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Menopause and Mining your Diamond


1 Minute Read

Today we do not expect young Western women to start their periods without education yet many women find themselves approaching Menopause with no idea of what is happening, unsure where to turn, hiding symptoms and feelings to their own detriment and to the detriment of those around them.

If we look at the baby boomers, we were the first generation of women to have clear access to our own bank accounts, birth control, divorce, university education and so much more. We are the mothers who have hopefully taught our daughters not to be ashamed of their bodies and menstruation. We are the women who have fought for rights that allow us to access sexual health services, equal pay and we still have work to do.

Now it is the time to shine the light on Menopause and equally important perimenopause. Menopause is the time when a woman has not bleed for an entire year. The peri-menopause can be anything from one or two years before this event or even as much as ten years prior to that last bleed.

Perimenopause for some women is a walk in the park but for others, it can be a roller coaster with maybe only one or two symptoms but sometimes many more.

There are at least 35 symptoms to ‘choose’ from and it is possible that you will experience at the minimum a couple. To understand what is happening to our bodies we need to be able to recognise that perimenopause is a rite of passage, it is normal and when given access to the right information we can make this a transition to celebrate.

It is only now that we are growing in numbers that we are able to challenge attitudes such as this:

A menopausal woman is ‘an unstable oestrogen starved’ woman who is responsible for ‘untold misery of alcoholism, drug addiction, divorce and broken homes’
Brooklyn GYN Robert Wilson 1966

So if this was the general attitude in the 60’s and 70’s when our mothers or Grandmothers were hitting menopause how are things changing today?

Today the wonderful news is, just like menstruation, we are starting to talk about it in mixed circles, at work, with our girlfriends, in front of our children.

No need to fan ourselves discretely, we can name it, it’s called a ‘hot flush’ and yes we are sleeping with the bedroom window open in the middle of winter and no we are not ‘fading’ or going into the ‘good night’ gently. We are wearing what we want, embracing our silver hair, we are starting new careers, we are celebrating our wisdom and most of all we are talking about that once taboo subject and making it a passage worth celebration.

However, before that can happen for all women there is still a lot of work to be done and as ‘Elders’ we have a duty to own this time and reframe it so those younger women coming behind us can have a healthy attitude to ageing and embrace the wisdom that comes with the territory.

As we menopause, our womb shrinks to an almost prepubescent size. During our menstrual years amongst the many and varied services our uterus provides, is a service of elimination. Not just of womb lining but of toxins from our body which is only one of the reasons why the quality of our bleed will change from month to month.

Once menopaused we are no longer bleeding so it makes perfect sense for the uterus to shrink down and thus leave no space for toxins to accumulate. This is part of the process of perimenopause and comes with changing hormones, changing feelings, changing body shape and changing needs.

This is a time when we may not recognise our selves and it may be equally difficult for those around us to recognise us too.

This is a time for us to retreat and spend time doing things for ourselves, to ask our selves questions we have not had space to dream of until now. This is a time to change our priorities, to create space just for our selves, just because we can.

If we allow ourselves the sacred space of retreat we will unearth what it is we need, we will dig up our old dreams, the ones that got forgotten in the rush to adulthood and responsibilities of life.

Diamonds are created in the earth by intense heat and pressure and so it is with our wombs. Intense heat and pressure, the compression of our uterus, the opportunity for change give us a diamond of our own. A bright shining light right in our centre which can be a light to shine for all those women coming behind us, a light to shine for those who can recognise it and a brilliance to illuminate our own lives each and every day.

If you would like to know more about my work you may enjoy my workshop. For more information take a look at www.hilarylewin.com, find me on Facebook or sign up on Eventbrite here – Menopause Mining For Diamonds

AofA Interview with Nuala OSullivan: Women over 50 Film Festival


12 Minute Read

Could you tell us about WOFFF and why you created it?

Women Over 50 Film Festival (WOFFF) champions and showcases the work of older women on screen and behind the camera with an annual short film festival and year-round events and film screenings.

