These links are to the websites of people, organisations, enterprises, etc. that are, in their own ways, in tune with all that The Art of Being seeks to celebrate and nurture in our lives and being.
Alan is the founder of The Art of Being®. He has an international reputation as a premier guide of personal growth and spiritual awakening. Since 1974 he has been helping people to get free of what holds them back, to realize their full potential and to celebrate fully the gift of being. His workshops address the themes that touch us all most deeply: our personal journey, our connection with our nature, feelings, heart and soul; with sex, love intimacy and relationship; with our death, birth and childhood traumas. Alan’s teaching style is deep, playful and personal.
Alan Lowen has been creating and leading workshops for 36 years and has established an international reputation as a premier guide for people seeking to accept, integrate and celebrate all aspects of their personal life and being. He studied psychology at London and Oxford universities, then trained in many areas of personal growth, inspired by his first mentor, Dr. Carl Rogers. Later he became a disciple of Osho Rajneesh, and lived in his ashram for 8 years, leading workshops and exploring the deepest realms of human potential. In 1986 he returned to public life and founded The Art of Being® as a path of self-realization, heart awareness, life fulfillment and spiritual awakening.
He chooses to engage with the essential personal themes of our lives - with our nature, our stories and relationships, with sex and love, with the influences on us of our birth and childhood, and with the universal experience of death and dying. Above all he invites us to honour and celebrate our own unique art of being. In 2003 he received the Kindred Spirit magazine award for his work in the field of personal transformation.
The Art of Being® is a remarkably human path of personal and spiritual growth. Touching, passionate, humorous, and celebrative, it is potent in its power to transform and awaken! It calls you into the present and teaches you how to keep being here when old habits would shut you down or impair your wholeness and your intimate connection with life happening here and now.
Art of Being workshops and courses cut through the intellectual and verbal layers of knowledge and information to the sensing-feeling depths where you can learn to truly befriend and appreciate the totality of your being. They enable you to heal the wounds that keep you limited, open to all your inner resources, celebrate your nature as a sensual man or woman, find fulfillment in your friendships and intimate relationships, and live in an ever-deepening communion with the spiritual dimension of existence. They nurture consciousness, compassion, grace and beauty in the way you live your life.
Managed by the Art of Being team and Jutta Panke Photography
The door is locked, the first sign of trouble. It’s a Friday evening in the early Spring of 1976. Though I don’t yet know it, my past is finally about to catch up with me. The hounds of my childhood have been breathing down my neck ever since La Jolla. Their time has come!
From my present vantage point, a decade into the next century, it’s easy to look back half a lifetime and see how it all unfolded so perfectly, like some guardian angel’s master plan, to break me down and unbury the dead and bring all the life back in.
So here I was, standing on the doorstep of a house in north London, earnestly oblivious to what I had cooked up for myself. The house was called COMMUNITY, and the only thing that distinguished it from the neighbouring residential houses was what went on inside. Here, every weekend, people came to participate in personal growth workshops. These were the pioneering days of the Human Potential Movement in England. That evening I really felt like a pioneer. The secretary had already left and she had forgotten to leave the door unlocked. My workshop was due to begin in half an hour and there was already one early arrival. He was simply standing on the steps leading up to the door, quietly observing me. He didn’t say anything. That was an augury of things to come. I rang all the doorbells, looked to see if there was a basement entrance and tried to appear cool and unflustered. Finally I went round the back of the house and saw that there was a bathroom window open. It was a bit of a climb, but I grew up climbing anything inviting – trees, cliffs, scaffolding, bridges, and sometimes my own home when my step-father locked me out for the night. I was more ruffled by the indignity of being observed having to break into my own workshop.
I was leading an encounter group for people in the education world. I had spent the whole of my twenties as a university student, a school teacher and a college lecturer until, in my twenty-ninth year, I discovered a radical form of learning unknown within the educational system. Did I find it or did it find me? Either way, it promised everything I was longing for. One day it would become The Art of Being. Right now it was just a little weekend workshop that might keep me fed with a roof over my head until the next workshop; and while I was creating this space for people to open up and discover themselves, I was desperately struggling to hold my life together. Ah, the paradox of teaching and learning!
I opened the front door, the other participants arrived and the workshop began. There were about sixteen of us, sitting in a circle. As usual in those early days, I said very little and before long most of the group were wondering what was this all about, what were they paying for, why wasn’t I telling them what to do and was this really how they wanted to spend their weekend? When I was feeling good I could be humorous and playful in confronting people with the banter they habitually got into to survive their discomfort, but this evening I felt aggressive. It was always that way when I was hurting on the inside. The little I had to say was challenging and provocative to the point of unfriendliness. “I don’t want you to find something to talk about just because the silence scares you”… “Why don’t you say what you really mean?”… “I don’t trust your smile”… I knew I was stoking the fire, I wanted people to react, I knew that sooner or later something would happen that would blow us all open. By the end of the evening my main concern was that people might not show up the next morning, but humorous or harassing, I was here to push the envelope.
On Saturday morning the tension kept building and so did my apprehension. It was not only the participants who were scared. My recurrent fear was that this time we might not come through, that this time the workshop would end in the darkness we needed to go through rather than the light to which it must eventually lead.