Sisterhood in the Kitchen
I ran off on an apple-cidering adventure last week. And what an adventure it was! We visited with dear friends. We saw beautiful blue skies and the colors of autumn in New England. We ate seafood along the Maine coast. We met tons of nice people. And we hand-pressed apples with a 102-year-old cider press… and then of course we drank that delicious cider. It was a wonderful long weekend.
I want to share with you a moment in time within this weekend, one that struck me so deeply. The big cider-pressing party started Sunday at 11:00 AM. The morning was spent making food and setting up. It somehow ended up that the men were outside in the cold, moving and hauling heavy things, and we two women were in the kitchen. As a solo mama, I often am doing most (or all) of the jobs in everyday life. So, to have my child out with the men, tended and happily part of meaningful work… and for me to be inside in the cozy kitchen with a dear friend… I was beside myself with happiness.
And then I realized something. There was this synergy, this magic happening. My dear friend and I sliced and chopped and stirred and adjusted the flame on the stove. She told me stories about the heritage of the antiques in her kitchen… the beautiful cabinet that was her mother’s and the story behind it, the ingenious design of uncommon pots and pans... we just chit-chatted away, told stories, and generally enjoyed our time. I got to know her kitchen, and worked within it with familiarity and ease.
After a while, we realized what was happening. We were experiencing an ages-old kind of kinship, sisterhood, intimacy that women of the millennia (all people, really) once knew so well. Shoulder-to-shoulder, we were working together with our hands, delighting in the process, sharing ideas. Kind of like the way quilting circles held women in community- women, when working together (with their hands busy), naturally attune to each other and themselves, naturally start sharing their stories, their wonderings. There is a kind of magic that happens when people work together (toward a common goal) with their hands.
I realized that I often desire this with friends, and I mentioned this to her. That I often find myself in a friend’s kitchen, and feel drawn to the experience of cooking in it, working together in it. I crave the sisterhood of sharing a kitchen (and a project) for a moment. I mentioned this to my friend, and she said that she was marveling at the experience we were having too. This kind of sisterhood intimacy wasn’t common in her life either.
Then we sat down to tea and ate cookies. At 10:00 in the morning. (Oreos, in fact. That I had brought as a treat. Such a delightful departure from my usual food choices!). Everything was settled on the stove. We could rest before the party began. REST! What a concept! We sat at her circular table tucked under a window in the kitchen, sipped tea, savored our oreos, relaxed our bodies, and told more stories together… delighting in the magic of it all.
I am really struck by this particular moment, this example of traditional women’s work.
Now don’t let me mislead you: I am a proud progressive who will support all people in whatever makes their heart sing. No one should be working in a kitchen unless they choose it for themselves. We should all be free to create our own paths, write our own identities, and choose our own meaningful work.
And. There is some little glistening thing about people working together (especially many generation of peoples), hands engaged. Magic happens. I could feel it in the kitchen work. And I could feel it happening outside as the men worked and hauled to create the setting for an outdoor party. It’s a magic far different from just visiting someone. It’s not the same as going for a walk together. It’s quite different, actually. I had been craving it but couldn’t have really named what it was until I felt it. Until I was saturated in it.
As I sit back and reflect, I remember seeing this happen in India- women of all generations living together in slums, cooking, resting with tea, raising their babies, mending… telling stories… all together in the connection of sisterhood. This is still the backbone of the lives of so many women around the world today. And honestly, it keeps these women and their babies alive. It holds families and villages together. This kind of intergenerational connection helps ensure the survival of people, especially during hard times. I remember witnessing this, being offered a place to sit and join the women in sipping tea. I remember how jealous I felt of these women, who were impoverished, undernourished, often living in fear… These women had something that I didn’t: A lifelong village-based sisterhood that wove their fabric of belonging.
Now that I am starting to understand this phenomenon, I can see how, to a degree, this has held women, children, families, friends, and villages together. This shared co-creation, this working together toward a common goal. The synergy, the magic of the connection, and the intimacy that comes of it…. We as humans need this as much as we need our next breath. I believe it’s in our DNA to work shoulder-to-shoulder with other humans, with our hands engaged. It feeds us emotionally, creates safety, meaning and belonging in a very important way.
I want this for you, for me, for our children, our families, our villages. I want this for all of us, every day. I want us so saturated in this that we no longer see it as a novel experience, but instead as the fabric of everyday life, the fabric that holds us together in intergenerational community.
How does this land for you?
I believe we are now in a time of purposeful “re-villaging”. I invite you to consider teensy ways in which you can be part of this movement. How can you invite others into the shared intimacy of shoulder-to-shoulder, hands-engaged work? Who would you invite? What kind of work would you do together?
I’ll be right here with you, finding my ways to re-village in this way. Who shall I invite in, and what shall we do together? What an exciting thing it is to envision and then begin to create this. For us.
In deep gratitude for everything in this sweet life,
Rebecca
* Disclaimer: This likely goes without saying, but I'll say it anyway: Everything I write is for educational purposes only. Nothing I write or share can be deemed diagnostic or medical advice. Nothing I write or share can replace your own healthcare providers or your own internal knowing and wisdom. Period. Please seek tailored medical care and advice via your skilled healthcare team whenever you need it.
