More Lightbulb Moments Than Blackpool Tower
Merlyn Griffiths and his daughter Dolly attended the CPW long weekend at Alton Castle which took place over Halloween and All Saints Day. He has written this reflection on how the theme and the people he met, inspired him.
For me, the unofficial theme of the CPW weeekennd (long weekend), was ‘more lightbulb moments than Blackpool tower’. However, this skillfully curated collection of days and sessions for late autumn 2025, was named ‘The Stories That Shape Us’.
Set in a castle on top of a hill, the location was the perfect backdrop for exploring our own stories, the stories that we are told, and the stories that we tell others.
Louise welcomed us to her metaphorical campfire, set the tinder, and sparked our imaginations with the telling of the evolution of communication and storytelling throughout the ages. Taking us on a journey from grunts and gestures millions of years ago, through a variety of evolutions, enabling experiences where humans could pass on knowledge to others, and the profound impacts this sharing of knowledge had over individuals, tribes, cultures and civilisations. Over time mark-making systems would mean that the passing of knowledge did not require face to face, could be duplicated and spread more widely.
Louise’s story, having taken me though the many ages of humanity, and reminding me about how truly awesome our world is, gave me a transcendental connection to my distant ancestors. I felt humble and excited for further exploration of the ideas.
A powerful topic for reflection was the stories we tell. Both to ourselves and to others. As well as those we are told. How a person can be a parent, a child, a musician and the CEO of a company. They may also be a messy eater and many more things besides. Depending on who they are speaking with and what they are trying to communicate, they may impart a small piece of information, leaving out a significant amount of the whole story. We could describe an event, placing emphasis on many different aspects to shape the story of what occurred. This can also occur in stories told to us, by friends and family, governing leaders and the media Where crucial context can be deliberately or inadvertently, missing from a story. Similarly we may tell ourselves that we are a certain thing or that our limitations are fixed. Alternatively we could create a version of our self-stories that aligns with our hopes and aspirations. We may, with the same set of circumstances, describe ourselves as a person that doesn’t run, or as a future marathon runner that just needs some practice.
The takeaway from these discussions for me was immensely stirring. Many different, sometimes conflicting truths can all be occurring at once. Different versions and accounts of a situation, with different conclusions, can be real and true.
What then, is truth? Selah!
My new friend, and CPW Chaplain Tim, told the story of being a student in a cancer Hospital. He described a devout Irish woman in her 80s who, among other wonderful character traits, was a staunch feminist. Every day she prepared the chapel for mass and, whether it was her calling, or perhaps she enjoyed the sport, she would very often lay down staunch challenges to the Priest, Ambrose, about the content of the gospels (particularly in their treatment of women - more often than not, whose names were not given).
Following the gospel reading one particular day, she gave the following challenge: “So Ambrose. You who know everything! Tell me, did that really happen? Is it really true?” Ambrose replied, “No! And yes!”
Tim explained that (probably) none of the stories in the parables told by Jesus actually happened, but a different kind of deeply meaningful truths were contained in the stories.
The compounding of all these thought provoking sessions and wonderfully framed ideas had a very special effect on me. At first, my mind scrambled, trying to resolve some of the question-marks around reality and truth. Then it just stopped. My soul smiled, then my face smiled.
I realised that each person in the room, on the CPW, in my family, the parish etc etc, would have a different, unique perspective. These ideas were (for me) to be explored, not solved. The stories we tell are (to my humble understanding) the best way we have for creating connection, sharing thoughts and ideas. Finding or creating alignments in our values, beliefs and interests. Most impactfully, I realised that the story that I’d been telling myself, about myself, was no longer the one I wanted to continue telling. So I stopped!
A delightful manifestation of this new idea happened from asking a room full of my friends to help me to be comfortable with Dolly and I attending a trick or treat outing in the village, something that I had been telling myself would be very difficult. I was warmly and gently invited to receive a new story, where the experience would be easy and fun. I didn’t need to worry and best of all, that I wasn’t alone. A bit like writing any story, I could simply delete the paragraph about fear, worry and doubts and replace it with courage, support and overflowing buckets of sweeties!
There were many more sessions, conversations, moments that made Alton so joyful. Too many for me include them all.
A final, fun, and partly jestful contemplation, came when we were reading different translations of Genesis 1, the creation of the world. There were many fascinating discussion points about the language and the possible meanings of words. After the discussions I found myself ruminating over what the truths might be in the story, as they weren’t easy to spot. Unconsciously allowing the story to tell something to me, it offered an idea. The story didn’t want to teach me how the world was made (at least today it didn’t) but rather, to give me a model for how to make: Ensure you have decent lighting a clean comfortable workspace and good foundations. Take the time to get each dependent task right. Have pride as much in the work as the outcome. I’m still thinking about what the parallel to the sabbath might be, but I’m not in a rush to find out and won’t force it.
That last contemplation is what led me to writing this piece. As a private joke, my brain said ‘Let there be WRITE’ and then I did.
Thank you to all that organised, curated, created, assisted and contributed to ‘The Stories That Shape Us. You were the potters. I was the clay.
With love, Merlyn.
Quantum Reflection
If the content of a mirror
Always differs, per the viewer,
The description thus decanted
Is a quantum of perception.
Though art dissonant and diff'rent,
Naught be more unreal or truer.
The reported pictures change. Therefore,
The court finds no deception.
On reflection, even that which
I have lived through and self seen,
May be not believed nor trusted,
Though; mine own eyes did behold.
For behind me or outside me,
Must be shapes I ne'er perceived.
None inherent, truth nor lies,
But stories, transient, a’told.
