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.
https://veronikarobinson.com/wp-content/uploads/2019/01/vr9.jpg768768Veronika Sophia Robinsonhttps://veronikarobinson.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/09/logo-1.pngVeronika Sophia Robinson2023-10-06 09:15:312023-10-06 09:15:31One Wedding a Day: A Cumbrian-based Celebrant's Promise to Her Wedding Couples
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.
https://veronikarobinson.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/10/Steve-Laura-Wedding-Photos-138_websize-1.jpg10671600Veronika Sophia Robinsonhttps://veronikarobinson.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/09/logo-1.pngVeronika Sophia Robinson2022-10-12 11:52:402022-10-12 11:52:40Celebrant's Notebook: A Dark and Stormy Night Cocktail Ritual
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.
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.
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.
https://veronikarobinson.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/02/IMG_20190608_182220_950-scaled.jpg24802560Veronika Sophia Robinsonhttps://veronikarobinson.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/09/logo-1.pngVeronika Sophia Robinson2022-02-15 18:12:312022-02-15 18:14:17Celebrant Training: do you know the difference between certificates based on aptitude and those on attendance?
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.
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.
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.
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.
https://veronikarobinson.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/02/christmas.jpg35064999Veronika Sophia Robinsonhttps://veronikarobinson.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/09/logo-1.pngVeronika Sophia Robinson2019-12-24 10:24:542019-12-24 10:24:54Grief and good cheer
Even though our Celebrant Training is based in Cumbria, we attract students from America, Canada, and across Europe and the UK.
Heart-led Ceremonies is tutored by Veronika Sophia Robinson, a celebrant with almost 25 years of experience creating, writing and officiating all manner of ceremonies. The vocal coaching is given by Paul Robinson, an experienced celebrant and voice coach. The tutoring is specific to celebrant voice work.
Heart-led Ceremonies Celebrant Training is intense, creative, practical, inspiring and thought-provoking (and for some students, completely life changing), but it also involves a huge level of commitment from the student not only during the face-to-face training but afterwards with ongoing Skype sessions between the student and the tutors.
Unlike some training organisations, our certificates are issued on aptitude not attendance. This guarantees that all of our working celebrants are of the highest professional standard in the industry.
We make no apologies for these high standards as we take the role of celebrancy seriously, and we honour the fact that grieving families are vulnerable. Regardless of the type of ceremony you wish to create and officiate, we expect a high-level of professionalism from all our graduates. This begins with the commitment they bring to their training
Private Celebrant Training with Industry Experts
The training offered is done on a one-to-one basis; though two students who know each other are welcome to train at the same time.
The two-day course runs from 10am to 5pm. On the first evening you will have FOUR hours of independent learning time which includes written assignments to be completed in full by the next day.
The five-day course runs from 10-5pm, with TWO hours of independent learning time (for each of the first four days) which includes written assignments to be completed by the next day.
We’re often asked the difference between the 2 and 5 day training.
The 2 day will give you the nuts and bolts of what you need to become a professional celebrant.
The 5 day gives you the time and space to allow everything to embed, and to go deeper into the heart of celebrancy.
This training is person-centred, and offered in a relaxed and nurturing environment. Lunch and refreshments included.
TWO-DAY TRAINING | £580
FIVE-DAY TRAINING | £1450
Please note that this fee is tax deductible once you start working as a celebrant.
Please Note: All options include at least ten hours follow up by Skype or Facetime, as well as being included on the closed Facebook group for successful graduates where they’ll receive ongoing hints, tips, guidance, as well as other support.
Post-course support is ongoing, and there are opportunities to shadow experienced celebrants.
All formats include the study and practical experience of:
♥ Understanding ceremony structure. If you know how to create one type of ceremony you can create any ceremony (hence the reason this course encompasses funerals, namings, weddings, and other rites of passage).
♥ Recognising the skills and qualities necessary for personalised and professional, heart-led, celebrancy.
♥ Funerals, Memorials, Interment of Ashes (Understanding grief, family disputes, working with funeral directors, creating meaningful farewells, cremations, burials, eco-burials). In the five-day training, you may be able to include a visit to the crematorium or a funeral director. Both private training options may also include shadowing Veronika or other Heart-led Celebrants at a funeral or family visit.
