The House of belonging

On the cusp of the new calendar year, I find myself deeply resting. There is a sense in me of deep need for rest. Preparing for the wheel of time to keep turning. 

I have been contemplating David Whyte’s poem “The House of Belonging” (this is an excerpt- the full poem is at the end of this blog):

“This is the bright home
in which I live,
this is where
I ask
my friends
to come,
this is where I want
to love all the things
it has taken me so long
to learn to love.

This is the temple
of my adult aloneness
and I belong
to that aloneness
as I belong to my life.

There is no house
like the house of belonging.”

For a long time I felt I did not belong on this land of Australia.

I belonged with my family – a very large and noisy family –  who live here. I was born here. But I always felt drawn to the land of Ireland. And it’s true that I do feel most at home there – spiritually – and “in my skin”- in a way that has been so hard to find here in Australia. 

I realise that the bones of my ancestors are not here. The layers of earth under my feet do not contain them. And yet my home is created here. The bright cords of my heart’s love are here. My parents, my siblings, my children and grandchildren and my beloved partner. 

Here in these mountains “is where I want to love all the things it has taken me so long to learn to love.” I am here. It is now, and “there is no house like the house of belonging.”

At the end of the Calendar year and moving into 2021, may you find your house of belonging, and may the year to come hold love and many dreams-come-true.


“The House of Belonging”

BY DAVID WHYTE 

I awoke
this morning
in the gold light
turning this way
and that
thinking for
a moment
it was one
day
like any other.

But
the veil had gone
from my
darkened heart
and
I thought

it must have been the quiet
candlelight
that filled my room,
it must have been
the first
easy rhythm
with which I breathed
myself to sleep,

it must have been
the prayer I said
speaking to the otherness
of the night.

And
I thought
this is the good day
you could
meet your love,
this is the gray day
someone close
to you could die.

This is the day
you realize
how easily the thread
is broken
between this world
and the next

December 2020 Newsletter

Hi There

Although I have trained in many psychotherapeutic modalities since the 1980s, over all that time, the modality I kept going back to was Psychodrama.

Psychodrama is a group psychotherapy action method which was developed by Dr Jacob Levy Moreno (1889-1974) last century. The method is also used in one-to-one and relationship therapy these days. Psychodrama is also a developmental theory comprising of a theory of personality and development, called role theory. It is a sociological theory comprising of the science of sociometry: the measurement of relationships and connection in groups and community. 

The reasons I love psychodrama in particular and why I chose to train as a psychodramatist (which took 12 quite intense years) are many. 

– It’s ALL about relationships
–It involves engagement and development of thinking, feeling and action (the 3 components of role), which few other psychotherapies do.
–Creativity and Spontaneity are the cornerstones of psychodrama
–It works

A note on the length of training: I completed my training (through AANZPA) relatively quickly. The training is not comparable to other education systems. It is based on role development, and progression through the training is driven by the trainee to a large extent. It also involves extensive personal development work. That is, my thesis and practical assessments were done only when my roles had developed adequately for me to step forward and say I was ready. 

Here is a quote I love from Zerka Moreno (in “The Quintessential Zerka” p.43). (She was J.L.Moreno’s wife) 

“Moreno’s vision was so comprehensive. With him, one worked all the time because life was constantly presenting itself to us. Everything was about relationships-ours to each other, extending to our near and far social atoms.”

The Cave of Shadows

Have you ever wondered
Where in your body 
Or perhaps your mind
Is tucked away
The Cave of Shadows?
And if the Keeper of the Cave (a fierce warrior by all accounts)
Would allow you in
(or perhaps let them out)
Who or what might these shadows be?
Yours
You

There might be a tuneful singer
Who comes warily to the cave entrance
And suddenly shouts in retreat
“But I cannot sing!”
And as you lie in the softness of dreams
You hear your own beautiful voice of song as it drifts from some dark cranny at the back of the Cave.

And here are the terrified/terrorised and angry ones.
The Keeper takes special care that they remain inside
They are small. Tiny and mis-shapen
They have the sneakiest ways of escape
And when they get past the ever-vigilant Keeper of the Cave
(because they can)
They grow
Like a stain of ink in water.

Have you ever wondered who or what
Lives in your Cave of Shadows
And have you met the Keeper of the Cave?
Yet.

The Cave of Shadows is the residence somewhere within your psyche and body of all those disowned, disavowed roles in you. They reside – pushed into the dark as things that are fear full or provocative or unacceptable somehow. 

A cordial meeting with the Keeper of the Cave is a necessary venture if you wish to become intimate with the unconscious in your life. It is the work of a lifetime to bring the shadows of the unconscious into consciousness. Only then will we have a choice. 

November Newsletter

Here in the southern hemisphere Beltaine came last week (8th November) and we are still glowing in its’ aftermath – we are heading fast toward summer time. Last year we had horrendous bush fires, however it seems much damper this year in the Blue Mountains. 

I spent a wonderful 5 days off grid with my oldest friend Annie during this past lunar cycle. We have been friends since I was 11 and she was 12. There is such extraordinary value and pleasure in being with someone who has a long and close connection. Nourishment – which is one of my ongoing commitments to myself.

Read full newsletter here

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Longing and Apprenticing to my Muse

You might have noticed the picture of the sculpture (The Age of Maturity) at the top of my Psychodrama webpage (and above, here). Quintessential Longing. It was quite difficult to find a picture, but I love the yearning in Camille Claudel’s (1864-1943) work. The soul-full faces and bodies. The movement. My favourite is La Valse (below).

Have you heard of Camille Claudel? She was a lover of Auguste Rodin (he of “The Kiss’ (below) and “The Thinker”)- She was his Muse

The Kiss: Auguste Rodin (1840-1917)

I have read a lot (not recently though, so be warned that what I write is shaped by the peculiar prisms of my memory) about both Rodin and Claudel. I have been to Paris many times now and my favourite museum has always been the Musee Rodin. I know that Claudel had deep longings and passions. I know that they said she was mad and imprisoned her in an insane asylum (apparently an all to frequent residence for passionate women back then). She loved Rodin and she learnt from him (and he from her). She was his Muse (perhaps he was hers) and he rejected her. She longed for him. By all accounts he was cruel to her. Undoubtedly she suffered.

So then I wondered……. what is a Muse… and who or what is mine?  Am I rejecting of her, cruel in my not listening to her? Having recently been encouraged by the wonderful writer Geneen Marie Haugen (more on Geneen in another post) to apprentice to my Muse, I have begun this exploration.

I glanced at her and took my glasses off- they were still singing. They buzzed like a locust on the coffee table and then ceased. Her voice belled forth, and the sunlight bent. I felt the ceiling arch, and knew that nails up there took a new grip on whatever they touched. “I am your own way of looking at things,” she said. “When you allow me to live with you, every glance at the world around you will be a sort of salvation.” And I took her hand. (When I met My Muse by William Stafford)

“I am your own way of looking at things”…. WILL you allow me to live with you? This is my Longing and my Question. I know the answer to be YES.

This is where Psychodrama takes me as I follow my Longing.

Counselling and Psychotherapy