, , ,

An Interview with Author and Celebrant Veronika Sophia Robinson

 

An Interview with Author and Celebrant Veronika Sophia Robinson on her latest title, Under The Starflower: A Book of Blessings © 2026 [Veronika Sophia Robinson]. All rights reserved. This interview first appeared in the Starflower Press journal.

Interview by Joe McLean


Veronika, after writing over 30 books, what was the specific moment or encounter that told you Under The Starflower: A Book of Blessings needed to be born into the world now?

Almost all of my book titles or book ideas come to me in an instant. I listen to the whispers to see where they lead. This book was no different. In some ways, it was a natural marriage of two ideas. The first idea: I sometimes write short, personalised rhymes to include as closing words after the committal. The second influence was based on all the times I’ve searched for a reading or a poem for a family, and nothing was quite right. There are some truly beautiful ones available, of course, and I love being able to suggest them to the bereaved. There are also many readings I’ve heard countless times in my years as a funeral celebrant. These are the ones families see first when they do an Internet search. There are some I remember hearing when I was 19 (and that was almost 40 years ago!)

I wanted to bring something fresh and beautiful; something from my heart. You could say that the moment of deciding to offer this book of blessings for funeral celebrants and grieving hearts rested on my desire to bring ‘a softening’ to this world.



You describe this book as “Word Medicine”. What does that phrase mean to you personally when working with a grieving family?

Words can wound, as we know, and they can heal. If we consider medicine an aid to the healing path, then “word medicine” is a way of supporting those in grief; a balm, if you like. One of the things I have learned as a funeral celebrant is to let those who are grieving speak without interruption. So, my practice is to refrain from sharing relatable stories. I imagine it to be like this: they have passed me a ball to hold (their grief is the ball). My job is to hold the ball. Not talk about my experience of a ball. So the word medicine I seek, and that comes to the page when writing a funeral script, actually begins in the client meeting. They then receive this balm through my spoken voice on the day of the ceremony.

The book features beautiful illustrations by Philippa Mulvany. How did your words and her visual art come together to create a sanctuary for those reading and listening to the words?

From the first time I saw Pippa’s art, I was enchanted. I have a few pieces in my home of her black and white line drawings (which I truly treasure). I am blessed to collaborate with some wonderful artists. Although I’d never collaborated with Pippa before (and nor had she previously illustrated a book), I kept seeing her sketches in my mind as I thought about the blessings. So, I asked, and she said yes! Definitely a collaboration made in heaven. Pippa read my verses and chose which ones to illustrate (she’d have happily illustrated every page!). Rather than direct her, as such, she created images based on how the verses ‘spoke’ to her. A bonus for this book is that Pippa is also a funeral celebrant, so she was able to draw on that experience and infuse it into her art.



Why did you choose the structure of “blessings” for this text, rather than a standard guide to officiating?

Because it’s not about officiating a complete ceremony. Under The Starflower is specifically about bringing moments of deep reflection through ‘distilling the essence of a feeling, thought or topic’ into a short verse/s. As I said earlier, I was so used to seeing the same poems and readings at funerals. I wanted to offer something different for celebrants and, of course, the grieving hearts who will hear these poems.

You wrote this book from your 300-year-old cottage close to the fells of Cumbria. How did the landscape of the Eden Valley hold you while you wrote about the heavy thresholds of loss?

The landscape of the Eden Valley holds me as a writer in the same way it has held me during my own sorrows: the deaths of my pre-term children, my father’s death in a car crash, the suicide of my best friend, and, more recently, my mother’s death.


Throughout my life, Nature has always been my first comforter. My earliest life memories include dancing underneath an electrical storm in my homeland of Australia, touching leaves, climbing trees, breathing the scent of petrichor, and eating dirt! Haha. I have a deep need to connect with Nature and Mother Earth every single day: from the moment the sunlight reaches through my bedroom window in the morning (or awakening to the sound of birdsong), walking barefoot on the grass within minutes of getting out of bed, caressing the apples on my trees, plucking blueberries off the bushes, walking in the woods, resting my cheek against the cool moss on old stone walls, and more. So much more. I can see the fells (Pennines) from my writing room. They are not only the backbone of England, they’re my touchstone. I often write while out under the porch, where I get a close-up view of bees, wasps, various butterflies, birds like the bullfinch, blackbird, great spotted woodpecker, song thrush, and ever-changing cloudscape.



Your core philosophy is that no one truly knows what an individual is feeling because every relationship is entirely unique. Why is dismantling the phrase “I know how you feel” so vital for genuine healing and connection?

How can anyone ever know how we feel? Sure, we may have experienced grief. We may have experienced the death of a loved one in the same type of ending: car crash, dementia, etc., but our feelings are our own. No one else in the world has walked our life’s path, and the sum total of our experiences. They don’t have our wiring. And then, there’s the relationship we had with the person who died. That relationship is, like our feelings, experiences and wiring, ours and ours alone. For example, my experience of being mothered is going to be different to everyone else on this planet (including my seven siblings). I can’t know how someone else feels about their mother’s death. I can only know my own feelings.

For me, “I know how you feel” is right up there with other irritating expressions, such as: “I’m so sorry for your loss”. The person who died isn’t lost. They’re dead. Yes, of course there is a loss (a missing loved one) in their life. I understand that. I just think it is a cliché (an easy way out, with little thought, and not really an empathic way of connecting). Why don’t we slow down and think of another way of validating their life-changing pain?

I believe we need to dismantle the phrase of “I know how you feel” (and toss it away) because it short-circuits and completely invalidates how the mourner is feeling. The way I see it is that as soon as someone says that phrase they are putting the attention onto themselves, and their experience, rather than leaving it with the person who has just been bereaved. I appreciate that people think the phrase creates connection. I don’t believe it does.

