There are so many reasons to shrink down and hide. - Our flooding rivers, and what they mean for our homes and community - Thin snow pack—what will fire season look like this year? - Political instability - Disagreements and ruptures in our relationships - Past traumas stored in our bodies And yet if there's one thing our world requires of us, it's our continued sensitivity: - Our children need our attention and presence - Our planet is crying out for care - Our beloveds, so we can communicate, collaborate, and respond mutually and meaningfully - Our organizations and communities demanding our fullest capacity to solve real problems together We've all tried the common-sense advice to keeping ourselves resourced: - Eating a balanced diet - Reading inspiring books - Meditating - Therapy But the list of things we need to do for our "self-care" gets longer everyday, and the accumulation of little pains presses on us until we realize we've gone numb. You can't be blamed for pushing down the pain, changing the subject, and just *keeping on*. What if there were another way forward? A way of tapping into overlooked communal resources? A way of opening our hearts and staying tender? # What is Staying Tender? Staying Tender is a five-hour, in-person gathering. It's rooted in the basic idea that when we're able to stay with the pain in our lives we open to new ways of being and seeing; when we can be seen and witnessed, without judgment, soothing, or someone trying to fix us, magical things happen. No longer facing this alone, we open to new ways of seeing, feeling, and being with one another. This is not a workshop. There is no curriculum. I am not a therapist, and do not offer any frameworks or 5-step plans to a better life. I'm a second-generation, trained, and experienced facilitator. Together we create the conditions—through guided practice, honest conversation, silence, and shared presence—for the grief, fatigue, and unnamed weight many of us carry to be met by community rather than managed alone. --- # What to expect You'll arrive and be welcomed into a held space. Over the course of about five hours, we'll move through a series of practices—some in pairs, some in small groups, some as a full circle, some solo. Sometimes there's speaking. Sometimes there's not. There will be moments of stillness, others of movement, and time to simply *be* in the presence of others who have chosen to show up. You don't need to prepare anything or bring anything except yourself. You don't need to know what you're "grieving". You don't need to "be ready." The container is designed to meet you wherever you are. You can expect to leave feeling lighter—not because the weight has disappeared, but because you've been reminded that you were never meant to carry it alone and, in fact, we cannot do without this pain. A light vegan meal is shared together as part of the day. --- # Who this is for This is for all of us carrying the weight of our time, station, and place. - anyone facing burnout or compassion fatigue - anyone holding more than they think they can - Some types of people who might have particular benefit from this work include (but is not limited to): - healthcare workers - community organizers and activists - teachers - people working in the environmental sector - therapists and counsellors - parents - caregivers >[!Note] A note on acute grief: >acute grief—a specific lost loved one, lost child, etc.—is welcome in this space. However, acute grief is not the focus of this event. If you have a question about this, please reach out. --- ## Where does this come from? This work is inspired by the movement of grief-tending brought to the West by Malidoma and Sobonfu Somé of the Dagara People of Burkina Faso. It draws explicitly on the teachings, practices, and processes of [[Joanna Macy's "Work that Reconnects"]], the community-activism philosophy of Peter Block, the critique of modernity a la Vanesa Machado de Oliviera and others. # Who are you? My name is Cam. You read a bit about me [[About Me|here]] or reach out directly with questions.