This is what a participant wrote about her first TCP breathing session:
I do not have a clue about what to work on in this breathing session. I happened to be placed in a group with a woman and a man not of my personal choice. No emotional challenges come to my mind, waiting to be clarified.
“Never mind, there will be other breathings,” I think with resignation.
I follow Odd's instructions, trying to keep my thoughts from wandering, concentrating on my body and the air that fills it in a gradually increasing rhythm. No issue presents itself. Should I dare to stay like this for the entire 50 minutes? Just let my support persons sit there, bored and idle? Without presenting any emotions? Should this be the time to try?
My hands are aching as always. Why not get my support persons to take care of them. They should manage this much.
The effect is immediate. As soon as I get their support, feelings start to well up. It is like turning a key. Energy surges. I want to use my legs. Odd brings a mattress to press them against. Great. This is life, using the strength in my legs. I ask the support persons to extend their roles to someone who can receive my strength. I am impressed they manage, because I use all my body strength to press them down and to give them a hard time. Once the woman asks to change her position. That pleases me, because then I know she takes care of herself. In fact I had started to worry about her.
How wonderful. I feel like having the powers of a horse, and still they take it! To enjoy it completely, I ask them to say it, one after the other:
“I enjoy meeting your strength!” I laugh in pleasure. I can be as strong as I want. I am not too much for them; they even enjoy it. I will not have to keep myself down any more!
I start to wonder how to wind up this activity. Suddenly I know:
“Can you expand your roles to be ideal parents? Let me rest in your lap and say:
- If we had been your parents when you were little, we would have enjoyed and encouraged your strength.”
Tears of joy and sadness start streaming as soon as I hear it. The rest is easy:
“Please stroke my hair, both of you, very gentle and soft because I am so small, and then say: - If we had been your parents back then we would have shown you that we loved you and that we enjoyed your strength.”
All the time I am very much aware that the two ideal parents are not the ones I would have chosen for the roles, and I am amazed that it does not matter. Everything they do and say goes right into the little girl in their lap. She is like an empty vessel into which the love and pride from symbolic parents is pouring. In between I recognize my adult administrator observing and thinking:
“This is crazy. It is all just role-playing. I must be easy to fool.” And yet the stream of love feels very physical and my emotions are real enough and receiving everything I have missed and longed for. Suddenly I know:
“ This is repair work.”
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