I remember the day my mother died (on the other side of the world to me), I could barely think and function. I had to go to the supermarket that day as I was, ironically, hosting a retreat for funeral celebrants that afternoon on the topic: Creating Beautiful Bereavement Ceremonies. I bumped into someone I know (and who had been told a few days before, by my husband, that my mother was dying). When they asked how my mother was, I replied that she’d died that morning. “I know how you feel!” they said, and spent the next twenty minutes going through their old grief story with not another word to acknowledge my feelings.

Many mourners have similar experiences.

The best support we can give to the bereaved is to listen. That is, do not try to fix them (as much as we want to wave a wand!) or change the subject. Very few people know how to just ‘be’. To hold ‘the ball’. One of the kindest things you can offer to someone who is grieving is to ask them to tell you about their loved one.



You advocate for gentleness with grieving hearts. What does real, practical gentleness look like in a society that often rushes people through loss?

We live in a society that rushes through everything, so of course, culturally, we’re not going to make allowances for heart-wrenching pain. We would, however, give people time off to heal a broken leg! A grieving heart, though? Not likely.

For me, it is about being aware EVERY SINGLE DAY that anyone I may encounter could be carrying a grieving heart: the person by the till at the service station, the lady in front of me in a supermarket, the old man sitting on a park bench, the young woman avoiding eye contact as she walks down the street, call-centre woman, the person next to you on the train, the person you think is driving too slowly or hasn’t moved when the lights turned green.




Grieving hearts

are

everywhere.



When we start to see the world full of ‘the walking wounded’, our words become softer, our time becomes a gift, and our kindness is a given.

There was a time when those in mourning wore black. And, of course, many of us do at funerals (and just as many don’t, if they want a non-traditional vibe). Black is worn as an everyday item, so we don’t have the same instant visual identifier as we had in the past. There’s a lot of attention in the lead-up to the funeral and the day of the service, but then everyone else goes back to their busy lives. Suddenly, the bereaved are living in an uncharted liminal space.

Here, but not here.

Their heart has been shredded, and the world is just carrying on as if nothing’s happened. Somehow, that makes the pain even worse.

My experience of grief was that I soon learned people are fundamentally focused on self. I’ve learned, the hard way, that when I face a bereavement, the kindest thing I can do for myself is to go into isolation. This saves people from saying the usual stupid things, and means I don’t have to deal with any more upset than I’m already going through. I can count on five fingers the people who were genuinely there for me (even if not near me physically) when my mother died.

When working with the bereaved, I always check to see what support they’ve got around them. Not everyone has a strong circle of family or friendships. There may be family members around, but they are constantly trying to ‘shut down’ the chief mourner with comments like “it is what it is” or “she’s in a better place” or “we have to get on with things”. I’ve heard people, whose spouse of sixty years has died, say “I really miss her” and their next of kin replying with: “Don’t be silly Dad!” How is it silly to feel the ache of emptiness?

 



The book covers cremations, traditional and woodland burials, and interments. How does the physical setting change the texture of the words needed?

It changes everything. A chapel, no matter how beautiful, is an indoor space. It disconnects us from the outside world (unless it is beautifully designed, like the one at Roucan Loch, near Dumfries, Scotland where you’re comforted by views of the loch).

It is a legal requirement to ‘dispose’ of a body. We are disconnected from that at a crematorium. We use curtains (in some places and cases) to mark the final goodbye. Increasingly, people are shunning the shutting of a curtain.

When we are in Nature for a burial, an interment or a scattering, we can draw on the beauty of the world around us. We are also connected to the physicality of the final goodbye. This helps the brain to connect with the reality of the ending. As much as it is confronting, it enables the slow path of healing to begin.

For me, as a woman and as a celebrant, I’m most at home in Nature. Standing under a canopy of trees in Summer or frosty grass in the depths of Winter, brings a level of healing that’s easier to tap into than when you’re indoors. There are many verses in Under The Starflower which draw on Nature and anchor mourners to the setting. There are also verses suited to the crematorium.


Grief isn’t just about the immediate shock of death; it is, in your own words, “a long, quiet road”. How does Under The Starflower support a heart six months or a year after the funeral is over?

There is permission in the book for celebrants and families to publish their chosen verse within an Order of Service booklet (provided copyright and credits are included). I know that families hold onto these booklets for the rest of their lives. They are keepsakes. Those words will take them back to the day of the ceremony, and will act as a balm in the same way that my funeral scripts bring comfort years and years after the ceremony.



Relationships are rarely perfect. How can a blessing honour a loss where the relationship was complicated, strained, or painful?

Honesty is an important aspect of healing. In the blessing about an estranged child, titled, The Unbroken Thread, it acknowledges the “unsaid words and burned bridges” while declaring that it “doesn’t match the love which remains”. The reading gives permission, if you like, to release “the heavy stones we used to hold”, and claims “the tenderness which remains”.

A blessing can also remind us of the strengths or qualities of the person who has died, and this, too, may bring healing.

(Under The Starflower is available in paperback and Kindle from 25th August 2026 via Starflower Press, Amazon, Kindle, good bookshops, libraries and online retailers.)

/0 Comments/by
, ,

Walking the Path of the Ancestors: From Wismar to Modern Celebrations

As celebrants, we often talk about the invisible threads that bind us to the past. We craft ceremonies that honour transition, nature, and legacy, believing that the rituals we create help people anchor themselves to their own stories. But recently, a breakthrough in my own family-tree research revealed a thread so profound it left me breathless.

I discovered that when I step out into the fresh air to lead a modern seasonal ceremony or a baby name-giving ritual, I’m not just creating something new. I am walking a path that my own grandparents were actively paving generations ago in the maritime city of Wismar, Germany.

Uncovering a Hidden Heritage
For years, parts of my family’s 1940s history were locked behind administrative privacy walls. When the archival records finally opened, I expected a quiet list of cold dates and formal locations. Instead, I found a living, breathing worldview.

