Holotropic Breathwork May 25 2002

Jane Hollister has found a piece of paradise on earth in Spirit Springs, Homosassa, FL. It is a 30 acre tract owned by Jane Shaw that is surrounded, now, by a national park. This is my first experience with Holotropic Breathwork and although I have read a book about it, I was not prepared for the insight that would come. The setting is very important to this sort of work and Jamie and I are fortunate to be here at a time when astrologers are saying that the planets are particularly well positioned for this sort of transformational work. Tonight is a full moon and tomorrow is a solar eclipse. If ever anyone needed a sign, they would surely find one in all of this.

The cabins were the perfect transition into what is important in life. They were duplexes, approximately 20 feet deep and 40 feet wide, with two sets of bunk beds on each side and a closet that separates the two halves. The area from the top of the 8 foot closet wall to the high pitched ceiling was open, so you felt connected to the people on the other side as well. Each cabin sleeps eight and they share a screened in porch in front. The walls are mostly windows and even the doors are glass on the top half. There is a ceiling fan on both sides and electrical outlets, but no phones, water or bathrooms. No T.V., nor radio. All focus here is on the self and the beauty surrounding self.

The cabins and the bath house with toilets are constructed of rough cut cedar and are set on poles with a cat walk connecting them at odd angles through out the swamp. The feeling here is of making as little impact on nature as possible and yet being able to fully enjoy her sights, sounds and the creatures that call her home. The roofs are made of tin, but are camouflaged, so that they disappear in the canopy. Even during the hottest time of day it is cool here with just the breeze from the fan and the clean air through the windows. This is the highest quality air in the world and it feels wonderful to fill my lungs with this holistic breath.

I knew my dreams this first night would be important because I have been led to this ancient Indian play ground. There are two burial mounds here and the spring here is where the braves would dive through a very narrow passageway as part of their right of passage. The underground cavern is not very long, but is dark, narrow and underwater. How well is typifies life, and I can see how the Indians would have acknowledged the facing of the fears we all have; of being stuck, of not being able to breath, when they would accept this physical challenge. At the spring, which is 35 feet deep, is reported the spirit of Harora. She speaks to the shamans.

Jamie and I had stood on the docks last night looking at our entertainment options. We could canoe or kayak and I have always had a fear of kayaking. In my dream I again stood there making the same choice of how to traverse the river. I feared that the kayak would over turn. It was old and had leaks in it and looked even smaller as I stood there making my decision. The canoe, by comparison, looked big, comfortable and sound, and I could take someone with me, but I was drawn to the experience of the kayak. I decided I would take it just a few yards down current and turn around to see how hard is would be to come back to the dock. The water was shallow and I could always bail out if I saw that I couldn’t paddle upstream to get back to where I started.

I strapped myself in and, almost holding my breath, launched free of the mooring. The river was moving faster than I had thought, but I calmed as a huge hand descended over me. The hand was much like the boughs of the sweat lodge I had visited last night, and it was covered with bougainvillea. As the “hand” covered me I felt safe, protected and capable of accomplishing anything. The hand moved over the water in a beautiful, peaceful dance, and I was swept along in an elation of circling, gliding movement. I could hear the Native American song fill the air, with the words, “When you find a golden feather, it means you’ll never lose your way back home…” I was not limited to the feel of gliding on the water, but lifted from the water and dipped beneath it’s surface, all illustrating the inner connectivity of all things. I was able to take in all the beauty that surrounded me and to feel joy at the marvelous and miraculous journey we call life.

I am thankful to the spirits of Spirit Springs for sharing their wisdom and bravery with me. I will leave this place a braver soul and take with me the wisdom of the ages.

The workshop was rich with rituals. We sat in a circle, on the floor, and each of us introduced ourselves, but we were not allowed to do so in a typical, surface only, manner. We were to state our names and what our intent was for being here. I said that my intent was to be able to feel what I want. Jamie said she was there to do something nice for and with me and that she had no other intent. We then drew from a deck of Animal Medicine Cards. I drew the Raccoon and Jamie drew the Swan. The Raccoon is always for the underdog, but it can see the difference between someone who truly deserves help and those who would take advantage of his true nature. The bandit is portrayed as stealing a little time for his own needs. I resonated with that. Jamie drew the Swan and the wisdom of the swan is to welcome transformation. Then we drew rocks from a bowl and were told that we would have to carry these rocks all weekend and then leave them on the alter for the next workshop’s participants to learn from. We were told to choose a rock that would illustrate the work we hoped to accomplish. I closed my eyes and felt over the bowl for heat, and reaching down picked up a rock that perfectly fit the shape of my closed hand. Jamie did the same thing, with the same result. She chose it by feel and not by it’s appearance.

