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Do You Have To Train To Be A Celebrant?

 

Do you have to train to be a celebrant?

 

By Veronika Sophia Robinson

This is probably one of the first questions someone asks when they’re playing with the idea of a career in celebrancy. The short answer is: in the UK, no. Celebrancy, like the wedding and funeral industries, is (at the time of publishing this blog: December 2025) an unregulated industry. That means any old cowboy can set up and sell their wares. The question is: should they?

 

 

Celebrancy is ripe with stories of ceremonies ruined by incompetent celebrants. It’s heart-breaking because the people they are paid to serve will NEVER get that ceremony again. 

As someone who has been officiating ceremonies for more than thirty years, and training celebrants since 2017, my advice is: give this profession the respect it deserves. It might look easy to stand up in front of an audience of wedding guests or congregation of mourners, but that doesn’t mean it is.  Officiating a ceremony is a small part of the role. There are so many aspects to being a celebrant that to jump in, and be there to support people in their pivotal life stories, requires a full understanding of the role. And that’s not something you learn or pick up in two minutes or get off a quick online course or a two-day ‘turn up and get a certificate’ course. The standards for entering this profession should be rigorous, and led and maintained by those who have a long standing as celebrants (not those whose long background is in marketing or business and very little real-life celebrant experience).

 

Veronika officiating Sarah and Ned’s Wedding

 

One thing I hear from our celebrant-training students (and they say this after the first couple of hours on day one!) is that they can’t believe how much is involved in the role, and that they really had no idea.

Sometimes a potential wedding client asks “Do we have to have a celebrant? Can we just get a friend to do the ceremony?” My response is: “Yes, your friend can do it for you. No problem. But you might want to think really carefully about whether that’s the best decision.” There is a world of difference between a friend officiating a ceremony and an expert skilled in holding the space, with experience in getting the words off the page, and guiding people through the liminal space of their ceremony. Do they have the skills to deal with the unexpected?

It might be tempting to skip celebrant training and tell yourself you’ll pick it up on the job. There’s nothing to stop you doing that but is it fair for people (mourners or wedding couples for example) to have their once-in-a-lifetime moment in the hands of someone who isn’t 100% clear about their role?

It’s not dissimilar to insurance. It’s not a matter of can you afford insurance? Can you afford not to have insurance?

Can you afford not to be a professional celebrant trained to an excellent standard?

Extract from funeral script written by Veronika Robinson

 

What Google and AI Can’t Teach You About Being a Celebrant


I can, hand on heart, say that I’ve never outsourced the writing and creation of a single ceremony script to another celebrant or used AI to write one. It is becoming increasingly common for celebrants to engage in such a practice. There’s also a new generation of celebrants who have chosen not to spend money and time on seeking suitable training, and have decided to use Google and AI to give them entry into this vocation/career. While, on one hand, I can understand someone who has been asked to officiate a friend’s wedding turning to the Internet for help (because, let’s face it, they have NO idea how much is involved in this job), what I can’t (at any level) understand is why someone would base their new career on gathering titbits of information that they can’t know to be accurate, authentic or based on adequate experience.

We’ve had quite a few people come to us for celebrant training who’ve actually trained elsewhere but felt something was ‘lacking’. They’ve described the differences as like ‘night and day’. Their previous courses, they said, were not much better than scrolling the ‘net.

 

Veronika Robinson preparing to officiate a funeral at Ashgate Lane Cemetery Chapel



Here’s why Google (insert any other search engine) and AI won’t give you what you need for this role.

