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  • SheCircle


Advice to myself

Leave the dishes

Let the celery rot in the bottom drawer of the refrigerator

and an earthen scum harden on the kitchen floor.

Leave the black crumbs in the bottom of the toaster.

Throw the cracked bowl out and don't patch the cup.

Don't patch anything. Don't mend. Buy safety pins.

Don't even sew on a button.

Let the wind have its way, then the earth

that invades as dust and then the dead

foaming up in gray rolls underneath the couch.

Talk to them. Tell them they are welcome.

Don't keep all the pieces of the puzzles

or the doll's tiny shoes in pairs, don't worry

who uses whose toothbrush or if anything

matches, at all.

Except one word to another. Or a thought.

Pursue the authentic—decide first

what is authentic,

then go after it with all your heart.

Your heart, that place

you don't even think of cleaning out.

That closet stuffed with savage mementos.

Don't sort the paper clips from screws from saved baby teeth

or worry if we're all eating cereal for dinner

again. Don't answer the telephone, ever,

or weep over anything at all that breaks.

Pink molds will grow within those sealed cartons

in the refrigerator. Accept new forms of life

and talk to the dead

who drift in through the screened windows, who collect

patiently on the tops of food jars and books.

Recycle the mail, don't read it, don't read anything

except what destroys

the insulation between yourself and your experience

or what pulls down or what strikes at or what shatters

this ruse you call necessity.

~ Louise Erdrich

Notes on the WOMB

by ANA

Some suggestions for womb healing / connecting practices

The Womb Space is our creative power center for birthing new life and/or new ideas into the world. It’s related to the Sacral Chakra- which is also related to how you relate to your own emotions, as well as the emotions of others.

When energetic blocks form here, we can feel stuck.

Between menstruation, intercourse, and childbirth, the vagina withstands a lot. When you add changing hormones and pelvic floor issues to the mix, sometimes the womb area is anything but comfortable.

Practices to connect and open up the flow of this space include:

-Breathwork- place your hands over your womb (I like to make a sort of heart shape with my hands) and take in 10 or more slow, deep intentional breaths, sending love, light, or simply awareness to this space

-Vaginal Steaming- is a remedy using herbs, said to cleanse the vagina and uterus, regulate menstruation, and ease period cramps and bloating.

The practice directs herb-infused steam into your vagina and womb area. Although spas are starting to offer this for what I feel is a lot of money- you can also do this at home. The process is pretty simple — you just sit or squat over a container of herbal-infused steam. I actually have a pot that fits right into my toilet. I place the pot inside and cover myself with a blanket for about 20 minutes while I read a book. You can also squat over the pot, or buy a special chair specifically for this practice

Herbs often used alone or in combination include:







You can get steam mixes from

-Yoni Eggs are said to work as little energy healers to help women transform stored trauma, renew and connect to their womb space and hearts, and increase [their] sexual energy.

They are also considered an alternative to kegal exercises, helping to strengthen vaginal muscles to decrease incontinence, re-toning post childbirth and increasing orgasms

Some also claim that they can balance hormones via the placebo effect - which is becoming more widely accepted in the scientific community- by releasing endorphins.

They’re made from different crystals, each having some different actions. My two favorites are rose quartz and black obsidian

Once again, I recommend

as a reliable source for yoni eggs

-The Ceres Wand is something I’ve been using for a couple of weeks now. There are a lot of mystical claims to the Ceres Wand which I’m not sure if I buy or not, but it has really been helpful for me to connect to my womb space and it does feel like it’s healing

It’s an herbal stick used to internally cleanse, heal, rejuvenate and tighten and moisturize.

The intonation is to nurture and purify the female reproductive system.

The ingredients that make the wand include herbal extracts, minerals and crystals.

It is said that the wand helps fight infections by balancing the pH, which is often too acidic and therefore allows for the growth of unwanted bacteria. As a result Secret Ceres eliminates unpleasant odor and discharge.