Looking at the chronological timeline of my mother’s siblings, you can actually see the moment my grandparents’ perspective shifted. Their eldest child, my Uncle Peter, was born just before the war in 1938, given a traditional, standard European name. But shortly after, my grandparents made a conscious choice to step away from the orthodox church system. In a time dominated by rigid institutional thinking, they chose a path known as deutsche Gotterkenntnis (German God-Knowledge)—a nature-centric, pantheistic philosophy that viewed the entire universe, the soil, the trees, and the stars as a single, interconnected divine force.



When my mother arrived next in May 1939, they chose a name that perfectly captured this new alignment: Dagmar, which beautifully translates to “Joy of the Land”. They didn’t look for meaning inside stone cathedrals anymore; they looked for it in the earth beneath their feet.

The Ceremonies of the Earth
Reading through their history felt like looking into a spiritual mirror. Because they had stepped away from traditional religious structures, they completely bypassed orthodox baptisms and conventional holidays. Instead, they celebrated life using the exact same archetypes that call to me today:
• The Solar Festivals: They gathered under the open skies of northern Germany to mark the turning points of the Earth—the wild bonfires of the Summer Solstice and the quiet, evergreen introspection of the Winter Solstice.
• The Name-Givings: When their children were born, they held outdoor Namensweihe (Name-Giving Ceremonies), presenting their babies to the community and the natural elements, pledging to raise them in harmony with natural laws.
Even the names of the babies who followed my mother—like Helga (“holy and in harmony with the divine”), Volkmar, Rainer-Gerwin, and Ute Bärbel—were deeply deliberate, rooted in ancient regional heritage and the protective strength of the natural world.

 

Officiating Douglas and Pamela’s Handfasting Ceremony on the Summer Solstice at the Callanish Stones, Isle of Lewis, Outer Hebrides.



A Sacred Echo
History is complex, and the eras our ancestors lived through were heavy and turbulent. Yet, when you strip away the fleeting politics of the mid-20th century, the core human desire my grandparents held remains pure: a longing to align the human soul with the cosmic rhythm of the Earth.

Discovering this backstory has completely transformed how I view my own naturally Pagan views and my work as a celebrant. It’s a reminder that our passions are rarely accidental. The love I have for the Earth, the reverence I feel for the Solstices, and the joy I find in welcoming a new child to the world without rigid dogma—these are not just my choices or calling. They’re a sacred echo.

To anyone researching their roots, I encourage you to look beyond the numbers. Look at the choices they made, the names they gave, and the beliefs they held close. You might just find that the path you are walking today was cleared for you generations ago.


Veronika Sophia Robinson
Author, Novelist, & Weaver of Word Medicine
🤍 🤍 🤍
You are warmly invited to step further into my literary sanctuary. Explore the complete collection of fiction and non-fiction books at Starflower Press, or discover the living map of your soul with a personal astrology reading at The Oracle. My celebrant training and celebrant masterclasses can be found at Heart-led Celebrants.

 

/0 Comments/by
, , , ,

Would you love to train with me to be a wedding celebrant?

Celebrant Training: Weddings and Namings


When: Friday 7th August to Sunday 9th August 9am to 5pm
(includes refreshment breaks)

Where: In our Zoom room classroom


Tutors: Veronika and Paul Robinson

Fee: £1550

(may be paid in two instalments, with balance due no later than one month before training)


Learn from the comfort of your own home, with live online training by expert tutors. Your tutor, Veronika Robinson, has more than thirty years of experience as a wedding celebrant (internationally) and will guide you, step by step, to becoming the best celebrant you can be. Co-tutor, Paul Robinson, will work with you on vocal and presentation communication.

Book now, if you’d like to be part of our next group training via Zoom. We keep our classes small for optimal learning.

This training will certify you to officiate all types of bonding ceremonies, such as alternative, contemporary and traditional weddings, Pagan handfasting ceremonies, micro-weddings and vow renewals, as well as baby blessings and naming ceremonies for all ages.

Emily and Ben’s handtying ritual in their woodland ceremony

Outdoor wedding ceremony



After the initial training on Zoom, you will have twelve weeks of portfolio work to create on the path to certification, as well as at least five sessions of one-to-one vocal coaching. You’ll be free to join our monthly CPD sessions, too.


Tuition in celebrancy with Veronika Robinson

Detailed tutor feedback on your weekly practical portfolios
One-to-one voice and presentation coaching with Paul Robinson
Detailed notes, specific to your vocal and presentation style, after each voice coaching session
Heart-led Ceremonies (book)
Guardians of the Threshold Study Guide
Workbook
Comprehensive library of training materials
1 year of back issues of The Celebrant magazine
FREE listing on the exclusive Heart-led Celebrants Directory
Monthly group CPD (various aspects of celebrancy)
Ongoing support and script appraisal



Weddings, Pagan Handfastings and Vow Renewals
Create beautiful bespoke wedding and vow renewal ceremonies
Learn the difference between handfasting ceremonies and handtying rituals
Understand the legalities of marriage law in your country
Create ceremonies ranging from traditional to alternative, religious to spiritual to humanist, to mixed faith
Write fabulous love stories!
Learn the essential elements and structure of bonding ceremonies
Narrate and choreograph beautiful bonding rituals including bespoke
Relationships with other wedding suppliers, such as wedding planners and photographers
Information-gathering techniques

Naming Ceremonies
Create, write and officiate bespoke naming ceremonies for babies, children, adults, and transgender people who wish to have their new identity formally honoured

Officiate in beautiful venues


During your training, you will learn:

How to officiate indoor and outdoor ceremonies
Create sacred space no matter what environment you’re in
The value of intention setting
Script Writing
Rituals: narrative and choreography
Presencing
Working with the Six Elements, such as Calling in the Directions
Celebrant Well-being
Understanding the role of the Community Celebrant
Voice development and coaching
The use of amplification in ceremony
Learning to be of service
The responsibilities of being a celebrant
Building your celebrant business
Establishing your celebrant business in the community
Marketing (metaphysical and mainstream)
How to be self-employed
Carrying out Health and Safety Assessments for Ceremonies
Defining what is your responsibility and what is that of your client/venue
What you’ll need for creating a website to showcase your business

For fees and further information, visit www.heartledcelebrants.com

/0 Comments/by
, ,

Festival of the Wise Grandmother And Samhain

At this time of the year, shops are filled with fake spider webs, witches’ costumes, cauldrons, rubber frogs and an assortment of ghoulish items from jelly eyeballs to skeletons, and the ever-essential candy. For many children, Halloween is associated with knocking on the doors of strangers and receiving sugary sweets. This ancient festival has become known as a time to ignite people’s fears about the Underworld.

