Something happened this week that showed me who this is really for

Hello Lovely,

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Something happened this week that I want to tell you about,

because it made everything clearer.

A local funeral director had seen my posts about the grief meditation sessions I've been running. They got in touch - asked me to write for them, and invited me along to talk to their grief group about the work.

I was over the moon. Genuinely. Someone thought what I'm doing matters enough to ask. That meant more to me than I can properly explain.

So I went.

There were around twenty people there, and they were lovely - a really close, warm little community who clearly hold each other well. I'd come to talk about the sessions. To sit in a group, and speak about grief.

Theirs, out loud. Mine, out loud.

And I realised, sitting there, that I couldn't do it.

Not because there's anything wrong with that kind of space - there isn't. For a lot of people, saying it out loud, in a room full of others who get it, is exactly what heals them. Those groups are needed and they're beautiful.

But it's not where I am right now. My own grief is still too new, too raw. I can't tidy it into words yet. I can't sit in a circle and hand it over.

And that's the moment it clicked.

The room I've built isn't for the people who are ready to talk.

It's for the people who aren't. The ones who can't find the words yet,

because what word can cover it? or attach a feeling to it, or explain why they're carrying what they're carrying.

The ones who just need somewhere to put it down for an hour

without being asked a single thing.

People like me.

Maybe people like you.

So - this is your invitation.

It's the first time I'm bringing these sessions to Cheadle,

in a beautiful new space, and I'd love for you to be there.

There's no circle. No sharing. Nobody will ask you to speak.

You walk in, you don't have to say a word, you lie down on a mat and I guide you gently through your body with breath and a bit of soft tapping.

Afterwards there's quiet time to journal, or just to be.

You don't need to have done anything like this before.

There's nothing to get right.

It's for anyone carrying something. A person. A relationship. A friendship that faded. A home. A pet. The life you thought you'd have by now. A version of yourself you can't quite find anymore. All of it counts.

Friday 14 August, 7 till 8pm. Yoga Sangha, Cheadle Village. £22.

Bring a cushion, a blanket and some water, and wear something comfy. I'll have the mats, and a journal and pen for you.

There are 20 places, and a little under half are left now.

You don't have to name it.

You don't have to share it.

You just have to arrive.

Come exactly as you are.

Reserve your place

Penelope x