THE LIVING CIRCLE

As I sit today, five small photos are laid out on top of the journal beside me. The photos remind me of the reason I write, they remind me that words indeed matter, and they remind me that I am not alone.

I have cherished one particular photo for years. 

Captured near the Tanzania/Kenya border, the photo shows a group of female elephants huddled together in circular fashion, their hinds and tails pointed in towards each other, their faces and tusks directioned proudly out. Both big and small, they stand shoulder-to-shoulder with their weathered bodies positioned in proud defiance. Their strength is palpable, their intentions, firm. You can take in the beauty of the image through the link provided here. 

What you cannot see in the picture is the reason the elephants have joined in such a mass show of strength and resolve. You also cannot see that their bodies are likely in motion, stomping and kicking up dirt to protect the elephant that stands unseen inside the living circle.

The vulnerable elephant inside the circle.

Either injured or in the midst of childbirth, the center elephant would otherwise be subject to predators and attack, save for the living wall that surrounds her.

I can’t tell you how much I love this photo.

I can’t tell you how much I want this photo for my friends, how much I want this photo for my world.

This past Christmas a friend dropped a small gift on my porch, a small fabric satchel with a note and small wooden elephant inside. The note told of the story of the circle, of the way female elephants join to protect their own. The note thanked me for being part of my friend’s living circle.

My friend had not known of the photo I hold so dear, and so the gift became more than just a small carved ornament, it became a reminder of where the image has always drawn me, a reminder of my hopes for my friends and my world.

We all have moments of vulnerability, moments where we are subject to predators or attack. We have all been injured - by circumstances, by relationships, by the physical failings of our bodies. And there are times when we all dare to give birth - to hope greatly, to dream big, to wrestle possibility into reality.

Oh that we would always have our living circle.

And that we would be willing to stand inside it.

At this time last year I was forced to choose if I would step inside my circle. Locked in debilitating physical pain as a result of a failed cervical disc, I was metaphorically wandering my African plains alone, attempting to mold pride into strength but becoming weaker and weaker by the moment. 

But my circle was waiting, once I chose to step inside it.

These days I am daring to give birth, attempting to deny fear as I hope greatly, trying to heal the past as I dream big for the future. It’s a scary world out here when you begin to lower your walls and embrace vulnerability, but again, my circle is waiting.

To both step inside and position oneself as a part of the circle requires great strength and understanding of identity. We have so much to give and so much to receive, if only we will find ourselves worthy.

And this is why I treasure my elephant photo so much, why I break from writing and avert my eyes from my computer screen to catch a glimpse of the united strength staring back up at me: 

If through words we could find ourselves worthy, the circle could be real. 

I hope you’ll join me in the circle.

I hope you’ll join me in finding yourself worthy.