So much more than a sex dream... (cont'd)

The beginning of the week has been hectic as I knew it would... but here I am again and continuing with my dream interpretation (to see the dream, see post below)

We are four women... number four, completion, whole and in the feminine!! It feels huge to me, never before has this happen. It is so exciting. Yes, one of them I don't know but hey! I'm on a journey of discovery... and we are being introduced anyway at a later time and therefore I feel it goes in the "right" direction.
Again, the masturbation is a first I believe and again it feels like a celebration and an acceptance of my femininity and of the fact that I am a sexual being. This unknown woman may well represent the cultural feminine lineage in which I grew up as I've got to hide the "culprit" before I am introduced to her. If she does represent this she would believe that human being is not an animal and can raise above the sexual instincts and needs, control them and separate reproduction from pleasure. So yes, I might be accepting my own sexuality but it seems only in hiding from her at this point in time, as if to avoid her wrath! But next, the "dirty", earthy, primal goddess joins me in the form of a petite black woman. The fact that she is petite may well be pointing out to me that she's got some growing to do. But she's a nice looking woman in the dream, she exists and I give her some sexual pleasure without guilt or shame. Am I starting tapping into this sexual energy of mine, after many many moons of repression?

These are exciting times and exciting contents that my unconscious brings up to consciousness.

So much more than a sex dream...

I woke up to a dream just under an hour ago and although I've had others of great interest, I want to talk about this one in particular.


"I meet with some friends at an evening conference in London and as it finishes my friend Stephanie (not her real name) asks that we go for a drink. I'm happy with that. To get back to the street, we must walk across a large store. My shoes and the floor are very smooth and I run and slide on my feet, then run again and slide again, making wide turns in between the racks of clothes. I watch them as I pass by and notice a couple of item and think I might come back to try them on. I'm having fun.
Then Stephanie says it was her birthday not that long ago. I'm shocked and hardly believe it when she says that the actual date is 21st Feb, as it is my birthday, too... We've known each other for a while and I had never known! What a coincidence! She says that'll she'll have a proper party at a later date as her girlfriend can't make it that night.

Then we are 4 women. One of us I don't know but somehow we are being introduced much later so that when it does happen, we've had time to know who the other was and she is my cousin's girlfriend. Just before we are introduced to one another, I was masturbating with a vibrator and I take it off and walk to my bedroom and slide it under my pillow. My flatmate Toni is busy hoovering the lounge and then his bedroom (we avoid each other as we get past). As I walk back toward the others, a black woman, petite in size, comes close to me. We hug each other and we walk together holding each other. I caress her back and kiss her head with tenderness. She likes it and responds positively. When we arrive in the room where the others are, she lies down on her front and I kneel next to her and continue caressing her, her lower back, her bum, the back of her legs, while also watching the other women who have only their underwear on. The black woman opens her legs and I bend closer and run my fingers in her pubic hair. I know I will slide my finger up her yoni next and she moans with pleasure. The other women are doing the same to each other. Then the black woman turns around on her back and I would like to lick her fanny."

I wanted to share that dream because it feels like a celebration the the feminine in general and an almost complete acceptance of feminine values. The dream starts in a rational, masculine and Logos setting with a conference - thinking as opposed to feeling! But it moves on quickly to having fun, being child-like in the store. I'm not quite ready to get those new clothes that I like and that would show a different me to the world but I will come back for them. It is only a matter of time now, or at least it seems.
My friend Stephanie's birthday is not on 21st Feb in real life. I believe my dream is telling me that it is time for me to integrate the part(s) of me that resemble her - research scientist and lesbian, that is combining both the masculine and the feminine world...

I will come back to the rest of the dream later today... or more realistically later in the week! I feel I have been given a real gift this morning and it is only the beginning of the week!! Is it not wonderful?

Pour Bonne-maman

Il y a déjà 3 ou 4 semaines, ma grand-mère de 95 ans est tombée, à moitié renversée alors qu'elle allait rentrer dans l'ascenseur. Elle n'avait pas pensé que quelqu'un pouvait en sortir et certainement que l'autre personne n'avait pas pensé que quelqu'un pouvait y rentrer. Elle s'est cassé une vertèbre.

Bonne-maman, je l'appelle. Pour la 4ème génération, c'est Bonne-mimi.

