Dictionary definitions of ecstasy depict it with broad, loose brush-strokes. Ecstasy is described as a feeling of great happiness, accessed through being in a trance or as a result of heightened emotional or spiritual experience. Ecstasy may last seconds, minutes or occasionally hours, but anecdotally never any longer. It is a seemingly elusive phenomenon.

We are groomed by society to see ecstasy as mainly achievable through sex or drugs, which narrows our understanding and expectation of it down to these two arenas. It is more difficult to find tales of ecstasy reached through different paths.

I believe ecstasy is an attunement between our physical, emotional and spiritual state, leading to feelings of bliss sometimes coupled with marvel at the interconnectedness of life. It seems that repeated physical motion can propel us towards ecstasy when we are emotionally and spiritually ripe for it. There are many reports of ecstasy reached through drumming, dancing and chanting.

I think that we also have the potential to experience feelings of ecstasy during both menstruation and birth, but that our conditioning primes us for the complete opposite – fear, distaste and shame. Before our menarche, we are often sub-consciously led to expect womb-bleeding to be embarrassing and painful. Experiencing many cycles of this over time, feeds into our expectations of birth and early mothering. Many dread the birth, worrying about pain, loss of control and dignity.

But it doesn’t have to be this way! We can actually slip into a trance-like state during our bleeding times, particularly just before and at the beginning of our blood-flow. We naturally disconnect from the external world and are able to go deep within ourselves, emotionally and physically, if we have enough time and space to do this. The problem is that the world around us is not geared up to facilitate this type of ecstatic menstrual experience.

Some walk between the worlds during their womb-blood flow, in a shadowy psychic realm, able to access the collective unconscious and beyond. The gushing and oozing of our womb-blood, in time with the pulsing of the womb, provides an erratic rhythm as a backing track for our pyscho-spiritual selves to emerge and be ecstatic. We can see visions and experience feelings of great joy. We can touch base with ourselves on a deeply spiritual level. We can recognise ourselves as beings who hold the conundrum of life within our bodies; simultaneously releasing old blood and an unfertilised egg, whilst re-setting the clock with its potential for new life.

If we are used to experiencing ecstasy whilst we bleed, then it follows that will expect similar feelings of bliss and spiritual elation whilst giving birth. Once again, we must have sufficient privacy, time and space to allow this to manifest.

When we are in natural labour, feeling safe and uninterrupted, oxytocin builds up and up, alongside endorphins, until we reach an ultimate ecstatic peak as we push our babies out into the world. It is a well-known fact that many women go into a trance-like state during surges, which serve to open up our cervixes. Labour echoes the repetitive action of beating a drum, chanting the same tune or dancing, creating pauses interspersed with action. Our womb pulsates, keeping time with our dilating cervix, intermittently at first, becoming more rhythmic and intense as we enter active labour.

Then at last, the crowning and birthing of our baby, whom we have carried within our womb for nine months or so. What a moment, finally laying our eyes upon a precious little face and form we have barely been able to imagine before now. Many, many mothers describe meeting their baby for the first time as the most memorable moment of their entire lives.

How utterly surprising then, that there is so little written or expressed about the ecstasy of giving birth, as it offers many of us the perfect conditions for utter bliss. I urge you dear reader, to challenge this misrepresentation! Encourage, enable and cajole your partners, daughters, mothers, sisters and friends to share their yarns of ecstatic menstruation and birth. If this is your experience then let others know it is possible.

Then let us thread these together like celebratory bunting; each piece a work of art on its own and a definite triumph as a tapestry of experiences. May each flag sing in beautiful harmony with its neighbour and the ensuing symphony be carried on the wind to the four corners of the earth.

Painting by Alex Grey

Being broken can present many differently shaped wounds. Wounds of rejection, damaged identity, suppressed sexuality, unrequited love, struggle, pining, loss, missed opportunity, the loss of what we’ve never had, exhausting work, poverty and violence all have a different nature and leave diverse scars and ragged edges.

