An Unsent Letter to Past Love

Today is the first year anniversary of the death of my daughter’s father. He’d been in my life for 28 years. We were not a good fit. It was acrimonious for over 2 decades. I hadn’t spoken to him in the 2 years prior to his death.

I’ve journalled about this relationship many times. About it’s pain, about the feelings I had not been able to access or honour, about my part in the suffering.

Recently, a thought suggested that I write an unsent letter to him. Unsent letters are powerful journalling techniques for healing relationships with people and issues that can’t be conversed with directly. They support internal shifts that further personal healing.

Mel Robbins, in her book ‘The Let Them Theory’ dedicates several well-written, expertly informed chapters on relationships. I recommend them to anyone struggling with a relationship, but be warned, the chapters focus on you – how to influence, and if necessary, make black and white decisions about your future. She continually asserts we can only control what we think, how we respond to our feelings, and what we do. We can’t control other adults, including those we love.

When you have done what you can to influence the behaviour of another adult and nothing changes, the time comes when you must decide if the behaviours of your loved one are ‘deal breakers’ – something you can live with for the rest of your life, or not. Answering the question about whether our partner’s perspective is a deal breaker or not, brushes up against our deeper, often unspoken visions we have for our lives.

An inspiring example of a conversation in which one party checks out whether their partner is on the same page regarding their future is provided. The conversation validates what the person enjoys in the relationship, their own deeper vision, and the worth of time and energy – our life.

I pondered what I would say in an unsent letter to my former partner if I wrote it from these three points. First, if I stated how much I valued his early generous showering of gifts to demonstrate his love. How I was enriched through travel to different parts of the world, of having the financial freedom to pursue business ventures, and of meeting his extended biological family, and adopted families in third world countries. To enjoy exquisite food in fine restaurants, and to invest in philanthropic projects. But also to be honest about my need for deeper companionship, a broader range of mutual friends, and a family life that involved loving children. Finally, to then speak of my ongoing investment of my life energy and time in our relationship only if I knew elements of my deeper vision for my life could be integrated into our shared life. And to accept his ‘no’ if the vision for his life was completely different to mine.

In imagining that unsent letter, I felt myself settle internally. I felt respect and compassion permeate my being – for myself and for him – 20 years after the severance that eventually came. I spoke truth in that imagined letter. Separate individual needs existed alongside shared companionship. Gaps also existed. Writing can help us to make decisions from a mind that sees it all clearly. Mel Robbins’s chapters provided truths and questions that allowed me to explore it all.

Mentally writing that letter made a difference. I may now use a quiet moment to write it more fully. Nearly a year after his death, an unsent letter allows him to ‘rest in peace’ in my heart and my heart benefits.

Learn from the learning of others. Books like the one written by Mel Robbins are a gift. But their benefits are only half reaped if we don’t work with them. ‘Let Them’ write books, then ‘Let Me’ explore how it fits with what sits in me. How does what they say apply to me? Does what sits in your own repertoire of untapped wisdom from experience resonate? Using other people’s words to explore your own untoiled inner realms brings more of you alive. Using other people’s inspiring knowledge, bring more of yourself to the page, and grow.

Let Me

Mel Robbins, in her recent book ‘The Let Them Theory’ offers a simple but powerful mechanism for reregulating discombobulated brains and redirecting our attention so that we more fully access the brain’s power, increasing awareness, self worth and agency.

In a nutshell, when you find your mind occupied by something troubling, simply say “Let Them/It/Her/Him, etc” and turn to ‘Let Me’.

When our minds are occupied by troubled thoughts, an habitual neural circuit is in play.  It is an internalised habitual ‘script’ like the ones parents use to develop habits in their children, eg. ‘clean your teeth’, ‘pick up your clothes’, and ‘wash your hands’.  Those scripts must become embedded (habitual) for behaviour to become a habit.

The process is testament to the amazing unconscious learning mechanisms of the brain. The brain doesn’t distinguish between habits we wish to develop and those we don’t (that’s the role of awareness), and nor does it distinguish between internal behaviours and external ones. For the brain, all activity occurring in its operational centre is ‘live’ data.

‘Let Them’ is a powerful script. It erases all the ‘victim’ type thinking that usually sits under our troubled thinking. It is a circuit breaker (but may require a few repeats), re-regulating a stressed brain. It creates space – which we can then use to explore ‘Let Me’.

