By Loads of Us Some of those who've long been part of the foundation community attended our London event in January. Here's what it meant to them. Some are writing from a very personal place, including degrees of nervousness, whilst others share their experience of a remarkable togetherliness, and how it left them feeling.
By Judith Seelig Most of us could greatly increase our capacity to receive. We can’t breathe out until we’ve first breathed in. If we attempt to give away, to service others, or validate our worth entirely through action, we’ll soon be spent. When I’m working with an individual client, we begin strengthening that capacity to receive by focusing on the in-breath and all that comes with it: oxygen, life-force, potential energy. It’s neutral. There’ s no other person involved. It’s free (though granted, quality variable). And the body naturally ensures inhalation follows exhalation. We take in, we receive, and then we give away, empty. Ready to receive again. We can choose to be more aware, to be more receptive, more thankful, and ultimately through that to feel more a part of the great flow of life: in/out, the gifting back, the receiving, circulating, growing, sharing, again receiving, and so on. We also circulate money between us. Whatever the source (savings, investments, payment for work, for skills and for time, a pension, money gifted, inherited or won) how we relate to money affects its presence in our lives. Imagine greeting your next payment - the new incoming energy supply - with tenderness. Hello, thank you, I really appreciate you would alter how you used those funds. You might cautiously, intelligently, endeavour to save, to hold some back for an unknown future, but to do so with tenderness would be to soften the perfectly natural fear of not enough. Less fearful, you’re more receptive. You’re better able to receive. Better able to fill up before spending, or giving away. Being Generous This begins with you. With being generous with yourself. With deepening the breath, slowing down, granting yourself time for absolutely nothing, even if only a handful of minutes, and fully emptying out, the better to more deeply receive. At the outset, this will be just the breath. Later, this practice will cover more aspects of being alive in human form. How we use money After we had paid for the venue for our first event in London (January 2026) we had sufficient funds to be able to offer two pay-£10-only bursaries for our A Deeper Connection event in March. We kick-started our ability to give away to those in need by personally gifting our time and resources at that first event. That’s everyone, including Judith and those of us who provided abundant refreshments. As money begins to flow into our community from individuals benefitting from what we have to share, we in turn can go out to communities and to those working towards the betterment of our shared existence and environment. Money facilitates. Tenderness gives it a gentle flow. We are not striving. We are not gobbling up energy, personally or collectively, in order to achieve. We do the work - the preparations, the logistics, the co-creating - with tenderness for each other. This continuously reminds us to be tender with ourselves. We are doing things differently in a very togetherly manner. We invite you to join us in what we already know to be a deeply rewarding experiment.
By Judith Seelig We take a subject – anything that relates to the challenges of being human, such as honesty, fear, loyalty, overwhelm, misogyny, tenderness - and share what we feel. Not what we think. We do not offer opinions, nor make generalisations. There’s no lengthy telling of personal stories. Instead, we share with each other this is what I am feeling - now - in response to what I have read, or heard. We do this via email over five or ten days, and then meet in person at the end of this cycle. Geographically, we range from Cornwall to Scotland. Those that can’t make it to a meeting join via Zoom. Physically getting together from time to time is hugely valuable. It strengthens bonds made in that arena of language where we’re writing and reading in our individual worlds. Throughout this process, Judith acts as conductor. She writes an opening email to launch the chosen topic, re-directing, guiding, re-affirming our two fundamental principles (see below), and bringing clarity and humour when the flow between us gets stuck in unhelpful, but oh so comfortingly familiar, habits. Our two fundamental principles are: - write only what you feel - write to and for every one present What are you feeling? We do this by sharing not what we think, but what we feel. And we make a distinction between feelings and emotions. Yes, we know that those words are often used interchangeably. But for this process, emotions are all about you - what’s tumbling around inside. These are often compounded by historic experiences. They are sometimes a re-run of personal history, rather than a fresh response to what moves you in this very moment. Feelings are what you experience within you right now, in response to others and to what is external to you. This can include what you feel in your body or via your senses. Feelings relate to others. For us, sharing feelings with each other has deepened relationships, and over time created a strong and nourishing mutual bond, despite our very many differences. This distinction between feelings and emotions might be hard to understand until you have some experience of the process. It does require