Coming back to me

"Come back, come back, come back to me," I silently plead as I cry on all fours, with elbows supporting me so my hands can cover my head.

I am at a workshop called Heart of Grief into Breath. There are others on the floor, sounding, moving, breathing. I am the only one sobbing. And I am grateful for this release.

It started with me flat on my back, hands on my belly, asking not only my hands to feel my gut, but asking my gut to open up to receiving/perceiving/feeling me. Fourteen years ago I lost 2/3 of my intestine. Yes. Two thirds. Although I miraculously digest and eliminate normally, there was a time when nobody was sure if I would. And although what's left of my intestine is doing an amazing job, I've always thought more about what's missing than what's there. So as I imagine what's beneath my hands, beneath the skin, I hear my remaining intestines remind me that they are still here. I recognize that in this visualization and silent dialogue, I'm essentially having a SomatoEmotional Release session with myself. And it's working. As I listen to what my gut says, I acknowledge that sometimes I am too busy thinking about what I've lost to appreciate what I still have.

With this acknowledgment I feel a shift. The imagery is clearer, and I feel my hands being felt, not just my hands doing the feeling. This is progress. So then I move on to my heart, but someone next to me is making a sound that puts me into fight or flight mode. So I flee. I get up and leave the room for a few minutes.

When I return, I get on all fours, but low to the ground, so my forearms and elbows are supporting me. I let my heart and belly hang. Like a sphynx. I place my hand on my head, on my "exit wound"-- where I imagine myself exiting whenever I leave my body. It's a sometimes tender spot on the upper right side of my head. And as soon as I touch it, I begin to cry. And then I begin calling myself back into myself. "Come back, come back, come back to me."

But it's not until I speak out, having a conversation with myself out loud in a partnered exercise a little bit later, that I feel that distant part of myself come back to me. And what that feels like is a sense of alertness and feeling more fully "here." For the past 24 hours or more, I'd mostly felt heavy and tired. Now I felt light, alert, and more fully present than before.

And as I see those words, "come back to me," I'm reminded of how breathing in helps us come back to ourselves. Earlier yesterday we'd been discussing some people's tendency to lose themselves when in relationship. To sacrifice authenticity for communion. One of the workshop leaders suggested using breath to help ourselves come back to ourselves. Inhale into self, exhale and connect with the other. Inhale, coming back to self. Exhale, extending self to other. Inhale, I see myself. Exhale, I see you too. Inhale, checking back in with self. And so on...

© 2010 Rebecca Clio Gould. All rights reserved.

How to Have Fun

He asked me what I wanted to learn, what I wanted him to teach me. I said I don't know. But as I sat with the question, one word kept coming to mind: fun.

A couple nights later I tell him this as we start our dance. He insists I already know how to have fun. What does he know? I start to insist that I don't, but then he twirls me around. And I smile. I open up to the possibility that I do know how to have fun, that I don't need to be taught this. I consider that it's more a matter of my self-perception. My attitude. A feeling, or lack of feeling. So it may appear to others that I not only know how to have fun but also have a lot of fun, but sometimes I'm not fully allowing myself the freedom to fully enjoy my freedom to fully enjoy. Does that make sense?

As the dance continues, I ask for suggestions of something else to learn, and he suggests exploring more ways to love myself. And that really is just what I need. I'm pretty good at lovin' myself up, to some extent. Now it's time to go deeper. Now it's time to go higher. People always say you can't love others unless you love yourself. Not sure I agree. Sometimes I agree, but sometimes, like tonight, I don't. Sometimes I need the golden rule in reverse: do to myself as I would do to others-- love, accept, encourage, etc. Yes. That sounds right. What would I say to a friend or client or student who felt he or she needed to learn how to have fun? Surely something about releasing fears and shame, being worthy and deserving of fun and all the richness that life has to offer. Surely something about self-love.

I'd also ask, "what is fun? What do you enjoy?" And suddenly, in this moment, as I ask myself those questions, I realize something. Something about semantics. Fun vs. Enjoyment. Although there's plenty that I enjoy doing alone (and enjoy plenty of alone time), it's the sharing of experiences with someone, or somepeople, that makes something really "fun." So I guess the word "fun," for me, implies something about a shared experience. The "fun" that I have when I'm alone, I don't usually refer to it as "fun." Hmmmm.... I wonder if realizing all this will shift something in me, if I'll feel that quality of "fun" even when alone. I certainly can see that happening. Actually, I've seen it, experienced it, in the past. And it does have something to do with self-love. So exploring more ways to love myself most likely will teach me something about fun. Perhaps it just did.