For the breath work session everyone chose a partner and one would be a sitter while the other one breathed. After a quick relaxation technique and instructions on breathing deep into the stomach and then completely exhaling, in a cyclic manner, with no pauses between breaths, the music was cranked up. For two and a half hours Jamie laid there, breathing just like she was told and not moving a muscle. Three times I thought I saw her lip quiver, but afterwards she said that she had not experienced anything other than a fleeting image. The image looked like the flicker of an old projector screen and was a woman, transforming into a swan. She was disappointed and seemed to fear that I would think she hadn’t tried hard enough. I told her that some people don’t have wild visions, but that she should take note of how her life might start changing in the next few weeks. She acted like I was just placating her.

Lunch was served on the terraces that cascade from the main house to the edge of the spring. Each table sat four, which is perfect for group sharing and every meal was gourmet quality and served with fresh flowers. Many people said the food was better than any they had ever experienced on cruise ships. After a wonderful meal and great conversation, it was my turn to breathe.

Jamie was my sitter, and as in many lives past, I knew her as the mother figure, and knew I was safe. It freed me to experience this phenomenon fully and I thoroughly enjoyed the ride. From time to time I was somewhat concerned that Jamie might be freaked out by my crying, dancing and flying, but I rationalized that seeing her mother set free might free her of some of her inhibition. She is always in control of herself and the outward display of her emotions and I know from experience what a heavy burden that is to bear.

I was already in somewhat of an altered state from this morning’s session and feeling all of the emotions of the other 16 participants. I had cried as much as most of them that were breathing. I had danced around the campfires in Africa, and sang to the distant mountain in the desert of Australia while watching Jamie’s slow, rhythmic breathing. While sitting for her, I did all those things with my eyes open and silently. In my own session, I went under quickly and fully. In hypnosis I often feel that some of my personalities are standing in the doorway, refusing to come along, but all of us got on this pony and rode it like the wind.

By the third song, the drums had carried me away. I felt the tingling in my arms and legs, the muscles in my left leg spasmed wildly, but without pain. My breaths tingled the same way and I felt surrounded by the kindred spirits from this place, long ago. I breathed them into my being. I was comforted and welcomed home by those I knew before. I was dark myself, and male, and as I grew stronger, feeling all of the tribal love, I became larger and larger. I became much bigger than my friends, but I was not more important. My growth was merely a product of the love they were investing in me. The room is two stories high in its center and I rose up to fill it. At first the room confined me, but then it became transparent and I rose through it. I looked like the same Indian who had brought the rocks into the sweat lodge in my former vision. I had a helmet of fur, horns and feathers, and a mask of owl feathers over my eyes. I was so strong and so powerful back amongst my kin. I saw Herb Hamilton there as another brave and felt close to him, like one would to a brother or best friend. He was foremost in welcoming me back and it felt good to know he hadn’t changed.

There was much dancing and celebration as all of the tribe sang around the campfire and shared the abundance of our wonderful life in this sacred place. I cried for joy at being reunited and even as my breaths came faster, I breathed in more of the spirit of the group. Throughout the breath work I transformed many times. My power animal is the shape shifter and I had no problem shifting from my current body to the Native American bodies here in Florida, and the Anasazi in the Southwest, and then becoming the coyote, the bobcat, the puma, the owl, the hawk, the laughing otter, the lizard, the kangaroo, the dingo, the alligator, the prairie dog, the panther and most interestingly, the snake.

In the snakes form I crawled on my back and could feel every scale on my body move as it propelled me across the ground. I enjoyed the sensation so much that I tried it on the water and was even more amazed at how I was able to glide on the surface of the water. I then took to the trees and climbed higher and higher, circling the branches with my slithering, scaly body. I loved the sensation of being the snake, of being in transformation.

In the tree, I became the bobcat and I clawed at the branch. I felt unshakable, unmovable, and able to face any danger without backing down, even from the limbs of the tree. I thought about what Jane had said to us in the relaxation therapy before the music began. She said that we could relax our backs and not think about any support issues we may have placed on it. Of course, that made me think about it. I support everyone else and help them achieve their dreams, but no man in my relationships has ever supported me. I am carrying the whole load. I feel too weak to carry the burden and my back gives out in a last ditch effort to let me know that I am making myself co dependent on men who take and take, but never give the support I need.

As the bobcat, I felt supported in this tree and my back didn’t hurt. I thought of the lessons Andrea said she is learning from her hunting dogs. They dig holes in the soft, cool earth and feel grounded and safe. As the bobcat, I leaped down to earth, mother earth, and kneaded the ground beneath my paws. As I dug into the soil, I felt connected with the earth and all that are in it, and on it and the One Who created it. I became the puma and continued with the pawing of the ground. I didn’t need to find support in a mate. I had the support of all infinity within my own grasp. Realizing this, I became the otter, who understands the whole cosmic joke.

