
This week, we are running a pop up shop over the water from where we live, in a place called Gourock. The shop space is on a street full of galleries so always attracts people who love art, as well as the day trippers and the lunch hour wanderers. It has been pretty busy today, with a smattering of sales which were welcome, but I can honestly say that the conversations I have found myself immersed in have been much more important.

A social worker, beaten up by the job, unable to hold back tears. We spent ages talking about the strain and stress of it all and the skew we feel towards kindness in a system that has no recognition of what this look like sometimes.
A pair of former hospice workers, out to meet old colleagues.
A jazz musician fresh from a walk around Arran talking about the frustrations of the music business.
A childrens outreach worker, whose caring heart means that she is the one from her team who does the birthdays and the get-well gifts.
A teacher rejoicing that one of her colleagues has found her way towards something better than the strain of her current job, so she was looking for a gift to send her on her way.
Then there are those discussions that I will call ‘spiritual but not religious’.
Suddenly I find myself sharing the deepest parts of life with others. Perhaps some words in a piece of art have unlocked something. The shape of something half forgotten which then bursts out into the space like a brightly painted trout. I have had several of those today and each one has felt precious. In a world where so many people have left Church and formal religion behind, perhaps art and poetry – even pottery – might be one of the ways we can still connect, first with each other, then with something else, that I would tentatively still call god – even if she takes shapes I no longer know or wish to define.
So I am grateful for our little shop. I even think there will be people I have met today who I will meet again, who will become part of my journey as I hope to be of theirs.
I like this retail business.