 

 

Halloween, however, was traditionally a festival which honoured the wise grandmother, otherwise known as The Crone. The Goddess is honoured by her three aspects: maiden, mother, grandmother. At Samhain (All Hallow’s Eve) it is the Grandmother (Crone) who takes centre stage as she asks that we use this time to look back over the year and go inwards to learn what will make us a better person in the coming year. It is a time of reflection, transformation and renewal. As Samhain, Festival of the Wise Grandmother, befits the season of Autumn, it is a time to let go and release anything that does not serve us.

 

 

An altar for my ancestors

 

What was beautiful and symbolic of the great feminine, such as the Crone’s cauldron representing the womb of the Great Goddess, has been bastardised into ‘evil witches on broomsticks casting dangerous spells’. In Britain, the tradition of children trick or treating originated with asking for donations to help the poor. In Celtic tradition, Hallow’s Eve (renamed as Halloween by the Christian Church) is the time which signifies the end of Summer (Samhain; pronounced sow en). For Celts, this is the beginning of the New Year.

 

The Saxons called it Winter’s Eve. The ancestors were honoured at this time of year, and it was believed by many cultures that the ‘veil’ between this world and the next was thinnest and therefore an ideal time for communication between the living and the dead. This is certainly my experience.

 

How can we teach our children to celebrate this tradition in a way which is symbolically rich and meaningful beyond the commercialisation of modern-day Halloween? There are many ways, such as making a special meal and serving a plate for the unseen guests.

 

It could be gathering unneeded items from the home, such as outgrown clothes, food staples and toys, and giving them to charity (the cycle of Scorpio is a perfect time for letting go).

Making a small altar with photos of your ancestors, and lighting a candle, allows you to create a focal piece in your home. In our family, rather than carve scary faces into pumpkins, we have traditionally cut love hearts so that the light of love shines from our windows. I taught my children, when they were young, the origins of the carved pumpkin: Irish immigrants used turnips, and introduced this idea in the USA in the 18th century.

 

The Law of Attraction is clear: we become what we focus on. Do we teach our children about fear and negative energies, or do we demonstrate love, and that death is a doorway to another world; and that there is nothing to be frightened of? We can educate our children (and friends) about the history of Halloween, and how it began more than 2,000 years ago as a way of honouring the Crone as well as the end of the harvest season. Her archetype, after all, is that of: you shall reap what you sow. She asks us, our wise grandmother, to take responsibility for our actions.

A Samhain Altar

There are countless ways to celebrate Samhain in your home. Beginning with a simple altar is a great way to start. Use colours and symbols of the harvest season, such as orange and black. Those of us who celebrate earth-based spirituality use black because it represents the cape of the Wise Crone, and the waning Moon. It is symbolic of the dark Earth―the underworld; a type of womb―in which seeds will gestate during the long dark Winter.

We make full use of harvest foods and plants, such as apples, acorns, rosehips, pumpkins, corn, pomegranates and marigolds. On the altar you may find beeswax candles, a cauldron, and Autumn leaves. Mugs may be filled with apple cider or warm honey mead.

On your altar, you can add photos or heirlooms of your ancestors, and invite them to meet you at the veil. Of course, in some homes the ancestor altar is on display all year round.

Sharing the Feast

When creating your Samhain feast, include a place for your ancestors and ancestresses. Just a spoon of food and a mouthful of beverage will suffice. It’s symbolic. Some families leave a bowl of porridge or soup by the hearth, or a candle in the window, while others place an empty chair by the woodstove. These acts are said to guide ‘hungry ghosts’ to comfort, and that humans will be blessed by their interactions with these wandering spirits. This is the perfect opportunity to teach your children about their family tree and ancestral history. If you have letters, photos or books from your ancestors, share them and talk about what they mean to your family. If you don’t have any items, you can write the names of ancestors on paper to place on your altar. To contact your ancestresses and ancestors, close your eyes and be mindful of your breathing. Use this time to ask yourself: who am I?

We are a collection of cells passed down from many, many people in the family line. We have their strengths, their weakness, and we house their failures and their dreams. The Festival of the Wise Grandmother is a time to honour the past and the present, and to consider what we are creating in our future.

 

I am the daughter of Angelika and Albertus,

granddaughter of Minna-Marie and Dieter, and Liselotte and Erwin.

 

I come from a long line of people who lived in the cold of Northern Europe: Vikings, shipbuilders, seafarers, mothers, craftsmen and musicians. I come from men and women whose names I do not know, but I do know they were: strong, pioneering, loving, creative, and held family as sacred.

Keep speaking aloud, telling your family story. If there are tales you know, verbalise them. You can ask the ancient ones to guide you on your life’s journey, and to protect you and your loved ones. If you feel you’re carrying family wounds, ask to be freed from them. If you wish to be instrumental in healing wounded archetypes in your lineage, then ask how you can experience and release these stories so that you and your descendants may find and write their own script.

Not everyone in our lineage is someone we wish to be connected to, but with love and forgiveness we can move forward, and in doing so, we free the energy of that person, too.

