Damascus

The rest of Venice will have to wait a little longer, something important has happened.

I have just come back from a weekend seminar called Ein Quantensprung für Singles, which has opened my eyes, mind and heart to many things. What was it? meditation, visualisation exercises, a lot of talking, an awful lot of crying, some dancing, and a fair amount of staring into each other's eyes. It was about love: about clearing away the obstacles that prevent us from receiving and expressing love, about opening ourselves for love, about recognizing and accepting the love that surrounds us. (How many readers have I lost already?)

I didn't want to go, it was all Slim's idea. She had heard of the seminar leader and wanted to attend, but needed to bring along a man to keep the numbers balanced, so she called me late Tuesday evening to ask whether I would go with her on Friday afternoon. I debated about whether I should flat-out decline or pretend to think about it. I was (and still am, though less so) skeptical about the "esoteric" world, I thought (and still think, though less so) that there is an awful lot of horseshit packed into some of those tiny expensive bottles. But then I thought, "Slim is not an idiot, she means well and she thinks this would be good for me", so I took a deep breath, called her back and said "yes".

There were thirteen of us plus the instructors and an assistant (who completed the seventh pair when necessary), in a complex of farmhouses at the dead end of a mountain road not far from Stuttgart. Most of us were more or less local, but one woman had come from Luzern in Switzerland.

We did some breathing/loosening-up exercises (eyes closed, very low instrumental music, the instructor's voice quiet and slow) and then she said "Visualise the armour that you have built up around you to keep the world at bay; now imagine yourself taking it off, piece by piece". Dear reader, I started to cry. I wished for the floor to open up and swallow me while the rest still had their eyes closed. Inevitably, the floor did not open up; we opened our eyes, and walked about the room silently looking at each other without armour, me with my tearstained face. Nobody laughed, nobody even appeared shocked, but a few of the men and one woman had trouble meeting my eyes. But I survived - even without armour.

Another good exercise was to visualise ourselves standing relaxed "here" in the present, then physically turn around and visualise ourselves walking backwards in time through our lives, noting the people and events - and the feelings - that we have lived. Several people were sobbing by the time she led us down to 18 years old, and she kept on going to earliest childhood. She then turned us around again and had us walk forward to the present, by which time most of us were or had been in tears. We then split into pairs to discuss what we had seen. As I arrived at around twelve years old, I had thought "I buried him alive". The revelation was when I arrived back in the present: I thought "I have had a wonderful, happy life. I have been surrounded by love - and either took it for granted, didn't notice that it was offered me, or else rejected it out of fear that accepting it would commit me to ... what? Happiness?"

The main event (as I experienced it) was the reconciliation meetings (Versöhnungsgespräche): We sit in pairs, I am to be active, the other is a silent presence. I close my eyes and think of someone who hurt me in a way that still affects my life, that inhibits my giving or receiving love; and I invite that person to sit down with me (in the place of the silent presence), and I tell them what they did and how it affected me, and listen to their response (to which I in turn respond). I then forgive them. Sounds easy, right? All I can say is, "Don't try this at home." Everyone cried. Oh, there was wailing, and howls of rage, and choked voices and sobbing. The very air was damp with tears. Oh, it was hard.

My partner (who went first) was a petite woman whom I had noticed on Friday evening at dinner: very chirpy, active, the life of the party. All armour: the woman who sat down with me was still, quiet and sad. She closed her eyes, the instructor said "Now visualise the person you want to talk to," and the first tear trickled out. It was heart-rending, I cried while listening to her (and am in tears again now, remembering her). It was the most emotionally intense moment of my life.

Since people who know my personal history read this blog, I don't want to be specific about which ghost I summoned. I expected that I would be enraged, but it didn't work out that way: I recognized (ah, too late) that it had been not ill-will but fear on her side, and saw how my own fears had fed hers. In the end I apologised and asked her to forgive me. And since you asked, yes, I cried buckets.

It felt wonderful afterwards; well, wonderful is not quite the word: I felt harrowed, shaken to the core, torn and tattered; but it was also a liberation. It was like letting go of a ten-ton weight; it was like being lifted up and carried by a gentle breeze.

Saturday finished off with group massage (three people massaging one) which was absolutely lovely.

Today started with the Heart Chakra Meditation, which I found a wonderful way to start the day. One of the group pointed out that there are two ways of doing the meditation: with your hand up palm outwards like a traffic cop (pushing energy away from you), or with your hand out flat, palm upwards, offering up the energy; and that the way you hold your hands makes a tremendous difference in the effect of the meditation. I was dubious but it's absolutely true: I could do the meditation palm-upwards for West, East and South but not North, that was too emotionally loaded. I had to do palm-outwards for the North steps.

Today's sessions were much lighter, and concentrated on living the love that we have in us; much dancing while maintaining eye contact: seeing into the other person, welcoming their love, showing them ours. You may think, "That can't possibly work, how can one love a bunch of strangers, and why should they love you?" but that misses the point: it's not "I love you" but simply "I love". There is love in me which animates me, which radiates from me, which I wish to bestow - perhaps on you, if you would accept it. It works marvellously well. We glowed, we were radiant with love and happiness, we were all so beautiful.

My name is Udge.

I am a believer, born again.

I love.