1. The key word here is ‘artificial’ (false, fake, faux, counterfeit, etc.) By choosing that route (to save time, money, or other) you are not getting the lived experience of someone who has successfully mastered the art and craft of celebrancy.
2. AI and Google will not show, demonstrate and explain the nuances of working with clients (especially ones who may be particularly challenging, for whatever reason) and how you navigate these relationships with care, compassion, understanding and expertise.
3. Any celebrant worth their salt will not be putting up well-written, beautiful bespoke scripts online so how the heck would AI the Poacher know what one looks like? The content of ‘order of service’ examples online is laughable, to say the least.
4. How does AI the Poacher (and his bestie Google) teach you how to use your voice to its best advantage, and guide you through learning presence over performance? There’s no point asking your partner or family member to give you feedback on your script or presentation because they don’t know what to look for.
5. Will AI and G-boy, rigorously go through your training scripts (like I do) and highlight all the areas which need improving? Do they know all the behind-the-scenes work involved in this job? Will they teach you what’s required to work in a crematorium, other chapel or burial ground; and how to seamlessly work with bereavement staff and funeral directors? Will they show you the ‘journey to ceremony’ regardless of the rite of passage? Do they understand the sensitivity required for working with the bereaved? No, no, no and no.
6. A and G have no ‘intelligence’ (emotional or otherwise) about the etiquette and practices required in this role. I once read a book on how to be a funeral celebrant and nearly passed out when I saw that to be a funeral celebrant all you need is a printer, paper and laptop. Nowhere in the book was any of the information that takes weeks and months (indeed years) to learn. It’s not just about writing a script, but understanding the logistics of choreography in any ceremony.
7. There’s a new trend in celebrancy for ‘unscripted ceremonies’. That’s all very well, but what about accountability? Even with a script, there are many, many tales of celebrants getting things wrong (because they didn’t show the client the script and have it approved or didn’t save the latest draft that was approved). You’re opening yourself up to a potential law suit if you don’t take responsibility for what you create and deliver. The only reason a scripted ceremony might be considered ‘boring’ is because the celebrant is unfamiliar with what they’ve written (that is, hasn’t rehearsed it many times) or it is poorly written. If the celebrant is enthusiastic about sharing the ceremony, that will shine through.
8. If you want to avoid the rigour which comes from excellent training (like ours, at Heart-led Celebrants), then you won’t last long with clients. They are, in effect, your employers. Your job is to take direction. If you’re unable to receive honest and open feedback from a celebrant trainer, then the day a client ‘tears your script apart’ will knock your confidence in ways you couldn’t imagine.
9. When I train someone to be a celebrant, I see their journey as a student akin to that of an apprenticeship. They are taking time to learn from someone who has spent years (and thousands of ceremonies) mastering their craft. They have seven-day-a-week access to tutor support, guidance and mentoring to help them on this path. As a trainer, I am invested in someone’s learning. I want the best for them, and I also care about their future clients. Do you think A and G will be by your side when you’re officiating your first funeral for a baby or a death by suicide? Will they be there when the bride is having an emotional breakdown in the minutes before her ceremony? Will A and G teach you the hundreds of small details that become part of an experienced celebrant’s ‘muscle memory’ of what does and doesn’t work? Will they be there for you when you’re heading off to officiate a funeral on the day one of your loved ones has died?
10. Your clients get one chance at their ceremony. Respect them enough to ensure you have the skills to know what you’re doing and the qualities to be a great celebrant. The latter has nothing to do with popularity or meaningless celebrant awards and has everything to do with professional integrity.

What you think you’re saving in time and money by choosing A and G over excellent training will cost you more in the long run. So much more. And not only that, it will impact every client you have.

 

Veronika Robinson officiating at Emily and Ben’s woodland wedding at Low Hall The Lakes




Veronika Robinson and Paul Robinson are a husband and wife team whose boutique celebrant training Heart-led Celebrants attracts people from around the world. Heart-led Celebrants has earned a reputation for excellence in celebrant training, and those who are certified exemplify the highest standards in the industry.

 

We promise that our celebrant-training courses exceed what you’ll learn on NOCN courses.

 

Veronika has been a working celebrant (internationally, and across all rites of passage) for more than thirty years. She generously shares her experiences with celebrants-in-training. Veronika is the author of many books including the popular Celebrant Collection: Write That Eulogy; The Successful Celebrant; Funeral Celebrant Ceremony Planner; Wedding Celebrant Ceremony Planner; The Discrimination-free Celebrant; The Five Elements. She earned her Masters Degree in Creative Writing from University of Cumbria.

Award-winning voice artist, Paul Robinson, has had a whole career centred around his voice and other people’s. He’s highly experienced as a celebrant, trained actor, drama coach, voice-over artist, singer, broadcaster, compère, and ventriloquist. Paul is an excellent communicator and teacher, and has a sixth sense about how to relate to individuals, groups and audiences.

 

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Independent Celebrant Retreats

In my role as a celebrant trainer, I also offer not-for-profit retreats for celebrants and celebrants-in-training. Why? Because primarily we work in solitude. Coming together with others in our professional field offers a wonderful opportunity to share enriching experiences, forge friendships, live and learn together for a few days.

 

 

 

Our retreats are held here in the beautiful Eden Valley, Cumbria.

Celebrant Retreat: 5pm Friday 27th March to 10am Monday 30th March 2026, Eden Valley, Cumbria

At our next celebrant retreat, the theme is The Creative Fire. What does this mean? We will be exploring and experiencing different ways to be creative and how that nurtures us personally and professionally. Each tutor has been carefully chosen to offer sessions which will enliven you but also give you the chance to create something beautiful that you can take home for your celebrant practice.

Dine in the medieval hall

 


Creativity is the cornerstone of celebrant life, yet how often do we consciously think about what this really means? And, just as importantly, what do we do to stoke the embers of inspiration?

Creativity is manifestation: we are bringing something, that didn’t exist before, into being. During this retreat, you’ll learn to listen out for your creative voice and connect with your inner artist. We offer a gently structured and nurturing environment for you to ‘play’.

 


You will come away understanding and being able to implement the five corners of The Creative Fire and the three elements to sustain this through your professional (and personal) life.


Your tutors include:
• an internationally renowned potter
• a gilder
• a calligrapher
• creativity coach
• novelist and celebrant with 30 years experience
• a comedy writer to help you infuse humour and playfulness into your celebrancy

 



Apart from our structured sessions, there’ll also be time and space for resting, walks in nature, or taking part in crafting a druid’s besom or coffin-blessing brush, rustic vow-renewal booklet and gift cards for clients, and more.