We can be broken in childhood, in our prime or in our croning years. Deep, volcanic grief can then erupt at our core, opening a dark chasm in our heart. This can last a moon cycle or a lifetime. Grief can make us solitary, sedentary and dull, brought low by the relentlessness of our burden. Sometimes we seek to numb the pain with food, alcohol, drugs, self-harm and damaging relationships.

A grieving heart can also make us restless and nomadic, an unbound spirit. We roam from town to town, from lover to lover, from job to job, from country to country. The enticement of a distant land is immense. It reins us in, capturing us, like a butterfly lured by the smell of nectar. We fall under the potent spell of foreign tones, intense colour, exotic flavours and virgin territory. Our grieving heart is then stilled for a while, fluttering in anticipation whilst we travel, by plane, boat or train, caught in a momentary oxymoron of physical movement and emotional suspension.

If the unbound spirit is brave enough, she will eventually attempt to heal herself. There are many tried and tested cures – I could not possibly list them all. Suffice to say she will need to grit her teeth and re-examine her wounding, gently washing away trapped dirt and any infection. When the wound is clean enough, she can then seek out a needle and thread. If the wound has neat edges, then repairing is straightforward, although may need to be stitched on several layers if the wounds go very deep.

If it is more extensive, then a darn may be needed, creating a new web of fibres over the hole, which can then be woven in and out of. May the ancient Grandmothers guide her darning needle.

Sometimes the chasm is so huge and gaping that she may be need to make a new patch to repair it. Never fear, this way she can choose beautiful fabric and pattern to her own liking and all will be well.

However neat and even our stitches are, there will always be scars. Soul scars carry positive energy, although they are decidedly not pretty and something most of us would sooner do without. They act as a reminder of our journey and stand as witnesses to our courage and hard work in healing ourselves. They force us to acknowledge our wounding and mending and to integrate the two into the colourful tapestry of our life. After all we know we cannot have day without night, summer without winter, light without dark. Our own soul’s voyage through the territory of the grieving heart, unbound spirit and a distant land all enhances our compassion and enables us to find deep empathy for other sisters.

Beltane is considered by many to be the first day of summer. Over the years, I have spent many a shivery May mornings, watching the sunrise, wishing I had brought an extra jumper! We can regard the seasons from a different perspective, as overlapping one another. In this way, Beltane straddles both spring and summer, with a heady mix of unpredictable weather and some of the most exquisite blooming of nature in the entire wheel of the year.

We can experience a similar phenomenon on a psycho-spiritual level, despite both ovulation and menstruation being actual physiological points. The energy of each section of the cycle can overlap the next. Sticking with the theme of the seasons, the spring energy towards the end of pre-ovulation can blur into the early summer of ovulation; post-ovulation merges with the early days of the autumnal pre-menstruum and the energy of the late pre-menstruum fuses with the start of the bleeding time. In this way, we can follow the example of the solar year and transition smoothly around the menstrual cycle, having enough time to adjust to each new state, before fully entering it.

Beltane is stunningly beautiful, with fruit blossom bursting forth, and vivid bluebells bringing up the rear, like sapphire spears, standing proud, under the shade of emerging tree canopies. The hedgerows grow visibly greener every day, leaves unfurling to reveal intense shades of green and a waxy, newborn perfection to their surface.

It is such a joyous festival with so much to celebrate ~ the greening of the Earth and fertility of the land as well as sexual union and love between humans. Tis a time of hard work and trust. We have to have faith that labour devoted to the garden and other projects will result in a fecund harvest, come Autumn Equinox time.

Many moons ago, magical Beltane fires were kindled on the top of sacred hills. People would jump over them, to bring themselves good fortune for the year ahead. Today we still follow customs from days of old by skipping and whirling around may poles, clutching brightly coloured streamers with a song in our hearts and step. These rainbow ribbons then echo our dance, by becoming tightly inter-woven around these ancient phallic fertility symbols.

As the gateway to the summer is unlocked with the pounding of heartbeats, rising sap and the scent of apple blossom in the Northern hemisphere; the doorway to winter creaks open in the Southern hemisphere.

