The theme chosen for this issue was "Solitaries," but when I began typing this article, "Circles" came out. Some would blame it on the fey, others on an obtuse muse. For me, I know it was my twin. We Geminis get used to this sort of thing.
Yet, solitaires and circles are not necessarily opposites. Some solitaries are refugees from dysfunctional circles, while others rejoin circles to rekindle a more social worship practice. Many Wiccans, myself among them, enjoy both our own private practice and group rituals. It is not an either/or situation, but more of a fluid spectrum. In the Northwest we are fortunate to enjoy widely diverse opportunities to seek our spiritual meaning and to change it at will, while still retaining the respect of the community.
One woman who has a lot to say about circles is Christina Baldwin. Baldwin is a lecturer, author, retreat facilitator, consultant and teacher who wrote Calling the Circle: The First And Future Culture. She lives with her partner on Whidbey Island, teaches at conferences such as Women of Wisdom and consults with human resource and organizational development specialists for major businesses nationwide. Yes, she does cast circles, light candles and call spirits in the bellies of corporate America!
She teaches them something we already know from ritual. "When we call a circle, we cannot expect the circle to work if we simply read the circle guidelines, pass around a talking piece and stay in the same frame of mind in which we usually function. We are challenged to leave our conditioning behind and listen to each other in a different way. To listen for the soul of the dilemma we are all in. To listen for the core of the problem to reveal itself. To experience power in community with each other, and to celebrate this power by sharing responsibility with each other and for the task. To invite the Sacred to rejoin the circle and provide a context of wisdom and guidance larger than the wisdom and guidance of any single person."
This is the same as we do in ritual. We leave our mundane concerns outside and go between the worlds, we state our intention and raise energy together, and we invite the Goddess or God. Baldwin's challenge to us, however, is to apply these principles beyond ritual. She challenges us to use them to manage the mundane affairs of our circles as well.
Circles, corporations, clubs and councils — in fact, any gathering of humans to accomplish a common purpose — face similar organizational issues. One such issue is how to make group decisions. Circles often strive for group consensus, allowing each person to express their opinion and resorting to majority vote only if compromise is unreachable. Each member is responsible for holding the rim of the circle, to respect the other members while challenging them toward the best group decision. Unfortunately, the consensus model often fails to generate effective or timely action. Baldwin recognizes the value of the hierarchical model, as well, for its efficiency in organizing and completing tasks. She calls for a combination of hierarchical and group decision making. The group sets broad policy and chooses a few of their number to carry out the details.
Another woman who has a lot to say about circles is Starhawk. Starhawk is well-known as a priestess, eco-feminist, lecturer and prolific writer, whose thought-filled books include Truth Or Dare: Encounters with Power, Authority, and Mystery. She argues that in every group certain tasks need to be done and roles need to be filled if the group is to function. Circles have to plan, make decisions and rules, cover expenses, enforce discipline, and manage conflict. In circle, she says, "Everyone has immanent value, which does not depend on the performance of particular roles. Nor does the leadership of one diminish anyone else's value."
Circles have to deal with membership as well as leadership. Who is in? Who is out? How do you tell? Defining and maintaining the boundaries of a circle is one of its chief responsibilities. Starhawk says, "Boundaries contain our power so that it can deepen and intensify, and they may keep out what would threaten or disrupt our group. But boundaries might also exclude those who might benefit us or bring us power. A boundary is always, in essence, somewhat arbitrary and false: an island of separation carved out of the rippling whole. Nevertheless, we cannot trust unless we feel safe from intrusion. Each member of a group needs to have some control over who comes in. Each group needs some sense of focus and purpose, which necessarily excludes other possibilities. A group needs a shape and an edge, a skin. Like skin, a boundary both separates and interacts with the world, keeping some things out, letting others in. Boundaries can be thick or thin, solid or permeable, fixed or elastic. But a group with no boundaries is not a safe place to be." She adds, "Establishing limits on membership does not have to be done in a way that devalues outsiders. We can communicate clearly that the group is closing because of its own needs, not because others are judged inferior or unworthy."
So our circles establish criteria for membership. They develop initiation rites, membership dues, vows at Candlemas and other symbols or rituals to let new members in — literally to incorporate them into the body of the group. By these means we establish who may hold the rim of our circle and speak as an equal. But as night follows day, so does expulsion follow incorporation. Rules of expected behavior and clear consequences for violations are unavoidable aspects of any human assembly. A circle needs the inviting Maiden and the nurturing Mother, but it cannot long survive without also the winnowing Crone. As Starhawk says, "When wide-open structure is defined as the only politically correct structure, unrealistic expectations and severe problems can be created. Groups may be stuck with some one who does not fulfill responsibilities, whom nobody else likes, or who is, quite simply, a pain in the ass. If no process exists for asking someone to leave a group, what generally happens is that the productive, amiable members all drop out, one by one. The group dissolves, and its task remains undone."
So circles establish criteria for ending membership as well, and they develop rituals for leave-taking. "When someone leaves a group," says Starhawk, "the people remaining may feel shaken, abandoned, threatened. (They may, of course, also feel relieved)… Formal leave-taking or a farewell ritual can help the group to recover its integrity… A group that needs to heal after someone has left, or after major conflicts, might create a ritual to do so, creating a chance for the members who are left to reaffirm their commitment and express their affection and appreciation for each other."
As Baldwin puts it, "Letting go is a time when being comfortable with ritual helps… We are able to say, with honor, I have loved this. I have fully participated. I have given and received all I could. Now I release it."
The organizational structures of membership, dues, guidelines and decision-making processes are as much a part of casting the mundane circle as the symbols for air, fire, water and earth are a part of casting the ritual circle. Both create safe and sacred space. Both invoke our spiritual consent and commitment to the center. The vision and mission statements give focus to our mundane activity in the same way as intention gives focus to our ritual magic. As Baldwin says, "Every person helps the circle function by assuming small increments of leadership…. Each person pays attention to what needs doing or saying next, and is willing to do their share.… Each person places ultimate reliance in the center and takes their place at the rim. Through simple ritual and consistent refocusing, the center, literally and symbolically, becomes sacred space."
Holding the mundane circle is as much work as holding the ritual circle. We need our criteria for member entry and exit, just like we need to cut a door in the cast circle. Bylaws and rules can feel impersonal, especially when our spiritual practice is one of the most personal aspects of our lives. However, the rewards are rich. A circle well held is a safe place where we can have confidence that no matter how we feel or how others feel toward us, the rules and forms protect us all equally. The rules and forms liberate us to focus on our work, much as a cookbook recipe guides our cooking so we can focus our attention on our guests. Thus we can meet the challenge that Baldwin poses: to bring ritual respect and behavior to our mundane interactions.
Starhawk says we cannot change the world alone, and Baldwin echoes that none of us can travel further by ourselves. We each need to find our circle, to take a firm grip on its rim and hold it responsibly. We need the structures of the mundane circle as much as we need the scripts of the ritual circle. Then we shall travel in the company of many, concludes Baldwin. Then we shall be a great body that can effect change.
Janice Van Cleve, a writer, holds her place on the rim of the Women of the Goddess Circle (see Pagan Resources).
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