Delicious (vegetarian) evening meals will be created by a private chef to ensure you feel nourished. Afterwards, you’re invited to gather around the firepit under the starlit Cumbrian sky and toast (vegan) marshmallows.

 



So, are you ready to settle back with a cuppa and enjoy? There’ll be brushes, pencils, yarn, clay, gold leaf, ink, watercolours, time to journal or even sing into a microphone if you like. If you have an open mind and a willing heart, then come and join us for an immersive weekend of play. Our weekend retreat is held in a luxurious five-star Cumbrian longhouse, and runs from 5pm Friday 27th March 2026 to 10am Monday 30th March. We deliberately keep our retreats small (max. 10), so that you can get to know each attendee. Places are available on a first-come first-served basis. www.heartledcelebrants.com/celebrant-retreats

 


Veronika Robinson and Paul Robinson are a husband and wife team whose boutique celebrant training Heart-led Celebrants attracts people from around the world. Heart-led Celebrants has earned a reputation for excellence in celebrant training, and those who are certified exemplify the highest standards in the industry.

Veronika is the author of many books including the popular Celebrant Collection: Write That Eulogy; The Successful Celebrant; Funeral Celebrant Ceremony Planner; Wedding Celebrant Ceremony Planner; The Discrimination-free Celebrant; The Five Elements.

Award-winning voice artist, Paul Robinson, has had a whole career centred around his voice and other people’s. He’s highly experienced as a celebrant, trained actor, drama coach, voice-over artist, singer, broadcaster, compère, and ventriloquist. Paul is an excellent communicator and teacher, and has a sixth sense about how to relate to individuals, groups and audiences.

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One Wedding a Day: A Cumbrian-based Celebrant’s Promise to Her Wedding Couples


In my twenty eight years as a wedding celebrant, I’ve never officiated more than one wedding a day (and nor will I in the future). And there’s a good reason or this: my intention is always quality over quantity. My promise to each wedding couple is that they’ll have my undivided attention. This focus means that I’m not under any time pressure and nor are they (and nor will I get their names wrong!). A registrar, for example, who often officiates several services a day, offers no leeway for a change of plans.

 

For Claire’s gorgeous wedding at Grubbin’s Point, Cumbria, they stood on this heart of moss surrounded by heart-shaped stones that her and Tony collected on beach walks.



For example, I had a ceremony recently where one of the essential suppliers had a flat tyre on the way to the venue. Had it been a registrar-led service, the bride would have had to have her ceremony even though she didn’t have what she needed for the day.

Oftentimes I have couples who’d love an outdoor ceremony. The weather being what it is in Britain, we’re often rained off! However, due to my flexibility and promise, we can wait a shower out if it means you’ll get your ceremony outdoors.

We just missed the rain for Paul and Katie’s gorgeous outdoor ceremony at Appleby Castle.



From my perspective, I’m yours till the ceremony is complete. I am patient, flexible and adaptable.

When a couple books me for their ceremony, I block off the whole day (and the day before for a rehearsal). A lot of my couples, somewhere in the lead up to the ceremony, change the start time. This is 100% fine with me. Imagine, though, if I had another ceremony booked? It certainly wouldn’t be fine!

 

Katie’s gorgeous processional for her wedding to Paul at Appleby Castle.


Many times I’ve been called by distressed couples because their celebrant has let them down at short notice. Also, it’s not unusual for celebrants to ‘double book’ and then, as they draw closer to the day, decide which couple they most prefer to work with. This is not part of my celebrant practice.

 

Darryl and Greg’s Ceremony was at Three Hills Barn, Cumbria



When I say to my couples that they’re in safe hands, this is true. I come with 28 years of experience, and have never missed a ceremony. I’m organised, reliable and dedicated to giving you the BEST DAY EVER.

 

Laura and Gina’s BEST DAY EVER. I loved being their celebrant.



Veronika Robinson is an Aussie celebrant and celebrant trainer living in Cumbria who officiates across all rites of passage. From elopements and micro-weddings to huge ceremonies, her style is relaxed, authentic and friendly. With a Masters Degree in Creative Writing, she brings this to her storytelling. As an independent Heart-led Celebrant, she officiates ceremonies according to each client’s beliefs and is happy to create weddings which are religious, spiritual, agnostic or humanist in the setting of your choice, day or night, any day or season of the year.

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Celebrant’s Notebook: A Dark and Stormy Night Cocktail Ritual

Veronika Robinson has been a celebrant for 27 years. She officiates ceremonies, across all rites of passage, from Callanish to Cornwall, however works primarily out of Cumbria. She is also a celebrant trainer at Heart-led Celebrants, and is editor of The Celebrant magazine.

 

Rite of Cocktail Mixing: Dark and Stormy

by Veronika Robinson

It was a dark and stormy time in Laura’s life when Steve brought just the right ingredients to turn things around. This ritual symbolises the blending together of their two lives.

