The Unexpected Sweetness of Sisterhood

Last week I spent a life-changing week in the Spanish mountains at Hidden Paradise attending a retreat to explore Wise Women Ways.

It seems that the conscious exploration of this journey of what it means to move through my fifties and into claiming the role of the older, wiser woman is an essential part of unfolding my heart.

And last week it unfolded into the unexpected arms of sisterhood.

I’ve never had a particularly close relationship with my actual sisters. One is two years younger than me so I remember us being part of the same gaggle of local kids in our tweens, making a den in our shed when we were little and putting a hot pin through her favourite record when she made me so mad. My other sister is six years younger than me, and I don’t remember her in our childhood at all. We’ve grown up, moved to different parts of the country, and although each of us found motherhood hard with the difficulties our children were experiencing, we did not share this with each other.

However, when my mother became ill and then unexpectedly passed away this summer, we discovered each other. We each took various roles to support my mum before she went into hospital and for the weeks she was there. We set up a Sisters 👧👩‍🦳👩🏻 what’s app group, and were forced to share with each other what was going on inside our homes to explain why we could or couldn’t be available at certain times.

And when, on the morning of 21 July, my youngest sister was told my mother would die that day, she made the hardest choices to make sure my sister and I could get there in time.

We sat around the hospital bed, and gently shared memories and unfolding our hearts, such love in the room as my mum quietly stopped breathing,

Since that day we have supported each other, held space for each other as we take it in turns to dissolve into tears, and speak every Sunday at 8pm, sharing our latest mothering-dilemmas with each other because we understand what each other is going through that our friends just can’t.

Sisterhood. I fucking love those women.

And last week I found it again. Fourteen of us, mostly never having met before quickly found a trust between us that allowed us to speak and share.

Unlike my actual sisters, these women have very different lives and challenges to me. From a poised and peaceful meditation teacher from Ibiza to a graceful woman who supports others through death from Holland to a warm and inspiring grandmother from Scotland to a wise medicine-woman from Hastings to a feisty leader of an eco-village in Tangiers and more.

The conversations had were around subjects that all women should be able to talk to their friends about - and yet somehow although I have individual friends that I occasionally talk to when I’m struggling or wondering about something - all cards were on the table with these women.

We asked our questions and learned from each other about food and taking care of our bodies, moving and the power of stillness, the value placed on the role of the elder women in days gone past, the power of singing together around the fire, sex, courage, insecurity, how to take time out when we needed it to take care of ourselves, wisdom, leadership and the value of being part of a sacred circle of women that could hold all of it.

Each woman had something to bring. Every one of them essential.

Although I have only spent eight days with them, there was a profound connection and I love each one of them.

I booked the retreat thinking I would have a nice rest and hopefully a bit of sunbathing.

I left with a totally unexpected appreciation of sisterhood.

I kept picturing us as women from a tribe from days long gone, around the campfire, sourcing wisdom, laughter, stories and comfort from each other. Sewing together, baking bread together, turning plants into medicine.

I realised THAT is what The Gathering is and why it’s so special to me.

A lot happened. I’m still processing it all. It feels sacred and as if I don’t want to taint it by sharing more just now. But this feeling of sisterhood is overflowing and wants to be shared.

I wish it for every one of you.