“Vulnerability is the birthplace of innovation, creativity and change,” wrote American scholar Brené Brown, TED-talk A-lister, and author of Daring Greatly and Braving the Wilderness among other books. Brown also said, “Only when we are brave enough to explore the darkness will we discover the infinite power of our light.” Brown could have been describing Carolyn Gould’s own journey.
This journey began in Surrey before her family moved to St Leonard’s and then to Hastings, where Carolyn grew up. At 16, Carolyn left school and began work as a dental nurse, later going to college to qualify.
So far so normal, and no sign of the radical change of course her life would take.
Carolyn married, and not long after along came her son Charlie. Then in 2019 the “darkness” Brown describes descended without warning, with the death of her husband.
She is commendably open about this, as befits someone who has used this grievous blow so early in life to remake herself. So while there is sadness and grief in this story there are also lessons and light, lessons which Carolyn learned and turned, effectively, into a role which is designed to bring that light and sense of well-being into others’ lives.
Carolyn is herself now an author – her books can be found on Amazon but for readers of Rye News you’d better go to Ethel Loves Me, in Rye. Because you’ll be supporting two local businesses, and you can also buy more of Carolyn’s output in the form of her beautiful photography, cards and crafts.
Her pursuit of recovery turned out to be walking. Slowly. Walking, as she puts it, “mindfully”. I know – some of us feel a bit iffy about what might be called “woo woo”. And Carolyn acknowledges this but points out that most of us walk determinedly, whether or not we actually need to get somewhere fast. Walking slowly, observing nature, absorbing it, whether you like it or not, is mindful. Almost transcendent once you get used to it and slow down.
“I walked a lot as a kid,” says Carolyn. “The beach, out in the country, through the town. We were always walking.” But when her husband died, the dominant sense was of exhaustion alongside the grief. “I had always walked fast,” she says. “That was just what I did. But then, suddenly, I couldn’t. I simply had to slow down. And because I had to walk slowly, I became aware of what was around me and what it did for me. I was so busy in my head that slowing down gave me a break – a break to experience sight, sound, immersion in my surroundings. It did take time, but I knew I had found what you might call my own grief therapy.”
Her experience led her to understand how her brain and body interacted, that she could function better.
While this could easily just be a story of one person’s journey to peace, it didn’t stop there. Carolyn published A Widow’s Walk because she had also realised that there was a lack of external support for people in her position, no information given on where to turn for support and help. So eventually she wrote the book to help others.” And that led to her next book Walking for Wellbeing, then My Walks in Pictures. Carolyn also runs workshops and walks – slow ones, observing ones, walks that allow participants to be in the moment.
Combined with enchanting photography, her books then took her further and the photos became actual things – place mats, framed prints, greeting cards and postcards.
Like walking slowly her experience had evolved over time into something she could share with others, visually, experientially, and (forgive the intrusion of the word) commercially. It remains a central part of Carolyn’s life and has become a large role in her life now. She said finally as we talked, “Thinking about yourself isn’t easy. It can feel unnatural. We think that being busy, having a noisy mind is just standard. But that’s not wellness. And if you’re not well, in the emotional sense of the word, then you can’t be all that you should be.”
Image Credits: Christopher Broadbent , Carolyn Gould .