learning to be loved...

it feels good to meet, to really meet someone. It feels even better when that someone is a close and "loved" one as we commonly say.

So why does it bring tears?
What is the expansion and constriction that my heart feels?
Why is it so difficult to accept to be loved and let it in?
Why do I need to justify my existance every so often? "I am here... this is who I am... I have principles... this is what I think and I want to convince you... I am right, always or I get angry..."
Why is it so hard to breathe in the belly, relax the jaw and let the Earth carry my weight?

I do know some answers to these questions and yet I sometimes can't live them consciously... But I am grateful that some days as I note that I have gone into automatic mode (going fast, justifying my existance...) I am able to be gentle with myself and come back to the feminine within - allowing... This bring tears and inner peace.

These days, I know I've got a massive challenge in front of me. I feel the weight of it and I feel it bring me down from time to time. I don't know if I'll go through this time. But I'm confident that if it's not for this spiral of life it'll be for the next or the one after that...

more ah-has...

Another Monday night... Another dance... Another experience...

I am sooo grateful to my psycho-analyst for having "introduced" me in the world of 5Rhythms... he talked to me twice about it a few months apart. I hadn't heard it the first time an I decided to try it the second. I had to gather all the strength and courage that I had scattered all around the place for years and make my way to the other side of town on a Saturday night - and gosh, London is a big town!!! I'll always remember that first look into a large room, not many people yet as I was early and the anxiety locked into my stomach. It was 2 and a half years ago. And I'm still going every single week...

Tonight was the first time of 2008 in my regular Monday evening class (I'd gone on New year's day to another class) and the first time in a long while, too.

I enjoyed my dance for a while, warm-up was great then came the body parts... As surprising as could be, my lightness transformed in a split second into a heavy weight on my shoulders as I felt drawn to the floor... I lied down on my front on a cold wooden floor and immediately thanked the earth for holding my weight, for giving me energy and for allowing me to trust again in my own femininity.

Ah-ha!!! That's it! The feminine energy within was missing...

Back in London for 9 days after having stayed 4 days in the middle of Switzerland and one week in the countryside where my parents live, somehow my life style in this city had already challenged my nascent femininity: tarmak everywhere, speeding, doing, underground, back at work, rational thinking, sales, money... all of these contributed for more or for less of the onslaught of the feminine within myself!!

I was cold and I liked the music. I wanted to stand up and move but the dancer within me was adamant, "keep to the floor", and so I stayed there. Flowing moved into Staccato and I thought that it'd be the right time to get up and move that overflowing masculine energy contained inside... I was very wrong. The dancer within kept saying "it's not time yet, keep to the floor". At that time I also began to feel very conscious and uncomfortable of how I moved... I could picture myself raising and lowering my buttocks as if masturbating. I guess the Earth had already started her job of giving me energy and trust because I consciously told myself again and again, "it's ok Claire, you are a sexual being, there's nothing to be ashamed of" and I allowed myself to carry on...
As chaos moved into the air, my dancer inside allowed me to eventually get up and dance. But my body started to shake uncontrollably up and down, back and front, side to side, from head to toe and shoulder to finger tip. It was broken, stopping, starting unlike the rhythm... As I allowed this happen and focused on my breathing ...

Ah-ha!!

The relationship between masculin and feminine within myself has angles, hidden areas big shadow... it is non-harmonious !! Yet, however unstable and difficult, the relationship was happening. Each side vibrating with the other. Their frequence would tune in only rarely but who cares? What mattered then was that both could meet, however badly or ugly at the moment! Beauty, harmony, tuning in will come with time and is a life long process. And it did actually happen for a minute or so... it became harmonious, uncontrolable, unstoppable. My breathing was in complete tune with the movements, the music, the other dancers, the room, all had gone for a few moments. Asi "woke up", I was overwhelmed by fear and felt an immense gratefulness for the experience.

Tonight, I feel proud, I feel happy, I feel grateful, I feel open, I feel confident...