Our next festival, WOFFF18, is 20 – 23 September at Picturehouse Duke of York’s, Brighton and Depot, Lewes. We’ll be screening two feature films, 58 short films, as well as hosting workshops, panel events, talks, filmmaker Q&As and an evening banquet for festival audiences, filmmakers and guests.

WOFFF addresses the ageism and sexism many women face in the film industry and in so many other walks of life. We screen films celebrating older women on both sides of the camera. We believe inclusive spaces to watch films together and conversations between generations of women can help make older and younger women feel less isolated and feel more connected to each other and to their surroundings and communities.

I’d been a writer and producer (mainly for radio and theatre) for a number of years when I wrote and produced a short film, Microscope, about a middle-aged woman examining her life and marriage, when I was in my early 50s myself.

With my producer’s hat on I started going to short film festivals to see where I thought the film might fit. At the film festivals, I found I wasn’t seeing many people who looked like me on the screen and, after screenings, amongst the people in the bar afterward talking about the films we’d just watched, I wasn’t seeing many people who looked like me either. I found I was often the oldest person in the room, and usually the oldest women. Not many people talked to me; I felt pretty much on my own; like people weren’t really seeing me; I felt lonely and isolated – which is the exact opposite of how I expected to feel in a roomful of people who had the same interest and passion in storytelling and film as me.

It got me thinking about questions like: Who’s not in the room? Who’s not running film festivals? Who’s not behind the camera? Who’s not on the screen? Then, over a pint in the Marlborough Pub in Brighton one night, I was talking to my pal, Maggi, about how I was feeling about my film and film festivals, and Maggi said, ‘Well, bugger that! Let’s just start our own film festival.”

The word I’d like to highlight from that story from back in 2014, with the knowledge I have now, is “just”!

How are you personally connected to the film industry?

My background is mostly in writing and producing. I worked for the BBC World Service for many years and created, wrote and produced an online soap opera to help people learn English. So I think story telling’s in my blood! And my days as a producer certainly helped me in creating and setting up WOFFF. I’m connected to the film industry now as a programmer and screener of films but before I started WOFFF I didn’t have any particular connection except that I’d always loved films and I’d always loved cinema. Still do.

I see Greta Scacchi is a supporter – how did that happen?

Greta grew up in Sussex and WOFFF is based in Brighton and Lewes so there’s a local connection there. Greta has been a WOFFF champion for a number of years. She said recently, “I’m proud to have been an early supporter of the Women Over Fifty Film Festival before the subject of women in the film industry became such a huge public issue. WOFFF has always been ahead of the curve in its celebration of the unique voice of older women in film and I am delighted to continue supporting the work of such a great festival.”

I think movements like #TimesUp and #MeToo have brought issues like sexism and ageism to the fore in the film industry and it’s great that see stars like Greta and Joely Richardson, Amanda Donohoe and Denise Welch all pledging their support for WOFFF.

And if you’re looking for a bit of star attraction at this year’s festival, we’ve got a great line up – stars of Downton’s Kevin Doyle (downstairs Joseph Molesley) in READY TO GO by Lynda Reiss and Samantha Bond (upstairs Lady Rosamund) in LADY M by Tammy Riley-Smith. You can also see Jane Asher in THE VISITOR by Duncan Roe; Sara Stewart in ROMY by Ornella Hawthorn Gardez;

Lynn Cohen in ARTEMIS & THE ASTRONAUT by A. L. Lee and Rhea Perlman in THE MATCHMAKER by Leonora Pitts.

You celebrate older women on both sides of the camera – how do you make sure both are covered?

We make sure both sides of the camera are covered by asking filmmakers to follow this one simple rule that we’ve had in place since Women Over 50 Film Festival launched in 2015 – every film we screen has to have a woman over 50 at the heart of the piece on screen or a woman over 50 behind the camera in one of the core creative roles (writer, director or producer).

