Inside the Red Tent

On Saturday I spent the most wonderful evening with my book group sisters, inside a magnificent Red Tent.  We conceived the idea after reading the book for book club last year and loving it.  Kelli was especially fascinated and enthusiastic about a space where women could retreat and care for one another.  So we planned a special party (a surprise party!!!) for her 39th birthday.  It also turned out to be the week she moved out of her home, left her husband and began a new chapter in her life.

It's difficult to describe the atmosphere inside - giddy, laughing women so excited to be surprising Kelli.  The space itself was beautiful - fabrics and tulle and candles everywhere so it truly felt like a tent (minus the straw on the floor - if that doesn't make sense, read the book).  Huge platters of Mediterrean foods and bottles of wine.  Cushions everywhere.  Women happy to just be together.

We shared stories and inspired quotes (mine's too dirty to publish online- yes, really), wore special beads in solidarity, gave each other pedicures and henna, read Tarot.  It was magical.  Those without nurslings spent the night, staying up until 1 am, just talking, as women do.

Our goal was to fill Kelli with love and inspiration, enough to not only celebrate a special birthday, but see her through a momentous change.

I'm still wearing my bead, right next to my heart, carrying this special night filled with empowerment and encouragement and acceptance and women's love with me.

Here is the story I shared:

When I was 23 years old, I was assigned as a graduate student to teach several History recitation sections.  I had excelled in school, but hated speaking in public, hated speaking in class, hated giving presentations.  I was pretty much terrified of speaking in front of others and avoided it at all costs.  Now I was going to have to not just speak to a bunch of undergrad students, but actually try and teach them something, several times a week, for the next couple years.  I didn’t get any training or anything like that; it was just assumed that grad students could speak and teach.  And I really needed the money.

I stood outside my class on my first day ready to puke.  I felt paralyzed with fear and the clock was ticking.  One of my professors happened to be walking by and noticed me standing there.  She took me to the water fountain and had me run my wrists under cold water (supposedly it helps cool your blood and make you calm - I think she might have just made it up), and then said “Sasha didn’t you give birth to a baby?  Without drugs?” and she laughed, really heartily.  “How could teaching this class possibly compare to that?”  I got it.  I had already done much harder things.  What bad thing would happen if I didn’t do that well?  (One of my students reported that I said “um” too much on my eval.)  I took a deep breath and walked in, and tried to teach them something, I don’t even remember what.  I have carried that day - and that accomplishment, facing my fear, around with me ever since.  What I learned that day is that I am stronger than I think I am, the things I am so afraid of aren’t really so scary usually, and I have done lots of hard things, things other people can’t do and done them well.  You have too.  By the beautiful age of 39 years, you can live fearlessly, because there is nothing stopping you.  Happy Birthday Kelli.  May this be your most amazing year yet.