Circle Facilitator
New York
"You can do as much personal work as you want, but until you bring it to the collective or the communal, there's still that ache. We need each other. We need to know our rituals, how we’re grounding, how we’re supporting our families. That’s the sacred work."
What brought you to this work?
My endless fascination in life is this idea of existential loneliness. There are thinkers who call this era “the age of loneliness,” and I find it compelling because loneliness as a human condition is actually a relatively recent phenomenon. I experience loneliness often, yet I’m also good at creating community, so I’m curious about what that ache is, both in me and in others. The other side of loneliness is belonging and I’m a lifelong student of what belonging means and feels like. I'm interested in this feeling of awe and wonder and enchantment with being alive - just being alive on this planet, which has miraculous conditions for life. And what does that mean?
How did this lead you to circling?
I grew up in a western suburban family and I didn’t have a real sense of family values and village vibes, and I know that I am not alone in that. So this led me discover a practice called Women’s Circles. There is something very special about circling with women that has re-enchanted me with being a woman, being a child of this earth, and being attuned to the moon and tides. Circling with women has healed a lot in me around being vulnerable, safe and connected. Since my first circle 15 years ago, I’ve wanted to make this practice more mainstream, because circles often get a “goddess macramé” reputation, which I actually love, but I believe they are for everyone.
What is a women's circle?
Circling is a lost art form and it is a way to rekindle our ability to be relational beings in a time where our social interactions are less and less because of devices and the pace of life. A circle is inherently non-hierarchical meaning everyone is equal. There’s confidentiality, no interrupting, and equal time to share. These micro-healings add up to deep relational healing, especially in a time when spontaneous connection is rare.
How can people work with you?
Right now, my focus is on the land I steward but people can read my book, Root and Ritual: Timeless Ways to Connect with Land, Lineage, Community, and the Self. Those four areas are a framework I developed from my own life, ways to cultivate belonging where you live, in your community, and in your body. It is full of journal prompts, crafts, and simple herbal projects to help people reconnect. I hold in-person circles in the Hudson Valley and occasionally host retreats, like Rooted Magic, one I hosted at Kripalu in the Fall. I teach a course called Circle Craft, to help people start their own circle in their community, whether as a facilitator or simply to deepen friendships. There’s a self-study version anytime, and I’ll run a live cohort this winter.
You describe circles as non-hierarchical, yet there’s still a facilitator. How does that work?
The framework is non-hierarchical, in the sense you may be the holder of the space, but the way I was taught through the work of Jean Shinola Bolen was that even if you are holding the space you are not in charge. You’re responsible for the container but it's a different energetic experience than being a teacher. The center is held by the altar or flame or spirit of the circle, and everyone else is on the edge, holding the rim. Many of us are yearning for a world that is working together more, so it’s a way of trying that on and seeing what comes up for you. Are you nervous? Do you want to be in charge? Or do you relax into it? It's a place to really experiment with that in your body.
Who are some of your teachers?
There are so many. Jean Shinoda Bolen, Nisha Moodley, Jenny Muir, Katina Mercadante, Karen Ward (who I sat with in circles in Ireland) and Shelby Leigh, who teaches trauma-informed space holding. And Gemma Brady, who runs Sister Stories in the UK. She approaches circle work from her background in documentary film, focusing on the art of listening. I love that.
What led you to this path?
I worked in tech and marketing in San Francisco and had started a DIY blog called The Dabblist. That blog took me from crafts to herbalism and then that tumbled me right into a more spiritual relationship with the earth, which tumbled me into belonging work and then tumbled me into this work of circling and interpersonal connections and global healing through relationships. Then motherhood was the real catalyst. I was already feeling lonely when I became pregnant, and the pandemic hit, which amplified everything. I felt how wrong it was to be so isolated during such a vulnerable time. Motherhood showed me how much we’ve lost the village. That pain inspired my book. And then the wildfires in California made me realize how deep our disconnection is from each other and the earth.
Why is personal healing important for community work?
I think it's really not complete until you bring it to the collective and to relationships because we are relational beings. Like the way the mycelium network wraps around this earth, the way the tree roots talk to each other, that's us too. You can do as much personal work as you want, but until you bring it to the collective or the communal, there's still going to be that ache. For some of us, it's the hardest practice especially if you have relational trauma. There are such beautiful community practices that can help you remember in your body what it means to be woven into a collective village container, like circling or family constellations. Especially now, in what I’d call a time of collapse, we need each other. We need to know each other’s rituals, how we’re grounding, how we’re supporting our families. That’s sacred work.
What are some of your personal rituals?
Becoming a mother obliterated my morning ritual, but once a week I still manage a quiet morning with tea, meditation, and journaling. I lead and attend monthly circles. I make time for regular dates with friends and my partner. Recently, a few of us formed a small “coven” of herbalist friends: we gather at each cross-quarter holiday to make medicine together. But for me it's about what is realistic because I've disappointed myself enough times by setting unrealistic goals around self-care and cup filling. So I think more in moon or six week cycle, and I find I am a lot gentler on myself and actually fulfill what I need.
What makes something a ritual?
I was taught that ritual is simply an action with intention. So it is something you do that has meaning to you. Since having my daughter I have also reframed it into making the mundane experience of life more magical. It doesn’t have to be elaborate. Lighting a candle before dinner and naming what you’re thankful for. Taking your first sip of water in the morning and asking it to nourish you.
What do you keep on your altar?
Our home has many altars, thanks to my daughter, who’s always arranging stones and teacups. Our main altar has ancestor photos, special objects, and a coyote bone she found.
What about your bedside?
A drawing from my daughter, my dream journal, books, and phone chargers, and some crystals, of course.
What’s the best advice you’ve ever received?
My number one is “the only way to it is through it.” You have to walk through the fire. And also “this too shall pass. Life is always in a season. You’re never trapped.”
What books do you recommend?
The Millionth Circle by Jean Shinoda Bolen (it’s short, almost poetic)
The Mists of Avalon by Marion Zimmer Bradley (fiction, but a beautiful reimagining of myth and feminine mystery)
And anything by Sophie Strand, especially The Madonna Secret and The Flowering Wand
