May We Gather

Four Wednesday afternoons in Hudson. Starting May 6th. 3-4:30pm.

The world is asking us to hold a lot right now. Heavy things. And then keep showing up for our lives as if we aren't holding them.

Most of us are doing exactly that — showing up for our communities, our families, our work — while also moving through something private and unnamed. A job that ended and took our identity with it. A new chapter that requires a version of ourselves we haven't fully grown into yet. A loss we haven't had time to mark. A door that closed, or opened, before we were ready.

We're expected to keep moving. This is a place to stop for a minute.

May We Gather is a small group gathering where we will get comfortable in the in-between. We’re not rushing through it. We’re not performing okayness. We’re being honest about where we are — so we can actually show up for ourselves, for each other, and for this community, with everything we've got.

Spring is the right moment for this. The world is insisting on newness and action.

You don't have to move through transition without marking it.

I ran this group over the winter. The transitions in the room were all different — a new business, retirement, motherhood, the unexpected end of a career. Nothing in common on paper. But the feelings were the same. That particular mushiness of not knowing who you are right now. Of being in the messy middle — between what was and what's next. Of grieving, and yearning, and wanting to be witnessed as you you leave something behind, as you grow into something new.

By the last session, people had found their feet under them again. Not because the transition was over. Because they'd been seen inside it. They’d learned new language and skills to stay with themselves in that space. And they did it together.

Each session includes sharing, discussion, reflection, and simple ritual. Between sessions, I'll send you something to keep the thread alive — readings, videos, and writing prompts.

You'll leave this series feeling less alone in your transition. More rooted. More witnessed. More capable of being present to what's actually happening — rather than rushing past it toward whatever comes next.

I've been writing about transition, memory, and belonging at All My Dead & Living Things for a year. This work is the in-person version of that. The same intention, the same honesty, a smaller container.

This is for people who are between things. Who are tired of moving through it alone. Who are ready to be honest about where they actually are.

The details:

  • Four Wednesday afternoons: May 6th, 13th, 20th, and 27th.

  • 3 to 4:30pm

  • Hudson, NY (location announced shortly).

  • 12 people.

  • $125 for the series.

We name it. We honor it. Together.