I had a privilege to facilitate the Singing Birth Workshop in Ljubljana in March, with my fellow sister Ksenija Malia Leban and the amazing Slovenian women. It's been intense and moving, we sang, danced, we told stories and we went into deep caves of our ancestral memories to bring up some sense in our hectic present.
We forgot! We forgot so many things from our past, and we are left floating in oblivion where nothing makes sense. Still, life goes on, and sometimes you see yourself running in circles. There is a feeling that something is missing... Yet, we just can't see what it is.
I call it "community on demand". I know, it sounds too little... But this is what it is: perfect strangers gather for some days, they connect so deep that is feels like family and then... marry meet and marry part, and marry meet again. Yet, we become "sisters", and it feels real. When one of us calls, we are here. Some communities grow wider, some dissolve, but we all become part of the rhisomatic web of worldwide sisterhood. It feels warm inside.
Singing Birth Workshops make perfect strangers become sisters and feel the unity through song sang in intuitive multilingual choirs. The time stretches and we fly on our brooms made of dopamines and endorphins, propelled by oxytocin and seratonin. It feels damn good.
"I'm Opening Up", the doulas song, in English and in Slovenian (wording by the translator and poetress Ksenija Malia Leban)
The everyday life starts moving in a distant place and the sisterhood takes place in our hearts. It's not easy and we are far from the sense of community we long for, since our communities dissolved. But it's something. It's moving in waves and it fills every cell of your body. Your body starts vibrating, becoming hot and juicy.
We laugh from our bellies. Big bellies within us start double dancing slowly and sensually, embraced by other mothers and sisters. Babies in the bellies are happy when mamas sing and dance. They participate too and move in the rhythm. Empty bellies feel the warmth growing inside. It's there.
Thick fabric of stories start weaving in the air, that stay until the next day. At the end, we bring a piece of this magic textile with us back home.