Sacred Women Gatherings

There is something profoundly ancient and deeply human about gathering in circle. Women have been coming together in this way for generations, across lands, cultures, and time. Circles are places of connection, storytelling, and shared wisdom; spaces where women support one another and honour the natural cycles of life.

The circle itself holds powerful symbolism. It has no beginning and no end; it invites equality, presence, and deep listening. No one stands above another. Each voice matters. Each story is worthy. Within the circle, we are reminded that we belong.

In today’s fast paced, increasingly technological and often individualistic world, women’s circles are returning, and I feel we need them now more than ever. There is a quiet remembering happening. A longing to slow down, to sit together, to be witnessed, and to witness others in return.

Sacred Talking Circles are something I feel deeply called to offer. I gather women, midwives, and those who walk alongside pregnant women and families, and we come together to learn, to listen, and to share. In these spaces, everyone is both teacher and learner. There is no hierarchy in wisdom. It is the weaving together of lived experience.

What does sacred mean?

Sacred is not about perfection, and it is not about something separate or unreachable. It is not reserved for special places or certain people. Sacred lives in the ordinary moments of our lives when we bring presence, intention, and reverence to what is unfolding.

The word itself has roots in old languages meaning to make holy, to dedicate, to set apart. Across cultures and through time, what has been called sacred is often what is deeply valued, protected, and honoured. Birth has always been one of these sacred thresholds. So too has the gathering of women.

Long before modern systems and structures, women came together in quiet spaces, around fires, in homes, on the land, to share stories, to prepare for birth, to tend to one another in postpartum, and to make sense of life. These were sacred spaces not because of ritual alone, but because of the depth of presence, truth, and connection held within them.

There is also a long history of men gathering in their own circles, sitting with Elders, sharing stories, and learning their place within family and community; a reminder that coming together in this way is something deeply human, and something we are all being called to remember in our own ways.

When I speak of Sacred Women Gatherings, I am speaking to this remembering.A space where women can arrive as they are. Where nothing needs to be performed or perfected. Where stories can be spoken, or simply held in silence. Where laughter and tears sit side by side. Where each woman is met with respect, without judgement.

Sacred, to me, is the way we listen.
Sacred is the way we hold one another.
Sacred is the courage it takes to speak truth, and the tenderness it takes to receive it. It is the energy we co-create when we gather with intention. It is also deeply human. Grounded. Real. At times messy, at times light, often both in the same breath.There is something powerful that happens when we begin to see our lives, our births, our mothering, and our relationships as sacred. Not because they are going on a particular path, or are easy or beautiful, but because they matter! Because they shape us. Because they are worthy of our attention and care. This is the spirit in which I offer these gatherings. A remembering that the sacred is not outside of us. It lives within us, and between us, when we choose to come together in this way.

My own journey as a midwife has taken me across many settings; small rural hospitals, large metropolitan hospital in Sydney, homebirth, and birth centre across Australia and New Zealand. I have also walked this path as a mother, birthing my two children in a hospital and at home. These experiences have shaped me, and shown me, time and time again, that no two women are the same. Each brings her own values, needs, hopes, and stories into her pregnancy, her birth, and her mothering.

Now, at 52, I feel myself stepping into a matriarchal role. I can feel it in my bones. There is a deeper listening, and a call to speak more of my stories and my truth and knowing. I am drawn to sit with women all of ages, same age as me, younger than me, and those older than me, to listen, to learn, and to honour the wisdom that lives in every season of a woman’s life.

We all carry different stories as we move through the years of motherhood over different generations and places. What a gift it is to sit side by side, to hold one another, to laugh together, and to stay steady as truth is spoken. Sometimes our voices may quiver as we share stories that feel tender, raw, or difficult to speak. Other times, we are celebrating the beauty and joy woven through our mothering.

In these circles, all of it is welcome.

The real, the raw, and the silent experiences that women carry. The grief, the guilt, the shame that can sit quietly beneath the surface, shaped at times by social norms that ask us to stay silent and keep things hidden. The love, the pride, the wonder, and the deep devotion that also lives there. Whatever is ready to arise, whatever has been building, I invite space for it to be expressed. Each woman being courageous and brave to speak her truth, and the circle of women hold her in silence as she gives voice to a feeling or experience that she may not have ever shared before. This is powerful.

