It is time that I write about this experience. It is amazing when I look back at the timeline of events. It is fair to say that the beginning of November 2010 changed my life. Mid-week, I had the experience I wrote about in the last post, which was the beginning of me recognizing that I was receiving a call. Then several events that followed over the next few days, amplified the message, though it did not become clear for a few more weeks.
On Wednesday, I had the honor of providing a cranial treatment to a friend right after childbirth. This opened my eyes to a world outside of time, where life happens. Experiences like this can't help but bring us closer to center (well, it is either that or they throw us completely out into the tumultuous perimeter of a whirlpool where we can't grab a hold of center if we tried). On Thursday, my open mic gave me some lessons as well and I will elaborate in a forthcoming post. On Friday, I got to reconnect with a dear friend that I had lost touch with for a while. Part of the reason involved the birth of a child and I got to hear about adventures in a daughter's first year. Timely.
On Friday afternoon I went hiking with my partner. He has spent a lot of time in the trails around here and took me to some of his favorite spots. We admired an old cypress, the wisdom of these trees is palpable. Checked out an unknown spring, which he had long ago named after himself, briefly saw some deer, and followed the trail of a dry tributary. I got to see how refreshing it is to be out in the land, especially the land of my home, which deserves more connection. This is one of my many churches.
On the way back, we found our way through leaves and cypress knees and I suddenly felt a sharp, stinging pain in my right inner ankle. I have never felt a pain like that; it was as if a large needle had just punctured the bone. I lifted up my sock to see if maybe it had a thorn in it or something, but there was no mark at all. I realized that in maneuvering through the woods, my left foot had kicked the right ankle. It was one of those things where I kept thinking, "Why would my body do that!?"
I was able to make it back to the car, it was only later that I realized that it was really hurt. It had started to swell during the night and I was very aware of it while sleeping. By morning, I was limping and worried that I had chipped the bone I had to get up very early to go to the second to last workshop in the SET training I was assisting in. These classes consist of 12 weekend workshops, completed in about a year's time. As an assistant, it is quite the time commitment and though the educational benefit is worth it, I was looking forward to the training completion. Even with a hurt ankle, I knew I would be surrounded by healers and may get some insight into what happened to my body.
Part of the role as assistant is to fill in "on the table" when there is an odd number in the class. Ideally the class has an even number so that partnering up to give and receive the bodywork pattern being taught that weekend evens out. Occasionally someone is sick or has to miss class, so the assistant fills in the gap.
This particular weekend the students were learning arm and hand work, how to release nerve entrapment issues (like carpel tunnel). I was watching the demo in the morning and commented to one of the students, "of all weekends to have an even number!" The arm work looked really great and just what I needed.
Well, sure enough, once we got back from lunch, one of the students became ill. The student I had commented to looked at me and said, "Well, you manifested that one for yourself, didn't you?" I hadn't meant for anyone to get sick, but it funny how quickly the energy we put out there comes back to us.
As I got on the table, I had let the student know that I am really sensitive in the arm pit. When I went through this particular weekend in my training, I was amazed at how vulnerable the armpit work can feel. I wasn't sure what had possessed me to say this to this student, but I though they should know.
Fairly early one in the bodywork pattern, my teacher comes over to show the student how to release the lower attachments of the pectoralis minor. My teacher has big energy. Sometimes I wonder if it is bigger than he even realizes. as his hand gently eased along the side of the ribcage, I could feel my body start to vibrate and started to say, "Slow! Slow! Slow!" but then I popped.
What occurred next might be difficult to understand if one has not ever had a similar experience. I would explain "popped" like a jack-in-the-box. The box is the body, the spring is the energy. The body contains within it different pockets of stored energy, which seems at time to come out in spirals. When we receive bodywork, the box can unlatch and suddenly out springs this intense energy that can be startling. The releasing of this energy is what allows us to release chronically tightened tissue, which overtime can cause some serious pain. The "jack" may be whatever we attach to the energy: Memories, traumas, distinct emotions, held back expressions, etc. Though the process of releasing can get intense, the end result is a person who is more connected, integrated, and healthy. Knowing this end result is what got me through this particular release.
Before my teacher was done with the stroke into my armpit, I was starting to shake and convulse. I immediately wanted to blame him, to say, You did this to me. I turned my head once I mustered up the strength to speak and said sternly, "When I say slow, you need to go slow! This is not the first time I have felt this way and I know I am not the only one." My voice was a half-yell, half-whisper, and that was all I could get out, while still shaking uncontrollably. Without emotionally engaging in that comment, my teacher just looked at me and calm said, "We need you to release this now."
I lost it. I started breathing like I knew from the breathwork (EERT), while being couched by the therapist who was working on me. For the next hour and a half, I was breathing, crying, yelling, hitting the table, and trying to just get at the end of it all. So many layers came off that day, or at least started to peel away. Issues of belonging, of purpose, of voice all came up. I just kept breathing and every time I thought I was done, something would trigger me and more vibrations and expressions of emotions would release. At one time, the therapist working on me said, "I just want to feel loved and supported" and I lost it again. It was amazing how difficult of a statement that was to hear. It made me realize all these deep feelings of unworthiness. Though I consciously believe that I am worthy of love, I have not always felt this way and even when I do, it is not always in totality.
Afterward, I was able to piece together where some of this came from. Part of it had to do with an experience I had right after high school. I had a sebaceous cyst on the right side of my back, midway between the hip and the ribcage. It had become infected and heeded to be removed. This is usually an out-patient procedure done with local anesthetic. When we showed up at the doctor's office they had double-booked our appointment but decided to squeeze us in anyway. I don't know if that was why things were hurried or if the anesthesia really didn't work, but it turned out to be an extremely traumatic experience. I was laying on my left side with my right arm above my head. They gave me a shot to numb the area and then started slicing into my skin. I could feel everything. The scalpel, the blood running down my back, the squeezing and the pus following. My mom is yelling at the doctors to give me more anesthesia while I bawl and the doctors just trying to finish up. It took me the rest of the week to recover from this experience.
While in massage school, I was the model when we were learning side-lying massage. My teacher started to work around the scar and I could feel the tears come up as I started to on-some level reexperiences that trauma. It turned out to be a valuable lesson for the class about holding emotion in our bodies and I got to release some of it.
I do feel like that experience was some of what I released that day in the training room. There were other layers of frustrations with situations in my life, and more general feelings of being insecure about my place in the world.
It took me another day to recover from this release. My emotions were all over the place and it was difficult for me to connect with others. However, once this passed and some realizations formed in my consciousness, I became able to connect more deeply with those around me. I believe that it also made some room for the changes in my life that followed, including the decision to become a doula. In the next post I will write about my messenger who made it more obvious that a career path in birth services was coming soon in my future.
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