The Dark and Stormy Cocktail is a rather mystical, mysterious and strong libation based on just three distinct ingredients:

Kraken spiced rum

Ginger beer

Lime juice

Rum symbolises that happiness and a good time were coming their way!

They each took turns adding the ingredients.

Rum improves with age. It has a way of becoming bolder and more confident, and this is what we wished for them individually and as a married couple.

Lime symbolises fidelity. We asked that they stay faithful to each other physically, emotionally and with each thought they had. Lime brings out the elements of this drink and, just like marriage, a tangy touch can bring out the essence.

 

Ginger is for abundance and good fortune coming into their home. We wished that this remains so for the rest of their lives.

 

To give this cocktail its stormy feature, Steve add a second shot of rum.

The individual ingredients still existed as entities in their own right but blended together made something interesting, distinctive and strong.

They then enjoyed three celebratory sips, with each one symbolising a different aspect of their love.

Couple: Mr and Mrs Stables 

Celebrant: Veronika Robinson

Venue: New House Farm, Lorton near Cockermouth, Cumbria

Photographer: Joshua Wyborn

 

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Celebrant’s Notebook: Ceremony Development


There are so many aspects to the art of creating a ceremony that, if you’re planning to book a celebrant, it’s worth really looking into what’s involved. Your investment in a celebrant goes way beyond paying someone to stand up and speak for 20-30 minutes or so.

 



Opening Up to Inspiration
From the moment I’m booked, ceremony development is happening. It is entwined in every interaction between me and the people I’m serving. My mind is integrating each piece of information I’m given, and I begin creating (in my head if not on the page). Certainly, when I come to the page (blank screen on my laptop or notebook), I’m already hosting an influx of ideas.

 



Listening
Listening is, I believe, the most important aspect of being a celebrant. By this I mean deep-level listening. This is about more than what you hear. It’s also about what’s not spoken, and having a keen awareness of body language. There’s another listening that happens, too, and for me this is listening to my inner voice (or intuition). This guidance supports me in all my ceremony writing (even, and especially, when my ‘logical’ voice is telling me otherwise).

To listen is to have a solid foundation for what is placed upon that.

 



Creating
Next comes creating. As a sensual person, my whole being is involved in ceremony creation. I can see it, hear it, perhaps have a sense of the scent of it (if there are perfumery rituals or we’re outdoors), and I really can feel the ceremony in my whole being. THIS, of course, has to be translated to the page.

 



Choice Making
Before a script is written, there are choices to be made (by me and/or my client), communication, research, considering my reaction to various ideas. Even in scripts with a short turn-around time, such as a funeral, where I’m working to the pressure of having to send off a script within 24 to 48 hours, I still go through the same phases of ceremony development (just in concentrated time).

 



Unseen Qualities
There is no price that you can put on a celebrant’s experience, creativity, empathy and intuition.

Obviously, we charge a fee as an energy exchange (money is, after all, our cultural currency) for our services but I often wonder about that potency or accuracy of that. For example, coming home from a double-grief funeral, when my heart is split in two from the trauma and tragedy story I’ve walked into and out of, I know that there is no price you can put on being ‘the keeper of stories’. What fee can you place on all the hours of walking beside another in grief?

 



And who holds the celebrant as they integrate all the grief they’ve absorbed from a congregation of mourners? Whether we like it or not, being a funeral celebrant can have a massive impact on our health as we’re having to ‘master’ emergent grief and empathy from spilling out. It takes a toll. And then there’s the stress of making sure a funeral service in a crematorium doesn’t run over time (even though a skilled celebrant writes their scripts to be time sensitive, other timing issues are well out of our control).

 


As a celebrant who officiates across all rites of passage, many of my ceremonies are happy and joyous. These too, despite the upbeat tone, also carry the weight of responsibility: to ‘get it just right’.

There are times, to the untrained eye, where I might look as if I’m just pottering around the garden admiring my flowers (which I am) but it’s also a quiet space in which to allow ideas to unfurl. Sitting on the sofa in silence, watching flames flicker in the woodstove or standing in a steamy shower are also times for ‘creating ceremony’.

 

 

My creativity isn’t marked by being at the laptop from 9am to 5pm. This is no ordinary job. I don’t actually see celebrancy as a job so much as a way of life. It is a constant energy exchange between me, the world around me, and the people I serve.

So I’m just as likely to be celebranting (creating ceremony) while cooking up a curry, watching rain drops slipping down the window pane, gathering raspberries at sunrise, or out walking in the woods.

 

Wherever I am, and no matter the time of day, all these places and moments have one thing in common: my heart. And this ‘ol heart is what takes me through each moment of ceremony development.



Veronika Robinson has been officiating ceremonies since 1995. She’s also a celebrant trainer for Heart-led Celebrants, and editor of The Celebrant magazine. She officiates ceremonies from Callanish to Cornwall, though primarily works in Cumbria.

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Celebrant’s Notebook: Children at Funerals

By Veronika Robinson

 

Across the years, the question of whether children should be ‘allowed’ at funerals has remained a sensitive topic. There’s no definitive black-and-white answer, however, I would like to share the case for, and place of, children at funeral ceremonies.

