Tag: celebrant

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Washing up before New Year…

I’m writing this as a final batch of Rum & Raisin truffles are setting in the fridge & there’s a lot of washing up to do from a busy last day of 2025.

Perhaps you relish New Year celebrations, or you may find it overwhelming. Or a bit of both…

If it’s been a tough year, you might be exhausted and hoping for a better 2026, with the optimism of new beginnings.

2025 has been a long year, with a lot going on for those close to me, and I’ve been looking after some particularly heartbreaking services in my work as a Funeral Celebrant. 

It’s not an easy profession, supporting families at the worst time in their lives, but it’s a privilege to listen to the life stories of loved ones, and to be of service. Hopefully I can bring some comfort and honour their love.

I heard the phrase ‘to look with kind eyes’, from Adam Brody’s character in the Netflix TV show Nobody Wants This. it’s a wise way to view the world with a generous heart. I urge you to ‘look with kind eyes’ at yourself as you assess your year, to be proud of how you’ve navigated the difficult challenges alongside the happy times.

I received beautiful flowers from a family to thank me for two services I took for them recently. They wrote such tender words on the card and saw me ‘with kind eyes’ in the midst of their grief. The flowers bring winter colour to my desk, and I hope the New Year brings them peace and strength.

Life is full of many big emotions, and we try to hold space for them all. As a Celebrant I get to tell real life Love Stories – beautiful, messy and sometimes complicated, just like life.

Like most of us, I’m doing my best, I haven’t got everything figured out, but I’m grateful to be here and a part of this messy, complicated and beautiful life stuff!

I stumbled on some words from Rilke, about listening, which I’ll share below. (Apologies but I’ve forgotten who initially shared them.) However you approach the New Year, take a moment to listen. Perhaps listen to those closest to you, to hear what is and isn’t being said? Maybe listen to the symphony of traffic noise or notice morning birdsong, as you put the bins out.

Can you also take five minutes with a cuppa, and listen to yourself? Find that still, quiet spot deep inside, that you might not have noticed lately. What do you really want more or less of in your life? Beyond what advertisers claim you should desire for a New Year, what does your heart truly crave? 

It might be more quiet time to just drink tea, or read or draw, or perhaps you need more dancing in the kitchen, or karaoke in the shower. Maybe you yearn for a good cry in the bath, after all the difficult things you’ve navigated this year? 

Whatever it is you wish for, take a few moments to write it down and see where the pen leads you. Be curious, it may surprise you, and I hope you feel nourished by listening to yourself. Perhaps it will be the beginning of identifying something you’d like to change. We could call this ‘listening with kind ears!’

Maybe in that quiet time you’ll think of a new tradition for 2026, to tell family and friends how much you appreciate them and what you love about them.

Thinking of ‘kind ears’, here’s the Rilke words for you, as the New Year approaches:

“…Now I can hear the tree.

Then all went silent. But even in the silence

was signal, beginning, change.

Out of the stillness of the unbound forest,

animals came forth from dens and nests.

And it was not fear or cunning

that made them be so quiet,

but the desire to listen.”

From Sonnets to Orpheus, by Rilke.

Can you find that instinctive desire to listen to the world around you, and to yourself?

I’m currently hearing early fireworks announcing 2026, so I’ll wish you the best for the New Year, and may we meet it with ‘kind eyes and ears’ for each other.

Time to wash up now, and see if I can hear the bubbles popping above the fireworks…

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How to be less of a ‘sweaty beetroot’ in the heat, and feel as cool as a cucumber…

Another sweltering hot day in the Midlands. Some people are cool, calm & collected…

Some of us turn into a radish on legs, at anything above 21c. Today it’s been 29c, and I have definitely been part beetroot/part human!

Working as a Celebrant for the last few years, means sometimes working outdoors. I’ve learned a few tips that might help you avoid looking like any bright red fruit or vegetable. Instead let’s shuffle towards being cool as a cucumber.

So what helps?

*If we’re aiming to be more cucumber than radish, let’s start with cucumber itself. Add a few slices to your water bottle. Tuck a few sprigs of mint in there as well, or maybe a lemon slice, and chill it in the fridge overnight. It’s cheap, delicious and genuinely feels cooling to drink. 