Use this time to think about your life, and what transformations you’ve undergone. You might choose to meditate, use runes, or practise divination with tarot cards. Perhaps you’ll write down your dreams, or take a solitary walk in the woods and listen to the night owl beneath moonlight.

 

 

A phoenix ceremony goes hand in hand with any celebration of Samhain. Review, release and let go. That is the message from the Wise Grandmother. If you have a patio or garden where you can create an open fire (even in a cauldron or small contained pit), use this to write down old habits or negative things you wish to release from your life to release.

Be clear: Samhain and Halloween are not meant to be negative, fear-inducing or about black magic, but quite the opposite. Perhaps those who were instrumental in changing its pure meaning were afraid of the empowerment and the strength of women?

Do feel free to share your positive Samhain and Halloween experiences. Perhaps you could invite friends to take a mindful walk in woodlands near your home. You could make a journey stick, collecting seasonal items from Nature when out walking, to share the story of where you’ve been.

Costumes are a popular part of the modern- day Halloween. According to Samhain tradition, to wear a costume or mask during this time would help to distract wandering spirits from calling you to the Otherworld before your allotted time. Tradition also suggests that it was a way of absorbing the strength of the creature you were imitating. It was common, too, to make noise using hands or drums to interrupt daily human noise. This created a portal to the Otherworld which enabled spirits to make contact and whisper messages to the living.

As a family, you could visit the local cemetery (even if you have no loved ones there), and leave an offering, such as water, herbs, flowers, seeds, bulbs or gemstones.

With your family, you can offer a prayer of gratitude:

 

Thank you dear Earth

for all that you have given us so bountifully this season.

We open our arms to the Sacred Darkness.

 

Take your spicy mead or cider, and make libations to Mother Earth, as symbolic of the Wise Grandmother.

We have gathered the harvest,

and Winter is coming.

We give thanks.

 

If you have a Goddess symbol of the Wise Grandmother, place it on your altar. You might like to make ink art or create dreamcatchers as part of your Halloween celebrations.

At the heart of any ritual and celebration which honours the Earth and her seasons is the use of fire as a symbol. Samhain and Halloween are no different. Fire reminds us that we’re in need of light and warmth. It invites introspection as we draw nearer to the flame.

Make a Samhain wreath using grain stalks, nuts, apples, leaves, conkers and rosehips, and place it on your front door.

 

Ensure your garden is tidy before All Hallow’s Eve so that it may rest peacefully for the Winter.

Honour the darkness by lighting candles, or celebrating with a bonfire. The light of fire is enhanced by the sheer darkness of night. The light reminds us that there is life in the Underworld.

Press flowers in old books.

Plant bulbs. As you bury them in the dark, moist and fertile womb of Mother Earth, offer a prayer to the Goddess of the Underground. Write your wishes on paper, and bury them with the bulbs.

Harvest your produce, and store well.

If you are celebrating Samhain with friends, hold hands and stand in a circle around your bonfire. Invite the ancestresses to be with you. Feel the power as each of you verbalises your connections to the Otherworld.

Wear black during Samhain to celebrate the season and all it represents.

Make spirals or hearts from seeds and nuts.

Sit outside at twilight and listen for the voices of your ancestresses in the wind.

Take a solitary walk at night time to feel the sense of the season.

Practise ecological awareness, and give back to Earth rather than using products made from crude oils or ancient sunlight.

  

Veronika Robinson comes from a long line of white witches (the ones they were never able to burn). She is a ceremonialist, author, celebrant trainer,  and second-generation astrologer who is happiest walking in the woods or tucked up by the woodstove.

If the thinning of the veil inspires you to have a reading with her, such as an Astrology or Angelik Reading, visit here.

 

 

/0 Comments/by
, , , ,

View from the porch

In certain parts of the world, having a porch or verandah was integral to the home. Over time, with new builds, these are often omitted. I’ve been reflecting a lot about this in light of the many benefits which come from having an outside extension and living space to the home. In my homeland of Australia, a Queenslander (type of home) always had a verandah, and often wrapped around three sides. It connected one to the outside world while providing some shelter from the weather. A porch or verandah was a meeting place for friends and family. A gathering place of community and connection.


For almost 26 years now, I’ve made my home in rural Cumbria in the north of England. Our home has a porch. It’s an outdoor area with a roof that allows us to be outside and, if necessary, have cover during rain.


And it is to the porch I come for many reasons: morning cuppa, quiet time in my day, meditation, a chat with husband, lunch with friends, to cook damper over the firepit with loved ones, watch the birds at the bird-feeding station, to breathe in the calm of the night-time stars and Moon before I head to bed, and I come here to write ceremonies and books. Although I have a lovely writing room, I’ve found that sitting out here at my table gives me a view that, even though it’s the same as from my writing room, feels more connected. In many ways, this space has become my psychic sound chamber: where I consider, digest and live with my many thoughts and feelings on all manner of things.


There are two views from the porch; the view I can see before me, and the inner vision that evolves from these daily pockets of porch time.

Last Christmas, I decided to treat myself to a week’s hire of a hot tub. Warmth, particularly warm or hot water, is my idea of bliss. Christmas week is a full one: our celebration of Christmas on Christmas Eve as per my German ancestors; my birthday on the 28th, our wedding anniversary on the 29th. I figured being able to soak for a few hours each day would help me unwind from a busy work year. What I learned, by sitting outside in the middle of an ice-cold Winter, was that even though it’s a time I’d traditionally hibernate, the world outside couldn’t have been more alive. I’d be up long before sunrise delighted to step into that warmth and relax. Beneath starlight, I enjoyed watching the skyline change from ink-black to blue. At other times, I soaked in the warmth while a thunderstorm raged around me. I was in that tub at least twice a day, and for a good couple of hours each time. The changing colours of the sky, the dance of clouds, watching the flight of birds, and so on, were beautiful reminders that nothing stays still. Life is always changing.