And so goes the dance...

© 2010 Rebecca Clio Gould. All rights reserved.

Deciding Not to Go

Seems I’m getting better at making decisions these days, getting better at not just hearing that initial voice, but listening to it. Trusting it. Learning what it feels like to just know what’s best without a whole lot of second guessing.

Last night I decided not to go to a party, and not to go to dance either. I felt I had to be with my parents. I didn’t know why. But I knew I had to go to their house for dinner. Oh, and Reiki. After spending the past couple of mornings by my friend’s bedside in the hospital, I was feeling the need to receive some healing touch myself, so I enlisted my mom.

The phone call came towards the end of dinner. My mom came back to the table with teary eyes and said that her dad had just passed away. I was a bit shocked. After all, I had just made that big decision to go see him, to hop on a plane on Monday. But I was also feeling grateful. Grateful that I had listened to my gut about being at my parents’ house that night. Grateful that I had decided to go to Florida, even though now it was too late….

And last night I felt really clear that I wouldn’t be getting on that plane on Monday. I felt it was best for me to stay home now. To be with my mom since she can’t leave town and go to the funeral. To be here for me too. It just felt like the best thing to do. I knew that I had to stay, just as strongly as I had known that I needed to go.

This morning I woke up with some questioning, but it didn’t last long. As soon as I heard myself talking to my aunt and then my friend about it, I realized that there was no need to think it over any longer. I knew. I know. So I’ve decided not to go.


© 2010 Rebecca Clio Gould. All rights reserved.

Deciding to Go

Last weekend my grandfather went into hospice. When I heard the news, I knew I had to go see him. So I called my grandmother to check in with her. She advised me not to go.
“I hate to tell you not to come, Becky. I really do. Because I love you, and I would love to see you, but it’s not a good time. Wait until things get better.”
But as she told me a little bit about how my grandfather was doing, I realized it wasn’t going to get better, and so I called her on that.
“You’re telling me to wait for a better time to come, but--”
“I think the time has passed,” she said.
“Well then, I want to come now,” I said.
“I really think you’ll be upset when you see him. I really think it’s better for you to remember him as he was, Becky.”
I told her I’d sit with that, that maybe she was right. Perhaps there was some wisdom in her words. After all, in that same phone call she did spout of plenty of positive words of wisdom, encouraging me to live life to the fullest, that now is the time to go out there and do things, to take risks. She encouraged me to leave Anacortes, to live in Seattle, to focus on my writing. So for the next few days I sat with her words. I questioned my impulse to visit.
Did I really need to go? Why go? Out of guilt? No. Out of obligation? No. But it took me a few days to remember the clarity of that original need to go, when I had first heard the news. And what was fueling that desire, that crystal clear “I’ve gotta go,” was love. As I remembered this I also remembered the importance of making decisions that are love-based, rather than fear-based.
The only reasons for not going to visit my grandfather were fear based: should I really cancel my clients and classes? How will that affect my clients and students? What if it is more upsetting than I can imagine? What if I am better off remembering him as he was, and not seeing him how he is now? (but I still will remember him as he was, and I’m already imagining him as he is now, so what’s the difference? ) What if I don’t like staying with my aunt and uncle? What if the negativity and stress of my relatives affects me negatively? Is this going to be draining for me? Etcetera, etcetera, bullshit. What a bunch of fear-based bullshit.
What matters most is love. As I drove down from Anacortes to Seattle yesterday, I realized that there was no need to sit with this question any longer. It was time to do what I knew was right. No more worrying about what my clients or students would think or feel about me canceling on them. No more worrying about if going would actually be bad for me. As soon as I got to Seattle, I would buy my ticket and cancel all my appointments and classes for the next week or two. And so that’s exactly what I did. And what a relief it is to embrace this freedom I have to leave for a week of two, rather than feel enslaved. Oooooh, just might have to write about this whole freedom/enslavement thing in more depth some time.....But for now, this is all.

© 2010 Rebecca Clio Gould. All rights reserved.