Women are welcome to come and share, or simply to sit and listen deeply. To witness the stories of others, and remember that we are all connected. Even when we have not met before, there is a common thread that brings us together. A human longing for connection. A yearning to understand more deeply. A desire to experience this life in a felt and embodied way, rather than in isolation or from behind a screen.

In this fast paced technological world, I believe we are being called back to the old ways of gathering. Back to community. Back to sitting together, and remembering who we are.

I often leave these circles feeling energetically and emotionally lifted. There is something powerful that happens when women gather in circle. Something that cannot be replicated elsewhere.

Stories are powerful teachers. Through them, we come to understand that what happens in birth truly matters. How a woman feels during pregnancy, during labour, and as she steps into motherhood, stays with her. These experiences are remembered and woven into the fabric of her life. And how babies are born matters too. It shapes their entry into the world, and the beginning of their story.

Over time, I have come to sit with the full spectrum of my own experiences in childbirth and mothering. This includes the moments that were beautiful and expansive, and also those that felt challenging, painful, or difficult to understand. It can feel unfamiliar, uncomfortable, to consider gratitude for the harder experiences. Yet I have found that these moments, too, are powerful teachers. They continue to shape me, to deepen me, and to invite me to remain curious. To stay open. To keep listening.

When we create spaces where women feel safe, respected, and supported to be themselves, something powerful emerges. Women begin to trust their bodies, their instincts, and their capacity. They rise from their childbirth experiences feeling strong (spiritually), confident, and deeply connected to themselves and their babies.

There is a moment, sometimes quiet, sometimes fierce, where a woman realises, I can do anything! And when a woman feels this, it does not stop with her. It ripples outward into her family, her community, and beyond. This is why Sacred Talking Circles matter.

They are not just a gathering. They are a remembering. A reclaiming of something we have always known. A return to listening deeply, speaking truthfully, and honouring the wisdom that lives within us all.

I am deeply grateful to be a 52 year old woman. Grateful for all that I have lived, learned, and continue to unfold. It is an honour to walk alongside women, to serve mothers, babies, and families, and to remain a student of this work.

I hope that women feel uplifted as you take yourself to join a women’s circle where you live, or feel inspired to create and build your own. It often begins with just a few simple steps; reaching out, making a phone call, or connecting with another woman. From there, something beautiful can grow.

If you feel the call to sit in circle, you are warmly welcome. Wherever you are in your life as a woman, there is a place for you here.

If you are local to the Sunshine Coast Queensland, reach out if you would like to join one of my monthly gatherings.

We all carry different stories as we move through the years of motherhood. What a gift it is to sit side by side, to hold one another, to laugh together, and to stay steady as truth is spoken. Sometimes our voices may quiver as we share stories that feel tender, raw, or difficult to speak. Other times, we are celebrating the beauty and joy woven through our mothering.

In these moments, I gently invite women to give themselves permission to feel it all. The tears, the anger, the shame, the deep belly laughs, the guttural cries that rise from somewhere deep within. All of it is welcome. All of it belongs.

What I believe we are doing in these circles is softly pulling down the barriers of the human experience. Allowing ourselves to be as we are, raw, vulnerable, and real, much like the thresholds of pregnancy, labour, birth, and postpartum where nothing can be hidden and everything asks to be seen.

I understand that this can feel confronting. It may be why some women hesitate to come to gatherings, especially if they do not yet know someone, or feel they do not have a safe place to land. This is something I hold with great care. My intention is to continue gently breaking down these learned society patterns, the need to keep up appearances, to have it all together, to stay contained.

Life is asking something different of us.

With both of my parents now in their 80s, I feel this more deeply than ever. One of my greatest lessons right now is to live the life of my dreams each and every day. To be kind, to be present, and to not rush past the simple, beautiful moments that make up a life. To pause, to notice, to breathe it in.

Today I smelt the rain. The magnificence of petrichor; reminding me how extraordinary it is to be alive and deeply present here on this earth.

Love Sal.