In the Red Tent Temple

…I feel beautiful, vibrant, awakened, sexy, stress-free. I welcome the new moon with an open heart and a grateful smile.

“Welcome Woman, this place is made sacred with your presence.”

In the Red Tent Temple, we are all Goddesses.

. . .

Last night, our Red Tent Temple was filmed for Isadora Leidenfrost’s upcoming film, “Things We Don’t Talk About.” It was a magical, wonderful evening and I’m still left feeling like I’m walking just a few inches above the ground: our best Red Tent Temple to date.

I was interviewed individually on Monday night by Isadora at my dear friend Honeybee’s home. It was strange to feel so exposed in front of her; I felt almost naked in the camera lens but I was just as open as if she hadn’t been sitting there. Afterward, I felt exhilerated. Last night, I barely noticed the camera and lights, thankfully as Isadora literally “dressed up” her equipment in red dresses, fabric, boas, and tiaras. I didn’t even notice she was filming most of the night and forgot she was there entirely until I was asked to wear a microphone for a few minutes.

So many beautiful women from all over came last night- many new faces or faces we hadn’t seen in a while- and each woman brought her own unique voice, story, and talents to the group. There was drumming, singing, poetry reading, art displays, and just plain sharing and laughing and talking. We colored vulva coloring book pages, we drank tea (so much tea!), we ate chocolate chip cookies and tomato soup and sourdough bread and pomegranate seeds and apples and leftover Halloween candy.


Can you spot the pomegranate on my hand?

There was henna. I held the hands of dear friends and women I’d just met and painted intricate designs on their hands and mine. I’m usually shy about touching other people or being touched, but I dropped a boundary last night. There’s something peaceful and calming about applying henna, watching the designs evolve on their own whimsy.

And ALisa Starkweather, the founder of the Red Tent Temple movement herself! – she stopped by and shared in our celebrations. I was star-struck and couldn’t find the words to say much to her. But I was grateful and humbled by her appearance all the same.

We laughed, deep Baubo belly laughs. And our eyes brimmed with tears. Some cried openly. We talked about G-d, Goddess and women and sex and math class and chemotherapy and our husbands and birthdays and decision making and NOT making decisions if we don’t want to and art and soup and our mothers and foremothers and the coming winter.

. . .

In the Red Tent Temple, it’s the one place where I wear my infertility like a badge of honor, as if to say, “I am no less woman.”

And if I so choose, I can leave that title at the door, too.

. . .

With a belly full of soup and tea and my heart filled with gladness and grace, I leave the Red Tent restored and whole again.

. . .

Every community needs a Red Tent Temple. We need to make Red Tent Temples for our teenaged girls. We need more Crones. We need to make room for trans voices and experiences. We need more women of color.

We need to reawaken the Dialogue of Women that whispers within each of us…

…and I firmly believe that the Red Tent Temple Movement is doing just that.

I am honored to be a part of this movement and thank you Honeybee, for opening the door to me and so many other women. We are each a part of something profoundly important to Women’s Work.