So Hard to Ask

The Note I posted on Facebook this morning:

It's always been hard for me to ask for help. It's actually easier for me to ask for help with things like emotional support, processing, bodywork, etc, than things like moving furniture, hanging a mirror or painting on the wall, putting together an outfit, etc. Silly. But true. And last week I was faced with confronting this challenge. I needed help moving furniture, and I couldn't put it off any longer. [Gulp.] May not sound like a big deal to you, but it was a big deal for me, both the asking and the receiving..... I didn't grow up with parents who asked friends or community for help, so I didn't have that as a model. I'm also seeing now that there are issues of control/fear and self-worth that make asking for help a challenge.

So when I sent out an email to a dozen guys in Seattle the other day, asking if anyone could help move a bed for me, that was really hard for me. Sending out an email to new and old friends and acquaintances, and even to exes, was less scary than calling or emailing just a few directly, but it was still scary. So thanks to all of you who were on that email list, even if only as a sort of buffer! ;)

Now, why was it so scary? In addition to what I mentioned above: Not wanting to inconvenience anyone. Not wanting anyone to get hurt while helping me. And afraid of NOT getting the help I was asking for-- perhaps that was the scariest of all.

But within just a few minutes of sending that email, my phone rang. Heronemo, who I had just met last weekend, was ready and eager to help. And then an email from Kerry came in a few minutes later. And then Adrian, and Scott, and Dave, and Bruce. And John Blunt, who I had just met briefly a couple of months ago, offering his van?! Wow! I felt so relieved. Loved. Supported. Trusting. Relieved. Yes, relief came up a lot. And gratitude.

So much gratitude both for the actual physical help, and also for what this was teaching me and how it was helping me grow. I also received some feedback that my email and how it all unfolded was useful and healing not just to me but for others. What a gift. That email went out on Wednesday. Heronemo and Kerry used John's van on Friday to move the bed. And although it started off "so hard" it was actually all "so easy." So thank you, thank you, thank you. I am happy to have a bed in my new place, not just to sleep in, but also to serve as a reminder of friends and community and that it's more than ok to ask for help.


© 2010 Rebecca Clio Gould. All rights reserved.

The Language of Love: Hungarian?!?!

Yes, Hungarian. Since my Hungarian ex-husband and I split, in 2005, I've continued to sometimes think in Hungarian. I've usually said it's mostly when I'm irritated (i.e. muttering insults under my breath when a bad driver cuts me off in traffic). But what I've realized recently is that I also think in Hungarian when I'm feeling a lot of love and affection for someone (i.e. terms of endearment).

I'm in L.A., staying with Galit and Robi, who speak Hungarian to each other and to their 20-month-old son Misi (s=sh). I like hearing it, and it's amazing how much I understand what they're saying. I met Galit my first day at Hampshire College. We became the best of friends right away. She was a clown. I was afraid of clowns. She was a comedian. I loved to laugh. She was a Pisces. I was a Virgo. We looked somewhat alike. It was perfect.

Right before our last year of school, she married her Hungarian guy, and we all lived together, along with another friend. At their wedding was where I met my ex. I started learning Hungarian right away and loved it. It was fun! And funny. I loved making up words, like combining the words for "cow" and "baby" instead of learning the word for "veal." I loved the way some of the words sounded, especially words with "cs" for some reason (cs=ch). Kivancsi. Kecske. Csucs. What else?

Misi lights up when I speak to him in Hungarian, calling him things like "kis majom" (little monkey). I look at him and think about how in a parallel universe, I'd be pregnant right about now. Speaking Hungarian to my own little baby. That had been the plan. But it wasn't meant to be. Despite how dangerously cute our children would have been, my ex-husband and I are on such different planets/paths now that I am so grateful we said goodbye when we did. But before we said goodbye, I was deeply influenced by this relationship; he was my first love (at least what I thought of as "love" at the time). And so Hungarian did become my language of love, the language in which to express terms of endearment. Sounds strange to me to say "sweetie," but "edeske" rolls off the tip of my tongue. So although there's a lot that I learned at that time that I needed to unlearn, the language has remained a deeply ingrained part of me. And I'm realizing now that that's not such a bad thing. It used to bother me. But not anymore. Although Hungarian's not super useful language, I do still care about and keep in touch with my ex, his family (puszi, eszter!), and his friends (szia puli!)-- and Galit and Robi and Misi of course. So whatever....I'm relieved that it no longer stirs up a sense of loss, but instead brings a smile to my face and reminds me how lucky I am, not only to have experienced all I did in that relationship (good and bad), but that it all worked out by not working out. All is just as it should be. Es nem akarom hurkat. (Andi, you remember that? ;))


© 2010 Rebecca Clio Gould. All rights reserved.

