downs of life. I was also reminded of the vital need for each of us to make and feel connection with others. Some of those words spoken that night might not have reached the ears of a fellow human before. How humbling it was to be part of that. 

Of course, I said my few words eventually, when the time felt right. I felt heard. I felt listened to. I felt seen. It was good. Because even though the questions were simple, there was an invitation to share a story. It was good to share and have my story respected and honoured by the telling and the receiving. Nodded heads and acknowledgements. They meant a lot to me.

The facilitator was the last one in the group to share. It was only meant to be an hour, but it took longer. We might have stayed longer and asked more questions of ourselves, but this was only a glimpse; a chance to try this thing on and see if it fitted somehow.

Fifteen random people came together (if I've counted right - each face remains a treasure in my memory) and got real for the hour and a half it took for everyone to share. I can only imagine the depths to which circles can take us if we remain for longer in that space and give people the time they need and the questions to help them explore and express their experience of being human. This is 'round the campfire' stuff. When we feel enfolded by the dark, cosy arms of circle and focus on the light space in the middle where we meet on common ground, we can share secrets and longings that don't meet easily with the light of day. There is no doubt it brings us closer both to others and to ourselves. Circles are not something new, but perhaps they are something we lost. It's good to see them coming back.

I'm on the list for possible future mixed circles. I have an invitation to join with a women's circle. Perhaps I will explore the idea of starting one close to home. The potential for personal growth is huge. The relief of sharing a story that weighs heavily can be huge. The bonding with other humans without the veil of alcohol or pretense is huge. I'm feeling excited for the future.

What experience have you had with circles? I'd really love to hear.

Much love

Kerry