Also someone will ask you why you have half the garden in your water bottle… then you can pass the tip along.

*More water. Use an old spray bottle, filled with tap water and a little rose water. You’ll find cheap rose water in many grocery stores, and it lasts for ages. Liberally spritz yourself all over with this home made spray, under and over your clothes, several times a day if you’re working outdoors. It’s so refreshing and helps you to cool down.

*Soak a thin cotton scarf in cold water, and drape it around the back of your neck. I then cover this with a larger patterned scarf that looks smart for a service, whilst concealing my boy scout technique for cooling the body’s core. As I type this, I have one on… blissfully cool.

*Those gel headache strips are a great thing to have just in case. When it’s truly sweltering in a 38c forecast, I stick a couple of these on my back, hidden by smart dresses. They definitely keep you a little cooler for a few hours. But keep an eye on where exactly they are, as they can move around – I’ve often been asked why I’ve got a blue rectangle stuck to my leg! 

*Finally, it’s always a good idea to have a clean handkerchief tucked somewhere, to discretely dab away the ‘sweat moustache’ that may appear when you really don’t want it to!

*Oh, and if you’re working from home, put cold water in a bowl and stick your feet in it. Deliciously cooling, and just blame any splashing sounds on ‘the mermaids’ to baffle your colleagues…

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Don’t Know Mind, forget everything you think you know…

The older we get, it’s easy to think we know it all. Or that we know more about most things.

These wrinkles are proof of my learning and wisdom, surely?

But sometimes it’s best to practice ‘Don’t Know Mind’, or ‘Beginner’s Mind’.

It’s refreshing, and it might be the best way to really see or hear what’s right in front of you. To drop everything you think you already know, and to be open to a situation. As if it’s for the first time.

To see the one you’ve loved for decades, standing here in the kitchen, as they make toast. To experience it as it truly is in this moment, bathed in rare afternoon sunlight that highlights their silver beard.

Or to notice the way your teenager guides you through a new mobile phone layout, with a confident swagger that’s new this Summer.

Or to marvel at how calmly your dog negotiates a noisy group in a cafe, despite the reactive behaviour the shelter warned you about, when you first rescued them.

Don’t Know Mind allows a tiny gap for wonder, or appreciation.

It’s also an incredibly powerful thing to help you really listen to someone, and what they’re actually telling you. It might also help you to pick up on what they’re not telling you.

As a Celebrant, I practice ‘Don’t Know Mind’ every time I meet a new couple or family. Before I knock on their door, for our first meeting, I consciously drop everything I think I know about the perfect Wedding, or Funeral. I let go of any expectations that I may have, of what they will need from me or the service I’m taking for them.

I am passionate about my work in this profession and have the reassurance of several years caring for hundreds of families, and creating beautiful ceremonies for them. 

But before I meet someone new, I put that to one side, and prepare to listen openly, with my full attention.

It’s important for me to understand everything I can about the life stories and Love Stories of everyone I meet. 

Whether I’m crafting a Wedding to celebrate a deep and abiding love, or preparing a funeral to truly honour all that a person has meant to their loved ones; each story is different.

Working like this enables me to listen deeply to the details that matter, to understand how best I can help and support the amazing human beings who are trusting me with this most important ritual in their lives.

Then I can offer my best work, drawing on the many things I do know, and all the experiences I have. Including those life stories of my own, that have earned my wrinkles… 

But I’m responding to what is needed in each individual case. I never assume I already know what is best for any couple or family.

It’s been a huge privilege to work as a Celebrant in recent years, and I continue to hone and polish my craft with each family that I care for. and learn from. That always begins with ‘Don’t Know Mind’. 

Try it for yourself, at home or at work, or if you’re watching the England Football game tonight. Just because the last game was a bit dull, don’t assume it will be the same tonight. They might be spectacular! 

