Letting Go, Leaning In: Creativity, Ageing and the Power of Shared Experience

As part of my recent experience of being an online writer in residence (OWR) for Autumn Voices, I was invited, along with my fellow OWRs to deliver a presentation at a round table event in Stirling. Autumn Voices is a Scottish-based organisation, founded by the late Robin Lloyd-Jones in 2017, that seeks to celebrate creativity in later life. Everyone aged 60 and over are welcome, and the aim is to dispel many of the negative stereotypes associated with getting older. The focus instead is on positive ageing and the tonic provided by creativity in later life.

As ever, public speaking is a daunting task, but I was delighted to be in the company of Ken Cockburn and the Board of Autumn Voices, Mark Cunningham, our communications wizard, and the wonderfully warm and talented Moira Forsyth, Sukhema and Anna Levin. The audience were so generous and supportive- it all made the task so much easier!

For this blog post, I will attempt to put down some of my thoughts on the theme of ‘letting go’ and on creative ageing in general. I have no idea what came out of my mouth on the day! I was vaguely aware at the end that I hadn’t consulted my notes as much as I should have, which is never a good sign!

The theme of “letting go” opened up an unexpectedly rich and generous conversation, not only with my fellow OWRs but also with workshop participants and those in the audience; the recognition that, over a lifetime, we accumulate more than memories: we gather objects, identities, habits, bodies, stories and emotional cargo.

For me, the theme became personal through my own creative practice and my work with charities. It set the tone for a sequence of workshops that invited participants to consider what we carry, what we release and what we grow into.

Workshop 1: Letting Go of What We Carry

My first workshop asked participants to think about material objects they hold dear and to imagine what it might cost to lay them down. These were not simply exercises in decluttering; they were invitations to examine attachment, memory and the emotional charge held in everyday things.

Workshop 2: Letting Go of the Body We Once Had

The second workshop invited people to reflect on the body they once had and the lives that had shaped them. Using landscape as metaphor, participants described the passage of time through water, gardens and wild places, creating vivid images of who they had been and how they had arrived at the present moment.

Workshop 3: Letting Go Into Who We Have Become

The final workshop turned towards ritual and transformation. Participants even made “spell poems”, an approach that may sound unusual on paper, but in the room became playful, moving and completely alive. The focus shifted from loss to becoming: not simply what we let go of, but who we allow ourselves to become next.

A Courageous and Creative Response

As ever, I am grateful for the way participants welcomed me as a facilitator and how courageous they were in stepping up to the creative challenges. Their openness made the work easy and fulfilling and reminded me that creativity is always a two-way street.

I was bowled over not only by the technical skill and creative confidence in the room, but by the willingness of participants to address difficult personal topics in verse and prose. Whether they were writing fiction or personal recollection, the wealth of experience was unmistakable.

And this is where ageing becomes a superpower. There is no substitute for the richness of lived experience. To witness it, listen to it and be even a small part of it is enriching for the reader, the listener and the wider audience. Creativity brings us together as humans – across ages, stories and all the things we learn, eventually, to let go of.

Thanks again to Ken and the Board of Autumn Voices for all the good they do and for letting me be a part of it all.

The ‘Letting Go’ anthology, a wonderful testament to the creative endeavours of our workshop participants.

Image credit: ‘The Jump’ by Louise Humphrey

What happens in Cumbernauld…

Put over a hundred writers in a hotel for a weekend and what do you get? A wonderful opportunity to greet old friends, meet new ones and generally be around your tribe with the same vibe. Yes, it’s that time of year again- my annual jaunt to the Scottish Association of Writers’ Conference at the Westerwood Hotel in Cumbernauld.

Some members of Angus Writers’ Circle (on their best behaviour!)

I actually booked an extra night with my chums, as a way of winding down and separating the world of work and family from the ‘serious’ mission of the weekend- to confirm who we are as writers, because sometimes it all gets a bit lost in the mists of modern living!

I took some spare minutes to edit my current manuscript The Back of Beyond and generally unpack my case and drift from bar to lounge before it was time for registration. Each year we get a lovely tote bag as a memento of our weekend, and of course there is the book shop, because you cannot have too many books! There’s also the traditional room party…I was mortified at the amount of gins-in-a-tin that graced my bin the next day…

There’s no party like an AWC room parteee!

The weekend is packed with competitions, workshops and opportunities to talk about everything writing related. Our speakers and adjudicators were amazing, my favourites being the lovely Marion Todd (author of the Clare Mackay series), talented writer and academic Conner McAleese and the wonderful playwright John Binnie. I would definitely recommend Caroline Logan’s workshop- who knew making worldbuilding maps with rice could be so much fun?!

We members of Angus Writers’ Circle acquitted ourselves well with a total of 14 placed competition entries and two trophies- well done to all. We are quite competitive (and quite argumentative) especially when it comes to the Big Conference Quiz! I was absolutely chuffed to win the Dorothy Dunbar Rosebowl for Poetry (adjudicated by Alison Chisholm) with my poem ‘Not Black and White’, a tribute to the magpies in my garden. Here are a few lines from it:

At night their peculiar cant frightens me.

They speak together in strange tongues,

planning murder by moonlight.

So, it’s all over for another year. Time to start saving for 2027. If you would like to find out more about SAW and the conference, click here. You can join as an individual member and take part in some of the competitions and maybe even attend the conference next year. Writing is a lonely business, so it helps to have friends in the right places!