Thirteen moons had passed since my last period. I contemplated the red bundle in the middle of the woodstove in its nest of kindling. For over a year, it had sat on my altar, a red linen ceremonial cloth from a menstruation ceremony now tied over a plethora of bandannas, glad rags, scraps of paper scribbled with names, dried lavender, and rosemary from the garden.
It took time for the bundle to catch fire, and much longer for it to burn completely to ash. I let these cool, then scooped them into my little iron cauldron. I walked down to the church located at the center of the circles on the West Side of Santa Cruz and began to walk a labyrinth through the streets and neighborhood. I would stop at trees and sprinkle a pinch of ash and a blessing, slowly, deliberately, intentionally. Spiralling out from that holy ground, blessing my neighbors, my home, the ocean, I felt more and more release until I was as empty as my cauldron.
Now two years have passed, and I contemplate doing this ritual again, with the sweat-soaked rags from the ripped-up cotton sheets that have become my new favorite mopping tool. Simply setting the intention to be able to say, “This too has passed.”
What’s in your bundle? How will you release it? Remember to be mindful, be intentional, and be joyous.
Blessed be.
(Excerpt from Laphrodite's Guide to Mindful Menopause or the Adventures of a Baby Crone}