Here are my 21 gratitudes for today:

thanks to Gabrielle Roth for making the 5Rhythms
thanks to the 5 Rhythms for letting speak the body
thanks to the Earth for the trust
thanks to my feet for holding my weight
thanks to Boddhi for the class tonight
thanks to the circle of dancers
thanks to fire bringing light to the room
thanks to Clairette for having made me buy the tarot deck
thanks to Clairon for having let Claireet do so
thanks to C. for introducing me to the 5 Rhythms
thanks for the city of London which offers so much dance
thanks for the food leftover as I came back late
thanks to my work for providing me with enough money to dance
thanks for my flat where I do feel home
thanks to my heart for opening up
thanks for being able to love and be loved
thanks to my family members whom I am starting to meet
thanks for the coming winter so that the seeds can rest and get prepared
thanks for some recent meetings that bring some new into my life
thanks for the good night I'll have in a warm bed
thanks for this new year full of possibilities

grandir... c'est dur mais c'est chouette!

Après un déclic qui m’a permis de trouver l’énergie nécessaire à la construction de mes étagères de rêves – et le plus beau c’est qu’après construction, elles y ressemblent presque !!!! – j’ai commencé à me sentir chez moi. Un chez moi devenu un peu plus spacieux à la suite du processus d’éventration systématique des cartons de bouquins qui gisaient au milieu du « salon », à moitié morts depuis la mi-septembre…

Et puis, tout comme « l’argent appelle l’argent », j’ai réalisé que l’espace doit appeler l’espace… Du salon, je suis passée à la chambre et ai fait le tri de mes fringues. Trois tas : à donner, à jeter, à garder… En quelques heures, je me suis sentie légère, légère, légère, tout comme le professeur Tournesol !

La suite j’en ai raconté un peu au fur et à mesure, mais pas beaucoup en français. Et la sémantique change d’une langue à l’autre. Je ne dis pas les mêmes sentiments, j’insiste plus ou moins sur tel ou tel épisode d’une situation donnée… Le 6 décembre, bonne-maman a quitté ce monde, quitté ce corps frêle qui lui causait tellement de douleur et de tourments depuis quelques mois. Loin d’être une surprise, ce départ m’a tout de même été très douloureux physiquement. Mon corps et chacune de mes cellules ont dit leur douleur. Des moments d’extrême désespoir accompagnés de larmes de crocodiles se succédant à des moments de paix et de silence intérieur.

Au cours des quelques jours qui ont suivi, les moments familiaux de joies et de fête d’anniversaire se sont juxtaposés à ceux des adieux autour d’un corps inerte et rapetissé d’une grand-mère bien-aimée. J’ai trouvé le courage - insoupçonné ? - de demander le soutien dont j’avais besoin par mots à certains ou par gestes à d’autres, et j’ai eu la chance et le douloureux bonheur de découvrir qu’on me l’offrait très volontiers… Est-il donc si facile d’aimer et d’être aimé ? Suffit-il de demander ? J’ai su m’ouvrir un peu plus, m’exposer et montrer qui je suis avec le risque ou plutôt la peur - encore fortement ancrée (et encrée ?) dans une mémoire cellulaire, ancestrale ou autre - de me faire rejeter…

Ces quelques jours intenses en émotions ont été rapidement suivis des fêtes de Noël, et d’une semaine supplémentaire passée en France, en famille. J’ai découvert l’importance de la famille, j’ai ressenti le besoin d’être entourée et j’ai poussé encore un peu plus loin cette ouverture, « voilà qui je suis ». Je sens que son décès m’a poussé à grandir, d’un coup, sans prévenir. Et c’est bon.

Anis et Flore

Un petit gars est né
Quelques minutes avant sa soeur
Mais c'est elle qui s'éveille et
Vient goûter au sein gonflé

Deux poids plumes
Aux lèvres délicatement dessinées
Deux petites frimousses tour à tour
Relaxées puis renfrognées
Quatre yeux grand ouverts
Puis refermés
Des petits doigts si fragiles
Encore tous frippés

Frère et soeur
Deux petites beautés
Venant chambouler
La vie de leur grande soeur
De deux ans leur aînée

N. & B.
Félicitations et grand bonheur à vous cinq!

Christmas Spirit

The last 24h have been a bit of a whirlwind of activities, sounds, connecting with people, making, chatting, laughing at jokes, eating... a lot happening outside and not much inner space.

