Plus ça change on Mars and Venus

IMG_1023In the Nineties, dare I say so, we all read it.  In fact we read two of them: ‘Men are From Mars, Women are from Venus’, and ‘Mars and Venus on a Date.’

This was a hotly anticipated ‘sermon’ at The School of Life: An audience with John Gray – author of those books.

Back in the day we’d looked to him for guidance in a dating world where we were all a bit confused. As working women we’d been told we could have it all – however those paths to high flying careers had been littered with obstacles, one of which was a conundrum re our relationships with men – or more specifically male and female ‘roles.’

My cousin smiled: “I wonder how he’ll address it today – we’re twenty years on; we didn’t even have the internet back then, let alone smart phones and app dating.”

Conway Hall was busy, sun flitted momentarily past large paned windows on the ceiling.  Hundreds of women (and a few men) sat on the edge of their seats.

After the customary sing-a-long hymn, he came bounding onto the stage. The applause was heartfelt before he said a word – an indication of the bond created by so many conversations back then in a world where we lived in rented flats, had drinks after work, and attended multiple parties on a Saturday night.

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A Schooling in Life

img_0198To my great cost, literally, I have discovered The School of Life.  Wandering into their home on Marchmont Street in central London last night I was in no mood for a pre-booked workshop on ‘How To Realise Your Potential’ but, in for a penny, in for another £55 hole in my bank account.

Earlier on in the day, attending a funeral service, I’d heard a reading from Ecclesiastes – A Time for Everything: Joy and pain, laughter and tears, speaking and silence.  Each emotion has an opposite; the only thing is sometimes one loses touch with the positive ones.

I sat at the front, despite my mood, tricking myself into participating. We were given an icebreaker to start which entailed talking to the person next to us about what underlies our desire to reach our potential.  My heart inwardly sank.

“Death and ageing” I reluctantly said to a smiling face sitting opposite me.  “There’s so much of it about, there’s so much illness, it makes me panic about not realising my potential in time.”
“That’s beautiful” my School of Life class mate responded.
I looked at her askance. “Really?”
“Yes, it’s brave of you to vocalise it, to me a complete stranger. Mine is that I feel I’m in the wrong job and I don’t seem to be able to leave it.”

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Sunday School

img_4733People smiled at each other in the lengthy queue for an early cuppa at the Cecil Sharpe House café.  Earthy wooden tables decorated a sparse room warmed by the buzz of conversation and the bang-bang of the barista’s coffee work.

“Is that the door to sorrow or are my eyes deceiving me?” I turned to look at the owner’s voice and noticed him glancing towards a handwritten sign above a door not too far away.  I followed his gaze and burst out laughing.  “Um, I don’t think so!  But having said that I can’t work it out either – is it ‘Storrou’”?
“Time for an eye test I think” came the reply. “Anyway whatever it is, I don’t want to go there.” Between more joking and laughter, we discussed the virtues of our morning venue and the talk we were about to attend there. “I’ve heard Ruby speak before in Ross on Wye. She was good” he said. img_4724

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