The beauty of that rule is that it makes WOFFF a really open and accessible festival because everyone’s welcome – older women and everyone else too. A 17-year-old boy can make a documentary about his 57-year-old grandma and that film is welcome at WOFFF. In our first festival in 2015, we screened LOVELY ALICE POET a film made by two young trans men (Fox Fisher and Lewis Hancox) about the older, trans poet, Alice Denny. To me, that sums up what WOFFF is about. Everyone’s welcome to submit a film to WOFFF and everyone’s welcome to come to WOFFF. As long as you want to be part of the conversation about older women, as long as you’re interested in what it means to be an older woman living in the world today, we want to see at you at WOFFF.

What sort of subjects are covered in the films you show?

The sort of subjects are… us! We screen films that portray older women as we are. We’re human – same as anyone else. We love and hate and have affairs. We can be vicious and proud and generous. We work, we’re unemployed, we retire. We have holidays and arthritis and sex – sometimes all at the same time.

One of the many joys of a short film programme is there’s something for everyone so at WOFFF you can expect animation, drama, documentary and experimental films, and a great range of film subjects too – films about jealousy, a teenager with four lesbian mums, migration, and a bank robbery. We have films from Britain and Ireland, as well as from the US, Canada, Australia, Iran, Taiwan, France, Italy and Turkey. We’re a truly international film festival

I saw that one was called Rebel Menopause from last year?

That was the documentary judges’ top choice in last year’s festival. It’s a fantastic film by Adele Tulli about Thérèse Clerc. Therese was a French, bisexual, feminist who died in 2016. She was in her 80s when this documentary was made about her and one of the things she said in the film which I really loved was this: “I can say I’ve had a great life and that it’s been an amazing time. So while gynecologists talk about menopause as if a woman’s life is over, I say to them ‘No, this is when a woman’s life starts.’” Her words really resonate with me – I love being older. I feel genuinely liberated about what I say, what I do, how I look. I’m in one of the most creative periods of my life, I’m engaged and excited by the work I’m doing and the projects I’m involved with. I can’t recommend getting older highly enough. I think Thérèse’s words really are ones to live by! It’s a wonderful film and I’d encourage everyone to see it if they get the chance.

And you were telling me about one about following some end of life doulas in their work?

We’re screening a documentary in this year’s festival at Depot in Lewes called HOLDING SPACE by Rebecca Kenyon.

HOLDING SPACE is an intimate, observational documentary about preparing for death, told through the connection between a dying person and their end of life doula. The film is structured around a series of conversations, and the film finds both poetry and unexpected humour in this most universal of experiences. By witnessing three people on the threshold between life and death, the film asks: if you knew you were dying, how would you prepare to let go?

And workshops?

We have five workshops lined up for this year’s festival – a mixture of ones aimed at filmmakers and ones aimed more at our festival audience.

One of the workshops is on after the screening of Holding Space with Aly Dickinson from End of Life Doula UK. Aly is one of the doulas featured in HOLDING SPACE and she’ll be exploring with workshop participants the role of a doula at the end stages of life.

Our other workshops include How to Shoot a Film on Your Smart Phone, A Movement and Dance session which is inclusive and open to all abilities, and a talk by Dr Deborah Jermyn called “About time: Ageing women, (in)visibility and the ‘old lady revolution’ in Fabulous Fashionistas (film by Sue Bourne, 2013)”. This workshop will reference another short film that’s screening at WOFFF18 – THE PAST IS ANOTHER COUNTRY by Magda Rakita. Magda’s short doc features one of the original “Fabulous Fashionistas”, Bridget Sojourner, from the Sue Bourne feature documentary of the same name.

Are the films you show mostly shorts? Why is that?

I think a short film is different from a feature-length one in the way that a short story is a different work of art from a novel.

I like the variety that a short film programme can offer and I love that screening short films gives us more opportunity to showcase more work by older women.

But we still love feature films at WOFFF and this year we’re screening two of them – a launch-night film and a closing-night film.

We’re opening WOFFF18 with a Sussex premiere of the Sundance documentary HALF THE PICTURE by Amy Adrion. This film has screened only twice in the UK, at Sundance London so it’s a real opportunity to see this gem of doc that looks at the stories of the women behind the cameras in Hollywood. It’s a chance to get up close and personal with high profile women directors including Ava DuVernay, Jill Soloway, Lena Dunham, Catherine Hardwicke and Miranda July, among many others, as they discuss their early careers, how they transitioned to studio films or television, how they balance having a demanding directing career with family, as well as challenges and joys along the way.

