This is not a discussion to solve or debate. It is a practice of naming what is true and letting it be witnessed. This is a practice of "sitting with it." How this works: Read the Call slowly. Respond from the body, not the polished mind. When replying to others, offer reflection, not advice. Begin with: “I hear…”, “I witness…”, or “What this stirs in me…” CALL: Where in your life are you standing at a threshold, even if you haven’t chosen to name it yet? What is loosening, unraveling, or asking to be released? RESPONSE (your share): One sentence is enough. Fragments are welcome. Silence is also a response (return when ready) WITNESSING OTHERS: Do not fix. Do not interpret. Do not redirect.

This week I’m noticing things first in the body, not the mind. A place of holding. A place of ease. A place that’s asking for attention, or rest. For me, it’s a quiet tightness in my throat. Not urgent. Just present. If you want to respond, you’re welcome to name where you feel yourself today. A body place. A sensation. Even just “here.” No fixing or explaining. Listening is also participation. We are not assigning meaning. We are simply noticing.

I’m going to name something quietly. Small spaces can feel louder than big ones. When there’s depth in the room, it can feel like you need to arrive fully formed to speak at all. That’s not what this is for. This space isn’t a performance and it isn’t a proving ground. It’s a place to show up mid-thought, mid-feeling, or not very clear at all. There’s no expectation to be deep here. No expectation to be consistent. No expectation to share anything polished. Today feels like a holding day for me. Nothing profound. Just present.

Ritual work is not what it is normally portrayed as. Here in this space, ritual plays a big part of the larger work. Much of it is call and response. Call and response in ritual work is a way of being in relationship. One voice speaks, another answers. Not to explain or to fix, but to acknowledge that something was heard. The call names what is alive, unresolved, or moving beneath the surface. It opens space rather than offering conclusions. The response doesn’t complete the call or make sense of it, it simply meets it. Sometimes with words, and sometimes with breath, gesture, or silence. This practice creates rhythm and safety. It pulls us out of isolation and into shared presence. It reminds us that wisdom doesn’t live in a single voice, but in what happens between us...between body and land, question and breath. Call and response isn’t about performance or instruction. It’s listening out loud. At its heart, it’s a simple agreement: "I will speak what is true for me. I will listen when you answer."