What I’ve learned from porch life is that no matter how crazy-busy my work days get, or if I’m working seven days a week from before sunrise right through to deep into the night, stepping out onto the porch transforms me. In some ways, it’s become a healthy addiction. This view is what allows me to keep going.

Being connected to the natural world in this way is the equivalent someone else might feel when they see a regular counsellor. Are you ok? What’s been happening? Want to talk about it? How do you feel about that?

 

Veronika Robinson is an author, publisher, celebrant, celebrant trainer and mentor, and retreat host in rural Cumbria. 

/1 Comment/by

The Confidential Celebrant in Cumbria

In celebrant life, it’s such a joy to share photos from our ceremonies whether it’s of wedding couples, the venue, décor, cake, floristry, landscape/seascape or with other ceremonies, such as words of reflection about a moving funeral.

 



What isn’t talked about so much, or shared, in modern celebrancy is the role of confidentiality. All my ceremony contracts have an opt-in section for those couples who are happy for me to share photos of their ceremony. This goes way beyond any GDPR requirements, which are hopefully a given, but about respecting that not every person we work with is comfortable about being used to document our working life.

More often than not, though, there are couples who, for whatever reason, do not want any aspect/mention of their day broadcast: their names, images, venue and so on. Whether this request is because of their professional or celebrity status or because they don’t want their images on the internet, this is their right: it’s their ceremony, their identity, their life.

 



As a funeral celebrant, although I readily share snippets from my working life about which venue I’ve worked at or the life someone lived, names are kept out of my social media posts. I don’t share cover photos of the Order of Service, either. I also feel strongly about not sharing information about child funerals (with or without names).

In a social culture which shares ‘everything’ it can seem, for a celebrant, like their hands are tied if they can’t post about every single ceremony. Celebrancy is not a sport. We’re not in competition with each other about who has the most ceremonies, or who has the most high-profile clients, and so on. Although there are celebrants who won’t take on couples if they can’t share photos of their ceremony, I’m not one of them. Maybe it’s my age (I’m no spring chicken), or because I’ve been a celebrant since the mid 1990s long before social media ruled our lives, but I’m not motivated by bragging rights.

 



I absolutely LOVE it when couples generously share their wedding album with me and give me free reign to use any of the pics on my website or socials, and am grateful for this. Of course I am. It is a joy to share these.

 



I’ve never been the sort of celebrant who insists on taking a selfie with each couple to post on social media. If you want one with me, then of course I’ll join you. It would be my pleasure.

AND

I am also a confidential celebrant. So if you don’t want mention of your names, day, dress, décor, venue and so on shared, that’s absolutely fine, too. Many of my couples requests this.

When celebrants say “Your day your way” that should mean iron-clad confidentiality, too.

 

 

 

 

Darryl and Greg at Three Hills Barn. Celebrant: Veronika Robinson



Veronika Robinson is a confidential Heart-led Celebrant in Cumbria. She has had the immense pleasure of creating beautiful weddings since 1995, and still has a skip in her step each time she heads off to officiate a ceremony. Although her practice is based in Cumbria, she officiates from Cornwall to Callanish, and everywhere in between, as well as internationally. Veronika is an inclusive celebrant and practises discrimination-free celebrancy. Her officiating style is relaxed, authentic, friendly, warm, gentle, caring, and with natural humour. She creates ceremonies across all rites of passage, whether religious, spiritual, agnostic or atheist.

Veronika and her husband Paul are co-tutors at Heart-led Celebrants Celebrant Training in Cumbria.

/0 Comments/by

What Does a Celebrant’s Fee Include

Each celebrant sets their own fee based on either undercutting other celebrants (a busy celebrant does not mean a good celebrant), staying midrange and in line with many of those in their area, or at the high end to attract wealthy clients.

My fee isn’t based on what other celebrants charge or on a client’s budget. And nor is it based on an hourly rate.

What it is based on is what I bring to the table:
* 28 years as a working celebrant with experience across all rites of passage
* Masters Degree in Creative Writing
* Industry Expert
* Empathy, care, kindness, compassion
* Highly developed skillset
* Organisational skills
* Travel time
* Creating and developing script ideas
* Research
* Writing
* Interviews/meetings
* Rehearsing the script
* Rehearsal day (for weddings)
* Officiating on the day

 



I’m an accomplished, competent and confident public speaker who is praised for her diction, gentle and humorous manner. Due to my vast amount of experience, it means that my clients are in safe hands. I’m never going to let them down. How can you put a price on that?

I could charge half the price I do for a wedding (and do 2 to 3 weddings a day) but my goal, my ONLY goal, is to deliver weddings of quality. My commitment to each wedding couple is that I only do one ceremony a day. That means my focus is 100% on them. 

Veronika Robinson is a Heart-led Celebrant in Cumbria. She has had the immense pleasure of creating beautiful weddings since 1995, and still has a skip in her step each time she heads off to officiate a ceremony. Although her practice is based in Cumbria, she officiates from Cornwall to Callanish, and everywhere in between, as well as internationally. Veronika is an inclusive celebrant and practises discrimination-free celebrancy. Her officiating style is relaxed, authentic, friendly, warm, gentle, caring, and with natural humour.

/0 Comments/by

Discrimination-free Celebrancy

An essential part of my role as a celebrant is having an openness and open heart towards all human beings, and practising non-duality. As a Heart-led Celebrant I am inclusive in my work. What does this mean?

 

I practise discrimination-free celebrancy. This means that I will not discriminate (or associate with those who discriminate) against you on the grounds of religion or other beliefs, disability, mental health, body shape or size, health narrative, socio-economic status, race, culture, gender, gender reassignment, age, marital or parental status.

I honour the right of each human being to celebrate their life. You have my assurance that I will accord you the respect you deserve.


