Posts tagged with "journey"

Tracing a path

The experience of working in Glen Prosen is still strongly here. Often, it comes back unexpectedly in fragments – the sound of the river, the smell of wood smoke, the feeling of a conversation, the curve of the hill above the Glen… sometimes it’s hard to remember the sequence of what happened. It can feel linear, like a journey – or timeless, like a wide open field of experience. Perhaps these two ways of remembering work together. Tracing a path through the week seems to bring more understanding of how our work progressed, and to open out wider to the whole experience.

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We arrive in the Glen on Sunday. That evening, we gather together in the tipi to share stories of the ‘city-solo’ – stories of ninety minutes spent alone, sitting still in a city centre location, with no phone, no money, iPod or book. There are experiences of insight, sadness, joy, frustration, love, surprise.

On Monday morning, we start exploring the best and worst case scenarios for our community in the face of ecological challenge. Visualising utopia and dystopia – first as a waking dream, then making images on paper. From this, we listen deeply to each other’s responses… to what we hope for and what we fear – focusing and clarifying an intent before heading out for an afternoon solo. In the evening, everyone returns and tells each other the stories of their time out alone in the land.

Tuesday morning, we set off up the hill together. The wind is wild and cold. We find places along the way to stop and tell what we have learned from researching stories of social change. Nestled among grey rocks, high above the Glen – the French Resistance, the American Civil Rights movement… Gathered around a wind blasted tree – the Suffragettes… Sheltering above the bealach – Stonewall, The French Revolution… Back in the tipi, sitting around the fire – the priests who gave their lives standing against oppression in Central America… and the misappropriation of psychology to fuel post-war consumerism.

As night falls, we prepare for an early start the next day – a dawn till noon solo.

Wednesday morning – starting out in silence, ice blue sky, sunrise sparking on fresh snow. Returning to share stories again, a familiar practice – weaving together, subtle, beautiful, strong – narratives of transformation.

The next morning, along the banks of the river, we set out to explore how change happens. Making shapes in the land from moss, earth, rushes, wood, words. Then, quietly, and with a sense of wonder, visit each other’s places along the river, to see what we have created… what we have found.

We head back to the lodge to write up the morning’s experience. Grateful for the river, and what has been made there.

Late in the afternoon, we work to create a collective model of social change – drawing together impressions from the river bank, feelings, images, research, theory and intuition. The result is a huge wall chart, full of colour, movement and dynamism.

The evening is spent discussing the next steps for the project.

Posted: March 29, 2011 | Author: Margaret Kerr | Comments: Add 

Strange Meeting

 

It seemed that out of battle I escaped.

Down some profound dull tunnel, long since scooped

Through granites which Titanic wars had groined.

 

Mood music entirely different from Knoydart journey as I crash around the house throwing things into a bag and drive at speed to Stirling station. Forgotten - blast, blast - head torch, waterproof shoes, hip flask (secret treasure of illicit still from last visit in week of de-toxing). Stirling grey, station almost shut, same bus grey this time not silver in the sun. Windows steamed, countryside flat and dull. I wonder if I’ll recognise this road I haven’t travelled for 30 years. I don’t…..until we get through Kirrie up to Dykehead.  The Jubilee Arms looks as if it has not changed a jot since 1960.

Up and onwards taking the left fork to our Glen and suddenly we see the hills and the river running through it. It’s a bit like what’s 2-dimensional suddenly adds another dimension which instantly reminds me why we are here…better already.

The Sign and the Village Hall

 

Others are here, kitchen full of beans and vegetables, tipi /tepee waiting for us across a  bridge down by the river – a river running by it, a river running through it. I remember my father going fishing in the mornings from the cottage we rented from the sheep farmers in Glen Clova - the next Glen only a couple of miles away. 

I grudge the fact that the journey here was not more pleasant. I am guilty that I have not done my urban solo homework and have not made the time to do justice to the little bit of research I needed to do. I think about the fact that despite best intentions and some time outdoors in the first week in January I am depriving myself and those I love of time and space.