Christmas' eve last night at 16 parents, siblings, in-laws, nephews and nieces, cousins and aunt
Christmas lunch today at 22, i.e. more siblings, in-laws and nieces

This Christmas spirit has left me tired and in need to retire and recharge my batteries... I feel that I have given an enormous amount of energy, shared a big part of myself - too big a part??? Not seeing them all very often, because I dance the 5Rhythms and because I am more than willing to talk about the kind of workshops I treat myself with, they ask questions of all sorts that are not always easy to answer. This year, I believe for the first time, I have had the chance to see and accept without guilt that I needed some inner space away from everyone else for a short while. And most importantly and most grateful for it, I have allowed myself to take this time away: I stop, sit down and write these words.

They helped me much for it as they all disappeared for an hour or so to an exhibition in town that I'd been to a couple of days ago. The silence, the music by Gabrielle Roth on the sound system, the returning home within... made me realise that I usually dive into the family energy and give without counting, without noticing... Can I call it giving? Maybe not. It may be more a matter of leaking away energy because I am not conscious of my needs.

And so I had gone from my body but I am pleased that this time it didn't take me another workshop, another psychotherapy session, another major crisis and many tears to find out and to re-discover the roots and anchor of my true being. This time, a few minutes of quietness, of having retired, of being alone and of checking inside what my needs are have allowed the feelings of being worthy and deeply engaged with myself to resurface. And the fact that this has happened in the family house is a gigantic and leap! It feels wonderful!!

I know I will give more in a minute as they have now come back but I have had this time for myself to check in, to thank myself... I am proud, I am pleased... I know there will be more allowing to happen to be able to remain in touch with my needs "at all times" and even in these big family reunions, but I can see this happening in the future.

-------------------------------

I went back to the buzzing energy of the group and sat down by the fire. One of my nephew, usually rather shy came to cuddled on my lap. It was a wonderful feeling of love and quiet. He stayed there for a long while and I loved every second of it as peace lingered on for a little longer... Thank you J.

so many gifts

I'm afraid there's not much more than my sorrow and mourning at the moment in the words I want to lay on the screen... you'll have to forgive me - or come back in a few days, a few weeks or a few months... I have no idea how long it will last!

Bonne mam' has given us many gifts and coming to brittany just a few days before the winter solstice, when the world stop for a few days before rising toward spring again, is certainly one of them; after a 6hours drive, we were greeted in the middle of the night by a sky bathed with stars with no moon, and that is certainly one of them; a sharp and clear, sunny day without a single pinch of wind is certainly one of them...


But her most wonderful gift has been - for me at least - to depart from this world as we had planned to meet (my parents and siblings) to celebrate my sister's 40th birthday. It was the first time we were to gather all together in more than 2years... what a way to say a common farewell before the funeral?

I have spent 5 days within the family core and this has been a real gift for me too. Being voluntarily expatriated, I have touched the importance of the close ties that unite me to my brothers and sisters and their spouses, to my parents and to my nieces and nephews, to my uncles and aunts and some of my cousins... The sharing has been intense...

I have come back home to London a slightly different person, as I have experienced (for the first time?) that I have my place in the family circle. I have sensed and accepted that others can love me and I have allowed (for the first time?) this love to penetrate me... sweet pain there...

I'm now back in london after many miles, many tears, smiles and laughs, many hugs given and received, many looks shared, many words spoken and heards, many thank yous... and this all feel as only the beginning, with more tears to come, more smiles and laughs to come, more hugs to come, more shared looks and words to come, more thank yous to come...

Bonne-maman

Thursday 6th Decembre, sometime close to 6pm, she let out her last breath to never take a new one in. She threw the towel, after close to 96 years...

