I’m an artist. I make sculptures and paintings, and host art shows and dream.
But about six months ago I was feeling blocked. I didn’t know what my medium was anymore or what my work was building toward.
So, I invited some creative lady friends together to share about their work, their triumphs, their challenges.
We sat in a circle. It turned out to be a powerful shape.
The Romans used circles to build the Pantheon and the first aqueducts.
The ancient British erected stone circles to mark the passage of time.
Everyone from books clubs to girl scouts to recovering alcoholics sit in circles, all seeking growth and support.
My friends and I were poets, singers, designers, and entrepreneurs. And creatively, we all were stuck.
The first time we gathered, we opened up about our creative blocks and our recent brags. We made space to truly listen to each other.
Over the next couple of months, Caroline wrote poetry for the first time in five years. Maya performed a set of original songs. I drew postcards and hid them in secret places around the city.
But it all went much deeper than our creative breakthroughs.
Our circle became a community, and we began to share our whole lives.
We were there with Kate through a surprise pregnancy that ended in a miscarriage.
We helped Lucy make time to go to yoga when her partner was diagnosed with cancer.
There’s a magic that happens when we intentionally gather in a circle that’s completely different than when we’re alone.
In the circle, we can be witnessed and supported. We can tap into a power beyond ourselves.
Through some act of alchemy, weight becomes lighter when it’s shared.
If that isn’t magic, I don’t know what is.