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 Wednesday, 2 October 2019
Dear Owen, Christine and Hayley What brings me to the big room? Everything…. But specifically? Hope, fear, smallness, shame and mystery. Voices that I want to hear. And service. Always service. I write this in the early morning after a dream where I am covered in caterpillars that already look like butterflies. I go outside and carefully place these creatures onto tall plants that I know will nourish them. As the stories we live by crumble, I feel the tension between the letting go, the holding on, the wish for change and despair of what that could mean.
Monday, 8 July 2019 Dear Christine and Owen, What brings me to the big room… I don’t feel the need here to write about the small spaces in any detail… other than I suppose there were times when they may have been big spaces for me… but in time became cramped, tight, airless, bland and the restriction created sensations that might be called stress. The stress - which others may even call anxiety - is an energy repressed… an energy meeting a limit and it just keeps pushing at that boundary until enough energy is accumulated to break through. Delivered again… into space, and wonder, and possibility, and mystery, and not knowing. There is a story…  |
AuthorThese posts are written and curated by Hayley and Owen, founding members of the big room cic. Archives
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