A judging mind
who crush and shrink, burden and destroy
You come out from the nooks of my mind
seizing me with full of shame
Could I shake you off so that no one notices
how dark and ugly you are?
Welcome, judging mind
Welcome to my arms, welcome to be seen
Welcome to the warmth of my embrace
to the shine of the sun
there you soften
forget your job
begin to melt and love
One of the most touching things for me in Wholebody Focusing is the welcoming attitude. Nothing in me needs to be pushed away or hide even though there are moments when I first feel that I would like to do so. I can just be with whatever is there, say that I am there for it ready to listen. Sometimes it doesn’t want to say anything. Even that is totally okay. I can just be with whatever there is. How many of us would like to feel that kind of unconditional love in our life? To be accepted as we are. It is the place where even the hardest or coldest place in us can soften and melt.
lyttäät kutistat painat tuhoat
Nouset mieleni sopukoista
Valtaat minut täynnä häpeää
Saisinpa karistettua sinut pois ettei kukaan näe
miten synkkä ja ruma olet
Tervetuloa arvosteleva mieli
Tervetuloa syliini tervetuloa esiin
Tervetuloa sylini lämpöön ja auringon valoon
siinä sinä pehmenet
alat sulaa ja rakastaa
Yksi minua eniten koskettaneista asioista kokokehon fokusoinnissa on se, kuinka kaikki, mitä minussa on, toivotetaan tervetulleeksi. Mitään minussa ei tarvitse työntää pois tai piilottaa, vaikka jokin minussa haluaisikin välillä tehdä niin. Saan vain olla sen kanssa, mitä siellä on, kertoa, että olen valmis kuuntelemaan. Joskus se ei halua sanoa mitään. Sekin on täysin ok. Voin vain olla sen kanssa, mitä siellä on. Kuinka moni meistä haluaisi tuntea tällaista pyyteetöntä rakkautta elämässään? Että on hyväksytty sellaisena kuin on. Sellaisessa jopa kovapintaisinkin tai kylminkin paikka meissä voi pehmentyä ja sulaa.
My Wholebody Focusing practice is mostly silent. I move into grounded presence and give my body permission to move in the ways it needs. Automatic or spontaneous movements emerge. Words or images might surface but not necessarily. I eventually settled on this type of practice because it allows me to remain in grounded presence in a deeper and more sustained way. Without the need to search for words or images, I do not get triggered out of grounded presence as easily and I don’t have to worry about whether I am doing something “right” or if I’m addressing what is needed. My body takes care of that. Whatever emerges from my body is what it needs. I just need to give what emerges my awareness, equal regard and my consent.
Two dominant movements have consistently emerged. The first one is how every session starts. If I stand, my legs shake from the hips to the ankles. This movement first came to me during an automatic movement Qigong session many years ago. If I am sitting, my feet lift off the floor and shake in a different way. I have a vague sense of what is behind these movements. The leg movements seem to have a cleansing quality. It feels like a release of built up tension or static that might get in the way of what my body might need.
The second dominant movement usually emerges while my legs are still shaking. My arms shoot up over my head and stay there. My arms can be moving or still. This second movement emerged in a foundational session related to an image that has been with me for a long time—an image of a small bird with damaged wings that stubbornly preferred not to change in any way. This movement emerged during a health crisis. In a grounded state, I brought my awareness to how this crisis was affecting my body. My arms flew up at the same time a Kundalini-like sensation of a tornado arose from my feet and moved toward the top of my head. My understanding of this movement is that it was a moment in which this little bird tested its wings and found that they actually worked. This was a turning point in this health crisis. This movement emerges each time I am in grounded presence to remind me that anything is possible and to give me courage. Both of these dominant movements ebb and flow through my sessions in relation to whatever else emerges.
A few years ago, I was experiencing chronic anxiety due to a stressful situation at work. My body was deeply affected. My blood pressure, heart rate and diabetes markers were all higher than normal. I relied on my focusing practice to help me. In a Wholebody focusing session, a wordless felt sense of anxiety transformed into a sensation of me experiencing my own birth. As I exited the birth canal, I felt free from the anxiety that I had been experiencing. A new understanding emerged about how my body experienced anxiety.
Wholebody Focusing Haiku # 21 When upset, I ask What does my body need now? Then I notice me.
Frequently writing Haiku about my WBF discoveries not only helps me document what is emerging but also helps me to sustain the new healing.
As I was preparing for bed a few weeks ago, I noticed that I felt defeated. There were so many challenges that made me anxious and fearful that I wondered if it were useless to try to sleep. My husband and I have been experiencing serious health problems for the last year and a half and it feels exhausting to be in this place.
The words “what does my body need now?” came to me. I thought I would give it a try. As a got into bed, I felt into my body as I asked this question. My hands moved. They landed crossed, on my upper chest with my hands near my shoulders. It felt so comfortable and comforting. The next thing I remembered is that I woke up at 6:00 AM. I had slept through the night and my hands were still in this position. It was as if I had given myself a seven hour Reiki treatment.
Your experience Kevin resonated profoundly in me. When you listened deeply, in searching for a sense of self, an uninvited Trappist monk connected with you – and you came alive. As if listening deeply for life could be as a calling to the universe and something from beyond answered you. Could this be possible?
In the beginning of the nineties I was on a similar journey, in my longing to become alive and be myself. My travel led me to an Orthodox Monastery, named New Valamo, in Finland. During the winter war 1939, some 190 monks fled from Valamo Monastery in Russia. They founded a refuge and a new home in a mansion in the east of Finland. To have somewhere to live they had to rebuild the old barn into monk’s cells. The monks lived and prayed in the barn for years. It was possible for me, as a visitor, to stay in one of the old monk´s cells in the barn. And of course, it was an offer I could not refuse. Continue reading To Become Alive / Att bli levande