Not a Saint, not the perfect wife, mother, grand-mother, sister or woman, she has been instrumental in shaping who I have become, in my early years. And it is only these last few years that I have come to know and recognise this.
I know how lucky I am that she was still here in flesh and blood as well as in her right mind, as I have come very close to her. She has asked me many questions about my recent life and I like to think that she knew me more than many people I see everyday... I know she couldn't grasp entirely what my constant questions and my self-discovery journey are about, but she tried, again and again and again... and I am ever thankful to her for it.

I witnessed her go slowly with dignity, and love and gratitude for people that surrounded her. I know how pleased she was to see me and I know how important it has been for me to be present physically as often as I could. Her departure is obviously hard, but I have had time over the last few months to accept the love she gave me and to give her my love consciously. Somehow I feel at peace.

Bonne-maman, thank you.

farewell bonne-maman/bonne-mimi

j'ai peur d'oublier
ce dernier baiser déposé si doucement sur tes joues creusées

il n'y aura plus
ce sourire qui m'étais destiné quand j'entrais dans ta chambre
ces après-midis silencieux passés à tes côtés
ta main frêle dans la mienne et que j'avais peur de casser

Bon vent!

de passage à Paris

qui l'eut cru? me voici à Paris et j'écris sur mon portable - merci WiFi - d'un café proche de Montparnasse, juste de l'autre côté du boulevard Pasteur où je viens de trouver une chambre pour la nuit....


C'est une série qui continue. Une certaine incapacité à organiser mon temps (en l'occurence également celui des autres) qui perdure depuis quelques mois maintenant. Alors que je connaissais mes dates de passages dans la capitale française, je n'ai appelé les nombreux cousins/oncles/tantes qu'hier soir, et encore pas tous... pour des raisons plutôt obscures, même pour moi... alors forcément, ceux que j'ai eu étaient soit non disponibles soit absents... suis-je surprise ? pas vraiment ! Suis-je déçue ? pas beaucoup plus !
était-ce un désir unconscient de passer la soirée et la nuit seule dans un/des lieux inconnus et neutres ? peut-être car je suis finalement assez heureuse d'être là. Ambiance à la française, l'interdiction de fumer encore pas passer dans les cafés (malheureusement...), un croque-monsieur comme dîner, et sans doute un peu de programmes télé probabalement plus que moyens quand j'arriverai dans ma chambre... mais au moins ils seront français, et j'ai oublié ce que c'était !!

je suis allée voir bonne maman. je l'ai trouvée moins maigre que la dernière fois. je l'ai trouvée fragile mais surtout portant un air triste. elle a peu dormi pendant les quelques heures que j'ai passées à ses cotés, mais les mots sont restés espacés. et pourtant elle est toujours là, bien là. j'ai ressenti tellement d'amour pour cette femme rapetissée, blanchie par les années, et qui pour une raison inconnue s'accroche toujours à la vie... elle est et sera dans le premiers cercle de mes ancêtres, proche, aimante, présente... je suis tombée amoureuse de ma grand-mère cet après-midi, avec toutes ses qualités et tous ses limites...

merci bonne maman.
je t'aime.

My mum's dad, bon-papa was the name we used to call him and we use to talk about him, passed away 10 years ago yesterday.

Not difficult to remember as he died 3 days after Diana, Princess of Wales. I'd been in London for a few months and the whole town, the whole nation poured into the capital to bring flowers and grieve her. My very good friend M. had come to visit me that week and I left her alone in London for 24h to go to his funeral in the surburb of Paris.

I remember how I felt teribly guilty to leave her behind.

He was to be buried in Brittany, in a small and lovely cemetery overlooking the bay. He was to be looking at the sea, the Love of his life. The whole family drove the 450 km to Brittany. I didn't so that I could get back to London and my friend.

I remember how I felt terribly guilty to leave him behind.

It took nearly a year before I saw his tomb. Bonne-maman did not want any polished marble stone or anything ready made of the sort. It had to blend with the Earth. It took months before the time and efforts of herself and her children (she's had nine of them...) were rewarded with a gigantic menhir-like stone that sits well with the surroundings. His name and dates of birth and death were simply carved onto the stone without colouring of any sort so that you actually need to look close to find it.