Samhain is the festival which heralds the official start of winter, where we honour and remember our dead ancestors and our connection with them. This is the time for emotional honesty, for coming to terms with letting go and dying. A profoundly spiritual time which I always equate with the bleeding time in the menstrual cycle, as we release and connect with the otherworld.

Happy Beltane to all in the Northern hemisphere  and Happy Samhain to all in the Southern hemisphere. Go well!

Last week I recorded this chant honouring the return of our menstrual blood to the Earth. A woman on a Red Tent Facebook group I belong to had requested that we share our personal prayers and songs. The chant came to me as I was pouring my blood on the land last month with sacred intent. I worked on it, developing the lyrics and harmony, with my partner Ian accompanying me with a djembe rhythm. I shall be singing it again tomorrow as I honour the solar eclipse, new moon and Spring Equinox with my precious moon blood. Feel free to sing the song and make it your own.

I give my blood to you, Mother Earth

I give my blood to you

Mother Earth.

I give my blood to you

Mother Earth.

Take it,

Create with it,

Make me wiser too.

Take it,

Create with it,

Make me wiser too.

You give yourself to me,

Dame Nature.

You give yourself to me,

Dame Nature.

I love you,

I honour you,

I feel you in my womb.

I love you,

I honour you,

I feel you in my womb.

I give my blood to you,

Pachamama.

I give my blood to you,

Pachamama.

Hold me,

Enfold me,

Lead me to the source.

Lyrics, melody and harmony by Karin Chandler. Djembe by Ian Chandler.

I have been searching for a new psycho-spiritual map of womanhood for a long time. Many others before me have created maps of this terrain and I have spent years studying them, drawing from their strengths. However I have gradually come to the conclusion that they are not inclusive enough, for me to comfortably continue using them.

Miranda Gray wrote the ground-breaking ‘Red Moon’ 21 years ago. She presented her model ‘Virgin, Mother, Enchantress and Hag’ and applied it to the differing stages of the menstrual cycle – pre-ovulation, ovulation, the pre-menstruum and bleeding as well as the cycle of the moon. Other women’s mysteries teachers before and since have developed similar versions. I devoured their teachings hungrily and shared them with others. For years the models served me well but, with the utmost respect to Miranda and the other teachers, they have their shadow side, with many women and menstruators being left out in the cold. Some find the idea of ‘Virgin’ old-fashioned and repressed with its expectations of female purity. Millions of others do not resonate with the word ‘Mother’ as they are either childfree through personal choice or childless by circumstance. ‘Enchantress’ can feel whimsical and ‘Hag’ ugly and sex-starved.

Feminism and gender-politics have moved on in leaps and bounds since 1994, with many people now wanting freedom from rigid gender roles and prejudice. The Red Tent Movement, which continues to gather momentum and expand its red web outwards, is all about women’s empowerment and self-knowledge. If people feel excluded and alienated, and turn away from the wisdom in the blood mysteries teachings, then perhaps it is time for a brand-new inclusive paradigm. One that builds on the old, well-loved models, standing on the mighty shoulders of our pioneering sisters.

I became more passionate about discovering a new model which mapped the journey of today’s menstruator. I journeyed and dreamt on it. I walked the land, observing the natural rhythms of the moon and Earth in relation to my blood cycle. I tried and tested out different names and energies throughout the month, rejecting the ones that didn’t work. Many cycles of bleeding passed until the map slowly birthed itself, not without pain or effort, unfolding, raw and vital from my unconscious. I realised that the model had to do more than merely change the names of the stages and so set to work on making a deeper-acting tool by exploring the thresholds between each stage.

A map with four main stages has emerged, using signage that relates to being on the land, following both a physical and symbolic journey: The Spiral Journey ~ Pathseeker, Trailblazer, Mapmaker and Gatekeeper. It offers a psycho-spiritual tool for self-empowerment. The paradigm describes four key life stages, mapping these out against the four stages of the moon cycle, the four seasons, the four directions and the four elements. It also identifies the key characteristics of each stage and what is required to cross over the threshold of the next one. The map is not a one-way street. Life changes can push us backwards or forwards. It is possible that not all parts of our life will be at the same stage at the same time.