Depuis 2 semaines, elle souffre le martyr et ne peut que difficilement bouger, et comme le disait si bien Jacques Brel, en quelques mois elle est passée "du lit à la fenêtre, du lit au fauteuil et du lit au lit"...

Et hier, les larmes ont coulé toute la journée, par intermittance. Elle n'a plus envie de se battre. La douleur est épuisante, trop présente. Bonne-maman souhaiterait en finir, être rappelée par celui qu'elle appelle le Seigneur. Alors je suis allée danser hier soir, le "5 Rhythms", cette pratique de méditation en mouvement qui fait vivre les émotions à travers le corps et non la tête. J'y suis partie la tête pleine de tristesse et les yeux bouffis d'avoir trop pleuré, certaine que davantage de larmes couleraient pendant la session. Et puis, j'ai été surprise...

J'ai à peine pensé à Bonne-maman pendant ces 3 heures et je me suis étonnée à sourire, à être bien, à partager qui j'étais dans l'instant avec des partenaires éphémères... Une fois ou l'autre, une pensée ou une question me traversait l'esprit, "où est passée ma tristesse?" Impossible de mettre le doigt dessus!

Pour finir la session, l'ensemble des danseurs forme un cercle au milieu duquel chacun peut jeter les mots qu'il souhaite. J'ai parlé de Bonne-maman, j'ai voulu lui dédier ma danse et lui souhaiter que la douleur cesse, même si pour en arriver là, il faut que ce soit sa vie qui s'en aille - si c'est ce qu'elle veut. C'est alors que plus de 100 personnes se sont donné la main et ont eu une pensée bienveillante pour Bonne-mimi! Mes larmes se sont remises à couler. Des larmes remplies de gratitude et d'amour pour ces gens connus ou inconnus.

J'espère que Bonne-maman a eu quelques secondes ou plus de bien-être. Pour ma part, je me suis sentie soutenue, aidée et aimée.

When neuroscience "meets" psychology but doesn't see it...

What an interesting scientific result I’ve just heard this morning! I didn’t think I would ever be excited about science anymore… The funny thing is that the woman telling her results wasn’t actually completely convinced herself and said she remained very cautious because she’d only studied 10 subjects. But let me tell you more about her study.

She takes 2- and 3-days old babies and while they’re asleep, she makes them listen to either classical music (Bach and Mozart) or spoken words (language). While this is happening, the babies are monitored by a technique called fMRI that allows observing which part of the brain is activated for a given task/action. What she saw in those babies is that a specific part of the right brain hemisphere was activated when the music was on while it was a part of the left brain hemisphere that lit up in the machine when they were talked to.

The woman said that she was very surprised that differentiation between the two brain hemispheres happened so early in life and she wasn’t expecting this. I wondered why she was surprised: language is a sound that is structured, rational and follows well established rules; it would therefore have to activate the left, logos, masculine brain hemisphere. Music on the other hand falls into creativity, diffuse awareness and feelings and would have to be picked up by the right, creative, Eros, feminine brain hemisphere. Still, I realised quickly that I was the only one in the group of people she was talking to for whom her results made complete sense.

I felt rather frustrated that they couldn’t see the bigger picture but I decided to keep my mouth shut, mostly because of the professional body that I represented in this event. This study serves so well psychology… Yet, it is so surprising to scientists that they can’t believe it… Shame!

Sunday morning

Waking up at 6am on a Sunday is nothing unusual anymore. But getting ready to board the Eurostar makes it an exciting day for many reasons - meeting with my parents during the day, with Rosa for dinner, with my gran on Monday while she's decided she'd had enough with life. An exciting day also because I've made up my mind to change my hair with dark red layers...

But something much better tops my list of excitments...

The new life opening before me - filled with compassion, empowered by love, nourished by an intense spirituality, instilled by a growing sense of self-worth and humility... Compassion and love seem to open my chest and give space to a heart crippled for too long. Nourishing and mothering come first and spread large and wide within me leaving little or no space to the negativity that used to rule my own kingdom.

After a difficult winter, spring is coming soon and fast - I feel it inside as well as outside!

Love

Love.
A burning charcoal
Glowing red
Always warm
Never consuming

Love.
A flying dart
Hitting the bull
Always confident
Never missing

Love.
An open heart
Strong heartbeat
Always pouring
Never going empty

Love
Bigger than me
And bigger than you

Love
With no end and no limit

Women (4) - Standing up for oneself

He checks
Then double-checks.
What I do and don't do
What I say and don't say

Will be wrong
Will bring shame
Will awaken guilt.

