Carrying the Thread: A Soft Tribute to Michel Odent
As I prepare for my talk this coming Thursday, Peace on Earth Begins at Birth — Honouring the Work and Legacy of Michel Odent with Ruth Ehrhardt and Clara Scropetta, alongside my friend Clara Scropetta, I am filled with tender emotion.
Read MoreThe Silent Birthkeeper – The Art of Honouring Silence in Birth
“It will take a long time to rediscover the importance of silence and to accept that the dominant quality of a midwife should be her capacity to keep her mouth shut.”— Michel Odent, The Functions of the Orgasms (2009) I laughed out loud when I re-read these words from Michel recently. It felt as though he was shouting from beyond the grave — reminding us again of the impossible simplicity of creating the optimal environment for birth. He is, of course, speaking about the basic needs of the labouring woman, and how to create the ideal conditions for oxytocin to flow freely. Silence, a key component, connects to the understanding that when in labour, stimulating a woman’s neocortex (her thinking brain) will only “wake her” from the primal mammalian state needed for the rich cocktail of hormones to flow — allowing pure physiology to unfold. “You cannot manage an involuntary process, the point is not to disturb it.” Why do I call this an impossible simplicity? Because we humans love to talk. Even if we understand in theory that birth unfolds best in silence, it is difficult in practice. Whether to ask practical questions like: “How long since your waters broke?”“When did labour start?”“How far apart are the contractions?” Or to offer words of comfort like: “You’re doing so well.”“You can do this.” Each of these requires the mother to leave her primal state and re-engage her thinking brain. An important practice of true midwifery is therefore to learn to say little to nothing in the birthing space — unless it is truly required. The Basic Needs of a Woman in Labour To feel safeTo switch off the neocortex (thinking brain)SilenceDarknessNot feeling observedWarmthLow levels of adrenaline When these needs are honoured, the result can be the foetus ejection reflex — the natural, undisturbed unfolding of birth. Michel reminds us: “From a practical perspective we are now in a position to present authentic midwifery as the art of creating the conditions for a foetus ejection reflex.” Why The Silent Birthkeeper? The Silent Birthkeeper is a one-year journey into True Midwifery. It is for those who feel the quiet calling in their bones — who know there is more to birthwork than protocols and procedures, and who long to sit at the edges of birth, holding space with reverence, humility, and trust. Over 12 months, we will walk together through presence, knowledge, and practice — exploring the basic needs, the art of listening, self-care and community care, storytelling, ceremony, and the foundations of midwifery. This is not a course, but a year-long initiation — a space to soften, listen, and remember. Join the Circle The Silent Birthkeeper runs from 5 February 2026 – 11 February 2027.Bookings are now open, with early bird pricing until the end of November. Learn more and book your place...
Read MoreBlossoms, Balance, and the Return of Spring
“Flowers are consciousness celebrating.” — Eckhart Tolle A year ago or so, I decided to tend a little corner of our garden — a patch of earth that was neither beautiful nor beloved. It gets plenty of sun, but it was a “dead spot,” the path we take to hang the laundry and fetch it again. Not a place to linger, just one to pass through. Each time I carried the washing, though, I felt it quietly calling. So I began laying down compost, shaping small beds, and waiting to see what wanted to grow there. Slowly, the ground began to answer. Now, after the winter rains, that forgotten patch is abundant — granadillas climbing, mint spreading its fragrance, strawberries rooting, and flowers opening with joy. A once-neglected place has become a celebration. Yesterday was the Spring Equinox here in the South. As the earth tips back into balance, the sun grows warmer, the birds begin their morning songs, and the blossoms announce the season’s return. It was also a special day in my family: my eldest daughter, my Spring Equinox baby, turned 21. Though she is far away in the North, I reminded her that her birthday always brings sunshine, berries, and flowers. A blessing woven into the rhythm of the season. May this Spring invite you too into renewal — tending forgotten corners, noticing what is ready to bloom, and remembering that balance always returns. A reminder for our True Midwifery Study Spiral with Vera Dubrovina this week Supporting IVF pregnancy and birth25 September 2025 @ 11am – 2pm SAST IVF pregnancy, especially after years of fertility struggles, carries profound layers — blending medical science with ancestral, energetic, and spiritual dimensions. Birth following assisted conception is not only a physical event but also a spiritual alignment, weaving past and future together. In this Study Spiral, Vera will share her observations on why assisted birth and C-sections are so common after IVF, what this reveals, and how to hold these journeys with depth, reverence, and care. Join the Study Spiral...
