What to expect at a Women's Drum Circle in the Woods
A recent wintery women’s drum circle warmed by fire, drumming, movement and sisterhood
The grove in the woodland. Fire crackling. Trees standing witness. Women gathering.
However you arrive, be it curious, nervous, excited, uncertain; there's a place for you here.
“A truly wonderful night with an amazing group of women. Ruth is an excellent facilitator and everyone felt safely held and nurtured. I can’t wait until the next one!”
Arriving in your Body
We begin with feeling.
I guide you to simply notice. Where are your feet connecting with earth? What's the quality of your breath? Where are you holding tension in your body - shoulders, jaw, belly, throat?
This is somatic practice, which means we're working with what you actually feel in your body, not what you think you should feel.
If you live with chronic pain like I do, you know how frightening it can be to actually feel your body. How disconnection becomes a survival strategy.
So we don't force anything. We just notice. Create space. Offer permission.
You might close your eyes. You might keep them on the fire. You might feel tears rising or joy stirring or something else. Whatever's here is exactly right.
The Land teaches us
The trees are part of the work.
They know something about weathering storms while staying rooted. About drawing energy back into their core when it's time to rest. About seasonal cycles of release and renewal.
In autumn, we watch them call their life force home from their leaves, teaching us about boundaries - what's mine to tend, what's ready to fall away. In winter's depth, we learn from their apparent stillness that's actually deep dreaming and transformation underground. In early spring, we witness the first stirrings of new growth while winter's wisdom is still held in the earth.
When you're in circle, breathing with these trees, something in your body recognises:
I'm like this. I'm part of this. I AM this.
When Women remember we are Nature
There's a moment that happens - not for everyone, not every time, but often enough that it's unmistakable.
A woman is drumming, or swaying, or simply breathing, and something in her face changes. The mask drops. The performing stops. She's not thinking about what she looks like or whether she's doing it right.
She's just... here. Animal. Elemental. Real.
“A beautiful space where women are free to be themselves and be part of the healing power of nature and the vibration of the drums.”
This is what happens when women remember we ARE nature, not separate from it.
We've been taught that "civilized" means controlled. That our wildness needs taming. That our cycles are inconvenient. That our emotions should be managed. That our bodies are problems to be solved.
But nature doesn't work like that. Rivers flood. Storms rage. Seasons turn. Seeds rest in dark earth before they grow. Nothing in nature is productive and controlled and "on" all the time.
When you're standing barefoot on earth, smoke in your hair, drum in your hands, something ancient wakes up. Your body remembers: you're not a machine. You're a living, breathing, cyclical, emotional, powerful force of nature.
And suddenly all that pressure to be productive and linear and always okay makes no sense. Because that's not how you work. That's not how any of us women are meant to work.
Having a wee rest and chat on the break
The Drumming begins
The rhythm starts gently.
Some women pick up their drums immediately. Others sit quietly, receiving the sound.
The drums speak our emotions. The fire transmutes. The trees witness. Women's voices rise and fall. We're all in conversation - rhythm and flame, breath and earth, sound and silence.
The rhythm builds gradually. Some women drum with fierce intensity. Others shake rattles. Others move their bodies; swaying, rocking, eventually standing, dancing if that's what wants to emerge.
“Wonderful evening of drumming, movement, sharing and fellowship in a beautiful natural setting in the woods. Firelight and moonlight and brilliant company. Very uplifting.”
Nobody's watching you. Everyone's too busy being in their own experience. That's the gift of this space. You can be however you are. Drum wildly or sit in stillness. Cry or laugh or stay quiet. Express or witness. All of it welcome.
The sound builds until the whole grove is vibrating with rhythm. Your body may start to move without thinking about it. Your breath may deepen. Something tight in your chest may start to loosen.
Working with fire, sound, and expression
Each circle is aligned with where we are in the year's turning - the specific energy and wisdom this season offers.
We work with fire because fire transforms. The flames receive what we're ready to release. The heat reminds us we're alive, we're here, we're allowed to take up space.
And we work with ritual - simple, clear containers that create the conditions for something real to emerge.
Most of life doesn't give us permission to actually express what we feel. To make sound. To move our bodies without apologising. To let what's inside come out.
Here, there's structure that holds you. You know what's happening, when, how. Within that container, something spontaneous and authentic can unfold.
One woman starts to make sound - maybe a hum, maybe a roar, maybe something between laughter and crying that has no name. It comes from her body, not her thinking mind.
And then another woman joins. And another. The sound builds, harmonises, becomes something bigger than any one voice.
“Witnessing the women dancing around the circle with their drum and bells, removing their shoes to dance barefoot together was beautiful. They were all so wild and free. My heart was bursting. Where else in our modern society can women be free like that? It’s beautiful to see women singing, and using their voices too. It’s amazing how quickly they sense the energy of the safe space - you can see those barriers lowering, masks being cast aside to reveal the true wild woman within.”
This is bodily, somatic expression of what needs to be felt. Not performance. Not trying to sound good or spiritual or anything. Just...letting it out. Letting it move.
The fire witnesses. The trees witness. The circle of women witnesses without trying to fix or change anything.
And something that's been held tight for maybe years, may finally get a chance to breathe.
What the circle of women makes possible
Sisterhood and connection
There's a particular kind of power that emerges when women witness women without judgment.
In just being seen and held. In being allowed to take up space exactly as you are.
For many of us, so much of life requires masks. The professional mask. The good daughter mask. The one who has it all together. We learned to read the room, manage reactions, make ourselves palatable. It's how we navigate. It's what we have had to do to survive.
Not here.
Here, if you need to rage, you rage. If you need to weep, you weep. If you need to sit in silence, you sit in silence. If you need to throw your head back and howl at the sky, we'll probably join you!
The masks come off, and underneath all that protection is the woman you actually are - wild, tender, fierce, vulnerable, powerful, uncertain, ALL of it.
The Shift that happens in Circle
By the time we close the circle with darkness fully settled, fire still burning - something has moved.
You might feel more solid in your body. More clear about what's yours and what isn't. Less apologetic about taking up space.
Or maybe it's subtler than that. Maybe you just feel... quieter. More yourself. Like something that was out of alignment has shifted back into place.
“A magical evening drumming in the woods with incredible, beautiful souls. I can’t begin to describe the calmness, contentment and connection felt. The vulnerability, the lowering of guards, the authenticity of all the women and the healing brought as a result. The transformation as the real, true women began to emerge from behind the masks that the pressures of modern society place on us. Thank you Ruth for bringing us together and holding space for us to be our authentic selves.”
You gather your things. Say your goodbyes. Walk back through the dark woodland, torch lighting the path, other women's voices around you.
You have earth under your fingernails. Smoke in your hair and clothes. The rhythm of the drum still moving through your body.
And something remembered in your bones.
You don’t need to feel ready
If you're reading this wondering whether you're ready, whether you're spiritual enough, whether you'll know what to do - those questions make sense. And yet, they also don't matter.
You don't need to be ready. You don't need to be anything other than yourself.