A few years ago, my best friend ended her life. It coincided with the 40th anniversary of her late father’s passing. Over the course of our eighteen-year friendship, the one recurring story I heard was about how, as a ten-year-old, she’d been denied the right to attend his funeral. This, she said, had a life-long impact on her mental health. There was no closure. The emotions which bubbled up were quickly shut down. I’ve heard this story from many other adults who’d shared a similar experience. Let me say here, I fully understand that the adults who made those decisions for their children did so with the best possible intentions. They were endeavouring to protect. How were they to know the life-long impact?

Perhaps the question shouldn’t be so much as ‘should this child go to the funeral?’ but rather ‘will it help their healing and grief to share in this moment of remembrance and saying goodbye?’

 

Culturally, we have been taught to suppress feelings with comfort food, alcohol, shopping, sex, Netflix, endless scrolling of social media, and so it goes on. Why are we so scared of our feelings? Yes, crying (and grief) is exhausting. There can be anger, guilt, even betrayal at a loved one’s death. When someone dies, we each have our own experience of grief (no one can EVER know how you’re feeling). Because adults are often well-versed in how to ‘numb out’, it can be confronting to see a youngster who is fully in their feelings.

As a funeral celebrant, I’m acutely aware (at any ceremony, of any type) that it could be the first time someone goes to a ceremony or may be the last one they ever go to. And this applies to children, too. There’s an added responsibility (in my opinion) for the person leading the service to ensure it is child/age appropriate and sensitive. But more than that, it is a unique opportunity to show that in the face of loss, grief and tragedy there can be deep love shining out. And interwoven in our stories that we share on behalf of the family, are moments for crying, yes, but also for laughter or at the very least: gentle knowing smiles. However these emotions are expressed, they offer a release valve. Movement helps to assuage the fight-or-flight response.

 

Where possible, I will find ways for the children to be involved in the ceremony at a level that feels right for them. This can range from writing a few words, a poem, drawing a picture, helping decorate a coffin, or helping with a ritual. This active participation ensures they are at the heart of meaning-making, and will have the whole range of their tender and fragile feelings honoured.

At what age is it ok to allow a child attend? I’ve experienced every age at funerals from a nursing newborn whose father had died through to a crematorium full of toddlers(racing around the whole time), preschoolers and up to teenagers.

 

There is a difference between children attending because they knew the deceased as opposed to toddlers attending because their parent (who knows the chief mourner) doesn’t have a childminder. As ever, awareness and sensitivity of the mourning family and their ability to be fully present in the ceremony should be uppermost in your decision making.

 

When mourners attend a funeral, their focus is primarily on the person leading the ceremony and their loved one in the coffin or shroud. As a funeral celebrant, MY focus is not only on officiating the ceremony but I have full awareness of all the faces before me, whether it’s a small ceremony of two or one with 500 mourners. I’m constantly ascertaining the energy in the room, the body language of people, emotions being displayed or withheld, and the faces. It is a constant study of faces. I’ve had funerals where, the mother in me, just wanted to leave the lectern and wrap a crying child (whose mother was in the coffin) in my arms. That’s my natural instinct: to ease pain. To offer a balm. My job, however, is to offer healing in other ways. I do this through my word medicine, the kindness, care and authenticity I bring to the ceremonial space.

A number of my recent funerals have had quite a few children in attendance. The one thing which has really struck me with all the children was that they were 100% present. And this, I believe, is key. It means that in the liminal space of the funeral ceremony they were actively integrating everything that was happening. Their faces spoke to me of grief and devastation, yes, but ALSO of curiosity, love, tenderness and, at times, laughter.

 

Language is important. I never use words like ‘sorry for your loss’. Their loved one is dead, not lost. They’re not coming back. I might say “I’m so sorry for all the pain you’re going through.” I use words like death and dying because this is the reality. For the same reason, I don’t talk of a “baby born sleeping” (unless the parents want those words).

Life on Earth is transient. We only need to look to the season of Autumn to see that even Nature has her endings. This isn’t about being cold or harsh, but the opposite. The kindest thing we can do for any grieving person is to stand in a state of love and grace. To do so, means we’re less likely to choose the wrong words or try to cover over the reality of the situation. We’re offering our presence. We’re there to listen or to gently reflect the memories they’ve shared with us.

 

My role as a funeral celebrant is to hold the space. The energy I bring to the ceremony is one of inclusivity and kindness. This is a safe space in which to allow children a place to honour their feelings around a loved one’s death. If a celebrant can reverently reminisce about their loved one, and show the panoramic view of their life, followed by the gentlest of goodbyes, steeped in the reality of a physical ending, this will help a child on their path of healing. As adults, this is what we’d want for ourselves. Let us extend the gift of grief awareness to children, too.

 

Veronika Robinson is a Heart-led Celebrant in Cumbria who officiates across all rites of passage. She’s also co-tutor at Heart-led Ceremonies Celebrant Training, and editor of The Celebrant magazine.

