Tag: closing the bones

  • The wrapping ritual and the chrysalis: dissolving to transform

    The wrapping ritual and the chrysalis: dissolving to transform

    Everybody knows that when a caterpillar is ready, it forms a chrysalis around itself, and that through an amazing process, hidden from view, it emerges in the completely different form of a butterfly.

    It is a beautiful and powerful metaphor for transformation, and for the moments in a woman’s life when we undergo deep, transformative change: menarche (the onset of puberty and our first period), matrescence (becoming a mother), perimenopause and menopause (the end of our periods), and other important thresholds. The caterpillar goes and hides somewhere enclosed and unseen, and emerges as a different version of itself.

    What you may not know, however, is what has to happen inside the chrysalis for that change to take place. In order to become a butterfly, the caterpillar has to dissolve itself completely. If you were to open the chrysalis at that stage, you would find a sort of “soup” of dissolved caterpillar tissue. Inside this soup, clusters of cells called imaginal discs begin to develop and grow into the new butterfly.

    In the phases of womanhood we don’t transform in such an extreme way on the physical level. But the woman who emerges through these thresholds is a completely different version of her previous self. And, inside, her transformation is just as deep, but in our culture at least, is also largely unappreciated and unseen.

    Which brings me to rituals, and the lack of them in Western culture.

    The rituals we have lost

    Since the dawn of time, human cultures have had rites of passage to support the phases of people’s lives, and women used to have them to mark many thresholds. The role of these rituals is to offer a physical, tangible recognition and celebration of the transformation, one that is witnessed by the community, and that makes the change from one state to another clear and honoured.

    For the last 15 years I have felt the need to recreate these rituals, both for myself and in my work supporting women, first as a doula and then as a ceremonialist, healer and teacher. During my first year as a doula, when I was recognised as experienced by my mentor, I didn’t want to simply have a drink or a meal to celebrate. I asked my doula trainer, my mentor and a doula friend to create a recognition ceremony for me, one that included stepping over a physical threshold. It was later used for other doulas in the community.

    In the Western world, we no longer have the rituals to mark the passages in a woman’s life.

    In his book Rites of Passage (first published in French in 1909), Arnold van Gennep observed that when the activities associated with such ceremonies were examined in terms of their order and content, three phases could be distinguished: separation, transition, and incorporation. If we look at this from the viewpoint of a woman giving birth, she separates herself from everyday activities as she enters labour, she transitions into a different version of herself during the birth, and she incorporates the process throughout the early postpartum period of a month or so, finally claiming her new role as a mother. Contrary to Western beliefs, this process is not completed by the birth, but about 4 to 6 weeks after birth, which is why we used to have rituals to celebrate this, known as churching, the end of confinement, or relevailles, in the Western world, up until the first half of the 20th Century, after which it started to fade.

    I wrote at length about this topic and the lack of rituals for motherhood in my first book, Why Postnatal Recovery Matters, and the same is true for other phases in women’s lives. Without rituals to witness, anchor, support and recognise the transformation, we are left somewhat at sea. We often minimise or fail to understand the change ourselves. The depth of the process, the need for support through it, has disappeared from our shared awareness, and we do not talk about it.

    Because it is not spoken about, let alone celebrated, we have no compass to navigate it. There is little recognition of what a new mother has accomplished in bringing a new person into the world, and little care, nurturing or reverence offered to her. All the attention goes to the baby instead, as if the mother did not exist. No one talks about or understands her need for support, and so many new mothers struggle not only with the lack of cultural holding, but also with blaming themselves for that struggle.

    In The Beat of Your Own Drum, I wrote that rituals play a vital role in personal growth and healing by:

    • Creating a sacred, intentional space for processing and integrating profound experiences.
    • Calming the nervous system and facilitating grounding and connection.
    • Tapping into the collective subconscious through symbolic elements and practices.
    • Providing a structured framework for processing trauma or shock.
    • Fostering a sense of community and shared understanding.

    This is why I have become so passionate about bringing rites of passage rituals back to women. In a world where women often feel isolated during significant life changes, ritual offers a way to reconnect with oneself, with one’s community, and with the sacred nature of life’s transitions. And my favourite ritual for this is closing the bones.

    What is closing the bones?

    Closing the bones is a traditional postpartum massage ritual, most widely known from its Mexican and South American roots. Similar practices exist, or have existed, across all continents, including in Europe. It is a tool for healing and for honouring the transitions in a woman’s journey.

    A closing the bones ceremony typically involves:

    • A sequence of rocking the body using scarves.
    • An abdominal massage, sometimes full-body.
    • A sequence of tightening scarves around the whole body.
    • In some traditions, a steam bath or sweat lodge.
    • Drumming and/or singing, as incorporated by some practitioners.

    (Watch this video to see what it looks like)

    The ritual supports healing on multiple levels:

    • Physical: it encourages movement in joints, muscles, tissues and fluids, aiding recovery and realignment.
    • Emotional: it provides a safe space for rest, witnessing and release, allowing feelings to be processed and honoured.
    • Spiritual: it facilitates closure, celebration and witnessing, creates space for letting go of what has been, and helps redirect energy back to the woman.

