School of Movement Medicine - Mindfulness in Motion

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Issue: October 2011

This month's winner of £100 School of Movement Medicine workshop voucher

By Véronique

Once Upon a time, a human being, female sex, frightened but also fascinated by what’s going on after… life, decided at last minute to book for Burial ceremony, in the country of her feminine lineage. Last chance to die… To go there, I drove, hair in the wind, free and full of imagination from how would be the ceremony.

When I stopped at the place, surprise, it was the end of the road. No chance to escape… Fortunately, others companions came for the same reason, and a powerful and kind team to support us. For days, we danced, dreamt together, dug our grave in a field while beautiful and peaceful horses were looking in our direction. The field became a cemetery as birds in the trees were singing - maybe laughing - at those human beings sweating by digging their grave before dying.

During the preparation process, my body became heavy, even cold, and I went into deep state of dreams. All kind of family stories, especially from my mother lineage, and fear of childhood, even before, in the mother’s womb.

When the graves got ready, rain started to fall. We were on Sunday. The night was falling while flames from the fire rise to the sky, the tempo of the drums beat. Time to enter in the grave, time to meet death… with no clock, no mobile phone nor Ipod but a flashlight, a warm duvet, layers of clothes, and a hat.

As I came in my grave, very slowly, no hurry to be facing death, and as one of the companions was covering my grave with earth, I suddenly went into panic. The beat of my heart overtook the ones of the drums. Ya’Acov came, spoke to me with kindness. But I screamed so loudly that I could wake up dead people… I finally got extra free space in my grave. Then I relaxed and even slept as a newborn child. I could feel the support of mother earth, warm. As I call the form of benevolent death to be present, the teacher of life, I also felt peace, and light. What a surprise while my representation of death was black, cold and dangerous.

In the middle of the night, while Ya’Acov came close to each grave, asking how we were, as he was closed to mine, I hear him:

- Véronique, you are very sensitive.

Me: - I know. Why do you say that?

Ya’Acov: - It’s time for you to develop your strength alongside your sensitivity..

Me: - I remember when I was a child my sister was calling me Bamboo.

Ya’Acov: - Bamboo! Great! You know that a bamboo is stronger than steel!

Me: - No.

Bamboo, stronger than steal! That was the last words I heard from outside. I spent the rest of the night between dreaming, being awake, praying, singing, writing. I felt so peaceful, so supported and healed in the earth with mother and father, the matter and the spiritual.

In the morning, while the sun rises, I heard the beat of the drums outside. Time to go out, time to reborn!

The last day, while I was walking to the field, and singing “ When I reborn, I am so strong, Than a bamboo, Stronger than steel”, I suddenly saw an animal lying in the grass. A baby deer was dead. I felt deeply touched when I saw that she was exactly on the same direction than my grave. She remembered me the story of Bambi when I was a child. As we did her funerals, I dedicated my experience to Bambi who died on the land of my mother’s lineage.

I would like to thank you all my companions, the team, and I would like to thank you Ya’Acov.

Back home, I feel alive, full energy and joy, and strong as a Bamboo.


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The views expressed here do not necessarily represent the views of the School of Movement Medicine. Roland Wilkinson, Nappers Crossing, Staverton, Devon TQ9 6PD, UK Tel & Fax +44 (0)1803 762255 http://www.