But for the first time in my life
I shout
and scream

"Shut up you soul-eater
I'm not afraid
I don't owe you
Neither one nor two.
Get lost!"

And I am still alive and well...

Sacred tears

Something new has happened to me in the last few weeks, something that I hadn't expected. Now, looking back, there's nothing really weird about it really.

Every day as I travelled back home directly from work a sense of immense sadness would wrap my entire body and mind as I stand or sit on the tube, my heart would remind me of its existence, heavily loaded, or burning. I would look in for the entire journey and finally open the sacred door of my safe haven and the tears would flow, finally... Not easily at first but as days passed I have sometimes become a fountain offering to the world - to my world - a very personal and salty water. Amazingly my whole being would feel lighter as the tears dry up of their own, my heart would stop burning, my chest would open to the possibilities of the evening and a real positive sense of myself would somehow have crept in without my notice...

I wonder how much of those tear come from a real need a closure for my working day, a place and time where and when I have difficulty being myself and showing who I am. I know I am still putting the mask on as I close the door in the morning.
I wonder how much of those tears weep the small irritations and of the day.
I wonder how much of those tears heal the ancient sorrow and grief and shame that others - and myself - had never allowed in the open.
I wonder how much of those tears run down my cheeks for some unconscious reason still to be uncovered.

Whatever their reason to show up they're welcome because each time, very simply, they take me home.

Elle et moi

Pourquoi j'ai le cafard?
Je n'ai pas de nouvelles.
Pourquoi je broie du noir?
Je m'éloigne d'elle.

Elle c'est moi
et moi c'est elle.
Elle ne me connait pas
Je ne sais rien d'elle.

Elle est une étrangère
Je ne me reconnais plus.
Comme un bibelot sur une étagère
Qu'on a assez vu.

Que doit-on faire d'elle?
Je me sens mal.
Comment me rapprocher d'elle
Sans me faire encore plus de mal?

Rien ni personne ne m'arrête.
J'ai perdu toute ma confiance
En ce qui va apparaître
Et en ceux qui me font des avances.

Je tends les mains
A qui veut les prendre.
Elle espère que demain
Quelqu'un va l'entendre.

clairem --- 16 fév 1990
picture --- (The helpful shadow)

Bretagne en hiver

Le vent, la pluie
Que c'est joli !
Le vent, la pluie
Qu'est-ce que ça me dit ?

La mer en hiver
Ses moutons déchaînés
Ce vent si fier
Qu'il faut s'incliner.

Les arbres en sont déracinés
Les toits tout retournés
Les rues toutes inondées
Et nous dans tout ça ?

On a peur d'être emportées
On vit avec la mort
Attentives
Comme un pilote dans son mirador.

Dire que les gens sont furieux
Parce que les stations sont fermées
Ici pas de touristes
on est seules et appréciées.

clairem --- 15 Fév 1990

The invisible

Like a herd they hopped on
Buzzing, wild, strong and defiant
Tall and short, handsome or spotty
They're one of a kind with their uniforms.

Trousers down to expose their fashionable pants
Ties half undone
Nike rucksacks to complete the picture
They feel safe because they belong.

The leaders get off at the next stop and
The atmosphere grows quieter.
A free electron takes a seat
Seemingly looking out by the window but...

Really, throwing side-glances for a potential follower
Dying out to be called back in the circle.
He puts a brave face but
The world is heavy on his shoulders once again...

When another group of 10 leaves
There's only one to say good-bye.
The wrong one, though, the odd number
His heart sinks a little deeper and weeps.

He's the only one left as the train departs
He's the outsider living further afield
Beyond the borders.
He's invisible.

Who's that girl?

Who's that lovely girl
not feeling the sweet pain of longing?

Who's that sexy girl
not seing men as lovers or predators?

Who's that grounded girl
not getting lost in wild fantasies?

Who's that courageous girl
feeling safe looking at people in the eyes?

Who's that assertive girl
capable of changing her mind or crushing her principles?

Who's that confident girl
feeling home anywhere she goes?

Who's that vulnerable girl
giving an outer life to passing emotions?

Who's that artist girl
believing in her art?

She says she survived the long years of desertic conditions and witnessed
Climate change.
She says there is no way back.
At times storm-like, volcano-like or war-like
She invades, spreads, grows and takes over.