DAY 3 We didn’t know each other at all when Elia said to me: “Next time you’re here, come to Cyprus.” And I did, next time I flew from Athens to Cyprus for some days. When I arrived she’d arranged a night out with the few people I already knew here, my fellow Eutaptics Practitioners.
Two of them I met three years before in Budapest where we did our first seminar with Robert Smith and they became my buddies for practicing Eutaptics. During the years we’ve been swapping many sessions via Skype, so we got to know each other quite well. When you work this way, you get to know someone’s struggle, pain, resistance and you help each other solve it by changing bad memories to better ones and, when you do it right, you laugh and learn a lot together. Two of them and Elia I met more recently in Athens, when I was assisting Smith in Eutaptics Level 1.
Now I’m here in Cyprus again and this time she has arranged a Greek Night for all of us. All the week she’s been busy with it, calling with the Chef about the menu, according to my not eating anything with a heart and I asked her to keep it simple. I love salads. But yesterday I told her I feel too fragile and unstable to be in the crowd, to walk, take humps or stairs, so it’s cancelled.
I’m still light headed, busy with complicated projects like reaching the bathroom in time, so I miss most of the conversation Elia is having on the phone and also sometimes when she speaks to me. I have no idea about who’s coming or not, but suddenly they’re all here. Katherina brings homemade carrotcake and they get nice Libanese food. Very good stuff. They haven’t been all together since I was here the last time and they say I have to keep coming back to be the glue to keep them connected. I accept the job. It’s a beautiful night. I mean, if I had planned to break a leg, it was the best choice to do it now and to do it HERE.
I feel blessed being surrounded by these lovely people. And when some start to dance I’m dancing too, sitting in my two chairs, one for me and one for my legs. And my heart is dancing along. When they’re all gone and I’m in bed, trying to find a position to fall asleep by creating comfort for the leg and the cast, I’m wondering again about my connection with this place and the people here. If I had past lives I had one at least in this area. Feeling home, like we’re all siblings of the same parents. There might be many differences, but in the state I’m in now, I only see and feel what we have in common. Might be the drugs I’m using? 😉
Last Thursday I realised how different I felt and behaved while I was in the hospital. This is the result of a session I’ve done with the help of Andreas, some time ago. To practice Eutaptics we were each others clients (guinee pigs), so we set a date every week. One session for him, one for me, etc.
Just before we connected on Skype we picked something to work on and one time I told him I knew I’d been in hospital for 7 weeks, before I was two years old. I knew the story only by what my mother told me, but I had no memories. What I did have was a very uncomfortable feeling in hospitals and anger towards the whitecoats. For years I thought it was normal, because I only got there when my loved ones were sick. I remember visiting my grandparents there and I guess I was afraid to loose them. But it was a kind of rage I felt when I entered the place and smelt it, no matter the reason I had to be there, also when I needed their help. I’ve been training Young Doctors on their selfreflection and communication skills. Nice young people with a mission. Nothing wrong with them, but I felt there was something inside me.
And I wanted to change it, so I asked Andreas to help me changing bad memories which I didn’t remember. And he did. Everytime I told him: “I don’t remember” he said: “That’s okay, make it up.” Which I did and while I spoke I listened to myself and thought: maybe this has really happened, maybe not. Who cares? Anyway, it was very effective. I can’t recount what happened, but the rage is gone, just gone. And I realised this very much when I was brought into the Ygia Policlinic Private Hospital this week. It was different than ever before. I surrendered and I was kind to all of them, the whitecoats, the bluecoats and the nocoats. I loved them and appreciated their help and I thanked them all the time.
I’ve changed a lot, since I’m doing this work and had many sessions myself. Of course I would never imagine to go to Cyprus to break a leg to understand this. There’s no logic in there. Exactly. Shit happens, shiFt happens. No logic. It works.
To be continued … (Part of my 100 days of healing tour)
© Jeannette van Uffelen