Veronika Robinson is a Heart-led Celebrant in Cumbria, England, and has been practising as a celebrant since 1995, officiating internationally across all rites of passage. She’s also a celebrant trainer and prolific author.











Tags: celebrant training, discrimination-free celebrancy, non-duality
Share this entry

/0 Comments/by
, , ,

The Human Touch: why AI won’t be part of my work as a celebrant and author


The world is changing. There’s no question of that. I’ve long held the belief that to live and thrive in this world it’s not so much ‘survival of the fittest’ but ‘survival of those who can adapt’. And this has always served me well both in terms of being a risk taker and rolling with life’s pulls and punches. It’s a kind of shape shifting that allows me to bend, like a willow, and make my way in the world no matter what. Increasingly, though, there’s an aspect to this world, and specifically how it impacts my work as a celebrant, celebrant trainer and author, where I have been questioning just how much I adapt to those changes. Am I just an old ‘fuddy duddy’ now I’m almost 56? Am I behind the times? Is it time to hang up my celebrant hat? I’m referring to the widespread use of Artificial Intelligence (AI).

 



Bit by bit I’ve watched changes in the celebrant world, for example: celebrants using Kindle or some other technology to read their script from during a ceremony or various apps and programmes to store their client information. The latest intrusions into this world include celebrants outsourcing their scripts to other celebrants/writers and also the use of AI to write their scripts.

 



Here’s where I stand: I will never use a technological device from which to read my script. Apart from the aesthetics (my main aversion), there is also the risk of the device not performing on the day (for all manner of reasons). I also use good old-fashioned diaries and calendar to keep track of my dates (no risk of technological failure/theft), and use my funeral and wedding planners for essential details. I’m not suggesting it’s wrong for a celebrant to use a Kindle or to use an app like 17 Hats. I’m simply saying that it’s not my way. In the same way that I feel holding an A4 folder looks clunky compared to a smaller A5 one.

 



When it comes to outsourcing the writing of scripts to AI or other celebrants, I feel ill at the thought. (Ditto the number of professional authors now using AI to write books so they can publish more often.) What happened to heart? What about the joy of creativity? Surely this is what we want to bring to this work?

 


If someone employs me to be their celebrant, then they are choosing ME to create and dream and write their ceremony into being through my experience, imagination, creativity, wisdom, intuition, awareness and so on. AI CAN NOT DO THIS.

When someone buys one of the books I’ve written, they are buying non-fiction books based on my experience, skills and wisdom, or fiction books based on my imagination and creativity. AI CAN NOT DO THIS for me.

Are we, as humans, becoming so far removed from what it is to be human that we think and feel it’s ok, indeed preferable, to rely on technology rather than heart and the creative fire?

And if we’re going to outsource to another human then for reasons of ethics, integrity and data protection this needs to be clearly stated at the outset on one’s website and in all communications. The buyer of your services needs to know that they’re NOT getting your services! Outsourcing the writing of scripts has become prevalent in this industry. 

 



The celebrant industry (and make no mistake, it has become an industry whereby some celebrant trainers and celebrants have completely forgotten or never knew or understood the true purpose of ceremony and the place of a celebrant) is changing rapidly, for better and for worse, in ways that would have seemed incomprehensible to me when I started on this path in 1995. I’ve had so many moments in the past few years of not wanting to be part of this changing ‘industry’. It’s so far out of alignment with my approach to celebrancy that, despite my view and ability to ‘adapt’ to changes, I’ve contemplated walking away many times. And yet, I’m still here. I remain, for now. Why? I’m here for those people who understand (even if they can’t articulate it) ceremony to be a liminal place in time whereby the celebrant holds the space for those crossing the threshold (regardless of the rite of passage). I don’t, and never will, see rituals (such as handtying) as some sort of parlour game or joke or that it’s acceptable for people to arrive at a ceremony half drunk.

I can hand on heart say I will never outsource my work to AI or another celebrant. My sense of reverence for ceremony and the rituals within it don’t mean that I’m devoid of humour or can’t create a bespoke ceremony for a fun-loving couple or family wishing a joyous celebration of life. Far from it. What it does mean is that I understand the purpose of ceremony, and at each step of the way bring my whole heart, creativity, reverence, integrity and care.

 

 



To be clear: I’m not against technology. I’m writing on a laptop. I am grateful that I have a car and that a washing machine cleans my clothes rather than me standing all day long scrubbing them and wringing the water out of each item. These things all have a place in this world. I’m not against change or advancement. Ceremonies and storytelling, though? Let’s keep the heart there. In this rapidly changing world, we need it more than ever. Let us not lose touch with compassion, empathy, kindness, humour, wisdom, awareness of body language, curiosity and creativity, and dare I say: our innate sense of spirituality.

The day I don’t bring the human touch to my work as a celebrant, celebrant trainer and author is the day I step away.

 



Veronika Robinson has been a celebrant since 1995, officiating across all rites of passage, and is the co-owner and co-tutor at Heart-led Ceremonies Celebrant Training in Cumbria. It brings her great joy to, alongside her husband Paul, teach others the sacred art of creating ceremonies from the heart.

She’s the author of over 30 books including the popular books for celebrants: Write That Eulogy; The Successful Celebrant; Wedding Celebrant Ceremony Planner; Funeral Celebrant Ceremony Planner; and coming soon: Funerals for Children; and Discrimination-free Celebrancy. On a daily basis, she is connected to the natural world and draws her inspiration from there.

/0 Comments/by

Write That Eulogy

Write That Eulogy: the art and craft of biographical storytelling

ISBN 978-1-7398336-6-4

©  Veronika Sophia Robinson

©  Extract from Changing Places by Paul Robinson

©  Cover illustration by Sarah Esau

 

Cover design, interior design and typesetting: Starflower Press

 

Literary Criticism

UK £12.99

Published by Starflower Press

www.starflowerpress.com

170 pages

 

 

“It is written in a way which is accessible to everyone.