Jude Bellingham could make our hearts full of joy… Let’s practice ‘Beginner’s Mind’, and watch the game as if it was the first time we’d ever seen a football game. Although that might make the Offside rule even trickier to understand…

(*Frank Ostaseski is a wonderful teacher and writer, whose book ‘The Five Invitations’ I reread every year. One of the Invitations focuses on ‘Don’t Know Mind’, so you can read more about this idea in his compassionate, wise words.)

Photo thanks to Ádám Berkecz on Unsplash

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Valentine tips: Writing about Love. What I’ve learned as a Celebrant, Poet & Radio Presenter. And why a pineapple is the perfect love token!

As a Celebrant, I listen while people light up, telling me their real life Love stories. Then I write them into bespoke ceremonies & rituals that mark the big transitions in our lives.

It’s such a privilege. 

Like Love, it also comes with a responsibility. 

To tell their true Love story and for it to touch the heart of each person gathered. We might catch a glimpse of our own love reflected in the words at a wedding, turning to snuggle our beloved, while testing our waterproof mascara… 

Love spreads like this. I would say Love is ‘contagious’, but given recent events let’s think of Love as spreading like the aroma of baked apple pie with cinnamon freckles. Or freshly cooked chips with a vinegar top note. Delicious.

Maybe you or your partner don’t like apple pie or chips, but what do you love instead? Details matter, they make things personal and real.

So think about the one you love…what’s their favourite smell, or taste? Which song do they sing aloud to on the radio? If the words you write capture some details, it will help to make the message unique & the recipient feel special. 

You’ve noticed them. We all love to be noticed, and seen & heard.

Years ago, I used to present late night Love Zone radio shows, which meant sifting through hundreds of hand written letters from listeners every week. (In the dinosaur era, we didn’t have email or texts.)

Real life love stories were stuffed into each envelope. Sometimes 3 identical letters with requests for different names, but all from the same person, declaring to each, ‘You’re the only one for me’. Being truthful is a good idea with love stuff, so you can guess where those letters ended up…

Some stories were messy & complicated, but over 7 pages of green biro scrawl, the depth of feeling was clear. Love really can be ‘The Sweetest Feeling’ as the Jackie Wilson song goes.

We always had far more letters than time in the shows to share their story, so had to choose which dedications made it to air. Some stood out clearly, often thanks to the details which made them come to life.

For your Valentine, write something personal, that only they will get. You don’t need to be Ed Sheehan or Warsan Shire, but if your partner loves the work of a singer or writer, you could quote from them.

If your first date was at the cinema, write a soppy message quoting a line from the film on a home made ‘cinema ticket’ & stream that film.

Talking of films, if you’re in love, first think about your ‘Meet Cute’, Hollywood speak for how a couple first meet. I love asking couples about how they met. They don’t always have the same answer… but you can usually see their faces change. They often blush and sneak flirty glances at each other with a beaming smile, or a filthy laugh!

Maybe just thinking about when you met your beloved has changed how you feel now, softening into a smile widening across your face as you remember.

Tap into that feeling as you pick up a biro to scribble a few thoughts down… anything you remember from those first blushes of love?

What did you notice about this person? Maybe you were nervous & had that awkward self conscious teenager feeling, despite being 42? Or you fell off a chair & talked about how giraffes have the largest hearts of all land mammals? 

That was me on all counts. Luckily he didn’t run away.

Be yourself. If you haven’t scared them off already, with clumsiness & talk of giraffe hearts, then they like you just as you are. One of the sexiest things Mark Darcy said to Bridget Jones in that film, that he liked her very much, ‘Just as you are.‘ Swoon.

‘To thine own self be true’, as some scribe from Stratford wrote. Having watched ‘Upstart Crow’ on TV., I now only see David Mitchell as William Shakespeare. 

If someone loves you, then they want YOU to shine through any words you write.

So write what you’d say to them. If you’re not a natural silver tongued wordsmith, but put up amazing shelves & always do the washing up, then write about that, as your way of showing love. 

There’s a book about the ‘5 Languages’ of Love, the first of which is ‘words of affirmation.’ But there’s probably 5 million different ways we demonstrate our love. All can be amazing. But writing a line or two about what you love about that person is going to result in a warm glow for your beloved. 