And we’re closing WOFFF18 with FACES PLACES. Director Agnès Varda and photographer and muralist JR journey through rural France and form an unlikely friendship. Agnès Varda is now 90 and her films, photographs, and art installations serve as a total celebration of her creativity and her age. A true WOFFF role model!

I like that you mention promoting the connection between older and younger women – how does that happen?

The rule we set of what makes a WOFFF film means that younger people have been involved with WOFFF with the start. We have filmmakers Q&As after each shorts programme and our all-female panel event is always a bit hit with our audience. In the Q&As and the panel events younger women are on the stage and in the audience so connections are made and conversations started which flow and continue throughout the festival and beyond.

One of the best pieces of feedback we got in our first year was from someone in their 20s who wrote that the thing they liked best about the festival was “the chance to hang out with cool older ladies”. To me, that sums up WOFFF – it’s a place where everyone can connect and get to know someone new; a place where older and younger women (and men too) can meet and learn and grow together.

How do you see the future for WOFFF?

As more of the same and then some! Two areas we’re working on are, first, to make WOFFF as inclusive as we can, and, second, to bring WOFFF to more people around the country with the UK our touring programme reaches urban and rural areas all around the country.

This year, thanks to funding from the National Lottery ‘Awards for All’ and BFI Film Hub South East, we’re extending a warm WOFFF welcome to people who are deaf and Hard of Hearing (as many older people are). All 58 short films we’re screening at WOFFF18 will be subtitled, and many of our WOFFF18 events, like our filmmakers Q&AS, will be BSL interpreted.

Some of our WOFFF18 events are free so people who are socio-economically disadvantaged can participate in and feel welcome at WOFFF.

Our UK tour this year has taken us to over 30 pop-up venues, community spaces and mainstream cinemas from Belfast to Bradford. Next year and beyond we’d like to add more locations to the tour to make sure older women, wherever they live in this country, can watch films in a fun, relaxed, communal setting and see work on screen and behind the camera that reflects them, their lives, and their experiences.

WOFFF8 details:

20 – 23 September 2018 at Picturehouse Duke of York, Brighton and Depot, Lewis.

Tickets available:

WOFFF launch night film: HALF THE PICTURE

https://www.picturehouses.com/cinema/Duke_Of_Yorks/film/woff-presents-half-the-picture

WOFFF short films, workshops and events:

https://lewesdepot.org/wofff

Find WOFFF online and on social media:

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/wo50ff/

Twitter: @WO50FF

Instagram: @W050FF

Website: http://wofff.co.uk/

Film about WOFFF17: https://vimeo.com/244094801

Film interview with Nuala O’Sullivan ahead of the Women’s Work strand which features the best of WOFFF screening at 20 Picturehouse venues around the UK on Tues 4 Sept: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=l5jVM-fCvJE

Wanted: retired travel addict for an expenses-paid ‘senior gap year’ around the world | Lonely Planet


2 Minute Read

If you’re a pensioner who regrets not taking time out to see the world when you were younger, we have the perfect job opportunity for you. UK-based price comparison site, Compare the Market, has just launched a quest to find a lucky retired person to go off on what it is calling a ‘senior gap year’.

Read more here: Wanted: retired travel addict for an expenses-paid ‘senior gap year’ around the world | Lonely Planet

Me, Myself and Lyme


8 Minute Read

Earlier this year I launched my second novel, Anatomised, which explores the impact of Lyme disease. There’d been a nine-year hiatus since the publication of my debut novel: A Portrait of the Arsonist as a Young Man. Convention says the second book can be harder to write than the first as the author sometimes hits a creative brick wall, so a time-lapse between the two isn’t unusual. A decade, however, can start to look more like retirement than a creative break.

