Nobody has the perfect plan for healing patriarchy and building a more life-serving culture. We are facing this transition together, creating moments of healing collectively.
During the Regenera residency in Denmark, I experienced powerful moments of healing patriarchy, moments when we tuned into our intuition, imagination, and deeper wisdom. Doing this in a community allowed healing rituals and spaces to become grounded in everyday life and everyday interactions.
Because healing isn’t just a personal journey, it’s a collective act of reclamation.
This poem captures my female experience in Regenera.
I sit with this inquiry, how to forgive patriarchy, how to forgive men, how to forgive myself, for what patriarchy taught me to do. I don’t want any more blame men, hate men, rebel against or compete with them. I sit with this inquiry, how to heal the wound of patriarchy. It sometimes feels bottomless, when listening to the pain of other women and stories of touch that were never invited, when listening to the pain of men and how there is no room for sensitivity. We touched and tended this wound, we raged, cried, purged and shouted. We created space to mourn, spaces to dance wildly with sisters, spaces to hear each other. Men listened to the women's anger, knowing it is a sign of healing, not revenge. We created spaces for touch, where my body felt safe and respected, learning that touch is a way to care, not a way to consume the body. Healing doesn’t come from the mind, it comes through the body. My cells carry stories from past generations, stories of witches, sluts, healers, mothers, crones. It's time for new stories to come alive. I sit with this inquiry, how to see each other without the layers of patriarchy. I imagine a life that embraces femininity, celebrates women taking space, men being vulnerable, honours cycles, appreciates the sacred time of bleeding. A life that treats sexuality as something beautiful something sacred. Our rage, tears, love, tenderness, and wildness, cure the wound of patriarchy. Forgiveness is not linear, it spirals. Sometimes loud, sometimes quiet and soft, always beyond sense-making. Little by little, our bodies learn new stories, our cells remember other realities.