cycle breaker

Sacred Reclaiming ~ A Photoshoot

| Rohana Aisha Dewfall

A few weeks ago I had the honour of going to the woods, sharing tea and crafting a story of vulnerability, sacredness, and a reclamation of power. Before we started, we spoke a while and the depths of this shoot were clear, it wasn’t just about getting naked in the woods … it was sacred. It was about self love, worthiness, joy, grief, pain and pride. It was a reclamation.

I delivered the gallery for these the other day, and I’ve been thinking a lot about how the images I caught tell a story. A story in many ways about power.

It isn’t that we lose our power as women, but often that it is reshaped, molded, and flattened into something that just doesn’t align with us anymore.

This shoot was a reclamation of that power

A “fuck you” to the idea of staying small

An full body acknowledgement that we are sacred just because we exist

A rebirthing

Because while we cognitively can ‘do the work’ and tell ourselves that we’re okay, there is an incredible shift that comes when we lie in the earth and let ourselves be held in nature.

These images are a few from our time dancing in creation; they are deep, profound storytelling images… and I’m really proud of them.

From a shedding of layers to a reflection on what’s been learned, and dancing into new directions on your own terms. These images are in more than one way a message, to give ourselves the grace of processing, to honour the time and journeys we go on, and to ultimately find ways to put on our armour and take the roads less travelled – because there we can find our magick.

As always, thank you for reading, it means so much to me that you’re here.

With love, Rohana x

The Conditioning of Birth

| Rohana Aisha Dewfall

We are conditioned by everything in life.

From the moment of your conception right until the moment you are reading this, you have been absorbing and filtering information. You’re doing it right now too. Every second of every single day.

It’s actually really fucking amazing – and, it means, we have a LOT of conditioning to work through whenever we try to break a cycle or move through some shit.

In terms of birth, what does this mean? We’re not constantly thinking about birth (unless you work in the field) or about how babies come into the world. We don’t actively consider the sacred period of postpartum days. We don’t consciously create a negative or traumatic birth. Why would we?

And yet, the percentage of women who experience birth trauma is rising. It is scary and getting scarier. The maternity services in this country (the UK) are deeply overwhelmed, understaffed, and failing. Arguably this is because of funding and politics and a lack of knowledge etc etc. However, I’ll go a step in a different direction here and say it’s also because we are so deeply conditioned in this society to think about birth a medical problem, a painful experience, and something that we have to survive.

We are conditioned from the moment our parents find out we exist; their thoughts and fears and joys about our birth will transmit information to us, in utero, about what birth is like. Then, our actual entrance into this world either confirms these beliefs that have begun to form, or it challenges them. Either way, beliefs are created- often in the last few generations they were not positive ones.

It might sound a little weird but if you get it, you really do get it. These imprints are the first of many foundational layers of our whole belief system. Every single second. Every single day. It’s all absorbed and filtered.

So then, we hear about birth, we hear screams of labour on the tv, or family and friends talking about the pain and trauma. We grow up with messages that birth isn’t beautiful, that it is bloody and breaks us, and so we fear it.

Generations have birthed under the controlled “guidance” of professionals reinforcing these views that birth isn’t safe or joyful or sacred. 

Granted there are exceptions, and someone will say that it’s “not all” but it doesn’t have to be all. It’s some. It’s a majority. And if you have any other racial or economic cards stacked against you, its even more.

Like I said earlier, we don’t consciously create a negative or traumatic birth. However we often do consciously create (also referred to as manifesting) a positive birth experience.  How? By filtering out the noise. By deconditioning our expectations of birth.

There are some radical revolutionaries out here doing this work. Deconditioning birth and postpartum, and inviting as many families as we can do the same. Those of us who have seen, heard and sometimes even felt the trauma that can be associated with birthing babies into this world; taking our experience and expertise and molding it into something we share. We are here, and we want better for our collective decendants.

We are here breaking the cycle. Saying no more, doing this sacred work of holding these spaces. Saying enough. Saying the conditioning stops here.

I invite you, regardless of where you are in the experience of birth – having had babies or wanting them, not interested in kids or somewhere in between – what are your beliefs about birth? Where have you been conditioned and where have you consciously created these views?

I’d love to hear.

