Tracing Spaces
Written by g and Zachi.
Originally published in Polyester Zine on 21/12/21.
‘We challenge the narrative that there are good, bad, acceptable or unacceptable abortions; People have abortions, and we support them. Whatever your reasons for having one, needing one, wanting one, all abortion experiences are unique and deserve the same level of care. Whatever your story, you are welcome here.’
Monday 1st November marked the end of the first cycle of Tracing Spaces, a temporary support group living and breathing in a temporary space. Similar to Gordon Matta Clarke’s work interventions on buildings that would soon be demolished, Tracing Spaces was a temporary space for folks who had walked the abortion journey path during the pandemic to meet and explore their experience. Visceral, commanding, sometimes all-encompassing and now, a few weeks later, just a trace.
It all started with a zoom (as with many things during the pandemic) call between us, g and Zachi. One an artist, researching abortion, the other an abortion doula; both doing what they do and drawn together through their own abortion experiences. Quickly and amongst other jobs, commitments, holidays, life events we dreamed life into this co-created, temporal support space. The group would run for 5 weeks and be open for people in the Brixton area who’d experienced one or more abortions since January 2020.
We opened the group to 10 people, 6 applied and 2 joined us for the journey. Four souls with 7 water babies between us connecting through experience, finding familiarity and comfort in each other’s stories and collectively co-creating a space to unfurl ourselves and let our narratives and emotions just be and when ready evolve.
Initially, we’d hunted down various venues for us to meet: yoga studios, youth clubs, cafés, co-working meeting spaces, but none of them felt right. Zachi was staying in a house belonging to a travelling actor and when we realised it was only going to be a handful of us suggested we meet in her temporary living room instead. The room became a portal in which we would gather on Monday evenings under the glimmering light of candles, the aroma of ylang-ylang and fresh flowers and cake because what better way to create a magical, caring space?
We weren’t sure what to expect when we started and what resulted was far from what either of us imagined, but exactly what it needed to be. Although we had a loose structure for the five weeks, we veered off course from the start, journeying through tangles of emotions, feelings and experiences together and alone.
Much of our time together was spent talking, sharing and speaking truths that were sometimes half-formed feelings in the corners of our minds and hearts just waiting to bloom as they were spoken out loud. We also did a fair bit of writing and reflecting too. It was during the writing exercises where g found herself appreciating our physical presence the most: hearing the sounds of other pens scribbling on paper, the quiet breathing and sighing, gulps of tea and crumbling of biscuits, fidgeting to get comfortable sprawled on the floor, on a chair, on the sofa whilst searching for the right words.
g’s musings.
I had a big realisation after watching the film Mizuko, a short in which the director and creator talks about the Japanese Buddhist practice that allows parents to metaphorically return their lost children (water babies) to the sea.
I always knew, deep down, that even with the creation of the group I wouldn’t be able to ‘make it [the abortion] better’ but the reality of this became more and more obvious as the weeks went by - the grieving will still be grieving, the pain will still be pain, giving space to it won’t make it all go away - and maybe that’s not the point. However, regardless of this, what is necessary is for there to be space in a setting that has no judgement in which I can sit with my pain without worrying as to whether this pain I feel is acceptable or not.
Knowing that the others have gone through a similar process all of a sudden I don't feel singular in my grief–in my experience. I have found kindred spirits who understand certain aspects of my pain and listen differently. They are not worrying about whether it will happen to them too someday, they won’t be seeing me from a distance. We see each other from the same plane.
Zachi’s musings.
How much time has to pass for experiences, memories or feelings to stop arising? I really don’t know.
I talk about abortion all the time and open spaces for people to talk about their journeys. It’s my work and my calling. For now. This was meant to be another one of these intimate, but not personal spaces, and yet Tracing Spaces became as much about giving as receiving, holding and being held and seeing and feeling seen.
When it comes to emotions, time is irrelevant and so is having ‘healing’ as a goal - despite the well known saying that ‘time is the greatest healer’. We may have closed one chapter around an experience, but it doesn’t mean a new chapter with the same experience cannot be opened however long ago it was. And this is why having spaces to lean into and move between is so important as you close one chapter and embark into the next.
Our manifesto for Tracing Spaces
This was our experience, but it is not ours to hold or gate-keep and so we invite you to create your own Tracing Space guided by your needs and the needs of your community. There are no rules, but here are some loose guidelines to get you started:
This space is not about ‘making it better’. This space is about allowing expression of grief, frustration, anger, sadness, happiness, joy, realisation, affirmation...
This space is judgement-free, a place in which we can be seen and be held.
This is a space of collective holding in which we are all facilitators and participants. It’s a shared responsibility to create and hold the space there is no distinction or hierarchy between the roles.
This is a space that isn’t centred around productivity or profit.
This space is temporary and as such, it can be helpful to have a guide or an outline to explore each time. This is the outline we used but feel free to make your own or not have one at all.
SHARE your story.
HONOUR your experience.
AFFIRM your emotions.
CELEBRATE your body.
CLOSE in community.
This is a sensual space, in which we meet in person to be present with each other and ourselves.
There is space here to honour our experiences and choices and celebrate the spirits of the water babies that passed.
This is a space of not knowing.
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Anthems
In response to the Roe v. Wade ruling in 2022, we recorded a 9-minute podcast reflecting on our own experiences.
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Are.na
Collective notes, thoughts, poems, images and further musings from our time together.
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The Temple
Created by g. This space is a gift. It’s a virtual space to hold you, freely, softly, gently.
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Mizuko Film
A short film by Kira Dane and Katelyn Rebelo, exploring Kira’s abortion and the healing Buddhist ritual Mizuko Kuyo.