I recently used the approach to explore a past experience that has tended to revisit. I felt the power in the words ‘Let Them’ (in this case to walk away) and, picking up pen and journal, embarked upon writing to explore what sat underneath the words ‘Let Me’.

We can’t know what the ‘Me’ part needs to take responsibility for unless we explore it. Writing or talking are the most fruitful portals for this work. Anxiety, depression, and neuroplastic symptoms created from troubled minds are indicators that we are not responding to issues in our life with agency and power. Through early learning experiences, people develop inaccurate beliefs about these human qualities. We innocently learn to think ‘untruths’ about ourselves and get stuck in spirals of angst created via these untruths sitting below consciousness but manifesting nevertheless. ‘Let them’ breaks the circuitry, calming the amygdala and opens up space for us to explore the vast repertoire of wisdom our brains have gathered and stored – also out of sight.

Use your journal to explore the ‘Let Me’ element. What emerges will be different for everyone. What emerged in my exploration revealed deeper truths about my thinking and naïve processes for encircling myself with people who nourish me deeply. It revealed ‘blunted’ thinking I had internalised about myself and how this played out. It revealed an ignorance of the wisdom I had gathered through all my earlier experiences. That wisdom had been filed away, I just hadn’t accessed it.

Experiment with journal writing into the ‘Let Me’ aspect of Mel Robbins’s theory. But don’t lash yourself if the process feels messy. It’s new. Keep trying and if you need guidance or more structure, call to make an appointment.

Story B

When teaching writing, the narrative plot revolves around the ‘want’ of the main character, the obstacles they encounter, and the solutions they attempt. At some point in the story, it becomes evident that what the character thought they wanted, wasn’t really what they wanted and a deeper unconscious want emerges. It is this that is finally resolved. ‘Story A’ is the story of the obvious want. ‘Story B’ is the story of the deeper goal. These two stories play out in real life as well as in books.

My story of recovery from a relationship marred by coercive control included several external wants or goals that over time revealed deeper ‘Story B’s’. Initially, I wanted freedom and space from the constant barrage of criticism and crazymaking. I naively assumed moving out of physical proximity would rid me of the anxiety I lived with, of the need to assert myself and of the need to learn how to navigate situations of threat. How wrong I was. Whilst physical separation provided some relief, the real need or want was of myself. I wanted me. I wanted a version of me that didn’t cringe, that could feel comfortable in her own skin, that could feel like she belonged in the world again.

Eventually, through journal writing, acting on the truth that emerged on those pages, and reflecting on my process, I found what I truly wanted. Me. A version of me I liked. A life I liked. An inner presence I didn’t know I had.

Looking back, I recognise a list of goals, the achievement of which I thought signalled ‘success’ at recovering from a situation I felt ashamed about. I thought I wanted to construct a life that didn’t resemble the one that brought me shame. I thought I wanted to reconstruct the one that resembled my life prior to the coercive control. What I really wanted was to not feel ashamed of myself. I wasn’t clear on the distinction between Story A and Story B.

Prior to the relationship, I had worked in senior management positions, operated successfully as a consultant in the health sector and provided corporate training to large organisations. During the relationship, I shrivelled under words about my stupidity and ignorance. Post the relationship’s departure, I innocently assumed that a well paid, esteemed professional job would restore my sense of worth and dignity. That was my Story A.

For over a decade that is the story I chased. That story was an illusion. The real story is Story B. The one in which I realised that external ‘markers of success’ mean nothing, that my true worth resides within and that no one can take that away from me. Through writing, reading, writing about reading, experiencing, and writing about experiences, I realised I had nothing to feel ashamed about. Being ashamed of me was misplaced. I woke up to something unique and special in me that I can honour and nurture so that it sustains me for the rest of my days – even if I end up a demented resident in aged care.

When we embark on a journey … of securing a solution we think will resolve a need or want, be prepared for the possibility that you have got it wrong. That, like a homing missile, the inner yearning or need seeks something different …. something deeper, something wiser. If you feel shame about any of the experiences you have overcome, nothing external will remedy that. In order not to feel ashamed, we need to find what we are proud of in ourselves. We need to write the heroine into being, to seek and find the gifts she carries within, of its place in the external world, and how to bring it to others.