We are all running around down here trying to figure out why we are so unhappy when we are the ones who have set ourselves up to learn from the very lessons and pain that we try to escape. How silly we are to lose sight of our Divinity and the plan that we have set in motion. We would be such a sad race if not for the humor of it all. Knowing this set me free and I soared like an eagle. My wingspan shadowed over all the places I flew and I alternated from flying face into the sun, like the Phoenix, to gliding down at breath taking speeds. I flew past snow-capped mountains and wondered if there was any significance to the coldness there, but decided not to dwell on it. Snow is cold; I hate to be cold; end of story, for now any way.

I became the cats on Easy Street and cried for their captivity. As I became each of them, I transformed into a bird that took them upward, through the cage roof and set them free. As they flew free, I cried (Jamie said wailed) for joy that they were finally free to be themselves. I cried for all the wrongs they have suffered at the hands of man. I cried for all the wrongs I have suffered at the hands of men. I cried with great gladness at our newfound freedom.

After each breath work session, the breather was to draw a Mandala that represented the theme of the journey. Jamie drew the swan woman and the back ground looked like an explosion of light, radiating out like lightening in every direction. Little did I know what was starting to happen inside her.

Afterwards we sat around in a circle, and passing the “talking stick” (microphone) we each shared our Madalas and our experience. I could feel Jamie wanting to bolt for the door. It had been murder on her to say so briefly before that she was here because she was coerced, but now, to have to share how she felt would be too much. Surprisingly, she shakingly admitted that she didn’t have a vivid experience like everyone else did, and that the swan woman was the only image or thought she had. Jane tried to get Jamie to say what the image meant to her, and crying, Jamie handed me the mike and said she couldn’t do it.

I explained that in Jane’s relaxation session before my breath work she said we should relax the back and not harbour any support issues. During my vision it became clear that my back hurts because I believe that I support others, and their dreams, but that the mates in my life do not support me. My Mandala was me, with arms stretched upward to heaven in thanks. I was sitting on the surface of the water naked, so I cloaked my body with my hair and then used a screen of flowers that I had seen in the last song of my vision in the foreground. On the left was the snake I had become and on the right, the otter. I filled the sky with golden birds, half symbolizing the thought of the golden feather meaning I would never lose my way back home and half representing how surrounded I felt by the kindred spirits of those in the room and those in the ground. At the bottom of the circle I drew the puma feet to illustrate that I am grounded in the earth and in my own abilities. Lifting the circle up, were the wings on which I took flight and became free of old patterns and fears. At the top of the circle was the eye of the owl that cannot be deceived, by neither me nor anyone else. Over the top of the circle was the sweat lodge bough; covered in bougainvillea that I had seen as a guiding hand in the dream I had the first night there.

Jamie and I went canoeing down crab creek and in typical conservationist fashion, Jamie dredged up every piece of discarded fishing tackle that might injure some animal and carried it back to camp. It was approaching dusk and we saw a barred owl in the tree above us. Lisa, one of the most animated and yet suffering people in the group, ran for her camera and as she was photographing the owl she said that it was good luck to find and owl feather. As if on queue, the owl flew to another close branch, dropping a soft gray feather. Before I left, Jamie had told Lisa that she knew the value of the fallen feather and so it should be Lisa’s token. I went inside and much to my amazement, Jamie stayed with Lisa. I watched with wonder as they interacted with each other. Lisa took Jamie by the sleeve, as if knowing that to touch her arm would send her running, and made Jamie take the feather for herself. The transformation had begun with one feather.

The next day we rejoined the circle to share what the animal card had taught us, what the rock had taught us and how we intended to put that information to use. I shared the story of my amnesia and how I have relied on my daybook to remember everything including people’s names. I said that I had learned that although the raccoon was truly a champion of the underdog that it knows the difference between one who needs help and one who is using the raccoon for their own purposes. What I learned from the rock was that if I trust my intuition, the decision I make would fit the need. What I learned from the group was that when I felt people, in the way that they had trusted the group with all of their inner fears, I remembered all 20 of their names. What I intend to do is to trust my higher self and trust my ability to remember. Of course, it took a lot of verbal wrestling with myself to say that because I am always more concise in writing than in speaking. That sort of deep feeling for me always results in lots of tears and I felt bad about handing the microphone to Jamie next, as my tears always make her cry.

