You talk about breathing and walking as the cure for many things... I would like to share this with you.
My 1st somatic therapy was Thai massage at the age of 40. The first sacred, compassionate touch of my life opened the flood gates of pain that had been trapped within since childhood. The journey of healing had begun...
Reiki, under the direction of a Christed master, brought me through the next critical stages. He was an advocate of Breathwork, as well. Many hindrances were cleared. To my surprise, many latent potentials began to flourish.
Much personal work, guided by Spirit, brought me to deeper healing, Kundalini and the Call and Anointing to take up the Work.
But there was a significant piece to follow... Experience had made it abundantly clear that no therapy or modality could proceed without involving the Body. No talk therapies, no meds, no books could do more than scratch the surface and give superficial results. Even worse, these things simply feed the Mind...the monster controlling the prison gate. Not only involving the body, but taking it beyond the mind's rigid and persistent controls. That was the great challenge. A feat that is the narrow door that few can find. The Mind is so cunning and deceitful that it will out maneuver every attempt to break through the illusions it creates. It is the thing that opposes actual healing. The Mind is the pretender to the throne.
Fauciesque...it creates the disease, micromanages it, claims it has the answers and leads to perdition. No higher mind exists than its own and it will dismiss, if not destroy, every dissenting thought or evidence that gets in its way. The problem of unfettered Ego.
I explored and experimented with a variety of somatic therapies. At one point I was drawn to CranioSacral Therapy at the Upledger Institute. CST is a subtle, spine-oriented technique. The therapist had barely started the work when something startling happened. I suddenly left my current reality and found myself at the point of death, struggling with all my might to breathe as I saw a pillow being lifted from my face. I was an infant. My mother was holding the pillow. Behind her was my stepfather. They had smothered me. His guilt was evident, as was hers. They thought they had succeeded when I suddenly sputtered back to life. They were horrified! My mother was too shocked to try again. That brief, vivid glimpse explained the totality of my relations with them. I re-lived it as it was brought to light-hidden in my body's musculature.
For the first time in my life I was able to take a full breath. For the first time, I was able to yell and scream- something I could not have done before if my life depended on it. I was 44 years old.
Encapsulated in that brief session was a deeply life-altering healing that continues to impact my life in many ways. Beyond the obvious freedom to breathe fully and inhabit my body, I understood what had happened and how it shaped my responses to life. What was false began to fall away. I stood anew without the trauma.
In my own healings and in working with severely traumatized people, I have come to realize that there are very dark passages that we cannot traverse alone.
You look on people with all their neuroses, reticence to heal or confront their issues, all their avoidance and projections and you find fault.
There are myriad reasons, terrors remembered and buried, all tangled together, seemingly hopelessly. Until help is sent, they cannot do it alone. Beyond the mind, beyond logic, beyond breathing, beyond techniques...all products of the Mind. That is your frustration... They're not listening, they're not trying, they're not receiving. And then you project your frustration. You know the rest...it's not pretty.
Help was sent...
It is just over 11 years since my first working trip to Bosnia. 137 people over 2 weeks.
The other day, I finally and with great sadness, unpacked the suitcase for the trip of March 2020.
The end of the matter... Why do I say that?
Last August 2021, I was quietly going about my day when something unexpected happened. I felt the 'work' of Bosnia lifted off of me. It was palpable. It was irreparable. No reason was given. No negotiation was possible. It came from 'on high'. It was a shock. Bosnia held a large place in me for a very long time. To this day, I have only a faint sense of why... Being the kind of person I am, I did not unpack my bag, but I knew. I would ask you about Healing Hands but you never got back to me...
I did not want to speak of this with you or anyone else, but I knew that I would have to write to you at some point. And I knew that I would have to ask you a difficult question. Please answer to God-not me. You know how we met and you knew that I came to work. The time was short. We didn't know how short. But had you known, would you have populated the time with family and friends and not the people I came to serve?