Domestic violence, sexual abuse, incest, alcoholism are experiences that happened to us. How we navigated them and what we genuinely reclaimed so that we live with greater peace is the real story … our Story B. Recover through uncovering. Write.

The Paintbrush of our Minds – Thought

In learning how to teach young people with learning disorders how to read, I learned the importance of explaining how words work in the closest manner possible to the truth of how the human brain developed a writing system over thousands of years. It all came down to the brain’s attunement to speech sounds. Deviate from that and our writing system becomes confusing and incoherent. The same applies to our understanding of human psychological functioning.

Every theory and therapeutic modality is an attempt to put structure around what is observed. Unfortunately, some of the terms that are used take us away from the simplicity of how our psychological system operates.

All human experience and behaviour arises out of the firing of circuitry formed in the brain. There is no one location for the ‘ego’, or the ‘inner child’, or ‘parts’, or the ‘self’. Each of these constructs is simply what we observe about the types of thinking patterns that have been neurologically ‘wired in’.

Interestingly, we all have the potential to observe these neural pathways in action. However, our ability to do so varies. If that ability is blunted, neural wiring makes it so. Somewhere in our past, we have wired in a belief that paying attention to our internal reality is to be avoided – and the firing of that wiring makes it so.

When people say, ‘I don’t like conflict …’, or ‘I’m not the sort of person who ….’, what they are really saying is that this thinking that has been wired in. A more accurate use of language would be to say, ‘I am the sort of person who has some avoidant neural wiring around conflict’, or, ‘somewhere in life I learned to think ….’. The ‘I’ is doing the observing.

We all behave as if the thinking we do is truth. Most of the time it’s not. It’s just wiring. How different life can be if we hold our thinking lightly.

In recent months I have innocently taken my thinking about the meaning of being usefully employed seriously. Through writing, action, experience, and more reflective writing, a deeper thought has emerged, sculpting an inner peace not dependant on external validation. I am grounded the value of what I offer. I know the stability and energy it brings. I intuit it’s life giving value.

I don’t find the notion of an ‘inner child’ particularly useful. I know I have a raft of infantile and childhood thinking stored in the lump of jelly inside my skull. And I also know that some of it is so automatic and intrusive on my daily functioning that it needs reshaping. Not to erase it, that is impossible, but I can write to explore the internal and external context around it’s birth; read and write in the hope that an insight explodes like the birth of a star; and an even more powerful thought is established in the inner galaxy of my mind.

My brain can produce catastrophising thoughts, thoughts that separate me from reality, doubtful thoughts that destabilise me, thoughts about the danger of people, thoughts about anything. We are all an expression of thoughts and patterns of thoughts that are wired into our brains. And we are also the potential for more. The potential for something new and fresh. Liberating. Writing does that for me. Writing allows me to see my thoughts, to ask questions about their origins, their births, their instructors, and the context in which I picked them up. It also allows me to see their amazing inbuilt survival purpose and to feel compassion and admiration for the resilient heroes we all are.

Writing allows me to be awed by the emergence and source of insights and thoughts that liberate. Our unconscious is the repository of some of our most life limiting thoughts and is the source of thoughts that can craft heaven on earth. Both exist. Both sit side by side. Both are available. Write to know them. Write to capture their presence in your day. Befriend both.

Farewell to Naivety

Many people are waiting for life to settle down. At times, I fall into the same anticipation. But maybe the belief that we experience small ruptures and then life settles down is an illusion? Maybe it just keeps changing and what we haven’t accepted is the need to grow and run with life’s iterations differently. Remaining naive to that trips us up.

Engaging in a relationship with a life long partner is the beginning of a journey. It never ends. Commitment is the first experience. Many, many more follow. Careers, children, extended families, dislocation, relocation, economic circumstances all make unforeseen demands on what started out as a safe space for two people. That space comes and goes. How does a couple go back to what it was when everything has changed?

Having a child is also just the beginning. Parenting is a long learning trajectory. Health issues, neurological individuality, learning difficulties, changes that come as new areas of the brain activate through adolescence and early adulthood. All need navigating and support. Throw in the challenges of modern technology, drugs and alcohol, school dynamics, and family restructuring, parenting demands that we frequently hit the ‘refresh’ button.