 

 

 

 

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Celebrant Training: do you know the difference between certificates based on aptitude and those on attendance?

 

 

When searching for a celebrant-training course, it is vital that you’re aware of a distinct difference between outcomes. Some organisations give anyone who attends their course a certificate which declares them to be a ‘professional celebrant’.

 

 


As a celebrant trainer, there are deep concerns that I have with this approach. It means that people enter into what is already an unregulated profession with a lot of ‘cowboy’ celebrants. There’s no quality control over who ends up working with people during their rites of passage. Without assessing someone’s suitability for this profession, it leaves vulnerable people wide open to poor standards and no accountability!

Even amongst training organisations which require some work, the levels of assessment vary hugely from one training business to another.



At Heart-led Ceremonies Celebrant Training, we make no apology for our rigorous assessments. This guarantees that our graduates become working celebrants of the highest professional standard in the industry. To be clear, not everyone who trains with us receives a certificate. It may be because they realise they aren’t suited to the profession, and don’t have the work ethic to generate bespoke scripts, for example. Mostly, it is because they just haven’t put in the required effort and have not demonstrated their willingness to learn.

As a tutor, I work diligently with each new celebrant in training to help them achieve their goal. The work required, however, has to come from them. I can’t do it for them.


We expect a high level of professionalism from all our graduates. This begins with the commitment they bring to their training and by abiding to our code of conduct.

There is a minimum of twelve weeks training (a mix of face-to-face via Zoom, written modules, vocal and presentation performance, and independent learning), followed by our monthly group CPD sessions, and life-long learning.



If you are a person who is committed to developing awareness of yourself and others, willing to train to an excellent level, and are creative, independent, inspirational, authentic and courageous, and wish to consciously create beautiful ceremonies in your community, then Heart-led Ceremonies Celebrant Training welcomes your application. You will be required to submit all written modules and do your vocal and presentation work within twelve weeks.  We don’t have an open-ended approach to submissions because in the real world, as a professional celebrant, you will always be working to deadlines. As your tutors, we need to have a good idea of your ability to be disciplined, focussed and level of responsibility. The care, attention, enthusiasm, respect, communication skills, imagination and dedication you bring to your training are the foundation for an amazing life as a celebrant. It is our deepest desire to see this happen for you.






We take a holistic approach to celebrancy, encouraging ongoing personal development, and recognise the importance and value of ongoing skill building.

At the heart of our training, is that the life and work of a heart-led celebrant is based on integrity, self-awareness, acceptance and creativity.

If choosing to do one of our training courses, please ensure that you have the time and availability to dedicate to your training.




Veronika Robinson is the co-founder and co-tutor of Heart-led Ceremonies Celebrant Training, editor of The Celebrant magazine, and has enjoyed being a celebrant since 1995. She lives in beautiful Cumbria and officiates ceremonies across all rites of passage.

 
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World Celebrants Week

Having had the pleasure of officiating ceremonies, internationally, for more than 26 years, I am so excited to announce that World Celebrants Week will take place from November 15th to 21st.



During this week, I’ll be wearing my three celebrant-related hats: Independent Celebrant, Celebrant Trainer at Heart-led Ceremonies Celebrant Training, and as editor of The Celebrant magazine.

 



As a celebrant, I’ll be sharing tips on what to look for in a celebrant. I’ll also give a peep into my daily celebrant life through images, videos and blogs. I hope you’ll join me! You’ll be able to follow me on Instagram, Twitter, Facebook and YouTube and my blogs.

 



At the heart of celebrancy, we CELEBRATE LIFE!

 



Veronika x

 

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Civil partnership or co-creative bond?

 

Increasingly, people are seeing marriage, and certainly the patriarchal or religious influences around that institution, to be archaic. Indeed, at the time of writing, there is currently a long-awaited review into marriage laws as they are well and truly outdated.

Having a significant life relationship legally recognised, without the weight of traditions, is appealing to those who seek a balanced landscape upon which to honour and celebrate their union. Partnership is about equality.

 

A common question from fellow celebrants is: what’s the difference between a wedding ceremony and a civil-partnership ceremony? It’s understandable that there might be some confusion because of it being quite new to our understanding of what ‘bonds’ a couple in the eyes of others and the law.

 

A wedding ceremony (including contemporary and alternative ones) tends to share common themes such as traditional rituals like the processional of the bride, the bride being given away, the giving of rings, pledges/vows, and primarily the language used: husband and wife (wife and wife, husband and husband), marriage, and so on. These are so engrained in our cultural wedding traditions that we expect to see these in a bonding ceremony, even those with an alternative flair.

Loz and I the moment we see his beloved Kate arriving to join us and their guests beside the waterfall.

When I train celebrants, we talk about what makes a marriage commitment real. Is it the legal document the couple signs? Is it the wedding ceremony they share with friends and family? Indeed, does an elopement with only two witnesses constitute the same level of commitment as a ceremony with many witnesses? Is marriage God ordained? Does the legal signing of a document bond a couple? All these questions are important to ask, and from a celebrant point of view, I believe it is vital that we understand our own beliefs about relationships and bonding. What do we, as celebrants, energetically bring to the unions (traditional or otherwise) that we are so privileged to be part of?