With love,

Rohana x

Connection, Causal Comments and Costumes of our Life

| Rohana Aisha Dewfall

I wrote this more than a year ago … for some reason, I thought it wasn’t right to share at the time. Perhaps because I felt raw from the day, or perhaps because I got busy … either way, I’m sharing it now. Because as I read it back, I realised just how much I needed my own words today… and I am so immensely grateful that I have this space to write.

With love, from a past version of myself xox

” I was on the bus today, and of course, bus trips mean lots of people. Always opinions, some lovely, others not; but more recently, as I’ve been building up to solo trips with the kids again in the better weather, with them all being older, and E, now 20 months having lots more opinions about the buggy; I’ve thought about how we use the time travelling to connect.

Today, we played I-spy, our version of the game, using colours instead of phonics, and sometimes throwing in the odd shape or physical reference like ‘tall’ or ‘wide’ instead. The kids sat, and looked around, and E started to whine because he was strapped into the buggy. Luckily, another mum got on, and the connection between him and her daughter began, until he fell asleep!

We (mums) chat for a while, talking about kids and coping; she shared some wisdoms about being a mum of 7, and I shared some frustrations about villageless parenting. We connected – over the shared experience of splitting ourselves into multiple pieces, stretching so our children could have parts of us, and simultaneously loving the chance and choice to do this, and being exhausted by it. I told her I thought her family must be beautiful, and I admired her honesty. She told me that it gets easier and harder, affirming that no choice is right, but that we do what we can with the knowledge we have.

A brief, meaningful chat, interrupted by a gentleman getting on the bus and sitting down adjacent to my older 2. “you’ve got your hands full” he said gruffly to me.

“Oh I really do” I replied. “Full of love with my amazing children”.

“Uh, not all the time I bet” was his response!

The other mum looked at me and we shared a moment of horror at the roughness in his voice.

“They really are amazing” I told him. It was our stop. We left.

And once again, I thought about connections. Some positive, some negative, all, inevitably will have an impact on our energy fields. Why do some people feel so harshly about children? Why do they judge when there is more than 1? What did he gain? What was so triggering for him? I wondered aloud a little, with the general cautionary calls to my kids about the road. I thought about how hard it might be for some people to see kids being so free and confident, when they might have never been given the chance to be so.

I wondered how my children felt. Though they know we’ve had these comments and conversations before, so they said they were hardly ruffled, more interested in the scrap metal yard instead. But how does this impact children? How do we make them feel when we comment about how hard they are constantly?

What message do we send when we say, I’ve had enough of you? Because in most instances they never get to say that to us.

Thinking about my children, and the brief beautiful encounter with this lady, I remembered a quote I’d read in an email this week by Rupaul that “You’re born naked and the rest is drag”.

Kindness costs nothing.

The appearances we choose every day impact every single human around us. We are born naked, and needing others to survive… as we grow we create costumes for ourselves every season of life… and yet, when we die, we return to the earth .. dust. The short space of time in between, in the costumes we choose may be brief, but it is so powerful.

The lady on the bus today gave me hope… and it was thanks to her, that though the gentleman’s words stung, I could brush them away, and hold my babies close. A year ago, I might have been brought to tears (probably would have!). Thank you, whoever you are. I am grateful.”

That’s it.

That’s the post. A short meeting that left a big impact.

Whatever your day looks like. Wherever you are in the world. I hope you know this:

You are loved. You are important. You are so much more than enough.

Why did they burn girls mummy ?

| Rohana Aisha Dewfall

International Women’s Day brings lots of feelings up.

Last year, a school friend of mine birthed her gorgeous baby into the world; and though we’ve never gone deep into the story of her birth, I know beyond words she was phenomenal. This year, it was one of my first thoughts – her baby turned 1. What an absolute honour to know women raising women, strong, capable, loved.

What an honour to be surrounded by women, breaking cycles, healing themselves, and birthing their own girls into a world with less to carry forward.

I thought of my friend and her baby. I thought of my own pregnancy and how much carrying a girl forced me to confront fears about raising one.

I thought about how raising a girl has changed me; pushed me to advocate for myself, and to heal – so that she (and my boys) have less to work through; less to weigh them down, and less to pass on again.

I looked at my daughter; awake and asking for breakfast and I thought, today is going to be a good one.