Santa Cruz, days 3 & more

The past 5 days have been like a dream. A very good dream. What happened on Day 3 in Santa Cruz? I went for a walk with Word and was in awe of all the green. Green, green, green everywhere. I laughed as I remembered that I brought my green color therapy glasses. Usually I travel with red. And usually I never even use them! But I thought it was funny that I brought my green glasses. Who needs green glasses when there are forests to walk through and loving friends to help heal and open the heart?

After the walk, I received a Medical Qigong/Acutonics/CranioSacral session from Word. Lots of energy flowing, and I learned a new qigong and healing sounds exercise for the health of my gall bladder. The sound is “Shu,” which made me laugh because I often think , “Shhhhhh” when my liver and gall bladder get over-stressed with planning and decision-making.

After the session, I decided not to go run errands with Word and to just lounge around and integrate the session until 6-ish when a couple of other ladies arrived at the house for a New Moon Gathering. It was a sweet gathering, just 5 of us, discussing astrology and sharing our intentions. We sat in a circle on the floor and used rose quartz as the talking stone. It reminded me of Heart Circle, which would happen once a week at Heartwood. It was one of the things I missed after leaving Heartwood, that weekly check in, speaking from the heart, witnessing and being witnessed.

The only challenge for me was the sitting; my back was experiencing a lot of physical and energetic shifting around, thanks to the earlier session. After the share, we did some eye-gazing. I noticed that I no longer feel uncomfortable with that exercise itself (and man did I used to!), but I felt my body shutting down, needing sleep, and so I listened to my body and stretched out on the ground instead of finishing the 2nd round of eye-gazing. It felt good to listen to myself. To not force it. This was in line with one of my intentions, which was/is to do what’s really best, not to let a sense of obligation or what other’s might think influence me. But to really be in integrity and honor my voice of inner-knowing.

The next day I thought I’d leave Santa Cruz and spend a night alone. Wasn’t sure where. Thought I might even drive to L.A. rather than fly. I drove Word an hour south to Monterey, dropped him off, and ended up at the beach in Carmel. I stretched out in the sand and listened to the waves. Soaked up some sun. Again, I listened to my body. My body was requesting stillness. And a massage. And so I found myself back at the round house in Santa Cruz.

Tangelina came in right after I arrived. We laughed over my attempted escape from “the vortex.” I shared with her how traveling South always feels so much easier than traveling North, and she said that’s what the Ents say. Ents? She explained and showed me a clip on YouTube from the 2nd Lord of the Rings. Ents are talking trees! I loved being in agreement with talking walking trees. So cool, right? We made a plan to watch Twin Towers that night. But first a massage!

And so I received an amazing massage from Tangelina. So glad I didn’t go to some random place in Monterey or Carmel. So glad I went back to Santa Cruz. Tangie has a great touch and energy. Plus she included belly and breasts, which so rarely get attention during massages. There was some intense sadness and grief coming up with my lower abdomen (my intestines and lack thereof), and we moved through it. One of the other highlights of the session was when she standing at my feet, not touching me, and I felt this spiral of energy and opening in my chest. I asked her if she had just done something hands-off. It turned out that she had put “etheric” acupuncture needles into my Kidney 1 points on my feet and twisted them a little. When she said that, I realized that where I felt the spiraling and opening was on the Kidney meridian and the extension of the meridian. Sweet!

Never did watch a movie, as someone arrived for a sort of follow-up to the New Moon Gathering. But we snuggled and laughed, and laughed some more. Good times indeed. So grateful to have spent some more time with this lovely lady. And the other ladies of the Round House. And of course with Word. And Fa Jun too. Hooray for another home away from home!

And now onward to another one or two in L.A. with my old college housemates, and their families, before I dive into the depths of the Continuum Movement retreat.


© 2010 Rebecca Clio Gould. All rights reserved.

Santa Cruz, days 1 & 2

Woke up this morning in Santa Cruz, to the sound of the rain, yes, rain! And lots of it. Pouring down, all around this roundhouse deep in the woods. When I look out the windows, all I see is green. And mist. Like being in gigantic treehouse. I love it here. And it's not just the house or the scenery; it's the the love and affection, the conversation, the laughter, the food, the qi, all flowing so freely.