And as we age, death and illness appear with increasing frequency. Colleagues and partners die unexpectedly through heart attacks. Cancer eventually makes an appearance. Parents become frail, needing intensive support to organise living arrangements and care. Chronic illnesses emerge interfering with daily activities and ease with activity outside the home. Everything changes with the appearance of these factors in our daily lives. Most notably our internal realities. Once the realisation that life is random and finite has birthed into conscious awareness, nothing shifts it. Our inner stability is shaken. For some, it is too much and life stops.

Once any of these events have entered our personal narratives, life never returns to ‘how it was’. The events catapult us from one reality to another.

How do we cope? Do we numb the discomfort with whatever means we have available? Do we grit our teeth and hope that eventually it will all settle? Or do we acknowledge this is how things are? Change, disruption, the call to be more than what we were yesterday is the one constant we can expect.

For those of us who write, or create in any form, is the knowledge that an internal space of creation is always available. Know it intimately enough and we eventually know that ‘it’ is the only constant. It is the quiet centre of the storms that swirl around us. It is the space out of which human resiliency emerges, the space in which who we are resides, the part of us that knows we can handle whatever comes our way, even if that demands ongoing small deaths of what we think ourselves to be, intertwined with unending small resurrections from within of our infinite essence.

Internal death and resurrection. Our true nature and the antithesis to a perspective that says we need ‘forever’ external stability and perfection. Stability resides within. The small deaths and small resurrections are our innate perfection. Write to reveal them.

Thick with Thought

Some days, I come home from work with a head that is ‘thick with thoughts’. Mentally congested, I am unable to digest another piece of information.

It would be easy to reach for a glass of wine to dull the senses. But at my age time is precious. I’d prefer to consciously engage with it – and I appreciate the contribution a good night’s sleep makes to the quality of my day.

I have found that just sitting on my verandah perusing the activity of my bushland garden quietens my mind. I suspect meditation would do the same. But I have found my easiest pathway to peace is through writing. When my mind is ‘thick with thoughts’ I ‘free associate’ write. I put to paper all those ‘flea hopping’ thoughts that are rattling around. Work I want to progress, back pain, IT problems, conversation comments, news items, the weather, money, friends and family. All of it. Written on the page.

And as I hop about, something happens. My mind slows and it turns. It settles on one thing to write about and a thread appears. With that thread, my body calms and life feels manageable again.

Earlier in the week a family member spoke of the ‘third shift’ in their life. In other conversations, we reflected on the simplicity and happiness of people living traditional village life. Later, as I washed my dishes (part of my second shift), the memory of households in times gone by with clear demarcation of resource generation and resource saving responsibilities came to mind. My mind tires with the continual need to move between the responsibilities of work, household upkeep, family, pets, garden, and health. Our minds are certainly processing much more than human beings living on the planet 50 years ago! No wonder we reach points where nothing more can be accommodated.

Our mental and physical health is dependant on a balance between cognitive activity (thinking to keep elements of our lives alive) and rest (letting it all go). Find your own way to build in moments of repose. And if writing appeals to you, tame those mental ‘fleas’ by anchoring them on the page and return once more to a singular slow train of thought innate to the natural flow of life. As you walk in the front door after a long day, allow writing to transition you into a calmer space. The external world doesn’t have to reside in our home.

Internal Tremors

‘Wishing you a finely tuned, in depth conversation, between your inner most self, and the universal horizon.’ These were the words theologian Sylvia Grevel wrote in response to my revelation that my working life had taken a significant turn. I did not know what lay ahead.

Shifts in alignment between my inner most self and the outer world are erupting. Significant personal and work related incidents since Christmas 2022 have caused me to pause and reflect. My questions and book purchases have also led me to the workshops and supervision provided by Monica Suswin. In one of those encounters, I realised my inner most self was not supported and I needed to respond. I heeded Monica’s warning about unshackling myself too quickly from non nurturing contexts and so I happily continued trusting that I would act when I ‘knew’ what next, and open to the ‘other’ possibility that I may be in the right place.

I spent two glorious weekends away – one with Sylvia – nourishing the inner most me. This monring, I was ready for my working week ahead, and had intended to complete casenotes; write up the draft to a journalling workshop about ‘Writing into (not for) Wellbeing’; and complete a few outstanding admin tasks. But in the background, something else stirred. I knew I had to withdraw from a commitment. Whilst there was no intention to create dissension, I somehow felt that what I was about to do would unsettle everything.

It did.