I’m not sure how you did it,

but this book is gold dust to the new, and experienced, alike.”

Rachel Cheer, Celebrant at Hope Ceremonies

 

Some of the most important words ever spoken are only heard once.

 

Write That Eulogy offers an antidote to the tired traditional telling of eulogies. This book is for anyone who is considering writing their life story, or someone else’s, so it is told faithfully and with creative flair at their funeral.

 

Whether you’re an experienced celebrant, officiant or vicar, or are facing the task of writing your first eulogy for a loved one, this book will give you practical and proven ideas and techniques based on the author’s experience as a funeral celebrant.

 

If you’re willing to question what’s always been done, then you’re half way there to improving funeral ceremonies.

 

Veronika Robinson is a celebrant in Cumbria, in the north of England, a celebrant trainer and author.

What Celebrants Are Saying About Write That Eulogy

I found it so incredibly useful to have each stage and writing skill/tool described in such a clear and methodical way.
Breaking down the understanding of writing a eulogy, in so many ways, by looking at the areas of life (which I loved!) and also by considering literary elements, made the process of eulogy writing, for me, far less huge and daunting. And that there’s no need to sit with a blank piece of paper, wondering where to start. I think my tendency generally is to focus on the ‘whole’ which turns any task into an enormous monster; I feel I can now tackle a eulogy in stages, in a rather more sensible fashion.

I’m reminded that writing is an on-going process, and the development of skills and, very importantly, attention to the senses, can really make a difference to sensitive and thoughtful writing.

I find that family sometimes seem to feel duty or honour bound to write and deliver a eulogy themselves, as if it’s the last thing they can ‘do’ for the deceased. So for anyone who does choose to deliver a eulogy, your book would be an absolute godsend.

Truly, I loved it; it’s accessible, so informative and a joy to read. I also find your ability to share personal information about yourself really heartwarming.
Lorraine Haven, Celebrant, U.K

‘Write That Eulogy’ has been a joy to read. The way in which you manage to paint the most beautiful pictures with your words, not just as part of one of your eulogies, but in leading your readers to see, hear, feel, and physically experience your style, is a true gift. I have been lucky enough to train with you Veronika, and already receive wonderful comments from people who have listened to one of my eulogies, thanks to you. But I have learned so much more from the varied and insightful examples given, and been thoroughly challenged by your exercises, to examine how much more I could, and will, be doing.

Sharing the details of someone’s life should be treated with the greatest of respect, but that does not mean their Eulogy shouldn’t be a true reflection of them, whether they were joyful, dour, nature lovers, hoarders, care givers or miseries.

Veronika, your book not only acknowledges, it pays unflinching tribute to all of those most difficult circumstances which could be faced, meets them head on, and gives eloquent examples for how to deal with them.

Anyone, from an experienced Celebrant, to a person just writing for someone by default, will be able to improve not just their writing skills, but their delivery skills as well, achieving that much sought after outcome of bringing the person back to life, one last time.

Thank you Veronika.
Michelle Knight, Celebrant, UK


It provides a step-by-step guide to the multifaceted task of eulogy construction. I think if I was new to the subject, this would be a brilliant guide. Equally, I was riveted, as a more experienced writer. I think all the examples really bring it to life.

We never stop learning our trade. It is easy to slip into more mundane ways and this is a beautiful prod to never become boring. I have learned that there is much technical detail in a eulogy. I think I do lots of it naturally, but it has made me appreciate the complexity of the work.

It is written in a way which is accessible to everyone. I’m not sure how you did it, but this book is gold dust to the new, and experienced, alike.
Rachel Cheer, Celebrant, Scotland

This book will definitely help me with eulogy writing. I loved the areas of human life, these will certainly help me to reframe my questioning and help me to get more meaningful information to work with. I also loved reading the scene setting, and again, this made me think about my own style of writing and ways to improve it.
This book would be useful for anyone who works with people as it helps you to think ‘outside of the box’ and question the very essence of human beings.
Lianne Downey, Celebrant, England

Wow! The Twelve Areas of Human Life was absolutely fascinating. Your experience and attention to fact finding and in-depth detail of avoiding the dreaded resume we so often hear at funerals was not only enlightening but much appreciated. Word Medicine and the chapter titled Difficult Death Stories were chock full of helpful information and I am just amazed at some of the situations you’ve had to rise above and work with.

I have learned so much that I feel my anxiety towards interviewing mourners actually dissolving!

Has to be the most interesting “text book” I’ve ever had the pleasure of reading.
Kimberlee Brown-Cassady, Celebrant, USA

I loved this book for lots of different reasons. Firstly it was very inviting – it makes you want to be the best you can be, at creating a eulogy which honours and tells the story of the deceased.

I loved it, as a newbie to the celebrant world; it’s a book that is super insightful, helpful, and packed full of a life’s worth of learning to help others be the best they can be at writing that eulogy!
Deb Anderson, Celebrant, England

You make the reader recognise that writing a great eulogy is not for the faint hearted, and you must have a passion for writing and understand the mechanics of it. The anecdotal experiences described give the reader a real sense of the work of a professional celebrant.
Gill Bunting, Celebrant, England

Write That Eulogy has been woven together beautifully; it’s an effortless read which can teach an individual a lot about themselves, as well as a craft that you have spent years fine-tuning.
Ben Foreman, Celebrant, Scotland

I have learned that I will never stop learning. Your writing is inspirational. I must admit that this book will be read many times. There are many subjects covered that I feel reviewing it after reading it only once is a disservice. It will help enormously with writing my eulogies. This book will be of great help to existing celebrants and invaluable to new ones like myself. Anyone interested in words and creativity would be interested too, once they read the contents page!
Kate Pope, Celebrant, England

/0 Comments/by