This week I found myself at the Confucius Festival in Gloucester. I hadn’t planned to write about it, but the experience stayed with me. There was food, conversation, drumming, even a puzzle involving numbers – yet what lingered most were the lessons about community and responsibility between generations. I thought I’d share a little of that with you today.
It began, as so many good gatherings do, with food. We sat at long tables, sharing a complimentary meal, and the sense of community was immediate. Conversations started easily across the table, strangers coming together, as Confucius himself might have appreciated, through simple hospitality.
Afterwards came a Tai Chi display, slow and graceful, a reminder of how movement can bring balance. I wandered further and found that the festival was arranged around different aspects of Confucius’s teaching. Six stations in all – I only explored a few, but each left an impression.
At the mathematics table I was drawn into a card game: four numbers on a card, the challenge to combine them to make 24. Sometimes I solved it, other times I needed help. It was playful, but also an exercise in patience and perspective – Confucian qualities in their own way.
Then I tried drumming. Simple rhythmic patterns, nothing elaborate, but approached mindfully. We centred ourselves before beginning, hands on hearts, and again at the end. It reminded me how rhythm connects body and spirit. I have drummed before – for the Sealed Knot, marching with the Parliamentarian Army, and for a time attending samba classes – but this was gentler, more reflective.
My final choice was the “Filial Society” station, focused on relationships between generations. A volunteer explained that the young are cared for by their elders, and in turn should support their parents in later life. We talked about elderhood – how age doesn’t automatically confer wisdom, and how older people, if able, have a responsibility to make things better for the younger ones, especially those who struggle.
A story was shared with me about a young man carrying rice for his parents, eventually meeting a king and being rewarded. I only half-remember the details, but the lesson was clear: respect and care for your parents while they are still alive.
I didn’t need to try every activity. Sometimes enough is enough. I left feeling calm and centred, with a deeper appreciation of Confucius beyond the “Confucius say…” clichés. His teachings hold more than witty phrases – they are invitations to live well within community, to act with respect, and to remember the ties between generations.
For me, as someone reflecting on later life, it was a reminder that age brings responsibility as much as privilege. To be an elder is not simply to be older, but to offer care, presence, and a commitment to those who come after us.
Confucius hadn’t been something I’d considered at all, but this experience has got me thinking. One of the gifts of later life is the pull towards depth, moving beyond the familiar and reaching for experiences that stretch both mind and spirit. Attending the Confucius festival was more than an afternoon of performances; it opened a door I hadn’t thought to walk through.
It reminded me how valuable it is to say yes – to friends, to invitations, to moments that take me further than I might go alone. At improv we sometimes play a lighthearted game called Chinese Sayings, where we each add a word until it sounds profound enough to nod at. Standing at the festival, I could feel the difference between that playful surface and the richness of a tradition carried through centuries. It left me smiling, and also curious. Perhaps next year I’ll try the calligraphy, or even the archery. There is always more to discover.
And perhaps that is the real lesson: to keep looking, learning, and saying yes.