The Spiral Journey also enables us to harness the wisdom of our menstrual cycle as well as that of our life’s journey. The stages relate to menarche, the bleeding years, menopause and death. Individuals can use the map as a personal development tool by plotting the stages of their cycle onto it. It is named The Spiral Journey because those of us who menstruate go through this voyage many times in their lifetime. Each time the spiral goes deeper, teaching us more about ourselves on every level – physical, mental, emotional, and spiritual. Even though the map is useful for menstruating women, trans-men who bleed and non-binary people who bleed, it does not actively exclude women who do not menstruate either. I’m hoping that the map will be of real interest and use to both transgender women and men, as well as cis men and cis women.[i]

The realm of the Pathseeker lies in exploring the many different options for our path in life. Everything is possible. The future is up for grabs. Life is tangy and fresh and we can feel energised by the ride. We skip or run along many different paths and avenues, accepting our need to experiment and the inevitability of mistakes. Eventually we reach the threshold of the Trailblazer. Here a sacrifice is required; we must relinquish our freedom to do as we please with no commitment to our self or others, before we can move on.

The Trailblazer makes a clear choice about which way to follow and instead of following paths made by others, begins to carve out her/his own way. This is hard work and can include creating projects, teaching, birthing businesses, creating works of art, nurturing our beautiful planet, giving love and care to others, as well as traditional parenthood. In return, we receive the gifts of focus and determination, which ultimately leads us to fulfilment as we pledge ourselves to the task in hand.

When we reach the threshold of The Mapmaker it may be time to revisit the paths we explored as a Pathseeker before crossing the threshold. We can then let go of any regret associated with other paths not trodden and opportunities not grasped. We come to terms with this by expressing our feelings with honesty. Once we have truly accepted our life, then we are open to receiving the gifts of truth and assertiveness. We can see our life as it is and can be thankful, deciding to finish projects off or to gather seeds for new ones. We harvest all we have learnt and begin to share our wisdom with others. We amass the power of having journeyed through the previous two realms, carrying their energetic imprint with us.

At last we reach the final realm of the Gatekeeper. On this threshold we must sacrifice our attachment to playing an active role in the external world. This is the time for returning to our innermost self, relinquishing the need to be active and productive. A time to be, to contemplate and be peaceful, observing activity in others, without feeling a need to join in. A time to let go of anything we no longer need, to metaphorically and literally lighten our load. In return we receive the gift of wisdom. The Gatekeeper describes the time of menstrual bleeding and the metaphysical death of that particular month. The threshold beyond Gatekeeper refers to our actual death. Women who are bleeding have to sacrifice the security and stillness of the death state embodied by menstruation in order to become Pathseekers once more. The gift that they then receive is that of new potential and beginnings.

I am excited by the birth of The Spiral Journey and am eager to engage in dialogue about its development, as well as share more of it in future workshops and writings. I am holding a workshop at Dryade Druid Camp in the Netherlands in June 2016.

[i] ‘Cis’ is short for ‘cisgender’ (opposite of ‘transgender’), used to describe someone whose gender identity matches their anatomical gender at birth.

Two years ago whilst I was driving in a state of anxiety and nervousness to have root canal treatment performed at the dentist, a haunting melody and some words floated into my consciousness. I hummed them to myself in the car, but was worried I would forget them amidst the drama of a traumatic dental experience. So I pulled over into a layby and scrawled the words down on the back of an envelope. These hastily improvised words were the start of my very first song with both the words and melody completely written by just me –  ‘Birth Song’. I had written lyrics to songs before but this was the first time I had composed a melody as well.

The backstory to this unlikely method of composing a song was that my very dear friend Bella had asked me to be with her for the home birth of her second child. I felt deeply honoured to be asked. My own three children had all been born at home with no medical pain relief and I had found it hard, but exhilarating. I knew I could be with Bella and hold her hand, gently encouraging her and watching her plumb her inner depths and come up triumphant and victorious, forever changed by birth as a rite of passage. I wanted to support her partner Tim too and enable the two of them to birth their baby together. I just knew we would be a fabulous team.