Who decides if a bond is valid and/or sacred? Who has the right to ordain this? What words or actions need to be spoken or enacted to give credence to this rite of passage? Indeed, is a bonding ceremony considered meaningful only if it is in tandem with the legal contract? (which is essentially notification to the government about a change in taxation status [read that bit about the legal contract again])

 

It is because of all these questions/answers, and more, that some couples are turning towards civil partnership. Apart from the uninspiring label (no doubt decided upon by a civil servant), what couples like these are looking for is to have their loving relationship recognised for the co-creative equal union that it is, and in some cases they’re quite happy to sign the legal document and then carry on with life as per normal while enjoying the financial benefits that this brings.

For others, they wish to bring in the simplicity and balance that comes with identifying as partners rather than traditional titles but would also like a ceremony to share their commitment in front of loved ones. From a ceremony-creation point of view, this can still be as beautiful, romantic, creative, life affirming, and rich with symbolism, as any traditional wedding ceremony or alternative one. My job, as ever, is about creating a ceremony which reflects whatever is meaningful to the couples I work with, and which honours the truth about their lives and choices.

 

 

Veronika Robinson is a celebrant in Cumbria and has officiated all manner of ceremonies, internationally, since 1995. www.veronikarobinson.com/celebrant She’s the editor of The Celebrant magazine www.thecelebrantmagazine.co.uk and celebrant trainer at Heart-led Ceremonies Celebrant Training. www.veronikarobinson.com/celebrant-training

Veronika is currently the president of the Association of Independent Celebrants (AOIC).

 

 

 

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Grief and good cheer

Grief, Gluttony, Giving, Gratitude. Our experience of Christmas tends to fall into one or two of those areas.

 

Christmas has always been a cherished time in my life, made magical by parents who brought the festive season alive with enchantment and mystery. The Germanic tradition my parents passed onto me is something I still honour. And so, I celebrate on Christmas Eve by candlelight with a lovingly prepared meal and gentle time with my loved ones. This, to me, is Christmas. It’s based on simplicity, love, beauty, and kindness.

As children we would gather by the tree (one grown on our land), the scent of pine infusing the room as we sang Christmas songs in both German and English. To celebrate Christmas was to cross the threshold into another world: it was, indeed, ceremonial, and imbued with ritual, magic and love. I’ve always adored Christmas for its ability to bring heightened beauty into my life.

 

Carrying this beacon from my mother to my own children was no easy task. I’m not sure I ever managed to carry it off, but I will always cherish the years that my daughters were part of this season. I remember their sweet little faces as they sang songs, played instruments; and, as they grew older, their place alongside me in the kitchen preparing the celebratory food. There was nowhere in the world that I wanted to be other than with my little family all safe and happy under one roof. The whole of December was one long festive cheer. The fact my Christmas CD collection is disproportionately huge compared to any other type of music, is evidence of that. Those days are gone. Family Christmases are lost forever.

 

 

The Grief-riddled Christmas

Over the years, I’ve invited people who’ve been on their own to spend it with me (firstly, when I was single) and then later, when I had my own family. One of those people was my dearest friend Pam. She hated Christmas. Her dad had died the week before Christmas, when she was just ten years old. As you can imagine, it had a life-long impact. Over the years, she’d come and be a valued part of our family celebrations. I always hoped that by having her share Christmas, it might help to disrupt the script she had of it being a hated event. I was wrong. Christmas Day 2016: She hung herself with the dog lead. There’s no nice was of framing that event. That’s the reality of it. Here one minute. Gone the next.

 

 

There’s a level of grief that will inevitably permeate every Christmas I experience from here on in (no matter how optimistic or determined I am to free myself from that weight). I alternate between missing our laughter, shared tears, hugs, long walks, the sharing of rom-coms at the cinema, and someone I could talk to in a way I’d never been able to talk to anyone else and wanting to slap her. I find myself so angry at her level of selfishness. “Christmas day, Pam? Ffs!” And then I remember how much she hated life, and I allow myself to understand. I respect her choice, knowing she’s at peace. Oftentimes, I find myself envying her and that complete freedom she now has from all earthly crud.

 

Types of grief

Of course, grief isn’t a one size fits all, and there are many types of grief which can riddle the Christmas season.

 

There can be the death of someone we’ve loved either at Christmas or throughout the year, and the ‘festive’ season being lived without their presence can take its toll. We feel obligated to wear the face of ‘good cheer’ so as not to ruin Christmas for anyone else, while all the time we just want to scream. We’re forced to suppress our grief.

 

There can be the death of family life as we’ve known it, either by circumstance (kids or parents moving far away), estrangement, or with them just being unavailable due to other commitments.