    While it is traditionally associated with postpartum care, the ritual holds significance for many transitions and rites of passage. It can be particularly supportive during times of loss and trauma, whether that is the physical loss of a pregnancy or birth, the loss of a baby, the ending of a relationship, or the invisible yet deeply felt losses that come with change. In our modern culture, where such milestones are often overlooked, the ritual offers a chance to pause, reflect and honour the depth of a transformative moment.

    Why I created Wrapped in Rhythm

    This year I have changed the way I do and teach this work, simplifying it down to the rocking and wrapping, making more room for the space holding and for the drumming.

    I did this for two reasons. The first is that I am working towards a deinstitutionalised and intuitive way of sharing this with women (read more about this [here] and [here]). The second is that so many women carry impostor syndrome and worry they can only do this work if they do it “right.” This simpler way allows their intuitive space holding and healing abilities to come through.

    In this version (see video), we rock and wrap the body with rebozo scarves, and then intuitively drum over the wrapped woman.

    Having taught it online since 2022 to over 400 students, and in person since November 2025, I have seen its effects. The case studies from my students show how deeply healing the ritual is, with self-reported wellbeing often moving from a 2 or 3 out of 10 to an 8 or 9 in a single session. One recent example came from a woman who uses the ritual to ease her partner’s neuropathic pain, which moved from a 9 out of 10 to a 2 out of 10 in twenty minutes. My own case studies show an average improvement in wellbeing of around 80 percent in one single session.

    I have felt it myself, too. Back in 2022, when my mental health was in tatters, I received the wrapping during a training with Mexican midwife Naoli Vinaver. The depth of comfort and transformation I felt from just 15 minutes of wrapping in a group setting was hard to believe.

    More recently, I asked a group of friends to give me the ritual for my birthday. We gathered in a yurt, they wrapped me, and several of them drummed. I dropped into such an altered state of consciousness from the combination of the two that I lost track of time and space in a way I had not experienced since giving birth to my children.

    Since then I have reflected on why adding the drumming makes such a difference. The drum takes the brain deeper into an altered state, and that state is itself a kind of dissolution. The wrapping and the drumming together create a melting, much like what happens inside the chrysalis. And it is this dissolution that allows us to soften, let go, and re-form into the next version of ourselves.

    Transformation by artist Jaine Rose

    Learn this with me

    Postnatal Recovery Massage training (co-taught with osteopath Teddy Brookes) A deeper dive into supporting women’s bodies through the postpartum period. Dates: Monday 13th of July 2026| Find out more and book here

    Wrapped in Rhythm (two-day in-person training) Learn the rocking, wrapping and intuitive drumming ritual, and bring it into your own work with women. Dates: 25&26 July 2026, 3&4 October 2026 and 7&8 November 2026 | Location: Abington Barn Courses, Near Cambridge, UK | Find out more and book here

    Online courses (self-directed) Learn the wrapping and drumming work in your own time, from anywhere in the world. Browse the rebozo massage and closing ritual course

    Seen Into Wholeness (work with me one to one for three-months) A personal container for women moving through transition. Find out more here.

    Have a question about any of these? I would love to hear from you. Either comment below or get in touch with me here.

  • Women, rituals, drumming, and deinstitutionalising ourselves

    Women, rituals, drumming, and deinstitutionalising ourselves

    We have been taught that learning looks like a straight line.

    Step one, step two, step three. Get it right before you move on. Follow the method. Master the technique.

    But that is not how women have ever really learned, or shared, or passed wisdom to each other.

    Our way is more like a spiral. More like a web. Like a circle. We learn through story and through body and through being in the room together. We teach each other without hierarchy. We remember things we were never formally taught.

    The idea that there is a right order, a correct technique, a linear path to mastering the drum, that is an institutionalised belief. And like so many institutionalised beliefs, it was not designed with us in mind.

    And the cost of that is real. When the system tells you there is one right way to learn and you are not following it, the conclusion you draw is not that the system is wrong, but that you are. Not ready yet. Not far enough along. Not enough. Women carry this quietly for years, doing more training, seeking more credentials, waiting for a feeling of readiness that the system is never going to give them, because the system was never built to tell women they are enough.

    So if you have ever felt like you are doing it wrong, or not ready yet, or not far enough along, I want you to consider that you might just be learning in a way the system was never built to recognise. And that the problem was never you.

    A word that changed everything

    Last weekend I was teaching a Wrapped in Rhythm course, and afterwards my dear friend Claire Graziano told me that she loved how deinstitutionalised my training was.

    I was extremely grateful for this word, because it describes exactly what I have been trying to do. When I look back, it was always how I wanted to teach.

    Eleven years ago I was teaching Closing the Bones alongside someone more experienced than me, and I was taken aback when my mentor told me she much preferred my style. When I asked why, she said: your colleague’s teaching style is “this is my box.” Yours is “this is my box, take what you need from it.”