The birth was beautiful and baby Iska was born by candlelight at home into Tim’s hands whilst her big brother sang songs upstairs with his grandparents. It was perfect in every way.

Months later, I sat down and did some hard work on the hastily captured lyrics. I teased them into shape, making them paint a picture of the whole journey of birth from early contractions, through to the crowning of the baby, the giddiness of first seeing the baby and then pushing a placenta out. The song culminates with the first breastfeed and experience of holding a newborn skin-to-skin. Miraculously I remembered the tune, although I did add a harmony and drumbeat. I hope that you like it and that it inspires and gives courage to women everywhere to birth their babies whilst feeling held by our ancestral grandmothers.

Death is inevitable. It comes to us all sooner or later, whether or not we die suddenly with no preparation or after a long illness with plenty of time to tie up loose ends. We have no way of knowing which hand we will be dealt. When our time does come though, we may wish we had prepared a little better. Most of us avoid thinking about death and dying as much as possible.  Death is sanitised and shrouded from us in Western society – most people die in hospital, away from close family and friends. Their bodies are then whisked away and we have little chance to say goodbye privately at our own pace.  Gone are the days of our beloved dead lying in the parlour for three days and three nights, surrounded by mourners keeping vigil.

Our menstrual bleeding-time is closely connected with the life stage of death on a number of different levels – the physical, emotional and spiritual. At its simplest, the appearance of our blood tells us that our egg is dead and that we are not pregnant. If we had wanted to conceive then this is a time of grief and mourning of the baby that will not get to be this month. It is essential we acknowledge this, feeling either relief or sadness as we greet our blood. Women still experience this, albeit fleetingly even if using contraception.

On an emotional and spiritual level menstrual bleeding gives women to chance to ‘practice’ for their actual death every month. If we choose to consciously engage with this, then death eventually loses the power to frighten us.  We can greet it as a welcome friend, rather than as an enemy to be fought at all cost.  Our inner wisdom knows this, embodied by our dead ovum which flows away willingly with a wise gush of uterine blood-flow. So what do we need to rehearse so that we are more ready when our time comes to shrug off this mortal coil?

Attachment to the outer world, to being active and busy, to our body, to our relationships and ultimately our self can impede us and block us as we die. When we die, we need to feel free to leave our body and life behind. Even if we have few spiritual beliefs, most of us would agree that no good can possibly come of fighting death when it comes to the very end. Better to leave gracefully, lightly and fearlessly. Next time you bleed, why not meditate on death? Lie still and imagine you are leaving your body. Go with this and see where it takes you. How does it feel?

If this sounds too intense then you could start gently by focussing on what from the previous month needs to die within you. Which challenging occurrences, uncomfortable feelings or conflict would you like to let go of? Feel them slide away with your blood-flow. Compost them all. There is no need to carry them with you.

If you are benefitting from this approach then you could take it a step further by releasing attachment to looking beautiful all the time. Many women feel immense societal pressure to always be looking their best, presenting an impassive and attractive exterior face to the world, despite sometimes feeling very different inwardly.

When I bleed I take a break from wearing make-up or clothes which draw attention to myself. I swap my outer face for an inner one and switch off as to how I appear to others. Soft, loose, comfortable clothes, in dark colours blacks, greys and browns camouflage me and make me invisible as I flow and follow my inner spiral. To keep this inward focus, I cover up the mirrors in my house with scarves. This reduces the urge to worry about how I look or appear to others which in turn, helps me to plummet the spiritual depths of my blood cave. I often take this further by not wearing a bra at home, enjoying the comfort of not being constricted and feeling my breasts move unimpeded. I relish in their sagging. I so love feeling honest and vulnerable in my skin, with the knowledge of certain ageing and the freedom this gives me to truly be myself in that moment. Getting to know my crone, my inner hag and giving her the freedom to emerge is turning out to be rich and fruitful relationship. As for my relationship with death – well I’m working on that.