 

For those of a more sensitive, highly empathic, humanitarian disposition, world grief can bite at the heels causing us ongoing torment. How can we have all this greed and gluttony in our faces while people around the world are starving, in war zones, having homes burnt down, stuck in prisons, or enduring the violation of their human rights. Knowing there are people sleeping rough on the streets or others who’ve gone missing, animal cruelty, and so on, can take its toll on our wellbeing. That they are strangers, makes no less an impact than if we knew them personally. Our culture doesn’t offer support for those who feel this pain acutely. Serving up a festive meal and ensuring everyone has gifts and been sent a card can feel numbing and utterly pointless when the world is falling apart.

 

We may experience grief when our home has been taken from us in some way, through flood, fire, violation or even because a loved one has died there. Home is meant to be our sacred space, our safe place in this world. If you like, it’s our second skin. When that’s peeled from us, we’re more vulnerable than ever. Where do we go? How can we create a sense of safety in our life?

 

Maybe we are grieving our health, knowing illness is taking its hold and that our days or months on earth are few. Perhaps it’s amplified by unhealed rifts with friends or family.

Perhaps we’re grieving the loss of employment or other ways we identify ourselves or measure our value.

It could be that we’re grieving the permanent loss of a relationship: friendship, partner or child.

These forms of silent grief don’t have a funeral. There’s no one to pat us on the shoulder and say “I’m sorry for your pain.”

 

Grief may show up in the form of existential questioning. “Why am I here?” “What’s the purpose of life?” “Why do I have a charmed life while that person is on the streets?” Or maybe it’s “Why is my life so shit?” This can be as isolating as any other grief, and just as misunderstood. Like other forms of grief, there are no answers.

 

Grief, like water, is difficult to contain; always finding a way to seep through any available space. We use funerals to publicly share our grief, if only for a half hour or so. Mourning has no timeline. It doesn’t conform to trends, habit or belief systems. It is almost unidentifiable because it is unique to each person. No one can ever understand the landscape of our grief. For the most part, grief is an invisible parasite sometimes feasting and other times resting. All we know is that we aren’t in control of how it will behave at any given moment.

 

Of course, we don’t need the Christmas season to bring up all the variations of grief, but the expectation of festivity and good cheer is so mired in our cultural soup that it only heightens anything unlike itself.

 

Gluttony

Yesterday I popped out to the shop to get a red cabbage and Brussels sprouts for Christmas Eve dinner. The queues were eye watering and glacially slow but not nearly as much as the over-laden trolleys. The anger and bickering between couples and families as they fought their way through the jungle of Tesco, only highlighted just how far removed we are (culturally) from the point of Christmas. Even if the ‘cute baby Jesus story’ isn’t our thing, surely the reason for the season is actually about expressing love? If not, then WHAT IS IT FOR? Why do we continue to engage in something that seems to cause no end of stress to so many people? Every year, at least a dozen people will ask me: “Are you ready for Christmas?” That is, have I bought and wrapped loads of presents and stressed myself to the max. My answer is always the same: “I keep Christmas simple, and I don’t get overwhelmed by it.” About the only Christmas card I send now is to my mother. Gifts are for immediate family. It’s not selfish, it’s self aware. I could easily send out hundreds of cards and buy dozens of presents. These things don’t make the world a better place.

 

Christmas that straddles the terrain of crass commercialisation and the keeping up of appearances can only end up producing emptiness. A beautiful Christmas isn’t dependent on excess, greed, and over consumption (food, alcohol or presents). Giving isn’t determined by bank balance or baubles and tinsel.

Do we really need to buy that much food and alcohol for the couple of days that the shops are shut? Do we have to send Christmas cards to everyone we know? As with most things in life, if we’re always motivated or hindered by ‘but what will they think?’ it means we’re not being true to our self.

 

Giving

To give from the heart is to give of ourselves. In a world that’s riddled with pain, we can weave our way gently by touching others with sincerity and kindness. Even the smallest action can make a difference. Donating or volunteering to food banks, gifting to homeless shelters, visiting elderly people in a hospice who have no family, smiling at a stranger on the street, taking time to say to the person on the check out in hell city (supermarket), “I appreciate what you’re doing, and I hope you have a peaceful Christmas,” (ditto the people cleaning public loos) or checking on someone who has been bereaved – these acts of giving help to create a new world: a place that’s kinder and more gentle.

Gratitude

Gratitude is quite possibly the highest level of vibration that exists. The simplicity of just ‘being’ allows us to step beyond all cultural expectations and to be ourselves, grateful for our place in the world. Whether it’s from the perspective of ‘there, but for the grace of the Universe, go I,” or recognising that we could have been born into a different body, family, country, custom, religion or culture, and that where we are now is okay.

 

Do we have a roof over our head?

Do we have a meal to eat?

Do we have someone (no matter where they are geographically) we care for and who cares about us?

 

If we have these basics, is there a way we can share some of the good we have?

 

If we don’t have these, is there a way we can ask for what we need?

 

There will always be people with more or less than we have, physically, mentally, emotionally and spiritually. In the words of the late Ram Dass, “We’re all just walking each other home”.

If that’s true (and I have no reason to doubt it), then what can we do to help each other enjoy that journey? Surely that’s the meaning of Christmas, and every other day of the blessed year.

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