WORKSHOPS WITH WILMA 2021
Alexandra Writers Centre Society
ONLINE Writing The Seasons
Tuesdays10am-12pm June 8, 2021 (4 weeks)
Our life patterns journey around in cycles and spirals. The season’s rhythms summer, fall, winter, and spring provide inspiration for self-reflection, to celebrate personal insights, enhance our creativity, claim our unique wisdom and unlock our muse. This will enrich our lives, nourish and develop our courage as writers.
https://www.alexandrawriters.org/courses/online-writing-the-seasons/
This is an interactive online class using the Zoom web platform.
Manage Your Workplace Emotions
You can't change conflict and opposing points of view in the workplace. You can, however, change the way you react. Become more emotionally aware, harness your emotions and express them positively with control, confidence and composure.
Friday 7th May 1.00pm -4.00pm

Conflict Resolution for the Workplace
Successful conflict resolvers are not born; they are trained. Build your skills as an effective conflict resolver and mediator. Learn to recognize conflict patterns and what triggers and escalates conflict in others, master strategies that reduce conflict escalation, assert yourself confidently and give constructive feedback. These skills will help you work more productively and harmoniously with clients, colleagues and superiors. See Course Outline.
Instructor: Wilma Rubens - see Instructor Profile

Fridays 4th 11th June 2021 9.00 - 4.00pm

Entangled Enchantments

Entangled Enchantments
My very first collection of poetry. These poems celebrate my journey on the uncharted waters of the feminine. For your very own copy purchase at Cafe Books, Canmore, or Pages in Kensington, Calgary or contact www.wilmarubens.com

Saturday, September 13, 2008

My latest poetry - first night on our Hebridean bike trip

images of my own face

a labyrinth of interconnected trails
a tapestry of coloured threads
trodden into the Scottish hills decades ago

hair swirls around my face
sun sparkles like a million diamonds
lures me over the sea
to Arran’s mountains clad in silvery cloud


fifty years ago the ferry tossed like driftwood
as wild waves washed over the side
and angry water rushed through portholes
my curly haired sister’s face twisted in panic
worried she’d be swept out to sea

I listen to the call of land
is this were the yearning comes from
it was here I touched the hard rock
with my childish hand and felt comfort

now freewheeling down switchbacks
I sing girlhood freedoms to the winds
“Hey Jude”
the road invites me south along the seashore
enticed by sweet fragrant hawthorn
fresh cut grass
a whiff of seaweed
vibrant song of thrush chaffinch skylark
come from oak and sycamore trees
I rush past hedgerows thick with red and violet fuchsia
dancing ladies we called them
bite suck the sweet nectar
perched on the hillside tumbling to Pladda and Alisa Craig
names long forgotten jump to mind
I see the holiday house we stayed in that summer before father died


on those golden beaches
Dorothy and I floated on makeshift rafts
swam in the cold ocean
played tag with purple jellyfish
decorated sand castles with white limpet shells
as father cooked potatoes in a drum of sea water
on the volcanic dykes of Kildonan
sand between my nine year old toes
I learned the earth dance


fast forward twenty years 1978
I hike down Glen Rosa
beside the sparkling peaty brown burn
red berries of the mountain rowan
accompanied by the sturdy members of the
rock hoppers climbing club from London
I worldly wise desire challenge
a few months later I climb in the Southern Alps
return dazed for my mothers funeral

spread over the darkening sky
angel clouds begin their evening blush
reluctantly I turn back
my mother always said
one should always leave the table with room for a little more

fifty years ago Dorothy and I walked these four miles
in a faded photo we stand arm in arm in our yellow sundresses
clutching wild flowers
eyes twinkling by the lichen encrusted wall
embraced by something that had no name
now rainbows dance over the mercurial waters
reflect the image of my own face