Singing the Great Mother

Imagine climbing into the lap of a great mother, a soft, powerful, being who loves you through and through.  She cradles you in her arms.  She whispers to you that all is well, and in some unfathomable way, despite everything, you know this to be true. I don’t find this too hard to imagine because my mum was good at … Read More

Holding Against Extremes – Mothering and Making in a Time of Climate Emergency

Here we are, in an upstairs room at Oxford Playhouse: a circle of 20 adults, mostly women, and inside our circle are soft carpet, beanbags, babies.  On our publicity is a delicate tissue-papercut of a pangolin, an endangered mammal, whose soft centre is protected by its scaly armoured back.  ‘Fierce protection’ are the words chosen by one woman to describe her work … Read More

Imagining the Divine . . . as a Woman?

This is a tale of three  statues, and the stories chiselled into them.  It’s a personal story, and it is part of the reawakening of the power of the feminine; more hidden but no less important that the campaigns to bring equality to the workplace or the ballot box.  One hundred years after getting the vote, women still have some … Read More

Embodying the Goddess

This transformational course starts April 2018.  Just 12 places available, so do get in touch if you’d like to book!

The Day of the Dead Ceilidh

The Day of the Dead Ceilidh The music is driving, the people young and old, with painted faces swirling, laughing.  The lights are low, and candles in front of an altar flickering.  On the altar are photographs of departed loved ones, flowers, fruit, bottles of beer.  This could be Mexico.  But it’s Oxford: Wolvercote Village Hall, to be precise.  It’s … Read More

On Yurts, Grandmothers and the Net of Light

I have been sharing a little more widely my work with the Great Council of Grandmothers.  Sometimes people ask me how I came to work with them.  So, if you’re sitting comfortably, here is a story. Once upon a time, I fell in love with a yurt.  It was an orange-painted, felt-lined Mongolian yurt . . . on Ebay. When … Read More

Picking up our own Sh*t

I walked back from the school run today with a friend who is a dog-owner.  As we reached a slightly squashed dog poo, she paused and mused, “Ah. I’m not sure, but I think I’ll take responsibility for that one.”  And she duly did the deed with the plastic bag. What I want to share today is a practice that … Read More

Yin and the Art of Not Doing

I spent a lot of this early Autumn doing nothing. Lying down in bed, asleep or awake. Sitting very still in a chair in the sun. I had a disturbance of the inner ears, which made movement or concentration of any kind difficult. My doctor helpfully offered the word ‘disequilibrium’ to describe the brain confusion that resulted from any exertion. … Read More

Slow Books – Melting Islands, Arctic Bears and the State of Publishing

When I saw the play Island at the National Theatre, it made me cry.  I cried because the story was sad and true – it’s about a melting island in the arctic.  I cried because the story was beautiful, and beautifully told.  And I cried because it was written by my sister, Nicky Singer, and I was proud. It’s such an important … Read More