For advertisers, 14th February is all about expensive bouquets of flowers, chocolates & champagne. But it can be about pineapples & onions. 

Bear with me here… 

I remember a Grook poem from Danish mathematician & scientist Piet Hein, I read it on the bus to school one day & it’s tattooed in my memory. It’s short & sweet, like all the best poetry, as my non-poet friends say…

‘Love is like a pineapple

Sweet and undefinable.’

So you could write that on a card, and give your love a pineapple, saying ‘I pineapple you.’

A memorable Valentine, and you can serve fresh slices of pineapple, then compost the skin for zero waste.

Or how about gifting your beloved an onion?

Bear with me again…

There’s a poem called ‘Valentine’ by Carol Ann Duffy. It begins, ‘Not a red rose or satin heart. I give you an onion. It is the moon wrapped in brown paper…’ 

Search it online & quote her to your Loved one. Then chop & cook the onion later in the week. Romantic dinners often start by caramelising an onion…

The poem goes on to talk of ‘Its’ platinum loops that shrink to a wedding ring, if you like.’ An original way to propose!

If this year’s Valentine’s Day leads to a proposal, as a Celebrant, I’m always thrilled to listen to a real life love story. We could even use an onion or pineapple in your ceremony, perhaps to hold the ring?!

My Aunty Doreen got married on Valentine’s Day. Her prudent husband thought it a good way to remember the date for anniversaries & save on extra cards or flowers each year!

A heartfelt post-it note & breakfast in bed can work wonders, so no need to splash the cash. Or a bar of Montezuma’s dark chocolate with orange & geranium, sublime flavours & £2.50 from our local shop. That’s my traditional Valentine treat. Hopefully my hairy viking partner has already got one stashed away ready. 

That’s another thing – don’t expect your partner to be a mind reader. They’ve probably got a lot on their plate already & it’s not been the easiest couple of years lately. So a huge act of love is not putting pressure on the one you love to plan epic or expensive surprises, lovely though they might be. Instead you could just talk about Valentines or any other time of the year & what you’d both like to do.

Happy Valentine’s, however you’re celebrating it this year. In a relationship or happily single, I hope you feel a glow of all the love you’ve had from family, partners & friends through the years. Tuck it close to your heart, and in remembering the details, it might sneak a smile from the inside out. 

And perhaps treat yourself to a delicious pineapple.

p.s. A real life love poem is below, commissioned by Julie Boden for ‘Love in Leamington’. It mentions all true life details, from thread veins to the Giraffe heart thing. Music by the outstanding Steve Tromans. Excuse me waddling like a duck, buying a red dress on a whim just before the gig wasn’t my smartest idea, given that I don’t usually wear dresses. You see, be yourself – I should have known!

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Tutu & Wellies, a Hand fasting & cups of tea.

What to wear for the last day of July, an outdoor celebration & a mixed weather forecast? After life on endless Zooms, we’ve forgotten what to wear.

Tutu & wellies was the brilliant choice of a practical little ballerina today. Five year olds are so smart!

Wolverhampton & Essex’s finest were all dressed in their most glamorous outfits. The first glimpse of a party for over 18 months was something to relish.

The occasion was a Hand fasting & Broom Jumping for a phenomenal couple, who’ve had to postpone their wedding three times.

But they haven’t postponed their love!

It was my pleasure & honour to be their Celebrant, delivering a ceremony I’d written to celebrate their love & love story so far. And a great excuse for a party to bring the two families together.

You could sense the deep love shared by the couple and their families & friends gathered in the garden, and the love was matched by the laughter. Luckily they giggled at all the jokes I’d written, as well as the ad-libs. We all used to work together, so there was plenty of ‘material’, and the sun finally peeked through the clouds to shine. The groom had faith, as he kept his rock n roll shades on for the ceremony!

Such an uplifting afternoon, where we celebrated the love of everyone present, as well as the happy couple. Concluding with a ‘Jumping of the Broom’ by the couple, followed by jumps from friends, family & all the little ones who’d behaved beautifully throughout the ceremony. Like a mini Olympics with Wine Gums for medals.

