An opportunity nearly missed

I awoke on Saturday morning with a head still swimming in red wine. I had consigned the weekend to gentle recovery, having heard nothing from Chris Pellett, the stonemason with whom, some months earlier, I had eagerly booked a weekend course.

I brushed my teeth and, with only moments left before the possibility of making it to the start of a weekend of hammering, tried him one last time. He answered. I inwardly cursed. He told me I was expected. Now, on Monday, I consider myself highly fortunate.

I had booked myself on Chris’s course to, with his blessing, learn a few skills we can use for a future event format. After arriving a little way through the introduction and learning the basics, my earlier reluctance to attend dissolved. Holding a stone chisel felt almost instinctive, having carved wood in one form or another over the years. What surprised all of us, even those without any carving experience, was how therapeutic the slow removal of cool stone became as we gently tapped away. Chris, a natural teacher, was keen to impress that it was the process that mattered, not the outcome. This allowed us all the confidence to chip away with smiles, rather than with the furrowed brow of one toiling under expectation. I see this effect at our events, where the act of doing – not the finished product – is what people value.

Having spent nearly five years since Taste of the Vine learning new skills so we may pass them on at Wild Weald, I am now driven by opening the door to new experiences for people, without burdening them with the weight of what can be achieved by a lifetime’s application. I’ve always found that the process, rather than the result, is where the richness lies. This is particularly true if you are organising an event for a group, be it teambuilding, respite, or social prescription. Group events that build – whether teams, health, or connection – require the removal of performance anxiety and the strength that comes from discussing shared experience.

Chris is one of only two people teaching this ancient craft left in Sussex, and his limited courses are popular. Having been a stonemason for over forty years, he mentioned he may be retiring in the next few years. I realise I might have attended one of the last chances to learn from someone with the patience to convey this ancient art. If you can get a space on one of his courses, do so soon. It will be a while before our experience is ready, but the stone chisels are on their way and I’m foraging for suitable sandstone in our woods under the hornbeam – the leaves of which were the inspiration for my carving.

www.albournestone.co.uk