Tag: reflection

the afternoon knows what the morning never suspected

I came across this line by Robert Frost quite recently on the internet (it’s all over the place) and it got me, in the way that poetry often can.

I heard a voice inside my head go Cor, in an almost Phwoar-y kind of a way (swiftly followed by a quiet, greenly-jealous voice saying I wish I’d written that). Though Frost is probably not, in fact, saying something very different from “You can’t put an old head on young shoulders”, there’s something so much more palatable for me in coming across the idea in this form; (read more…)

what country, friends, is this?

Fifty. Half a century. Five decades. Blimey. How did that happen?

And what happens now?

I imagine most people feel those things, or something similar; —or, if they don’t, I probably won’t want to have tea and cake with them. I can’t imagine what it might be like serenely to glide up to 50, untroubled and untouched, perma-sure of self and place-in-world. For that matter, I can’t imagine what it might be like serenely to glide through life at all. Yes, there are patches of glide, and stroll, and float—and even sometimes dance—but they’re punctuated with stagger, reel and flounder. And sometimes with sit-down-and-howl, too. (read more…)

events

“We read to know that we are not alone…”

I facilitate a range of courses, workshops and ongoing groups which are all designed to give people a shared time and space to think about life-stuff—like love, or loss, or change, or living happily and gently in this wondrous and complicated world. They all work in a person-centred way, which means you are welcome just as you are, and will be met with respect, empathy, interest and genuineness.

The exploration of poems, other texts, and interesting ideas is at the heart of the sessions, together with the time to reflect on your own experience. You don’t need to be an expert on anything. You definitely won’t be grilled or put on the spot, nor required to work with others on developing a means of crossing a ravine using only string, biscuits, and 14 copies of War and Peace. No special knowledge or experience is required: only your desire to take some time for yourself—to explore, ponder, and share as much or as little as you like. And, of course, to spend time with like-minded, curious, kindly people.

Some of these sessions I do on my own, some with other people.

Ongoing is a course I’m co-facilitating with Hazel Clarke:

the way we live now: understanding today, reimagining tomorrow

In prospect for 2018 are sessions on death, and all his relations: love, loss and living, and and on ageing.

Once details of times, venues, availability and costs are finalised, I’ll be publishing them here and in the linked pages. Keep checking back, or subscribe if you want to be notified when updates are added.