A writer’s group fuelled by coffee and biscuits.
An armpit room up steep twisted stairs in a community centre on a dismal estate in Northern Ireland.
So many houses burned out the locals call it, Ballybosnia.
The laughter and creativity set hearts aglow.
Sharing thoughts and experiences of life.
Rich in failure and very rare successes.
But open and unveiled.
A space to share even the raw pain of loss with others.
For that pain to be spread butter like, over waiting hearts.
Soaking it up like crumpets and lightening, the teller of sorrows.
Awakening, empathy and support in the listeners.
Healing wounds with silence, and some words.
An honour to share such space with such souls.
"... engage in meaningful conversation in those social spaces open to you; and participate, to the extent possible, in undertakings and efforts directed towards the common good."
The Universal House of Justice