practice, and some guidance. We will be offering this to those who are interested. Sharing more of yourself, not just an opinion, is obviously more intimate, and potentially a richer, more rewarding experience. But this requires people to feel appreciated, heard, met. Each person being careful to address absolutely everyone guards against any one individual feeling vulnerable or isolated. Since we are not offering opinion, assessment or overview, there’s no place for judgement, of ourselves or another. Yes, of course, most will at some point think along these terms, but we don’t have to express that. We might share how comparing ourselves to another has made us feel. Acknowledging how we feel, how something another person has written or said moves us, and sharing that with everyone else, contributes towards a landscape of our uniquely individual starting points. We learn from each other. We learn more of ourselves. With no platform for judgment or comparison, there’s a growing respect for, and celebration of, difference. This is entirely co-created: an intimacy, depth and richness that’s impossible to achieve without each person’s willingness to share, and to properly listen. Love There is, of course, love. We’ve found a loving, compassionate tenderness springing uninvited when anyone is undramatically truthful…not hiding, not presenting. Since life, for all of us, is messy, there is also much laughter. This is not laughing at any one of us. Rather, laughter at the absurdity of circumstance and the apparently impossibility of making changes. Time and again, we’ve found laughter to break the lock. And of course, for that shared humour (yes, we check no one is left out) to create a lovely warm sense of companionship. We might have equal voice, equal place and value, but we don’t have equal free time. Some of us are perpetually stretched parents of young children. Others are retired. Some have time-gobbling careers; others work part-time. We have found that imagining ourselves to be players in an orchestra makes sense of these differences. No instrument is required to play without end. Some have small, but essential parts. The greater the experience of sharing what we feel, the more we become aware of how much we affect each other. Staying open to this is only comfortable if we trust the intentions of another. For those of us who have been together for a long time, we’re quick to sense untrustworthiness. But this doesn’t require anyone to be certain of their instinct, their feelings or senses. It’s really clear when anyone has gone off course. They are not following our two fundamentals: write to and for everyone present what you are feeling. Slowing down Distinguishing between emotion and feeling might at first be a challenge. Slowing down, taking a few deeper, longer breaths and becoming more and more aware of physical sensations helps. Our bodies inform us, always. For many reasons, we often turn away from that information. We numb ourselves. We dial down the frequency . Yet the very willingness to feel, relaxes us. Both body and mind quieten when we practise this in any pleasantly peaceful environment. We’ll be offering the chance to practise this. People have sat in circles for ever, the better to communicate with every one present. That isn’t always in speech. Acknowledging every one’s individuality, each unique, independent self, is often the easier in silence. None of us can know how it is to live as another. But we can share intention, interest and, possibly, a purpose. We can forever learn from each other, not simply facts or knowledge, but perspective: from here it looks like this. Or, this is what I am experiencing, this is what I feel. When we are together and relatively still, each of us experiences something of what another is feeling. Because of this, we often use the image of a bowl ringing with the frequencies of one or several individuals. All of us affect each other. Each of us affects the whole. Our thoughts, feelings and emotions have consequence, even when we choose not to notice. Hence ‘frequency’. Or, in musical terms, the sound, the note, of each person. Recognising this in the company of others is in itself strangely relaxing. I have consequence adds greater depth to a sense of belonging. Being considerate towards others, considering how we might affect another in ways that we may not know, softens the need to be heard or felt according to our personal agenda. Tenderness is palpable. the catalyst Inevitably, we go off course, or ‘out of tune’. The catalyst for change, for dissolving the fixed positions, the hardening, comes through Judith, who envisioned this process. Not wanting to lead, to take charge, or to be the person everyone quietly assumes will take care of emerging challenge or difficulty, Judith participates only when we explore a topic. Learning from each other, learning to listen to others without prejudice or fear for self, and with care and compassion… this we practise without Judith. It gets tightened, mended, re-directed in her presence. As the process has evolved, people have participated, and left. We’ve learnt much from each of those. And we’ve got better at facilitating ease in a beginner. Those introductions have shown us how newcomers flourish. A sense of belonging can spring up with the speed of a weed. We most certainly haven’t arrived anywhere, but we are collectively a messy yet loving proof that you can nurture pockets of intense and sustainable wellbeing at a particularly challenging time for both people and planet.