Then before heading home, I met up with a lovely friend & former colleague. Over a few cups of tea we caught up on the last few years. Toasting her success finishing a degree in lockdown.

It’s important it is to have these ceremonies & celebrations, big or small. The bigger dressed up ones take a bit more planning, but worth it for the shared happiness.

The smaller ones, like meeting a friend for a cuppa are every bit as treasured. For many of us, something we’ve not done much of recently. Perhaps we can elevate them with a mini ceremony of our own? Even a simple ‘Cheers’ to signify the occasion.

We can remember to tell the other person how much they mean to us, how we’ve missed them and how good it is to see them.

We can wear a tutu & wellies. A cup of tea & a dance in a back garden, the simple pleasures.

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Shouting at plastic & the healing power of fried eggs…

Have you ever found yourself shouting at plastic objects? Or more precisely, shouting at a new printer you’re trying to assemble?

If so, you’ll understand why last Thursday saw me doing just that. I never shout at people, knowing that it rarely improves a situation, and usually leaves people feeling worse. But shouting is particularly ridiculous when the recipient is a collection of plastic printer parts. Despite being one of the calmest people I know, (thanks to practising mindfulness stuff for decades) I’m still a massively imperfect human being and not skilled at setting up technology.

Understatement.

After 3 hours it still stubbornly refused to print anything; instead swallowing pristine snowy sheets only to crumple and shred them like a Banksy at auction. Every possible light was flashing, to demonstrate how unhappy this machine was; affronted at the notion of printing a simple document on a single A4.

Brokering a peace treaty, where both sides agree to take a break, I escaped to the kitchen. The simple comforting pleasure of a golden sun in an opaque cloud gently sizzling in a pan, with a flatbread into the toaster. Add a squirt of tomato & chilli sauce, a freckle dusting of coarse black pepper and behold the magnificence of the ultimate healing concoction. A fried egg sandwich.

After devouring the messy remedy and washing up, things seemed a little better. I could laugh at how absurd this printer drama was. I wasn’t shouting at the printer, but myself, frustrated by my own technical ineptitude. Us humans are highly skilled at reminding ourselves of our many past failures, and projecting this into the future as proof that we’ve never been any good with certain things and never will be.

Not helpful though, to wallow like this. Letting go of the past stories of how rubbish I am with computers, just for a moment, enabled me to stay in the present and find some optimism. Instead of being frustrated, I could marvel at the technological advances of the world since my first printer encounter at work 30 years ago.

There was now something on the table that might… one day… allow me to print at home. And not just in black & white, but in colour. Imagine the photos and cards to send to family and friends, and the bespoke scripts for my work as a Celebrant. Weddings, Handfastings, Vow Renewals and Baby namings; Memorials and Funerals; services that sum up all encompassing loves and lifetimes. Things even more magnificent than the fried egg sandwich.

And it will print plans, ideas and running orders for Mindfulness sessions- the thought of which makes me giggle. The printer can be a wonderful teacher and reminder of all things Mindfulness related. How to accept the world calmly as it really is at any given moment, and make peace with it. Things aren’t always as we’d wish them to be, especially in 2020, but by staying present with reality in this moment, we can find our way forwards one tiny bit at a time. Or one flashing light at a time, as I approached the printer again.

With a few simple breathing techniques to remain calm, this time I work with the printer. Instead of shouting at it, I decide to ask it politely if we can work together and patiently resolve each problem in turn. Diagnosing each strange flashing light and attempting the individual solution in turn finally reaps rewards. Printer inks removed and reinserted. Paper tray removed and replaced. Several times. Switched on and off. Several times. Log-in reattempted and Set-up repeated. Several times. Finally the swirling lights that echo the Northern Lights in their awe and wonder, as the printer finally emits hopeful spluttering sounds. A single A4 splutters out of the printer, anointed by ink on both sides.

Hallelujah!

‘Thank you, and sorry for shouting earlier’, I whisper to the printer. Hoping this is the last time we’ll experience this hiccup in our long and happy relationship that lies ahead. If we do hit a bump in the road, I’ll remember to signal Time Out for a fried egg sandwich.

