Lovers of caves

"The cave that you fear to enter holds the treasure that you seek" Joseph Campbell.

Time indeed takes on a degree of timelessness whilst in the cave itself. It is hard to know how long I had been in there. Sometimes it felt as if lifetimes had passed. Othertimes, it seemed to move very quickly although I had been in there for hours. A true sense of the elasticity of time.

For therein lies the peace and calm. Stephanie Dowrick once spoke of “intra-personal” peace. The space inside ourselves where it is no longer in conflict.  Just being.  Not the doing. Just being. Resting. Eating, nurturing talking, voicing. The parasympathetic nervous system. Where our bodies should reside for most of the time- at least 95%. And how in modern society it generally doesn’t. It often runs on adrenalin. And keeps running on adreanlin. And then we wonder why we are tired, or have nothing "left". Adrenalin is a non-renewbale energy source. The energy from the parasymaptheitc nervous system is renewable, long lasting, and easy. Kinda like the tropical island relaxation one gets when one is well and truly relaxed. It needs to be nurtured, and loved. 

How can we make our bodies reside more in the Being?

“We die containing a richness of lovers and tribes, tastes we have swallowed, bodies we have plunged into and swum up as if rivers of wisdom, characters we have climbed into as if trees, fears we have hidden in as if caves. I wish for all this to be marked on my body when I am dead.”

― Michael Ondaatje, The English Patient

Flow- in staying out of our own way...

“If I can get out of my own way,

If I can be pure enough,

If I can be selfless enough

And if I can be generous and loving and caring enough

To abandon what I have and my own

Preconceived silly notions of what I think I am

And become truly who in fact I am

Which is really just a child of the Universe

Then the music/sound/voice/flow/movements can really use me

And here lies my fulfilment

That’s where the flow starts to happen”

J.McLaughlin



This was my personal objective/mantra/aim for the concert on Sunday.....How to stay out of my own way. It was a feat. A triumph on a deeply personal level. It was a true testament to my mental, emotional and physical wellbeing as well as a deep trust in all that is. From all accounts it was a success. I received beautiful feedback, and it felt good.


Using all the strategies I speak of with my clients, I entered into the space calm, with minimal adrenaline, resting more with the nestles of the parasympathetic nervous system than in the popularised pep up of "go get 'em". I know I felt deeply connected to all that was around me, and felt definitively in the zone. I was connected to the breath, and to myself. I did not abandon myself once. I allowed myself to rest fully with my psyche, and the space I was residing in. The inner critic did not rear its ugly head, and the weight of judgement was nowhere to be seen within my heart. In that moment, I was completely blissed out, in love with all that was.


In this space, I know I could have resided for ever.

Thanks to all who came and supported me throughout my process. xx

Caves: echoes of the past

“For echo is the soul of the voice exciting itself in hollow places.” 

                                   ― Michael Ondaatje, The English Patient

The Newdegate Cave at Hastings  was glorious. Cheeky, and filled with a lightness that desired interplay. Many small chambers that resonated with a gloriousness remnant of some of the best cathedrals in the world. A long acoustic. Longing to be sung in. A symphony of sorts...

Newdegate Cave, Hastings Tasmania

So it was with a great appreciation that I had been largely on my own whilst I have sung and explored these caves. The sense of stillness is deeply satisfying. There is something again about residing in the silence, and then making sounds from the ethereal heavens which seems to open up hidden places. 

I was reminded again that I had been to many caves before this year. I went to Sung Sot Cave whilst I was in Vietnam several years ago. My memory of this time was that it felt unstable, and that there were literally thousands of tourists who were traipsing through with little respect for the cave. It had been said many people had taken pieces of the cave and touched much. What i witnessed was this lack of respect for the natural formations. In Australia, and in particular Tasmania, it seems that we are lucky that there is still so much that remains pristine.

