Reflection on Scottish Gathering 2009

By George Mitchell         Listen to George

The weeks leading up to the Conference witnessed a bewildering spectrum of emotions; anticipation, apprehension, anxiety and even fear. Being neither a Counsellor nor Psychotherapist placed me, I felt, at a serious disadvantage. Research into the work of Frank Lake was beneficial, but did little to allay my misgivings about a Conference I felt increasingly ill-equipped to attend.

Each day opened and closed with a prayer meeting. The different themes and styles used were both imaginative and thought provoking, spiritual and sustaining. It occurred to me that these meetings had an important extra dimension. The morning service opened the day gradually, setting the mind spiritually that it be more receptive to the day’s work. The evening service gently soothed the emotions and restored a spiritual harmony, bringing the day to a gentle close. They effected a lovely tapering in and out of the work-day and I found them, without exception, to be beautiful and very beneficial.

Being familiar only with my own one-to-one counselling, the apprehension with which I approached my first group session was perhaps understandable. These sessions, however, were to become the most important aspect of the whole Conference. I find it difficult to describe here the emotional and spiritual bearing of these sessions. There was a sense of absolute safety and of trust, a feeling of simply being held. Here was a place I could just “be” - the empathy and compassion at times almost tangible. I can feel it now, and can only describe it thus: What was present within that room was sacred, and to experience it was one of the rarest of life’s privileges.

The break in the afternoon was very necessary, offering a space for quiet personal reflection, room for the emotions to settle, and sometimes just a few precious moments of stillness. Sometimes I walked in the town, or to the beach to watch the waves and feel the wind. Once we played - yes, we actually played like kids for a while, doing cartwheels and hand-stands.

The workshops explored some unexpected or hidden aspects of my emotional make up. These journeys, whilst not exactly mystery tours, still held in store the anticipation of the unknown. Gentle guidance brought new landscapes, or familiar ones viewed from a different perspective; some pleasant and some, well, rather more difficult. Working in pairs revealed an unexpected but very welcome and joyful trust, engendered, I feel, by the very nature and trust which defined much of the Conference itself.

The plenary sessions were fascinating. To be honest, the work expanded into spheres which were rather advanced for me, but was presented with such eloquence that even I could grasp the general outlines. It never crossed my mind that this work was beyond me, rather, I was inspired to imagine that with a little application, some of what Professor Elliot explained could be within my reach, such were his powers of communication. These were no dry, arid lectures; punctuated with filmed exemplars and small group exercises, they were in themselves a master-class on seminar presentation.

The ceilidh was hugely enjoyable and the “after – ceilidh – ceilidh”  a joy, a delightful coda to the evening; a relaxed, sometimes hilarious gathering with people willingly sharing a remarkable range of talents. Silly o’clock came and went and it was with regret I wandered off to bed. (I wasn’t quite the last to leave, but I was so very close…!)

The most beautiful of ceremonies brought the week to a gentle and a proper close. The care and sensitivity with which this occasion was graced showed a deep appreciation and understanding of where we had been and what we had experienced.

The week was quite unlike any other week I have ever experienced. All anxieties and fears had proved groundless, perceived inadequacies irrelevant and worries unfounded. I found I had something to give, something to contribute, and something to offer. I felt safe, I felt held, and I feel privileged to have been part of something so removed from the superficial, and which touched me so very deeply.