Whilst the unravelling rolled out, I listened to a webinar interview with Eric Teplitz through my membership with the International Association of Journal Writers, an organisation I recently joined to support the “Journal Writer who happens to work as a Psychologist’. Eric raised questions about whether we thought possibilities sat latent in our lives – we do not know what may surface tomorrow. I realised I hadn’t believed in the possibilities that awaited me for a very long time. Possibilities, in my mind, were exclusive to younger lives.

Eighteen years ago, I turned to my journal to explore the possibility that wisdom lived latent in the darker recesses of my being. It turned out that it was not so latent, that it had been active all my life, and that my only ‘error’ was to not recognise it. A cycle has been completed and I now embark on another one, one that exploits further the power of something invisible but operative – a conversation between my inner most being (wisdom), and the universal horizon.

Since running community markets some years ago, I have been a big believer in putting innovative ideas and thinking on the horizon. Those innovations open up possibilities for everyone. So now I offer another one, one based on not knowing, on listening, on journalling to hear, and on trusting what surfaces. I am not going to do what I may have done in the past to secure my future. I am not going to scramble and put things in place. I am going to explore the possibility that between now and end June 2023, possibilities I could never dream of exist for me. With my journal to capture the questions, to write into the questions, to reveal thoughts and ideas beyond my current ‘stock’, let’s see what unfolds.

State of Mind First

I know that educating people about the 3 ingredients that create human experience is a powerful pathway to increased feelings of wellbeing, clearer decision making and creativity/wisdom in living. However, that understanding is a radical shift in how we have learned to think about ourselves and life.

Whilst everyone has experience of what I point them to (because it is true for everyone), the way that we use thought (focus and content), gets in the way. I know the presence of the latter by its feeling – flat, fearful, low, anxious, busy, overwhelming, arrogant, angry, hesitant, timid, and more. They are created from our learned use of thought.

As sessions progress and people feel safer, their learned thinking wanes and their minds open to the understanding I bring. Safety allows thinking to calm. As it calms, we come home to a more natural state. Warm feelings, wisdom and clarity unfold and navigating life becomes way less effortful.

People generally enter sessions seeking a calmer and happier state of mind. That can’t be achieved with the thinking creating the busy and unhappy state of mind. The mind needs to slow down if insights, realisations and common sense steps are to be recognised.

I like to write in a journal. In my journal I have learned how to calm my mind and how to reap the treasures that lie within.

One journal activity I have found particularly useful to calming the mind is a strategy taken from Positive Psychology. I initially read about it here. It emerges from the observation that people tend to focus on the negatives in their day and/or create negative interpretations of the expressions of life manifesting around them.

This brief journaling technique turns our attention in the opposite direction to our learned habit. The instructions are simple. ‘Spend a few minutes at the end of the day making a list of 6 – 10 moments throughout the day that you appreciated for some reason or another.’ And when you wake up, try and remember as many as you can. After a week or so, increase the number to 12 – 20.

The purpose of the activity is not to test your memory. It is to change the habit of how you use attention and thought. In the process you will also experience the truth that your body feels what you think and that our external circumstances do not create our feelings, even when they are tough. The practice changes the wiring in your brain breaking the strength of its learned automaticity. It also has the potential to create a change in your awareness of how your experience is created. And … in the move to feeling better, you create the conditions for you to experience more of your innate intelligence, wisdom and creativity. The warmer our feelings, the closer we are to living from ‘home’ – before our conditioning.

If you are consistently feeling low, I offer this idea as something to try. But if it doesn’t appeal, then ask yourself ‘what can I do to slow down and come home’. The natural wisdom inside you, inside everyone, will guide you in your own unique way.

Image courtesy of @lucaupper Unsplash.com

(Women’s) Liberation from Within

Everyone has a voice within that is fresh, strong and free. Conditioning is the barrier to its expression. Conditioning around gender inhibits the freedom to be who we are, for both women and men. This post about how women can use writing to move beyond the conditioning they experience.

If women have been raised to believe that they don’t have the intelligence, power or place to make the big decisions required in life; to express views that run contrary to the dominant culture; or to unsettle; then they are silenced – from within. These learned unconscious beliefs form a restrictive mindset through which women’s personal thoughts are shaped and expressed. It also interferes with hearing innate wisdom in important realms of life, whether that be in regards to parenting, keeping safe, expressing creativity or developing financial independence.