Gunns Plains Cave, Tasmania

In Gunns Plains Cave, there was a moment, when the lights were switched off. And the gurgle of the flowing water through the cave was all one could hear. If there was a sound of amniotic fluid, and a recording of this, I imagine that they would be so similar. I was moved to silent tears. A sense of being soothed and safe in the dark. Delicious. Where time stands still. And in that moment I could have stayed there forever. A sign of the divine. Timelessness pervades deeply.

Geoff, the guide spoke of how he is often rejuvenated after a walk through the cave. Going in tired, with aches and ills, and coming out the other side, in a sense reborn with newfound vigour and delight. This was a theme amongst the guides all stating that they always felt better after tours than before. My body felt more energised after being in the caves, and I found my sleep to be deep and strong after such days. 

They do concerts in the cave. This seems to be a new, cool thing to do. It seems the cave energy can now support a new level of sound. Using the cave, and using sound to make the vibration of the cave change. I mean it has been there for over 440 million years. Since the ice age. How amazing is that? And lest we disturb it with our travels, our ramblings, and using sticks on columns to make sound( a little like playing the organ of bones in the Goonies) hopefully it can be preserved for many more years to come.

Cave experiences may not be for everyone, but it seems that once we have tried it, it fits like a comfortable shoe. Picasso describes his creativity as the "descent into caves of initiation and secret knowledge" One woman on a guided trip exclaimed a fearful "OOOH" when it went dark, yet was the first to say "I could have stayed there forever" once the lights were turned back on. Delightful. That seems to be the transformation and residing in process.

Metaphorical language of the caves.

*They caved into their cravings
 *My throat/heart/will caved in"
*Like a child in a magic cave"
*Aladdin's cave

Metaphorical language of caves then reminds me of the breath...

*our first breath

*he took my breath away

*he gasped in fright

*our dying breath

*he was a breath of fresh air
*I walked on air

Newdegate Cave, Hastings

If you know any others, I would love your comments....

Synchronicity

"The areas in which we feel most stuck and most incompetent may be our richest gold mine of developing material" Free Play

This year, I had wanted to walk the Camino de Santiago across Northern Spain. I have known about "il camino" for over 20 years and it has always piqued my interest. It is something I had promised friends in France that we would do before we were 40. It is seen as a rite of passage for many pilgrims: A mark of their faith, their endurance. Many have spoken of their experiences with their inner gifts opening whilst 'on' the Camino, including Shirley Maclaine. There was a film released this year, The Way, which highlighted how special the Camino route is for personal and spiritual growth. I still managed to love the film, despite some of its cliches, especially the sweeping scenery (all minus the pain of real blisters)! The pilgrims follow the scallop shell of "St Jacques" along the route.

I decided not to pursue this path this year. Trusting that as one door opens.....one may need to stand in the hallway a while till another one opens.....but open it does...and so it has.

I found a scallop shell last week whilst walking along the bay. I saw it as a sign that I have been travelling in the right direction. Making my way slowly and surely. Making my very own Camino during my immersion in Tassie. Following my heart, following the wind and the birds. Indeed the birds had squawked madly as I had been walking the other way, and watching their flight, I had decided to follow them.

Scallop Shell on "My Camino"

Scallop shell on the Camino

A synchroncity of sorts. And a beautiful reminder that we can find meaning in our lives through symbols. It is like when we buy a new car and suddenly all we see are new cars. I often see life play out around me in symbols. I seem to get lots of signs and hints when I am travelling about my internal world. A sign will remind me of a story, a song, a memory and with that I find myself dropping into the labyrhinth of my mind where I can recall, dissect, reflect upon its meaning. It seems to bring about a new clarity, focus, meaning, and I find that the depths of meaning are multi-layered.

I see signs in real life too: Speaking recently with a friend of her dismissal of her deeper feminine aspects, we were treated to a woman jumping out of a moving car at the train station. Really. A moving car. We laughed solidly for the next five minutes at the synchronicity and the strength of the symbolism. If there is ever an image now of how we "throw out our feminine aspects" that is it. And yes, it was a male driver (with respect to the masculine in us, and her masculine at the time). We both laughed at the clarity of how the external meets the internal. For me, this is my reality. There are signs in my outer world which augment, and clarify my internal world, sometimes as if to prepare me for what is ahead.