Deb and I drove down yesterday, from Half Moon Bay. Actually, from Princeton, but Half Moon Bay sounds better, and they're neighbors, so whatever.....We drove down to Santa Cruz after a yummy breakfast of miso soup and mochi, and a long-awaited practice of Kuan Yin Sitting Qigong. We used to practice this together super early in the mornings, before Tai Ji, at Heartwood. When I practice this form alone, I often feel Deb with me in spirit. So good to actually be practicing together again.

And when we arrived in Santa Cruz, we were pleasantly surprised by our friends' home: a beautiful red round house in the woods. A warm welcome from Tangelina. Word was not home, but returned home soon. Deb whipped up some lunch for us. And the day was spent much like the previous day: eating healthy delicious nourishing food, lounging, and talking. Lots of laughter. Lots of love. I felt I was at home. So grateful to be here.

Another night of lots of dreams, waking up frequently to the pouring rain rather than the fog horn, but always falling back to sleep. Eventually got up for good, meditated seated, and then stood up to practice Kuan Yin Standing. Lots of qigong being practiced in this house. I could feel others' practices later in the morning. Inspired to line up some spring qigong classes, I took care of some business after breakfast.

AND THEN, I went out for the day. First to meet with Copperwoman, an amazingly inspirational singer/songwriter I had met in August. I went to her house, which happened to be close to where I was staying. We shared some of our stories, had some rich conversation, and then she fed me some lunch-- funny; before I came to California, I had a feeling that food and meals were going to be a huge part of the nurturing aspect of this trip, and I was right. She also gifted me with a c.d. I don't have yet. Looking forward to listening to it!

After visiting with Copperwoman, I went into town to meet with Fa Jun, formerly known as Christien, for more catching up and rich conversations. We covered all the basics: where we're living, business, relationships, spirituality, money, what else? Oh, that reminds me; last night I sat in on a women's phone conference/meeting, and the topic was money. Interesting stuff to hear and share varying experiences and perspectives on money.

I had some revelations that I'm not going to share here and now. But I am grateful for the conversations that contributed.

Said goodbye to Fa Jun, and walked down the street to the movie theatre. Thought it might be good to zone out, after so much condensed rich social interaction! But instead I went shopping, and within twenty minutes, the ladies I'm staying with called and said they were at that movie theatre about to see "Imaginarium," and so I joined them. So in the flow. And what a trip that movie was. Not sure it was much of a zone out, but that's ok. I'm about to zone out by going to sleep.

As I read back over this I want to write more about the specifics of today's conversations. But I'm just too wiped out, which is why this is mostly just a summary of the day without much depth....

   © 2010 Rebecca Clio Gould. All rights reserved.

Half Moon Bay

Waking up to a beautiful sunrise over Half Moon Bay....Yesterday was one long sweet day.....I woke up at my parents' house on Mercer Island.....My childhood best friend came over for tea.....Despite how much we've grown apart, it always ends up feeling good to catch up.....Went to the airport and remembered how much I love traveling.....Couldn't believe it had been 6 months since I'd been on a plane.....Thought back to the year that I flew every month or two.....4 trips to Austin, 3 or 4 trips to Cali, 1 trip to Arizona, am i forgetting something?

Started reading The Tao of Inner Peace on the plane, and I'm thinking about starting another blog related to that.....Arrived in Oakland in what felt like a blink of an eye.....Rented a car and drove to Half Moon Bay....The Ford Focus has awful visibility; I don't recommend it (chris, if you're reading this, which I doubt you are, tell your dad to fix the blindspots please).

Arrived at Deb's and Jeff's in Half Moon Bay....Jeff stayed away so we could have a "girl day."...Sweet, sweet Deb was ready and waiting with tortillas, avocados, quinoa salad, and a big warm full-body belly-to-belly hug (as always).....Mmmmmm.....We spent the afternoon and evening eating and lounging on pillows on the floor, talking and talking some more, and practicing a non-moving form of qigong.....Never made it outside for our walk, but will this morning....And right before going to sleep, Jeff didn't show up, but two of his friends did, and so we chatted for awhile, telling them a bit about our time at Heartwood together.....And then finally SLEEP!

So many strange dreams about keys/houses/auditoriums/crowds/chairs/what else?, and I woke up after each one.....Hearing the fog horn every 7 seconds.....Hearing the waves rolling in to the shore just as often, if not more....Waking up to a beautiful sunrise over Half Moon Bay.


© 2010 Rebecca Clio Gould. All rights reserved.