Read MoreWeaving Birth, Life and Death…
It is nearly two weeks since our dear Michel passed away, and the loss of this incredible human still sits heavy in my heart. The news of Michel’s passing reached me just days after I returned home from a pilgrimage to my own birth land, Switzerland — the place of my earliest years, where I had not been back since my 20th birthday, 25 years ago. I spent time in the home I lived in as a baby, with my god family, in the mountains. The places, smells, and sounds stirred long-forgotten memories — a quiet homecoming of sorts. I stood beneath the trees that were planted when I was a baby and now tower over me, holding their own stories of time passed. Visiting my eldest daughter, who is now living and working very close to where I once lived, was also profoundly connecting. Sharing a landscape familiar to us both, but for our own reasons, felt very special. While there, I had the honour of attending the birth of a beautiful little girl high up in the mountains overlooking a magical lake. Samara and I have been friends and colleagues for over a decade, but this was our first birth together. Joined by Ale, a new midwife friend, we formed a circle of elephants around this birth — weaving a silent, steady web of safety around the birthing mother and her family. Now, back home, I find myself in an integration phase — holding both the tenderness of Michel’s passing and the enormity of my journey. Here in South Africa, spring is beginning to show herself: longer, warmer days and African daisies greeting the sun each morning. I am holding my heart gently as I continue to sit with it all. The enormity of Michel’s legacy sits with me, and many ideas bubble to the surface about how I — and we — can stay true to his work. Yet I also feel the need to honour the fact that he himself is still transitioning, and that he and his family require our quiet holding and respect. Transitions must be honoured with reverence. As I shared in my previous newsletter, Michel repeated one message again and again: every mother and baby require our silence to find one another. “Do not wake the mother!” he would say. In this moment, I feel the same is true for Michel. May we offer him that silence as he crosses over. If you feel called to walk more deeply with these themes of birth, life, and transition, here are some upcoming offerings: Birth First Aid — a global, home birth–friendly learning space for birthkeepers. True Midwifery Study Spiral — with our next session on Supporting IVF Pregnancy and Birth led by Vera Dubrovine, 25 September 2025. Silent Birthkeeper (2026/2027) — add your name to the waiting list to be the first to know when bookings...
Read MoreRemembering my friend Michel…
In all honesty, I have no words to express the loss of my friend, mentor, teacher Michel Odent. At this time I feel I just want to sit in silence to honour his passing…in the same way he encouraged us to do for mother and baby as they transition. I will miss his wisdom, his humility, his endless curiosity, his ability to think outside the box, his constantly challenging us… His sense of humour… May those of us left behind remember and stay true to his work and legacy. May we continue to bring peace to Earth by healing birth on this planet. Go well Michel. Hamba Kahle….* “Hamba kahle” is an isiZulu and isiXhosa phrase meaning “Go well“. It is used as a farewell, often said to someone who is leaving, and it can also be a respectful way to say goodbye to a person who has...
Read MoreWhat Does It Mean to Be a Midwife Today?
I’ve been travelling and mostly unplugged these past weeks, but I keep dipping back into the True Midwifery online community to feel its pulse. And every time, I’m reminded how rare it is to find a space that runs on love, trust, and discernment. It’s not that we all agree. Far from it. We come from different trainings, traditions, and ways of working. But there’s a deep respect for one another’s paths — and in the birth world, that’s something precious. Lately, our upcoming Study Spiral has stirred up some big feelings for me around the topic of modern-day witch hunts. And I keep coming back to this: so often, they are about women not trusting each other. Turning on each other to feel safe, or to keep our footing in a system that doesn’t truly support us. In birth work, it’s the same old pattern — patriarchy’s favourite trick: divide and rule. The Splintering of Our Roles One way this shows up is in the way we’ve created countless “safe” titles so we can be allowed to serve mothers and babies. Birthkeeper. Doula. Traditional Birth Attendant. Once, all of these roles were simply what it meant to be a midwife — a person who stood beside the mother and baby through the threshold of birth. Now, we’ve been split and split and split again. With every division, we’re more restricted, more regulated, more over-specialised… and less able to offer the full, holistic care mothers and babies actually need. A Lesson from the Anamaboya I was reminded of this when I sat with the Anamaboya — the traditional Shona midwives in Zimbabwe. I shared with them the different titles we see nowadays, and they looked at me with quiet confusion, as if I’d just asked for a different word for love, or for water. “What do you call yourselves?” I asked. “Anamaboya,” they said simply. Midwife. Grandmother. Their qualification? Being called to the work by God. A dream.Their gift? Deep humility. Trust in birth. A willingness to learn. The knowledge that their true work is to love the mother. Who Decides? Not long ago, an empirical midwife I met offered me a definition I’ve been holding close: A midwife is a midwife when recognised as such by her community. It’s such a simple sentence, and yet it pulls at so many threads — identity, authority, recognition, belonging. For me, this is not about deciding on one definition. It’s about opening the conversation and letting the questions breathe: Who gets to decide what a midwife is?How does language include… and exclude?And how might our own divisions be keeping us from serving mothers and babies as fully as we could? I’d love to explore these questions together in our upcoming Study Spiral. With love,Ruth Join this month’s Spiral → true-midwifery1.teachable.com/p/true-midwifery-study-spirals Last Spot in the Birth First Aid Course (starting 2...
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