Journeying

10th November 2025

Journeying

Rated 4.5 out of 5

(25 Reviews)

This year I took part in Going Solo Together – a special programme carefully crafted and skilfully held by my dear friend Cai Tomos.

A community of 15 was carefully, patiently, in many senses wordlessly, built over a year of coming together (and continuing apart). A community built through deep listening, moving, sharing, supporting - physically listening, being heard and seen.

Meeting through dancing, feeling into image, sensation, emotion, moment to moment choices, when to zoom into self, zoom out to group, how to hold a sense of both as they shift and change…

Together we created a feeling of care, of weaving and holding together a membrane of support around the group… light, flexible, malleable, imbibed with choice, but ever present. This created space for risk, experimentation, vulnerability, power. A space where each individual could let their truth, their dance, emerge through them into the world.

For me, This Gong Solo Together space was creative, dynamic, nourishing and through it I have learnt... understood so much more, not just about my dancing, my creative practice but also about my way of being in the world - beliefs I’ve carried and begun to let go of, stories I’ve told myself that I’m beginning to re-write...

This poem was composed verbally, in the car, on my journey home from our last weekend together (for now…)

Journeying

The rain pours, washing away, maybe, what isn’t needed any more
Leaving behind piles of leaves, residue
Reminders of what was there, what existed and what has gone, for now.
The rain pours and the mist sits on the mountains
Hanging out, waiting there
reminding me of what’s still being held maybe, what’s still to let go of?
And what to cherish

And the orange leaves light up the pathway home
And as they do so, they fall behind me,
they whip in front of me
Memories of things gone
Reminders of things still to come
Reminding me, that this process has no beginning and no end
A cycling of letting go, finding new... sharing, delighting
and letting go… again

And as the rain pours, it reveals a landscape
darker, deeper, richer
The tears pour and the rain pours
and it’s a reminder of the nourishment that comes with the water flowing
And the flowing and circling and cycling feed the soil, the roots...
growth

And the mist sits in the mountains,
and I'm aware that this is the last of this journey, for now.
As I pass through the mist, I emerge truer
layers of enchantments, false beliefs washing away

And that’s what’s come to me this year... true self
Not a fixed thing
An ever morphing, changing thing, something that's cherished
something to feed
something to lose and to find again

And in the rain, the white lines on the road are brighter
There's more contrast
A reminder of the wonder of the everyday
And that sometimes the water… the tears… the rain falling
brings that contrast out.
Maybe we can see more clearly?
And the rain on the path also changes the vision somehow
you think you know the way
but there's something hazy up front...
The rain bends the light and makes me question if that's where we're really headed?

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