We played and chat, and her brothers woke up; each in their own little world.

I watched her write and thought about International Women’s Day, and what it means to me, and what it might mean to us as a family unit. Should I mark the occasion? I had nothing prepared.

In the end, we didn’t celebrate specifically. We didn’t do any special crafts or read anything because of the day; which I have tried in previous years and have learned, as I dive deeper into the knowing of myself as a mother, that these things (though joyful and purposeful in part) bring stress and discomfort to our group. Instead, we talked; about bodies and women, and how we are most powerful when we can do both what we want, and what is right for the world.

Well behaved women rarely make history

Eleanor Roosevelt

The other day, she asked me about my current read; Burning Woman by Lucy H Pearce, and together with Theo, we spoke about how women (and men in smaller numbers) were burned for magick. They were horrified, without any extra detail – but they asked for more.

Why?

What could I tell them? At ages 5 and 3, how could I explain the privilege they sit on, through the place they live in the world, the tonality of their skin, the reality of job security that their dad has, and the choices we make as a family – they are so damn lucky. And they know it, in part; but at the ages of 5 and 3, I am not going to burden them with the weight of it being so vastly different for so many.

That said, I won’t shy from it either.

Instead, I told them, that the people in power (a little like in Frozen II with Elsa’s grandfather) were – and are – scared of magick. They feared people who knew nature, and who could find food and medicine in plants. They were scared of women who didn’t listen to them, because they wanted to be in charge; and when they weren’t listened to, they got angry. When they couldn’t control the magick people, they decided to call them witches; and hunt and burn them.

But why did they not listen mummy? Why did they want to control them? Who was in charge?

“They didn’t listen because they didn’t want to – a little like when you don’t want to stop playing for dinner; you don’t until you’re ready, and I can’t make you. The difference is, in our family, we respect your bodies, and we try and listen to what you want and need as much as we can. It hasn’t always been like that – and it still isn’t for everyone. Every family has it’s own rules – but now, we don’t burn people for not listening.”

“They wanted to control them because … well why do you think?” – “To be super powerful… like the baddies do, except, were there any superheroes to come save the people?”

Breathe… my 5 year old got me. He may push my limits but he just gets things, and says them in ways that make me need to hit pause.

We carried on talking… about baddies and superheroes, and how in real life it isn’t so simple. Again referencing things they understand; like the Bluey episode where Bandit pretends to be the best in the world, and then admits he’s good at some stuff, not everything. We aren’t bad or good all the time; like when we get angry and hit a sibling, it doesn’t mean we are baddies forever, but it does mean we need to repair.

By the end of our walk and talk; they had a basic idea that people were burned because they weren’t understood; and because the people in charge (who are kind of a mystery and “shouldn’t get to decide for everyone”) were scared of them. It wasn’t something I’d anticipated, so navigating it like this felt enough without too much.

I’m glad we’ve begun to raise our daughters more like our sons, but it will never work until we raise out sons more like our daughters.

Gloria Steinem

Today, I didn’t bring up the burning woman conversation from last week. I could have to anchor in points but I don’t think I need to, they’ll show me what they remember and need in time. We settled on talking about how we can support girls and women to listen to our bodies by doing it ourselves and making healthy choices – and about consent and body boundaries for everyone. We chat about how when we do what we want, but that is also right / good for the world, we are celebrating people, and the earth.

And we talked about how boys and men need support to; but that sometimes they need it for different reasons – so they have a different celebration day.

It’s a day that is so important to facilitate conversations; it’s a day that we speak truths that often get hidden otherwise; it’s a day where there is a little less fear about being burned, because we are all shouting ‘smash the patriarchy’ together.

But it’s a day.

This work is lifetime. This day is a drop – and we need lots of drops to make the ocean.

Raising humans is political, and nothing hits home harder than this on days where we discuss equity – because in raising them; we set the standard. Our standard here, in our slow, intentional, play filled life, is to dismantle the power of patriarchy and capitalism that links women’s’ worth to her productivity or reproductive capacity. It is to remind my sons and daughter that every single feeling is to be felt; every part of them is important, and every minute they are loved – because if we have a generation of kids who know their power; they will raise more kids who know their power – and systems that do not serve for good will collapse.

As always, thanks for reading

Rohana x