womenwritingcolorado.com - From Participants

"Red quotes sprinkled throughout this website are words from participants. Enjoy!"

Settle into your chair,
Take a soft deep breath
and soak up these wonderful words.

They are sure to inspire you!

I hardly begin to know how to say what the class has meant, what it means: a sustained structure, built of relationship rising out of women, not of rules imposed upon them. The lightest of superimposed ritual structure, meant to release and to hold a sense of relationship created by our emerging voices, created by the growing awareness of ourselves as individuals and as an integrated circle at the same time, like a basket woven of beautiful needs:

each one of us like a lake that has been frozen through a long season, when in thawing the darkened, unlit waters rise to the surface, rich in nutrients and new life;

each one of us plumbing depths we didn't know we had; each one of us unlocking the voice--or a dimension of voice--to lead it from the cellar of consciousness into the space of utterance;

to knit together the split consciousness of ourselves, the unraveled garment of ourselves; to piece together the shattered, fragmented container of the WomanSelf from which we all come, in which we find ourselves and remake the world.

All of our stories are Creation stories and the finding of them, the telling of them keeps Creation created, keeps it fed and coming constantly alive.

The polyphonic chant of our voices. The many hued tapestry of our needlework, for centuries the way women have spoken the world, in zillions of embroideries...

Small wonder that in patriarchy, the dominant force has feared the thing that emanates from groups of women that come together in such a way as to find and release the power that shelters in our hearts, the courage of women. Kate

. . . want to appreciate you for all that you have created and facilitated in this class. I appreciate your calm demeanor, your perceptive leadership and your understated preparedness for each and every session. I am already thinking that I may just have to take the Wednesday evening class which begins in August..... this has become a weekly retreat in and of itself, even in the midst of hectic schedules, it is a wonderful source of peaceful, healing refuge as well as a motivation to re-spark the writing process.

Thank you for who you are and for providing this opportunity for women and for me! Karen

Finding Women Writing for (a) Change in Grand Junction was a true gift from the universe. I have been in the class for three semesters (and counting). To me, WWfaC is a circle of trust and safety, a womb of creativity that enables us all to birth our story into the world and reclaim or create a new life and voice. By listening to each other and by writing our authentic truths, we shine a light into the dark corners of our lives and find the monsters not so scary after all. Because of Ann and WWfaC in Grand Junction, I have new clarity in my writing and have been able to make real progress on a book that I’ve had in my head for seven years. Thanks to WWfaC, that book is out of my head and on paper. Shelly

Foremost, it ignited my passion for writing and awoke my muse from her thirsty coma. I am beginning to feel alive in a way I had forgotten how to feel. The act of writing cleanses and tickles me into a glowing, joyous state in which I am completely fulfilled.

The rituals in class reinforced the sacred nature of writing and all things creative. The experience awoke a spirituality I had buried beneath the dregs of routine and obligation. The class provided the impetus to reconnect with my soul and the ability to see anew with sparkling eyes that notice wonder.

The greatest gift of the class, however, was the communion aspect. Each week, I sat, surrounded by 16 wise, wonderful women, all radiant and brilliant in their own enchanted ways. As I listened to their words, their voices leapt forth and danced inside of me, filling me with the unique gift each woman offers the community and the world. Their words rang out with a sturdy truth—the truth about what it means to be a mother, a daughter, a teacher, a friend, a mentor, a partner, a student, a woman. Together, their voices shouted the primitive wisdom of what it means to be a woman alive with the fury of creation and the whirling contagion of her own purpose.

Through their words, each woman took me by the hand and led me to a door behind which stood the room of her life story. They opened the doors for me and I wandered among the furniture of their pain, the memorabilia of their triumph, and the fixtures of their everyday experiences, all of which shaped the words they chose and the stories they wrote. I looked around these rooms in awe, while my intuition took copious notes on what it means to be a woman. My guides throughout this experience walked beside me as patient, kind mentors, teaching me how to grow into myself.

I cherished this class as an opportunity to connect with these incredible women and to share in the gentle genius standing firm inside each beautiful body. I saw in these women things I hope to see in myself one day—courage, resolve, dignity, peace, strength, and light. I learned much from these women, greedily lapping the overflow from their fountains of experience.

The word “blessed” scrolled across my mind throughout our time together. Gratitude floods me each time I conjure the community’s spirit when we are apart. I will miss our weekly gatherings and will have to forage deep within my own forest for a sustenance that even begins to approximate that which I have received from these generous companions. Throughout the remainder of my journey as a writer and as a woman, I will cling to each woman’s blazing gift, holding them close to my soul to light the way.

We must cherish the community
as we cherish the urn that contains
our mother’s ashes and our memories
of her lifetime. It is a vessel that
surrounds our essence. We must look
beyond the night of class and the security
of the closed circle to our other lives.

How can we spread the respect and value

to more and more of our world?
We must realize that as we express ourselves
more and more freely, more of our real selves
will surface. We may find guilt, ugliness, and
utmost sadness along with the laughter and joy.

We must be willing to accept all emotions
that arise. Is our container made of Styrofoam
that is easily crushed but may outlive our
generation? Or is it pottery which starts with
clay, becomes hard, and returns to essence more quickly?

Here we can say “motherfucker” and mother love with
the same expectation of acceptance. Here we can
swim out as far as we think we can and then
beyond that with the steady shout of “courage” from
the boat beside us. The waves not drowning us, but
inspiring us to continue writing amid the storms.

The container circles us, providing us with space
for our stories, our lives and as we come to know it
and share it, we grow to trust more, explore more, and
be more. Janice