Jung believed there were many indications of how we are connected: with our fellow humans and with nature in general, through the 'collective unconscious' or "Atman". As we venture deeper into the 'Atman' we may find that we are more and more connected to our internal environment. The Germans have a great way of expressing those who are more emotionally connected to the Atman by stating "Some of us live closer to the water than others" (I can't find the German translation, and yes, if you know it, please comment!)

The artistic journey is one of reconnecting to oneself.  Of making sense of these synchronicities. A way of delving deeply into the internal psyche. An internal journey. One that isn't concerned whether we are sitting on the couch at home or in some ritzy hotel. Although, sometimes it is wonderful to change our external environment to facilitate this inner journey. It is as though it seems to dislodge any internal matter that may be too fixed and stubborn in the quotidien life by being gently jostled from our external environment. 

And by dislodging it, we may find our best song, our most beautiful poem, our richest heart.

xx

Power of Ritual

"A ritual cannot be created; it grows in accordance with the need to make meaning" N.Hall

"Everything in nature, the sum total of heavens and of earth become a temple and an altar for the services of God" Hildegard Von Bingen.

Deep breath, Melanie Weidner, 2005

Ritual of 
coffee
naps
daydreams
meditation
goodness
generosity
eating
looking at the moon
stretching
dancing
singing
breathing
being...

Ritual heals and celebrates and brings the microcosm into relationship with the macrocosm. (Matthew Fox)  As I contemplate these ideas this morning, I am aware of how one uses rituals to make oneself at home to bring awareness and familiarity to the day. I awaken, look out the window at the day (today's sunrise was spectacular), stretch, breathe, remember my dreams,  put the radio on, put the coffee machine on, and on it goes. Some of these rituals are common to many, some are common to self only. A ritual can deepen when we do it consciously, according to Woodman. 

So I wonder if we keep up these rituals if others around us don't? How strong is our need for it? Are we able to miss a day? In ancient times, rituals were how we survived and gave meaning to life...honouring the seasons, nature, the weather.  We would have harvested at certain times, the animals would have been at a certain watering hole, the tides would have been at a particular level. These days, our rituals do not mean that we die if we do not do honour them. At least not on a physical level. Our biggest ritual may be opening a bottle of wine at the end of the work week.

I love ritualised experiences. I grew up feasting on religious ritual and song. Marius Schneider is an ethnomusicologist. He states that most public ritual is accompanied by music and song as it was in old. Even the football grand final has a musical prelude.  Rituals used to be secret. There were the rites of passage for both males and females. Even the alphabet used to be secret apparently. People still die to this day standing up for their religious beliefs and rituals. 

Tea tree lake, Sister's beach, Rocky Cape National Park, Tasmania

Deep feminine is about ritual, magic, eternity, altered states of consciousness, art, music, lunar cycles, intuition. Ritual is also the primary means by which people get their inner houses into order, both at an individual level and as a community. One of my friends spoke of a beautiful Sri Lankan ritual of allowing prosperity into a new house by over-boiling milk onto the stove. 

How do we set up our lives so we can honour the ritual of our lives? Our society rewards those who have "been busy" not necessarily those who have been deep in reflection without 'anything' to show for it. 'Daydreamers' and 'slacking off' come to mind. Often our modern life is, on the whole, highly structured. In the past, my creative flow has felt stifled at times by the rigid set up of modern day. How many of us would like some days to not face the world, instead finish writing that poem, or song, nap or daydream rather than head off to work. I know many creatives whose lives are mixed between "day jobs"  and a few sacred hours of inspiration at the end of the working day. In such a patriarchal society, the deep feminine, or creativity is not often revered. I had a client say to me recently "I thought what you did was B-S at the beginning, but now I know it works. You are awesome" Yes, breathwork and technique is magic. So is being aware of what we are doing. 

