Ger Lyons, a traveling Irish mystic healer and our luminous friend, has finally arrived at the Center! What a grand way to anticipate a New Year, offering great hope for new beginnings and possibilities. Certainly, extraordinary personal transformation counts as a new beginning.
Ger's first workshop begins Friday night and I sit in the circle with my eyes closed. I vow to be present and aware every minute of the time we have together. Ger asks us to speak our intentions and concerns into our circle as a way of introducing ourselves. The participants are genuine and poignant, speaking of past abuse, loneliness, lack of love and betrayal. I wonder if there is anything I can contribute in the face of such intense human emotions. I consider the vast array of possibilities I have yearned for in my life, but end up asking for "understanding." "Boy, that's sounds lame. Am I already breaking my promise to be present," I ask myself.
As we conclude our introductions, Ger thanks us and begins to address the group's pain and grief. He asks, "Would anyone who has ever experienced abuse, stand up and repeat the following words after me." I hesitate before standing, but only for a fraction of a second. I know abuse. It is hard to be a woman, a physician and a mother without knowing this pain. Ger asks that any pain, numbness or abuse be amplified many times and brought out into the open, so it can be released. We all repeat in unison," I ask that any pain, past trauma, past abuse be uncovered, magnified and amplified. Bring it out into the open and release it." As I am saying this, it does literally feel like past traumas are being magnified and experienced again; traumas that were long forgotten and I thought, forgiven.
This process accesses the heart, rather than the mind, I realize. My mind feels tranquil, but in my heart I begin to feel unfamiliar and uncharitable emotions rise within me. It is not the love I was feeling just a few minutes ago. Rather, it is fury and rage, and it is building fast. Other participants are rather quiet, and acting fairly contained. Where is this shaking that I feel, coming from? Ger quietly asks if I would mind hitting the large Balinese gong in the room. I grab the striker as though I have the neck of a mortal enemy between my hands. I show no mercy, blasting the gong and almost severing it from the massive stand. My fury explodes into the room. I will NOT be abused. I will NOT numb myself. I will NOT hide from my light. I am stunned by the intensity and magnitude of these emotions, which just minutes ago, had been so completely hidden from my awareness. There is complete silence in the room. I feel alone, with my irate heart. I begin to berate myself, "How could I do this to the group? I should have toned it down." But then I feel recognition from the other participants. They too feel this rage buried from the past, and in that moment we are connected. Let us be a family together, I plead silently. Let us offer comfort to the parts of ourselves that have refused to be comforted.
As the workshop progresses I realize we are definitely in this together, all weekend and perhaps for an eternity for some of us. The generosity and magnitude of people's sharing is humbling; the healing we offer each other precious and numinous as we bravely open ourselves to the energies of transformation. One weekend ends and another begins with renewed intentions. It builds quickly, offering me insight into matters of the heart such as the experience of intense, endless suffering, which finally, like a spent wave, releases me to bliss.
As the final hours wind down, Ger plays a CD of David Whyte reciting his poetry. As his voice builds, I begin to feel the cold feet on the grey stone of which David speaks; they are mine. I see the open ocean, wild and free. I am that; timeless and surrendered, wild and free. David whispers, "Revelation must be terrible, knowing you can never hide your voice again... knowing you can never hide your voice again." "Yes, David," I respond silently. "Yes, my fellow travelers. And yes, Ger. Let us never hide our voice again. We will never hide our voice again."
Prudence Hall, MD
The Hall Center
Santa Monica, California
This information is for educational purposes only, and is not intended to treat or diagnose any health condition.