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Every so often I come across a piece of writing that resonates so strongly with me I can’t keep it to myself. This morning it was a post by writer and humanist chaplain Jim Palmer . If you haven’t come across him before, Jim spent many years inside evangelical Christianity before eventually stepping away from organised religion altogether. Much of his writing explores what it means to live ethically, courageously, and compassionately without relying on religious frameworks -

There is a stillness in the early field— no footfall, no voice but the wind’s soft turning through the grasses. I walk alone, but not lonely, for solitude is not absence, but presence unadorned. Here, the soul takes off its coat, leaves the names behind— woman, daughter, worker, friend— and becomes only breath, only birdsong, only the light caught trembling on the edge of a stone. I sit by the creek and feel the world lean close, not to ask anything of me, but to whisper, You

This page is here to explain what happens next, how we’ll work together, and what you can expect from me (and what I’ll quietly expect from you).

If you’ve just started planning a wedding and you’re feeling overwhelmed by the list of Things You Apparently Should Already Know, let me take one off your plate. The difference between a registrar and a Humanist Society Scotland celebrant? It’s a biggie - and it’s not just about who gets to sign the paperwork. Let’s break it down. The Legal Bit Registrars are employed by the local council. They’re the official record-keepers, the government representatives: they manage the a

A reflection inspired by Andrea Gibson’s “Love Letter from the Afterlife” I recently came across a poem that stopped me in my tracks: Love Letter from the Afterlife by Andrea Gibson. If you’ve never read it, go gently. It’s the kind of poem that rearranges your insides in the best possible way. At its heart, it turns our usual thinking on its head. We so often speak about people "leaving us” when they die, as if they’ve vanished to some unreachable place. But this poem sugge

Okay, cards on the table: I’m a celebrant with Humanist Society Scotland. So yes, I’m biased. HSS is the only humanist body that is formally prescribed by the Scottish Government through the Registrar General to solemnise legal marriages and civil partnerships in Scotland. We have the same standing in practical terms as a religious body whose ministers are automatically authorised. (If you're not sure how big of a deal this is, it's worth reading this article before you cho

Funerals are rarely neat and tidy affairs. The best of them bring people together to celebrate a life well lived: they gather, shed tears, share memories, and raise a glass afterwards. But sometimes they're not quite so straightforward. they can also be a cocktail of love, laughter, tears, awkward moments, and - let’s be honest - drama. As a celebrant, I see this all the time. Families who adore each other can suddenly find themselves in heated debates over music choices, flo

An exploration of meaning, connection, and human dignity — with no hymns in sight. When people hear the word “funeral,” many still imagine a church, a vicar, and a smattering of well-known hymns, whether anyone in the pews believes in them or not. But what if the person who’s died wasn’t religious? What if the family want something that reflects their values — and the real life that’s been lived — without any nod to a faith that doesn’t ring true? That’s where Humanist funera

There’s a particular kind of courage that comes with getting married again. Not the swashbuckling, leap-off-a-cliff kind. More the brave, quiet sort - the kind that whispers, “I still believe in this.” Because let’s be honest: standing up in front of your favourite humans (or just one overworked officiant and a ficus plant) and declaring your love isn’t hard the first time. You’re buoyed by novelty and adrenaline and the conviction that you’ve cracked the code. Doing it again

I’ve always had a soft spot for stones. Not the sparkly, jewellery-shop kind—just your average, scuffed-up little pebble you find on a path. As a kid, I’d walk along kicking one gently ahead of me, pretending I was relocating it to a better home. Somewhere with a view, maybe a little mossy garden. Somewhere it wouldn’t be trampled, or worse—run over by a passing tractor. I genuinely felt for those stones. I believed  in them. Turns out, I was just getting in some early career

One of my favourite parts of being a celebrant is introducing couples to beautiful symbolic gestures that give their ceremony a bit of extra heart. I've already written about the glorious Oathing Stone ;  now I'd like to talk about one of the most powerful (and photogenic!) symbolic gestures of all. If you’ve ever watched Braveheart , you’ll remember the tender scene where William Wallace and Murron are married in secret, hands wrapped in tartan, whispering vows no one else h

There’s something beautifully simple about sand. It’s soft and unassuming. It gets everywhere. And it’s absolutely brilliant for symbolic ceremonies — especially if you’re looking for a keepsake that doesn’t wilt, need watering, or rely on you remembering where you last put it. Sand ceremonies have become a lovely feature in both weddings and naming ceremonies. Why? Because they’re visual, meaningful, and very forgiving if one of your party goes rogue with the pouring. How it

This is what depth looks like: real joy, real people, right at the heart of it all. I’ve heard it more than once—mostly (but not always) politely, often with a slightly furrowed brow and a concerned tone: “Don’t you think a non-religious ceremony can feel a bit… you know… shallow?” And I get it. Especially if you’ve only ever experienced ceremonies that follow a set religious structure, with age-old words and a firm sense of who’s in charge (usually someone in robes with a mi

It’s one of those things that can feel a bit awkward - but honestly, it shouldn’t be. You’re planning a wedding, not bartering for a second-hand sofa, and it’s important to know what’s what. So, how much does it cost to be legally married by me? All Humanist Society Scotland celebrants charge within a suggested price range set by the Society, so while we’re not pulling numbers out of thin air, there’s still a bit of room for personal flair. For weddings in 2026, my fee is £50

One of the most rewarding things about conducting a funeral ceremony is finding the words that make people say, “Yes! That’s her. That’s exactly her.” Now, I won’t pretend that’s always easy. There are all sorts of challenges that can get in the way of At a crematorium, time can be tight. And even when there’s no clock glaring at you, it’s hard for families to pin down the right words. You’re exhausted, blindsided by grief, and the doorbell keeps going with well-meaning visi

Amongst many a pearl of wisdom, Ricky Gervais once said, “You won’t burn in hell. But be nice anyway.” When I first read it, I wanted to...

The other day, Carolyn asked me what I wanted my legacy to be. It’s a good question, and one we’re often encouraged to ask as celebrants...

When I first started working as a funeral celebrant, I honestly thought my role would be pretty straightforward. I imagined delivering...

There’s a particular kind of grief that doesn’t come with black clothes or funeral flowers. It doesn’t come all at once, or even loudly....

There’s a moment - sometimes days after a funeral, sometimes weeks or months or even longer - when someone tells me, in a whisper as if...