Collective Healing: Stronger Together
At the Light House, we believe that we don't heal in isolation. Our ancestors understood the vital importance of communal support, particularly around caregiving. Read on as we explore how reweaving essential networks of care can sustain us through life's journeys.
Reweaving Our Healing Community
In a culture that often celebrates independence above all, many of us—especially mothers—find ourselves disconnected from the support networks humans have relied upon throughout our evolution. We've all heard the phrase "it takes a village," but simply acknowledging this truth isn't enough to create the connections we need.
True resilience comes not from standing alone, but from being held within a web of relationships that nourish and uplift us. When we cultivate our circle of support, we create space not only for our own flourishing but for the wellbeing of our entire community.
We invite you to reflect:
Who forms your circle of support?
Where might you welcome more connection?
How can you both receive and offer care within your community?
Practitioner Spotlight: Clara Wisner
We're delighted to welcome Clara Wisner to the Light House community. Clara is a nutritionist, mother, and teacher of deep feminine nourishment who blends knowledge of nutrition, cellular biology, and feminine physiology with spiritual practice.
Beyond the familiar refrain of "it takes a village," community can be viewed in a more nuanced way. What would happen if we focused less on finding the perfect, like-minded village and instead opened ourselves to the assistance that may already exist around us?
Building meaningful connections isn't necessarily about surrounding ourselves with people who share all our values and beliefs. Rather, it's about developing the capacity to receive help in whatever form it appears. This might mean accepting assistance from someone whose parenting style differs from our own, or recognizing that genuine connection can transcend differences in perspective.
In rural communities, this practical cooperation often emerges naturally. Neighbors who can watch children for an hour, friends who bring meals during difficult times, or family members who offer practical help create a network of care that supports us through challenges.
This perspective invites a reconsideration of our expectations about community and the ways we accept help. Where might we be closing ourselves off to available support? Sometimes the assistance we need most is already present in our lives, but our expectations about what form it should take prevent us from receiving it. Embracing community often means accepting care as it's naturally offered, rather than only in the ways we imagine it should appear.
While personal self-care remains valuable, some of our deepest needs can only be met through physical presence and connection with others. This requires vulnerability—the willingness to release our tight grip on control, to look up from our individual struggles, and to allow ourselves to be held by others.
At the heart of Clara's philosophy is a powerful observation about maternal nourishment. "Paradoxically, mothers are severely lacking in the nutrient of Mother," Clara explains. "As mothers, we are designed to be surrounded by other women. We need their touch and embraces. We need their home-cooked food. We need to be mirrored and given reflections."
In a society that often leaves mothers rushing from task to task with little margin, receptivity can feel challenging, even unsafe. The pressure to handle everything independently creates barriers to asking for and accepting help. Yet learning to receive might be precisely the medicine needed—not just for personal wellbeing, but for modeling wholeness to our children. Small steps toward openness—accepting a neighbor's offer to watch your child for an hour, saying yes to a home-cooked meal, or simply allowing someone to hold space for your experience—can gradually make receiving support feel more natural and less threatening.
Join us for our weekly Mother’s Circle.
Tuesdays, 10:30-11:30am | $30*
These weekly gatherings serve as an antidote to isolation. Even connecting for an hour provides essential nourishment. This welcoming space embraces anyone on the "mother continuum"—whether you're a mother, want to be a mother, or are a grandmother.
The format honors feminine ways of learning through witnessing and mirroring rather than hierarchical instruction. This approach acknowledges that everyone has wisdom to share and questions to explore. Each circle becomes a collaborative learning environment where mothers uplift one another through shared experience.
Each month explores a theme—May's is "Seeing Yourself Through the Eyes of the Mother." Sessions include discussion, sharing, and various practices including movement, sound, and somatic exercises tailored to the group's needs.
Children are welcome, though this is a space primarily focused on mothers themselves. This deliberate centering creates a rare opportunity in a culture where mothers are typically expected to put everyone else first.
* If finances are the thing holding you back from coming, please send an email to hello@lighthousebzn.love.
Reflection: The Ecology of Care
"Care ecology" refers to the intricate web of relationships, practices, and systems that nurture wellbeing in our communities. Like any ecosystem, our networks of care thrive with diversity, reciprocity, and balance.
The matriarchal medicine movement reminds us that healing traditions were often preserved and transmitted through lineages of women who understood care as a communal responsibility rather than an individual burden.
Our guiding principle—"We are walking each other home"—speaks to how we care for one another. When we come together at the Light House, we're doing more than self-care. We're showing up for each other and creating the kind of community connection that humans have always needed to truly thrive.
This Mother's Day, we're invited to consider the continuum of mothering that has made our lives possible. When we acknowledge this lineage, we recognize both the wounds and the wisdom carried through generations.
By creating intentional gatherings for communal care, we begin to reweave what has been unraveled in our individualistic society. We honor those who mothered before us—in all their complexity—while cultivating new patterns of nourishment and mutual aid.
As we honor these wisdom keepers this month, we might ask:
How can we create structures of care that energize rather than deplete us?
What wisdom from matriarchal traditions might guide our contemporary communities?
How might we reweave the social fabric to hold us all more tenderly?
Space is limited for group experiences. Pre-registration required.
