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.”