    That has stayed with me ever since. And I have been trying to move further and further from institutionalised ways of learning ever since.

    Simplifying Closing the Bones

    I have been teaching Closing the Bones and rebozo techniques in various forms since 2014. I have trained over 1500 professionals in person and over 700 online.

    The question people keep asking is: how do I do this? They want a precise, metric-measured answer. When teaching rebozo rocking, for example, they ask: how fast, and for how long? And they expect me to give them a number.

    Except that is not how it works. Every woman is unique. The speed, the amplitude, the length of time all depend on what she needs and what she wants.

    I was delighted when I attended a rebozo training with Mexican midwife Naoli Vinaver and she was asked exactly the same question. Her answer was: you just ask the woman.

    How empowering is that? Instead of worrying about the right way to do this, which I know from experience is an incredibly common fear (and one I used to have myself), you realise you can never get it wrong. Because all you need to do is ask, and do what the woman wants.

    And this points to something I have come to believe more and more the longer I have taught.

    There is no single perfect way of learning. I have met people who had never massaged anyone in their lives and were clearly, immediately gifted. I have trained experienced therapists who struggled. And the opposite of both. What determines whether someone can offer this work well is not how many courses they have done or how precisely they follow a technique. It is something harder to measure and impossible to teach through prescription. A quality of presence. A willingness to listen to the person in front of them. An ability to trust what they already know.

    That is what I am trying to make room for.

    And there is something else I have noticed over years of teaching, and it took me a while to find the words for it.

    Most of the women who come to learn with me already know how to hold space. They have been doing it their whole lives, in their homes, in their friendships, in their work with their clients, and in the ways they support the people around them. They just do not see it in themselves. They have been so taught to look for the credential, the technique, the external validation of their readiness, that they walk past their own gifts without recognising them.

    What my way of teaching tries to do is not give them something they do not have. It is to get out of the way long enough for them to notice what was already there.

    When I hand someone a drum with no instructions and they find themselves instinctively knowing how to move it over someone’s body, adjusting without being told, that is not beginner’s luck. That is a woman finally being given permission to trust herself.

    That is what I am really teaching. Not a technique. A coming home to yourself.

    Finding my own way with the drum

    My journey with drumming followed a similar path.

    I practised and learned almost entirely by myself for the first three years, and I am so glad I did. It meant I found my own way of doing it, rather than absorbing someone else’s idea of the only right way.

    And after three years, I decided to take formal drum healing training by attending a Reiki Drum course. I gained some useful things from it, including a particular way of holding the drum to send vibrations through the body. But I found a lot of what was taught far too prescriptive.

    And something else started to bother me. Before you can learn Reiki Drum, you have to first complete two levels of Reiki. The more I sat with this, the more it bothered me. Not because Reiki isn’t valuable, but because it felt like such a linear and patriarchal way of gatekeeping knowledge. You must do this before that. You must earn the right to the next level. You are not ready yet.

    And then a few years later, when I started running a drum circle in Cambridge. I began suggesting that people drum for each other for healing, with no instructions at all. And I discovered something: they all knew what to do.

    I had already been demoing drumming during my Closing the Bones training for years, and this often led students to want to learn drumming themselves. So I started handing students a drum with no instructions other than: just drum for the person you have just wrapped.

    And again, they all knew what to do.

    This is women’s wisdom in action. Not a linear staircase with prerequisites and gatekeepers, but an immediate, embodied knowing that was already there. 

    The birth of Wrapped in Rhythm

    At the end of 2025 I facilitated a Closing the Bones wrapping and drumming workshop for 55 women at a drum convention. I lost count of how many approached me afterwards to say: this is life changing.

    A couple of weeks later, as I taught a Closing the Bones workshop, I realised it was the last time I would teach it in its current form. I felt a deep need to simplify, and to make more room for the drum, and for women’s innate wisdom.

    There are two reasons for this.

    When I teach the hands-on massage techniques, they are quite technical. I spend a lot of time correcting people, and they spend a lot of time worrying they are doing it wrong. Very few women walk away immediately feeling confident. The wrapping and the rocking, on the other hand, everyone can do immediately without difficulty.

    And the second reason is this: when I am correcting technique, I stay in my head. But when I facilitated the Drum Con workshop, I was able to drop into an altered state of consciousness, feel what was happening in the room, and respond from that place. That is the quality of presence I want to teach from, and the quality of presence I want to help others find.

    As I write this, I have taught one taster workshop and two full Wrapped in Rhythm weekend workshops. The energy in the room has been extraordinary. Women who have never touched a drum feel they can. Women who have never touched a rebozo feel they can. Women feel safe enough to add their own unique gifts to the ritual. By the end, everyone feels ready to take this back to their communities and make their own magic with it.

    That is what deinstitutionalised learning looks like. Not a staircase. Not a prerequisite. Not a moment when you are finally ready enough.

    A spiral. A web. A group of women who already know, and simply needed someone to help them remember.

    If this speaks to you, my next Wrapped in Rhythm workshop is on the 27th and 28th of June in Abington, near Cambridge. You can find out more here.