Anatomised was definitely much harder to write than my first book, though my problem wasn’t in the fresh-ideas department. On the contrary, I was brimming with material and raring to go – until I was bitten by a tick and everything in my life unravelled. I found myself trapped in a black-windowed, monolithic building on the corner of Survival Street at the intersection of Life and Death. The terrifying symptoms of Lyme disease were initially mistaken for many other life-changing conditions, misdiagnosed as two strokes, a possible brain tumour and multiple sclerosis. Meanwhile, the raging infection was undiagnosed and untreated. It was therefore given time to take hold, spread, cross my blood-brain barrier and even destroy parts of my brain. As my own lights dimmed, the devastation of Lyme disease lit up the MRI scanner.

Within months I lost my livelihood (fiction mentor and creative writing tutor at two universities). I lost the ability to walk, to stand, to read, to write, to even think straight. There seemed little hope of me writing anything more than my own obituary. I was forty-four, had been riding the crest of a wave, and then I was sucked under, lost to a freakish riptide.

As a novelist and historian, I’m often asked about autofiction; the place where autobiography and imagination overlap. Anatomised is fiction, but it has facts at its heart. It tells the story of a middle-aged couple whose lives are turned upside-down by a mysterious illness that threatens to crush their dreams. It explores dark subject matter, but the main protagonist is a stand-up comedian so there are lots of lighter moments as it moves between harrowing, humorous and heart-breaking.

Just before I got sick, I was poised to write a romantic tragi-comedy set on an idyllic holiday island. It was to be pure, if dark, escapism; a beach read; a philosophical “Mama Mia”; a masterpiece. In my wildest dreams it would top the Times bestseller list, be optioned, turned into an award-winning film, a standout musical, a Chekhovian play, a Netflix TV series, and I would make a fortune that King Midas would be proud of! But soon after my long brush with death, after discovering the huge and rapidly growing numbers of patients experiencing Lyme disease around the world (a majority of whom had no voice), I parked the rom-com, re-set my moral compass, shifted my creative focus, and prepared to set off in a new direction. But first I had to get better.

It took over two years to be diagnosed and treated for Lyme, and then several more years to make a gradual, if incomplete recovery. Miraculously, I started to form coherent ideas and words. Sentences flourished, paragraphs piled up. It was as if I’d risen from a tomb, like a Lyme Lazarus, and I’d come back to the living with an important story to tell. The question was: should this tale be factual or fictional, memoir or novel?

Writing a semi-autobiographical novel allowed me to safely revisit the past; to explore exactly what went wrong, and still goes wrong for Lyme patients, from shambolic diagnostic processes to denial of treatment. Mistakes were made through ignorance, accident or inexperience, at other times through old-fashioned obstinacy and obstructionism. Sadly, similar errors and misjudgments are still being made with Lyme patients across the globe – every day. Anatomised writes some of these wrongs and wrongdoers, setting the record straight in the hope things will change for the better, because they must.

The process of reliving trauma in such detail was overwhelming and exhausting, but it also provided purpose and motivation; a reason to drag my ravaged, aging body out of bed. After a Eureka moment, when I suddenly understood how the story would end, I knew I was on the right track. Ironically, although I was reinventing the past, I never looked back.

Could I have written this story as straightforward memoir? In theory yes, in practice no. The truth is Anatomised did begin as non-fiction. I initially wrote 30,000 words as memoir but I gave up. The life I’d left on the page felt dead and flat, like the tragic two-dimensional outline of a Hiroshima Shadow left on the walls of buildings decimated by the atomic bomb. I pressed delete and wrote another 15,000 words of creative non-fiction, first from the viewpoint of my wife and then a close friend. There was life in this reawakened memoir and moving silhouettes, but still there was no depth of field. Facts remained facts, cold and cadaver-like. When I sat down to write, I sank further into the quicksand of the past, experiencing what I now believe to have been post-traumatic stress disorder. Lyme almost killed me, and now I was destroying myself all over again.

