A few months ago, after a particularly rich teaching session of Circle Leader Training, I set out on a mission.
 
I strained to pick up the worn and heavy box containing 14 years of my journals. After having moved with me to five different cities, this old box had been sitting in a corner of my bedroom, making itself known for months. I carefully climbed down the ladder from my bedroom into the kitchen with the cumbersome box under my arm. It was already late. My beloved slept as I carried this box outside, under the stars, and lit a fire.
 
Not particularly adept at fire building, it took time and patience, which was helpful, actually, because what I was about to do was radical (for me, anyway) and I needed time to build up the inner readiness.
 
I’d been thinking of burning my old journals for years and never quite felt ripe to do it. But something had changed in me; the time was right. I was itching to send these tattered books, filled to the brim with thoughts and dreams and poetry and heartaches and big plans and to-do lists (so many to-do lists!), into their next adventure.
 
When the fire finally got some momentum, I stood there taking in the heat of the moment & I prayed that all I was meant to have and remember from these past 14 years was living in me. I said thank you to all the experiences I have had and all the versions of myself I have been.
 
I picked up the first book, chosen randomly, and began to tear the pages out, catching glimpses of phrases on some of the pages as they made their way into the flames.
 
As I tore the pages out and offered them to the fire, I saw visions of moments I had lived. Faces I had nearly forgotten flashed big smiles at me through the flames. Flavors of somewhat foreign feelings remembered themselves in me. I remembered versions of myself I had honestly not thought of in years. How strange to realize how much you’ve changed, all while staying the same.
 
I hadn’t remembered how much poetry I had written. I do believe poetry is the way the feminine expresses through words. I didn’t think of it in those terms back then, but I must have known. Most of it was…well, not the greatest. But it was honest and unpretentious. I appreciated that.
 
Sometimes, I saw a line or two that made me smile, like this one: “I want to live inside the pages of your book. I know it’s used, but I love the smell.”
 
As I watched the hundreds and hundreds of pages curl and burn and turn to ash, my insides stirred.
 
I observed the diversity of journal covers, I smiled. One with a line of Emerson’s about flowers, another decorated with a picture of John Lennon and Yoko Ono in bed, another rather small one with Ganesha, another with something about believing in your dreams. Each and everyone had spoken deeply to me at the time of use. Since childhood it has been a beloved ritual of mine to find a new journal when I had filled all the pages of the last one. Writing really is, and always has been, the primary way I have for understanding what the hell is going on inside of me.
 
There was a lot of pain in the air that night. People and dreams I had invested my love into, with sometimes catastrophic returns. I envisioned a Phoenix rising from the ash.
 
In the tearing and burning, I noticed a passion for life in those pages. As hard as I often was on myself, I was always living full. Throwing myself into each experience and allowing myself to feel in a big way. I was hungry and willing.
 
One of the lines I threw into the flames was from a best friend who I’ve known since I was a kid. With equal parts hope and doubt, he said to me, “I hope you find what you are looking for.” I remember how scared I felt when he said that to me all those years back, how scared I was that I may never find it.
 
Even though I couldn’t articulate precisely what “it” was, in that moment, underneath the sky, before the fire, I felt I had. I found it – it was here – in and around me.
 
Now, months later, with plenty of time to digest the experience, I have a better understanding of what I had been searching for – sometimes happily, sometimes franticly – for all those 14 years. Like a triangle, “it” had three points all connected, with space between.
 
1. I was looking for what I was supposed to do with my life – a path that made sense to me & offered fulfillment.
2. I was looking for a way to understand what life was all about – what is reallllyyy going on here.
3. I was looking to find a way to feel at home – in my body, in society, on the Earth, with my family, in a town, with friends & lovers.
 
The fire kept burning until dawn.
It took so much longer than I anticipated, but doesn’t it always?
And here I am again, with a new hunger, and a pen in my hand.

Your Turn

Do you journal?

Do you keep them or get rid of them?

Why?

 

On the Horizon

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Using a dynamic meditation journey, we will tune into the New Moon, to your own Inner Guidance, synced up with wild-hearted women from around the world. This offering will include music, storytelling, meditation, journaling prompts & intention-setting.

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The doors to WWU will open briefly in January 2025.

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"The Circle Leader Training Program at The Wild Woman Project was one of the most transformative and healing experiences of my life. I have received many tools, resources, support, and connections that I will carry on with me forever." ~ Hannah Devin, Graduate

Part part skill-building, part wildish personal-development, this course is sure to give you a deeper look into the Wild Woman Archetype, Moon Wisdom, Intuition and Inner Guidance, Circle Facilitation, and community building. With hundreds of graduates in 26 countries around the world, this course has been cultivated over 13 years to be our very best in Feminine Leadership Training.
 
 

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