Thankfully, wisdom emanating from the quieter corners of ourselves can at times be loud, loud enough to be heard, and hopefully loud enough to be followed. These ‘flag waving’ moments point to the existence of a powerful stream of thought, unpolluted from conditioning, that for most is unknown and untapped.

IMG_1109Over the years, my relationship with wisdom within has become more direct; my ability to recognise the interference of my conditioning more astute; and my courage to follow thoughts I previously discarded greater. Insights from wisdom within can come at any time, but in my experience can be cultivated through conscious journalling, whether that be to nudge my ‘mouse in a wheel’ thinking aside, to see the pervasiveness of a deeper belief in my life, or to explore new frontiers of understanding.  Below, I offer a few pointers to help women use personal writing to become more conscious of their innate uncontaminated stream of wisdom, the source of all positive change and true liberation.

Practise going deeper through writing. Practise ‘brain dumping’ the type of thinking you do all the time and ignoring its seriousness. Practise feeling for thoughts that feel heavily pregnant with newness, freshness and rightness. In personal writing that takes you deeper, you are not deliberately creating new thoughts or regurgitating those of others (although you may refer to them), you are allowing your own untapped potential to unfold. By opening up (discarding the thoughts you usually do), something new naturally surfaces. You simply have to wait, feel, listen and trust.

  1. Write when you feel troubled, something in your day ‘sticks’ with you, when you have a question, or when you have an ‘aha’ moment and see something more clearly.
  2. Write what you know – what you see, think and feel. Stay with what is real. Give voice to what you know fearlessly, with no critic, no thought police – just write your truth. You want to get into a stream of writing that feels like it gets closer and closer to the voice of you without the voices of your acquired conditioning.
  3. Accept what you have written and don’t engage with self-doubting thoughts that arise. Experiment. Leave your writing at that point and go about your day living in the acceptance of that truth.
  4. Don’t fall into justifying your truth. You don’t need to. Your truth is valid.
  5. Write about what is right for you and stay out of writing what should be or would be right for others. If you stay with writing about what is right for you, your mind will naturally go deeper into a depth of you previously unexplored. We become richer human beings through tapping this unique vein. Deviate into writing about what you think is right for others is simply a learned habit that takes you away from you.
  6. Go deeper into what feels right for you. If questions arise that relate to you, follow those threads, but again, don’t deviate into writing about others. Accept what comes.
  7. If your usual ‘mouse in the wheel’ thinking is so strong that you can’t move beyond it, then vent it on the page. This type of ‘brain dump’ can serve to ‘unblock the pipes’. But it is not where you will discover something new from within which when revealed, leaves you with a deeper sense of who you are. Like a water diviner, you want to get below the surface, locate the ‘mother lode’ that is you and tap it.

I hope these ‘pointers help. They represent what I have learned over decades of journal and personal writing enhanced through an encounter with an understanding of thought, innate wisdom and feelings of peace and presence as universal human ‘divining rods’. Slow down, go within through writing, and slowly your life will change. Probably not along the fast, consumer-driven pace of life that society espouses, but assuredly along innate unique truths that support human health, compassion and contentment.

Journal Writing

In my experience, journal writing facilitates wisdom inspired personal change if:

(a) guidance is gently provided on how to write your words freely, without censorship, and how to ‘divine’ for wisdom that sits beyond;

(b) you have an opportunity to safely speak and hear your words that have unfolded from within; and,

(c) you have a structured opportunity to hear other people’s writing and heed words and phrases that resonate with you.

Powerful journal writing groups provide a ‘held’ space in which we hear something deeper in our own words and/or in the words of others.

In a nourishing journal writing group there is the writing, and listening. Listening to the words of ourselves and others, as against the words we have going on in our heads about others and ourselves, is the ‘soil preparation’ for a rich yield. When listening well, we drop the walls of thought about ourselves and others, about our stories, and we are left with openness and possibility. Here is where we find the seeds of something new. Tend them and life changes.

LifelinesBeginning Monday 8 April 2019 I will run a 12 week journal writing group, using immersive journal writing prompts from the CD learning course ‘Lifelines: How Personal Writing Can Save Your life’ by Christina Baldwin. Each session will be conducted from 10 am to 12 noon. Cost per session: $25. Location: Bibra Lake. For enquiries and registration, please contact myself, Georgina Mavor, at 0417 949 179 or georginamavor@hotmail.com