On the verge of giving up on writing (if I’m honest, on life itself), I stumbled across the names of Jack and Alice Mann that I had jotted randomly in a notebook, intended as material for a totally different story. Searching for safe emotional distance, I started to write in the third-person, viewing the rollercoaster ride from their shoulders. The fictional floodgates opened. Creative lightning lit up my sky. I wrote feverishly and unfettered for a year. My imagination muscles were flexed, my fingertips burned. Never in a million years would I wish Lyme disease on another person, yet I had to give it to Jack. I watched the comedy of the Manns’ lives unravel into tragedy as if my own survival depended on it; not so much a thinly-veiled autobiography as a heavily-draped curtain on a stage (quite fitting for a forlorn stand-up). Even though Jack and Alice were imaginary, I felt a colossal guilt and apologised to them daily in my head. I still do.

It isn’t rocket science: writing is good for a person. It is self-coaching, self-counselling, self-soothing. It is selfish in its taking from the world, like a sponge sucking water, but it is selfless too in its wringing out and pouring back. Sometimes it’s even mixing metaphors, because writing is gardening for the soul. It is weeding bad things out and planting new things in. But each writer must find their own allotment, the form and shape that best expresses their voice and vision; what they feel or think most profoundly and honestly about the world they live in. For me, fiction rather than memoir is the place I most effectively hunt down truths about what it is to be a human being. Fiction allows a writer to move ideas beyond the realm of “what happened” into the exciting realm of “what ifs”. Ostensibly, Anatomised is about Lyme disease. Arguably, it could have been written as a memoir entitled: “Me, Myself and Lyme”. In novel format, I wanted to confront Lyme, but also to escape it. I needed to surprise myself as a writer, and therefore the reader. Even though dark places exist within, behind and between the pages of Anatomised, readers aren’t absolutely sure what is real and what isn’t, and that’s how it should be. A story reflects its own truth.

All writing has the potential to be liberating. You may not write the wrongs that make the whole world sing, but the process can be psychologically curative; a meditative medicine for the mind. It can provide consolation, comfort and sometimes liberation. It’s true, you can’t cure Lyme disease or other chronic illnesses or traumas with words alone, but you can share your story. You can use what’s broken to reach out and illuminate the darkness. As Leonard Cohen wrote: “there is a crack in everything, that’s how the light gets in”.

I remember the first story I had published. I’d just thrown away a perfectly successful career as a medieval historian in the pursuit of an impossible dream to become a fiction-writer. When one of my short stories won an international literary prize, my love-affair with writing fiction rather than fact took root. It began to pave the road to creative writing, lecturing posts, the publication of my debut novel, a collection of short stories, editing anthologies and interviewing famous novelists at literary events, including Nobel Laureate, Kazuo Ishiguro. I wrote that first short story under a pseudonym Cassi Hart, an anagram of “catharsis”. Fifteen years on, now in my fifties, the Muse of Catharsis has left her mark on me and on the skin of my pages, like coolness from the softest of calamine kisses. And her kiss doesn’t age.

Anatomised took four years to complete and, despite good reviews, it probably won’t appear on many shopping lists let alone a bestseller list! That’s a shame, as some of its profit will go to international Lyme charities that offer patients a lifeline. It may have been the hardest story I’ve ever had to write but the process soothed my soul, it made me wiser. It probably saved my life, and who knows…maybe it could help save others?

So, as we grow older and wiser, here’s to writing wrongs, flexing imagination muscles, soothing souls, and hunting down the truth of our lives; in fiction, in fact.

Article Copyright: A F McGuinness

Andrew McGuinness is an award-winning author. His traumatic experience of Lyme disease has formed the basis of his new novel Anatomised

Website – www.afmcguinness.com

Buy the book here.

The golden opportunity in looking after older people | Courier Magazine


7 Minute Read

Like many elements of the UK’s health system, the care sector is in a state – and  it’s only going to get worse. The number of over-75s is growing (around 5.5 million in 2017), while government money to care for them is being slashed year-on-year. Yet, unfazed by all that, a collection of startups see in the sector an opportunity to have a huge societal impact – and make a healthy profit – by offering a 21st-century model of home care.

Read the full article here: The golden opportunity in looking after older people | Courier Magazine

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