*If you don’t eat eggs, I can recommend scrambled tofu, with turmeric to keep that golden glow, and a splurge of chilli sauce of course.

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Still water…

I once wrote a poem called ‘Still Water’. Don’t worry, I’ve forgotten most of it – so you’re spared. But there was a line about ‘not being able to see yourself in running water, only still.’ As we’re still in semi-locked-down, land-locked Midlands , not much chance of seeing a home cut fringe reflected in any water bigger than our Aldi birdbath.

It’s as if we’ve all stumbled into ‘The Reflection’, don’t worry, it’s not another poem, you can relax. Nor an introspective Escape Room. The Reflection is an important time in many ceremonies and rituals you’ll have been present at. Probably dressed in your finest outfit, surrounded by relatives you only see at functions like weddings, baby naming or end of life occasions.

Times when we all press the ‘pause’ button on our hectic schedules, stop looking at our phones and all focus our attention on the stuff that really matters in this world. You know, that love thing. Yes, Love. Steadfast, soppy, romantic, frustrating, enduring, evolving, the thing they write songs about, sonnets about… don’t worry, no poems here, I promised. If pilates helps exercise your core muscles, ceremonies remind us to focus on what’s at the core of our worlds. Love.

Having trained in 2019 to be a Civil Celebrant, with the phenomenal people at FOIC, I learned about the importance of building a ‘reflection time’ into a service. A way of uniting those present, perhaps to reflect on how each of us can help nurture and guide the baby at a naming ceremony. Or witnessing a wedding, the power of seeing two individuals pledge their love to each other, and taking time to treasure those we live our lives alongside. Or at the end of a life, as we say goodbye to someone we’ve loved. A chance to remember good times shared, giving thanks that we knew them, and vowing to live life in honour of their memory. Three months reflecting like this would be bliss…

But this virus had us dressed not in our finest wedding outfits, but in comfy t-shirts & pyjama bottoms, working from home and juggling home schooling. This virus shut shops, cafes, gyms, cinemas, theatres and pubs.  But the hardest to bear – worse than any home haircut – this virus banned gatherings of families and friends for months. Having to keep our distance from loved ones has been the toughest thing to endure. Dropping shopping off on the doorstep, and not being able to hug our favourite people in the universe (including Jason Momoa) has just felt wrong. We’ve had three months of the ‘pause’ button pressed on our normal day to day life, without feeling the benefit of a tranquil reflection.

The virus didn’t guide us gently through the rituals we know and trust in a good ceremony. The calendar didn’t give us several months notice, and reminders to get the suit from the dry cleaners. We didn’t gradually take our seats at appointed times, chatting quietly amongst the rows gathering before the music nudged us into readiness. Nobody took charge welcoming us with warmth, humour and family stories, as we united in our sacred purpose. Celebrating love is the role of the Celebrant, and we’ve been unable to serve, with weddings and baby naming cancelled, and funerals curtailed.

But as some restrictions are lifting, and we nudge our way tentatively into the new world of Summer 2020, there has been an evolution. However subtle. We’ve united in our isolation, and connected online more than ever before. Shopping for neighbours, Zooming family quizzes and checking in on single friends. We all know ‘how fragile we are’, as the song by Sting reminded us. And we all know that Love is all everything pop songs, films and greetings cards told us, and so much more.

People are the thing we’ve missed more than hairdressers and clothes shopping. As we ‘bubble up’ and venture into gardens to share picnics and laughter, we truly know how much we care about each other. Maybe the stillness of the outside world meant that under the surface, beneath the worry and fear, amidst home schooling & home office-ing, we did get a chance to reflect. We are emerging differently, focusing our attention on what really matters, or I should say, on those that really matter.

Now it’s up to us, to nurture those connections more than ever, and celebrate those we love. It doesn’t need to be champagne in fancy crystal flutes, just a cuppa and a jam tart will do. But next time you’re able to sit 2 metres from someone you’ve missed for months, propose a toast and create a ritual of your own. Tell the other one what they mean to you, how much you love and cherish them, and enjoy a moment of reflection together. Before the tea goes cold. Cheers!

©2026 Charlie Jordan