She cried as she spoke and said that the swan had taught her that she could transform. The rock had not meant anything to her, originally, but now the rock had become the burden of her self-consciousness and she wasn’t going to carry it around with her anymore. All of us had been asked to ritually return our rocks to the center of the circle, but Jamie did with gusto, saying “You can have this rock back!” I thought she would quickly pass the talking stick, but she went on to say that the experience had been important to her and that she had learned so much from everyone there who was baring their souls. She said that she had always worried too much about her duties on Easy Street and that this was the first time that she had taken time to get in touch with her own heart. Then she asked if anyone had any questions they would like to ask her, because it felt good to have their attention and after laughing they all concluded her sharing with applause. Even thought they were laughing, many of them were crying, because they were watching the beautiful transformation happen right in front of them. She reminded me of Jumanji, the black leopard she raised, during his big performance in Chicago where he didn’t want to leave the stage.

It was very late by the time we finished that night so we opted not to drum to the full moon. Jamie and I had played with the drums briefly during one of our breaks and I think that would have been great fun, but we were all exhausted after such a miraculous day. We slept to the sounds of owls, coyotes and armadillos.

The next morning, I thought we were done, but there was one last exercise and the most uncomfortable of all. Jane suggested that we select a different partner and repeatedly ask that partner, “What is your soul seizing you to do?” Diane asked me to be her partner and we went out to the water to ask each other the question. I had already said that my intent was to trust myself and didn’t have any idea what I would say if asked to say more. I thought Diane was supposed to ask me three times and I said two more similarly veined things, but she asked me again. Now I really didn’t know what to say. I wasn’t prepared, but my soul was. I answered, “My soul is seizing me to trust that I can remember what happened before the amnesia because I will be able to handle it.” I wept openly in Diane’s arms at this revelation. I go around thinking that I know the bad things, the major things that happened in my child hood and young life, but as Diane’s life reminded me, I only know what I have been able to handle thus far. Whatever is still hidden to me, has to be worse, or else I would have recalled and dealt with it already. I have already faced horror and what is left to face can only be worse. The agony in dealing with it is the underlying belief that I create my own reality, so what kind of person must I be to cause myself such emotional pain?

I learned a lot about Diane and it is as if we lived nearly the same life. We have been within a couple miles of each other most of our lives, yet never met because I was in private schools. I felt like at any time I could have just reached out and learned that I wasn’t the only person in the world facing the demons I feared, because her story was so near identical to mine. My life was easier because I had great parents. We rejoined the circle and I didn’t have time to ask Jamie about her revelation, other than to hear that it had made her cry. My turn to talk came first and I shared what I had discovered about my soul’s real agenda and cried to the point that I didn’t think anyone could understand me, and then I handed the microphone to Jamie.

She jumped to her feet and said, “I can’t believe she’s done this to me again. She cries and hands me the mike…” Everyone burst out laughing. Jamie thanked them for humoring her and said she appreciated the way they laughed at her even though she wasn’t really that funny. She said what her soul seized her to do was to be brave and reach inside herself to face her fears and inhibitions and to overcome them. I was so astounded at the way she spoke with authority and power about her feelings and her transformation into the swan that I cannot remember the exact words, but everyone applauded her even much more than before. Instead of stopping there, she thanked them all again for the fact that they had applauded her and given her the encouragement to do something so profoundly frightening. She just kept on talking about finding her own sense of grace and ended with even more applause. My little duckling has become the Swan.

Later Jamie shared with me that she had stood when it was her turn because it gave her the sense of power that she needed to be able to say what she was going to say. She said that when Yvonne asked her over and over what her soul’s intent was, that she looked her straight in the eye and told her. She was so proud of herself for being strong enough to do so. Jamie has never been able to establish eye contact with people and here she was talking too! On the way home Jamie said the volunteers were in for a huge surprise because she wasn’t pussy footing around any more.

The last ritual was to each take home a stone from the experience to remind us of what we had learned. My stone was selected by Jane, from a velvet bag and just happened to be a soft pink. Jamie’s was her favourite shade of green. Nothing happens by accident. We all joined in a circle and kissed each other and sang together. Many people came up to me during the workshop saying what an inspiration Jamie and I were because of the depth of my feelings and because of Jamie’s youth and ability to immediately utilize what she had learned to make a change that we could all see and feel. One girl in the group was in her mid twenties and had hidden under the blankets throughout her entire breath work, and had refused to speak at all in the circles, hiding almost literally behind her boyfriend. I watched the way she watched Jamie and in the last pairing she had come to me asking to be my partner, but Diane had already asked me. In the last two circles she had started sharing her feelings and in the very end asked to lead us in a song together. The words were that I will always remember you, I will always cherish you and that I will never forget you.

I will never forget this fork in the road and the paths that we both chose. Thank you Jane Hollister for making this possible.