Hildegard von Bingen wrote that "authentic ritual helps us find our inner selves." Lately, I have been exploring the deep feminine in relation to caves. I saw a beautiful river that had etched its way through the honeycomb cave last week. It furrowed in unusual ways. The water had found a way through the seemingly impenetrable structure, little by little making a path for itself that was sustainable and which supported its flow. This would have taken hundreds and thousands of years to achieve. It reminded me that nothing is permanent, such in the Buddhist teachings and knowing on a deep level that all things change with time.

Honeycomb Cave, Mole Creek

That is how I feel I am restructuring my world at the moment. Etching out a new course. It requires more structure, but of the kind that supports me on every level, whilst giving the flow the space, and the breath, to move and change course. I am grateful for this new possibility. It also provides hope that the flow can be a force powerful enough to facilitate change through what seems rock-like substances. Something I perceive as dense and solid might shift with time and persistence of flow.  

Whilst in Vanuatu this year, a ritual unexpectedly arose. Routine combined with an unexpected aspect of song resulting in a magical experience. After an operation, unplanned, the whole medical team walked behind a patient's trolley, wheeling him back to the ward. There were many family members on the ward who were singing beautiful songs of their home and hearts. Their melodious voices floated up as if carrying us all on poop'ed wings. Returning their brother, son, child, future elder back to the tribe after surgery. It was a procession of sorts. A handing over. It was honouring, moving and greater than the individual sum of its parts. I was moved, and the occasion was marked as unique and special. A sign of the great feminine. The kind of experience that gives one body shivers. The power of ritual.

xx

Body Awareness

Peace interrupted. "Our Consciousness is the perceiver that can change the perceived" (Jung)

That familiar feeling that I had known so well, had not lifted up its head until this morning. Already on shaky ground, 'work' invaded the artistic space. I was no longer able to reside in the feminine (or I chose not to reside there anymore and then felt resentful). The voice of the masculine was loud and structured. I was unstructured and soft, unsure where to put my footholds. Withering under the pressure of the need to have answers, immediately, I felt myself become unstuck. I have loved residing in the world where there is movement and flow, and no outcomes. It allows my body to breathe easily, to rest, to be nourished and for me to feel connected: to myself, and to the world around me. How does the feminine voice be sustained. The one that says "Wait, stop! The darkest hour is before the dawn. Don't give up just yet. It will all unfold."

What felt like a strong, long spine and loose jaw only moments ago, has altered into a feeling of tightness and constriction, with doubts and a gut that is highly unsettled. It doesn't take much to disrupt the balance for me. A little bit like the temperature of a new born baby's bath I like to have a steady temperature on all levels. How do I get back to centre? Well, with many of the strategies I teach others. The power of breathing, the genius of mindfulness, and the gentle space to sit with both whilst allowing it to unfold.  It is waiting for the calm voice. And realising that there might be a couple of waves before the voice appears in its clarity. How do we sit with ourselves so that we can be fully available to the answers? Martha Graham states "The body does not lie". So can we handle its honesty?

Often in our modern society "fitness is confused with body awareness" (Woodman). I had a client a while ago, who was so in tune with her body that she knew it was decisively out of tune. As we  carried through our sessions, she made reflections about when certain aspects of her body changed, whether through illness or accident or other. As we pieced together her body puzzle relating to her voice, she made some startling realisations. One of which was that she knew all the strategies and exercises I had given her. She had been at Drama school some 30 years before. It was then almost as if a door between her younger self and her current self was opened and she was able to shift into the present. Needless to say she made a good recovery and rather quickly too.

So, returning to centre, returning to the breath, listening to the wisdom of the body, watching it a little like the ocean. Thanking it for doing all it does each day: heart beating, digesting, processing, thinking, assimilating. We are all in our complexity. "Without reflections on our inner world, we succumb to broad generalisations" (Woodman)

So I didn't have to 'snap out of it' to find peace again. That would have pushed it further into the body. Sweeping it under the metaphorical carpet.  I had to bend like the bamboo, gather myself and gently re-centre, breath, be. Gracefully. In my own time.




With thanks to Marion Woodman 'Conscious Femininity" 1993