 So first day in the tipi/tepee is about the urban solo – many of us found it hard or impossible to do – what does that tell me, apart from easing my guilt. Almost everyone found it a negative experience but one tells a saddening and inspiring story about the humanity he saw which was full of hope…in a consumer palace I pass through so often without stopping. Telling my short story about not doing it, and listening to what my friends have heard me tell, again gives me powerful insights from the group.

Posted: February 13, 2011 | Author: Gill Troup | Comments: Add 

Well Trodden Paths

“There is nothing like returning to a place that remains unchanged to find the ways in which you yourself have altered.”

Nelson Mandela

Meeting Jules in that Edinburgh café last July to discuss the Natural Change Project, I was intrigued to learn that the second week would be held somewhere I had visited many times.  In some ways I felt destined for that journey and in other ways I knew it may feel strange to return.

In 1990 the following entry in a holiday brochure drew my attention,

“At the heart of Glenprosen, one of the renowned ‘Glens of Angus’, lies the Balnaboth Estate on the edge of the Cairngorms National Park; 6,000 peaceful and secluded acres surrounding 16th-century Balnaboth House. In its midst, these five characterful holiday cottages each offer a unique and magical holiday retreat for couples; indeed the creator of Peter Pan himself (Sir James Barrie) was born in nearby Kirriemuir and holidayed here.

These cottages were once occupied by shepherds, gardeners or other staff of the Ogilvy family when this was a traditional Victorian sporting estate. Red squirrels play in the trees, otters frequent the burns, and deer graze all around. Because of the varied scenery, that varies from beech woods to forest, pasture to heather moor, mountain streams to river pools, the area enjoys a spectacular range of wildlife, including species largely extinct elsewhere in Britain, such as black game and ptarmigan.

Good road, rail and air access to Angus provide easy access from all parts of the UK or international destinations. Shop 9-10 miles.”

We stayed first in Braeshalloch in October 1990 and from 1996 until 2004 we stayed in the Gardener’s Bothy, The Laundry, Pitcarity and Burnmouth Cottage.  I had trodden these paths many times.

October 1990

It is twenty one years since this photograph was taken and seven years since my last visit, I know it may feel strange to go back.

Posted: February 12, 2011 | Author: Deborah Richardson-Webb | Comments: Add 

reflections

The next day was a completely different experience.  Having spent the day alone and fasting from dawn to dusk (with none of the great veggie food supplied by Rob or any carrot cake) we spent the majority of the day in the tenttipi telling our stories.  After each story anyone who wanted to could make a comment on what they had heard – “I heard a story about………”.  It was great to hear what each person thought of the stories they heard.

We’re all on a journey, everyone starting from a different place and everyone going somewhere.  Will we all end up in the same place?

The journey home – travelling back to life away from the wilderness.  Having spent the week getting to know everyone in an amazing environment, all of a sudden we are heading home to the cities, roads, hustle and bustle and people all travelling to and fro and going on their journeys to somewhere new.  What new things will we see and do and what will happen next on our journey of change?

Posted: October 19, 2010 | Author: Alastair Milloy | Comments: Add 

Stirring the Silt

At our orientation day Dave talks about life being like a pond and how we can go through life without disturbing the silt if we choose to.  Or, we can muddy the waters by stirring up the silt with a stick, which prevents it from settling on the bottom for a while.  He says the Natural Change process offers that stick – it’s an invitation.  It’s up to us what we do with the stick – we can stir gently at the top of the pond trying to disturb nothing or we can take the stick and give the silt a good old deep stir!

By way of an explanation of the emotional demands the Knoydart week may hold for me, I tell my students about the pond.  It strikes me as I offer the analogy, that the process of the CPP* degree programme asks the students to do a lot of stirring of their own and they are vaguely amused at the thought of me on my own emotional journey.

I consider my mature pond.  I think it has been well planted over the years but I also allow myself to consider that I may have a sediment or silt problem that has accumulated over time.

As I leave the building on the Friday before Knoydart, I pass a student who smiles broadly and says, ‘Bye and good luck with the stick!’

*BA Contemporary Performance Practice

Posted: | Author: Deborah Richardson-Webb | Comments: Add