While shedding off the dead skin cells of the superficial layers of the epithelial skin, Secret Ceres is said to help regenerate and balance the micro-flora while sustaining moisture level.

I purchased mine from

And for my last suggestion, Rosie Reese, self proclaimed Yoni queen, offers a 20 minute womb healing meditation on her

I haven’t tried it but I’ve been wanting to add it to my womb healing practice

There are many ways to connect to and heal the womb. These are just a few suggestions <3

A tribute to Riggy Berto, may she rest in peace.

December 5, 2020

"Without exception every single one of us was grown and held in our mothers womb. At some point this womb becomes to small and we are either expelled or we kick our way out to have more space and move on to the next adventure.

My sweet dog who loves to escape. Took her final mission out into the world when a contractor unknowingly left the gate open. She was hit by a car and passed away instantly. It was a day of deep grief.

My daughter who is 11. Was inconsolable for two hours and then came through to the other side of her sadness saying she could feel her body again and offered me a cup of water. There was the grief of holding my sweet dog in my arms as she had already passed on and whispering in her ear how much we love her. There was holding the woman who hit my dog who was shaking and crying in regret, and assuring her that it was not her fault trying with all my might to relieve the burden of her pain.

Their was the neighbors who I did not yet know that found my baby dog and had to deliver the news to me who held me and my daughter as we wept, and they wept with us. There was Brian who not knowing exactly where we were or where the accident had happened drove around til he found us, and held his baby in his arms.

There was the sound of his sobs as the shock wore off and the reality sunk in that our sweet Riggy Momma was really gone.

There was James who had to FaceTime in to be with us as he is in Canada right now with work, his concern and his tears and his feeling so far away.

There was the four of us circled around her lifeless body wishing and beckoning her to come back to us.

There was Iggy our other shitzu who followed Riggy and witnessed the whole event but does not have the words to speak about her loss because she is a dog.

There was the contractor who understood his role but did not know what to do with himself.

There was empathy, there was compassion, there was grief, there was hallucinations that maybe she was still breathing.

Brian dug a deep grave under the trellis in our garden.

There was soil that was rich dark brown, moist, and healthy. We filled the hole with flowers and her red squeaky bone. Skylah place a letter she had written to her and we placed her now rigid body in its new home in the earth. Her new womb.

At sunset we gathered round her resting place to send her off. We cried. We said prayers. We wished her well. We thanked her. And we shoveled the dirt over her sweet beautiful perfect shitzu body. We sat by a fire near her final resting place and told stories about her, we wept and swore, and laughed at how she was such a stubborn old thing.

She was truly one of us. Lovely and sweet, nurturing and opinionated. Her go to was conflict if she wasn’t protecting you.

She was an asshole to all that passed by her window, where she sat waiting to be pissed off.

In some ways I feel like I held her in my womb, birthed her, and had to eventually realize I could not keep her safe from a world she wanted to explore.

The safety of Riggy's womb, our home, was too small for her. It was not good enough to perch on the couch and stare out the window. She wanted to be out there. I don’t think she wanted to die, but the world isn’t concerned about that.

The tears, the grief, the cortisol put me in bed early, only to be woken up a few hours later in this new harsh reality that my sweet friend was gone. I can hear her ghost barks.

As I lay awake in this cold December night, grief reorganizing my proprioception, I realized I’ve walked this path before. That monster of fear, depression, sadness that shows up in the middle of the night, I know is a mirage. That I’m actually held in a womb myself. One of my own creating. One where it’s safe to feel all of those feelings and think all of those regretful thoughts. To allow the missing and longing for my dog to get as big as it needs to. To feel my anger that she couldn’t just be different than she was so that I don’t have to feel this. But I know that to truly love something or someone we have to love what they are, not what we wish them to be. It’s the difference between prison and freedom.

I find solace that she is in the garden sleeping, my world forever changed by her life and our friendship. May your next adventure be the best one yet Riggy Berto.

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