I remember him as a child sailing on his boat or going out to fish shrimps and crabs as the tide is coming in. I remember him polishing, painting, diy-ing this sailing boat A Dieu Vat, possibly the most valuable thing he had. I remember him bent over (and thinking about it now, probably conversing with) his raws of rose trees. I remember him at my parents in the countryside going for walks hours on end. I remember him changing the sheet once a week on his old and cherished barometer. I remember him one new year's eve smiling at me as I sipped a wonderful old-fashionly cooked hot chocolate.

I remember his last few years as he lost his short term memory, as he would ask the same questions again and again without tiring. I remember as he slowly fell on the side of overwhelming anxiety and how that could take him to bursts of anger or rage. I remember visiting him in a highly medicalised nursing home after he'd given up with life - his breathing sounded like something was caught and vibrating into the pipes of the kitchen sink. I remember how I was left by myself with him for just a few minutes and how much I wanted to tell him I loved him. I remember how my throat remained tight shut, my hands in my pockets and my eyes dry when my heart was weeping.

Today and for the last few months, bonne-maman has been declining with no particular disease. There have been times when we thought she'd had enough and was about to join him in the other world. It's been very important for me to listen to my needs, go and see her when I felt like it, spend time with her even without words exchanged. I think that the time of words has passed for us but I want to be there to simply hold her hand in mine. I feel that this is a time of closure, of goodbyes, of putting things to rest, of forgiveness towards her and towards myself. I feel that this is a time of healing that goes far beyond her and me.

If I regret the lost time with bon-papa, I am blessed with the time given with bonne-maman. I feel that when she goes I will not be feeling guilty. Hopefully I'll see her in a few days.

Dans mon coeur

Dans mes souvenirs les plus vivants
elle a toujours été là
pour offrir
le carambar interdit par les parents
pour jouer
à la crapette inlassablement
faire cuire
un vrai chocolat chaud la nuit du nouvel an
pour envoyer
à chaque anniversaire un petit mot écrit si gentillement

Dans la vie d'hier, d'aujoud'hui et de demain
elle est toujours là
pour entendre
d'une oreille attentive les secrets des uns et des autres sortis de l'ombre
pour tenir
ses promesses et un silence d'outre-tombe
pour poser
les questions auxquelles on n'a pas forcément envie de répondre
pour s'inquiéter
que tout va pour le mieux dans le meilleur des mondes

Après avoir retrouver tous nos ancêtres et bon-papa
elle sera toujours là
pour prêter
un sourire ou une main tendue dans les moments de détresse
pour m'aider
à sortir d'une récurrente tristesse
pour me rappeler
que sur mon chemin il y aura toujours une déesse
pour ouvrir
son bric-à-brac de cabas qui bédorde de tendresse

A Bonne-Maman

Depuis son fauteuil
Elle n'entend plus bien
Ses oreilles bien rangées dans le tiroir de sa table de chevet

Somnolant à moitié
Les heures défilent
Lentement ou à pas de geant selon qu'elle a des visites ou pas

Ni-assise et ni-allongée
Parfois elle s'arrête de parler
Par choix, de fatigue ou simplement parce que tout a déjà été dit

Acceptant et exposant sa fragilité
Elle reste belle
Coiffée de son élégante chevelure blanchie par les années

Jamais très grande et maintenant tassée
Elle reste digne
Même si ses muscles ont récemment décidé qu'ils en avaient eu assez

Aujourd'hui à 95 ans
Elle reste le pilier
Auquel tout un chacun vient encore s'amarrer

Je l'aime aujourd'hui
Comme je l'ai toujours aimée
Mais j'ai enfin trouvé les mots pour le lui dire et l'écrire

Quand il sera temps qu'elle rejoignent ses ancêtres
Je demande aux alliés de ce monde et de l'autre
De lui prendre la main et de l'accompagner avec amour
Pour qu'elle parte en joie et en paix