I was blessed to be able to attend a recent teaching by Nick Totton (author of ‘Embodied Relating’ among many others), which was profound on many levels. There were a number of threads that were sparked within me that I’d like to bring here.
I’ve always felt that we are inherently elemental beings looking to be in relationship with the world around us. We search for resonance and for connection as we also search for reflection to enable us to establish who we are in the world.
Nick talked about the three different aspects of relating – relationship with our own process and self, relationship with other people, and relationship with the non-human aspects of the world. This made me think of how we oscillate between balance and non-balance. We can have times in life where we are obsessed about our own process to the exclusion of everything else. What brings harmony here is to be in service of others, or to spend time resourcing in nature and allowing the bigger picture of the macro ecosystem to find a resting place within us. We can also have times where we are obsessed with a relationship with a partner, to the exclusion of everything else. And we can also disassociate from the human world so much that we are just residing in the non-human world. What I was sensing is that this is a continual dance throughout the whole of life and how important it is to our wellbeing to have relationships with all aspects.
I've realised as I get older that my driving force in life is an addiction. An addiction to harmony and balance. Where I see sadness, I want to bring laughter; where I see grief, I want to bring peace and where I see harshness, I want to bring gentleness.
I am constantly aware of the state of people around me, being an empath, which can at times overwhelm and turn me into a hermit. I find gardening helps with that. Or walking by the sea. Basically just being in nature without any two leggeds around for a while!
However, being an empath is also a gift and as we humans are relational beings, the complete life of a hermit feels a waste for me. Thus, I've naturally been drawn to vocations where my listening and sensing skills can be a positive benefit. Firstly in the corporate world, navigating as a change agent and bringing new projects forth with as little ripple as possible, then post children (a time in life when perspective shifts dramatically about what is important, and rightly so) studying as a counsellor, following a shamanic apprenticeship and deciding to become a craniosacral therapist.
Craniosacral therapy suits me down to the ground. It is gentle and profound. It allows the client to come back to a place of harmony and balance. It allows me to use my listening and intuitive skills and be in service of something bigger than myself: the breath of life, expressed in the tides within us.
The words not said are as important as the words said in the taking of a case history. And the body tells its own story, which may or may not match with the words or the reason for coming. This is why I love craniosacral therapy:
Mystery unfolds. Memories resurface. Tension is released. Fascia unwinds. Breathing deepens. Space is taken up again. Spirit feels to settle once more within the sea of oneself. Tides rise and fall. Time stands still. Freedom beckons. Wings stretch. Stillness restores.