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♥ Weddings, Handfastings, Elopements and Vow Renewals
♥ Naming Ceremonies (for babies, children, adults, and transgender people who wish to have their new identity formally honoured)
♥ Other rites of passage, such as menarche, blessingways, sagesse (wise crone), new business, divorce healing, and more.
♥ Understanding the legalities around death, funerals and marriage (e.g. the difference between a registrar and a celebrant)
♥ The difference between a heart-led celebrant and other types of celebrants
♥ The difference between an independent celebrant and a humanist
♥ Indoor and Outdoor Ceremonies
♥ Creating Sacred Space
♥ Setting Intention
♥ Creative Writing
♥ Script Writing
♥ Word Medicine
♥ Storytelling
♥ Performance
♥ Archetypes in Storytelling
♥ Symbols, Rituals and Altars
Altar at an outdoor wedding ceremony officiated by www.veronikarobinson.com
♥ Ceremonial Herbs
♥ Working with the Four Elements
♥ Body Awareness
♥ Celebrant Well-being
♥ Understanding the role of the Community Celebrant
♥ Voice development and coaching (this is required as an ongoing commitment by students via Skype after the initial training)
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♥ Being of Service
♥ The Responsibility of being a Celebrant
♥ Developing a higher-vibrational heart frequency
♥ Enhancing Intuition
♥ Sacred Connections with Clients
♥ Mainstream and Metaphysical Marketing
♥ Being Self-Employed
♥ Establishing Your Celebrant Business
♥ The Four Sacred Archetypes of Building Your Celebrancy Brand
Applicants
Applications are invited from people who are committed to developing awareness of self and others, willing to train to an excellent level, are creative, independent, inspirational, authentic and courageous, and wish to consciously create beautiful ceremonies in their community.
Unlike any other training course in England, this focuses on the importance of ongoing personal development, and takes a mind, body and soul approach to celebrancy and ceremonies, as well as recognising the importance of ongoing skill building.
The foundation of this celebrant training is based on integrity and self-awareness.
Dear Veronika,
There are not enough words to thank you for the truly life-changing two days spent with you in your lovely home in the beautiful Cumbrian countryside. You are an inspiration, a mentor and an advocate. You helped me to value myself and the gifts I can bring to this new chosen career.
You challenged me, but in a gentle and empathetic way that made me feel that it was going to be ok to try to get my words onto the page and then “off the page”. By the time I started writing with you (and it was very early on the first day), I felt that no matter what the result was to be, I had a soft place to land, and that you would support my efforts, no matter what the end product. And, as a result, I could take risks with my emotions and my words; not easy for anyone, especially an introvert like me.
I learned more about being a celebrant from you in two days than I did in the entire nine months of my previous program. I now feel that I can, with grace, humility and hard work, develop and deliver celebrations that will honour and support events in anyone’s life journey.
Thank you, thank you, Veronika for giving me the gift of “you”. You are a true, beautiful and rare gem. I shall never forget our time together.
If you’ve entered the world of celebrancy after being in paid employment and surrounded by other people all day long, you soon come to realise there are acres of time spent on your own. Working hours are irregular, too: there can be evening visits to those in mourning, and for wedding celebrants Saturdays are booked up long in advance, not to mention those midweek ceremonies. We can sit up long, long into the dark of night writing scripts.
Issue 2 of The Celebrant magazine
In an ideal world, we’d meet up with other celebrants each week and share ideas. This is where The Celebrant magazine comes in: it’s your ‘get-together’ with other celebrants to share, inspire, grow and remain enthusiastic.
Launched in September 2019 to an international readership, The Celebrant exists to unite celebrants around the world.
Amy and Samantha
The magazine is edited by Veronika Robinson who has been a celebrant (officiating all manner of ceremonies) for 24 years, and is the tutor at Heart-led Ceremonies Celebrant Training in Cumbria. She’s enthusiastic about sharing ceremonies and rituals from around the world.
https://veronikarobinson.com/wp-content/uploads/2019/12/vr6.jpg960960Veronika Sophia Robinsonhttps://veronikarobinson.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/09/logo-1.pngVeronika Sophia Robinson2019-12-10 10:36:342019-12-10 16:33:24A magazine for celebrants around the world