Reports from workshop participants
The question was 'Why am I opening myself up to all this when I'm in such a good place in myself at the moment?' Having spent years sorting myself out in therapy and now working myself as a counsellor, I guard my well being zealously. I still had a pain in my heart about my family, but it was certainly less than it had been throughout most of my life. So, on the first morning of a weekend 'Orders of Love' workshop I decided to leave the workshop and go home to do some gardening. I knew that I would participate in a workshop when the time was right. The time felt right for the next one some six months later – except the night before the workshop I was haunted by nightmares and filled with foreboding. The course was due to start on the Friday evening and, during the day, I felt more and more ill – so much so that I phoned to cancel and took to my bed. I was then overtaken by enormous regret and felt that an opportunity was lost. I changed my mind and went along, feeling grateful for the patience of the group facilitator.
As the course progressed, I entered into other people's constellations and grew more confident in my ability to open up to the energy and remain grounded. I began to enjoy myself as I saw people sharing unique experiences, being moved by each other and what was happening between us. I went home at the end of the first full day with my fear and foreboding well in the background, until I rang my Mother. She sounded dreadful and I knew she was trying to sound okay. Her voice was frail and depressed, but she insisted that she didn’t need a Doctor. She had been life threateningly ill during the previous four years and, if things were really serious, she never complained. I began to feel myself falling apart as I always did when she sounded low. All my life I had danced to bring a smile to her face and I was very, very tired of it all – but I just didn't know how to stop, because wanting her to know wellness and to feel happy at some time in her life meant so much to me. I began to think that I shouldn't have gone on the course. I believed I was killing her because inside I knew that 'You don't go messing with the supernatural and things we don't understand.' It was my fault – if I tried to move the pain I felt in my heart whenever I talked about my Mum's life, I would destroy us all. Things had to stay as they were or she would die. Everything, as always, was up to me. I was terrified and the night was very, very long.
In the morning, my partner offered to go and see if Mum needed a Doctor and promised to let me know if I was needed. I drove to the course, crying most of the way and desperate for something to be different. I hoped and hoped that something could change for my Mum – but also for me.
My heart's desire that morning? To put down my burden and to bring some healing to my family. The constellation unfurled. 'I' was smiling and laughing at my 'Mother' ('Look at me, Mummy, I'll make you happy'). The scenario changed to France and my Grandmother despatching my Mum at four years old to an orphanage after her Father died – the deep sobbing of my 'Mother' in the constellation at his death and her longing to be with him. In reality, of course, she never cried about anything. I did it for her.
We moved further back to my Great Grandfather, Theo, and his wife Louise. Theo had been a prisoner of war during World War 1 for over 4 years and had been repatriated in Switzerland in 1918. He and Louise had three children – the eldest, my Grandmother Madeleine, my great Aunt Angela and little Gayle whose name both my Mum and I share. Little Gayle died in the 'flu epidemic of 1919 at 4 years old. Louise had been pregnant with her when Theo left and Gayle died before he ever saw her. The person representing Theo in my constellation was filled with terror and found it hard to stay in the room. I imagined that it was his wartime experiences. The constellation changed again and the focus became Mum and I. I don’t remember too much about the words that were exchanged – but I felt the most enormous gratitude to everyone and a sense of relief. I’m not one to feel great attachments to groups these days. I’ve been in many and learned and shared a great deal in them but I’m way past the ‘let’s exchange phone numbers’ that used to feature so much for me as I struggled with the endings. In this group, I genuinely felt privileged and honoured to have been part of all that happened.
Those experienced in this work will find nothing new in my writing – but there are some things that have amazed me as a consequence of my weekend. Firstly, as the days went by, my Mum got better. She told me she had wanted to 'Go to sleep and never wake up' whilst I was doing the workshop. Of course, her 'going to sleep and never waking up' had been vividly enacted during that weekend. As for historical facts, it transpired that Theo had an affair in Switzerland after his repatriation. He had an illegitimate son and blamed himself when little Gayle died. Mum seemed to think he thought it was retribution for his misdeeds. I told Mum a bit about it all and there was no surprise when she said that we 'shouldn't go messing with the Supernatural'. When I explained that it was in respect and honour of our family, she accepted that. Looking back, I think that it was her voice on this matter that made me so ill on Friday and why it was so hard to go to the workshop. It's like I knew she would say that, and that's always been the trouble.
The biggest change for me has been that I can talk about my Mum's life and not want to cry. I could always talk knowledgeably about my over attachment to my Mother. I could blah, blah, blah for England and even make funny jokes about Mothers and Daughters – but the pain never left. It's only since that weekend that I've had some relief from it. I can't quite believe it will never come back – but I sincerely hope it will never return. Last week I really looked into my Mum's increasingly blind eyes and, for the very first time, I fully realised that it was what she would want.