Fortify With Love
“We cannot go back and change what happened to us, but we can lead ourselves into places that are fortified with love, and with generativity, and with generosity, and with space for us to heal and grow and learn all about who we are, and what we might want to do in this one precious life.”
These words from Chani Nicholas ring especially true for me this new moon. It has been a month of enormous self-directed change. I had the opportunity to look closely, and with new eyes, at some of the core stories of my life. Navel gazing is frowned upon but it shouldn’t be. To direct ourselves forward through examination and incorporation of our past is the whole point, is it not?
I was invited to participate in Harriet Goudard’s Family Systemic Constellation. For those who are unfamiliar with this modality, it combines shamanic, somatic, and psychotherapeutic influences in a unique and utterly transformative way. I arrived to the space knowing I wanted to heal some aspect of the story around my father’s traumatic death. For a week leading up to the container, I was sensitive to the signs of energetic alignment for this work. Dreams, swarming birds, broken dishes and a heightened sense of sound. On the morning of, my partner and I were in one of our repeat roles. I ask him – from a place of fearing my needs won’t be met – if he will do something to care for our space. He responds with frustration, that I don’t trust him to complete the task on his own. I, triggered by the frustration, enter first victim and then perpetrator mode to right the wrong. I am observing myself in my role, knowing the timing is ripe for change.
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On a wide wooden terrace overlooking the foothills of Southwestern Costa Rica, we convene – five humans, four dogs and one cat. I am one of three people bringing an “issue.” When it is my turn, I sit near Harriet in the circle and answer her questions about my family. I answer questions about my dad’s death, my relationship to my stepmother and mother, my siblings, my heritage. I can tell that Harriet is not just following lines of trauma but feeling for which aspect of my story feels most alive, ready to be examined and shifted. Goudard’s practice of Family Systemic Constellation centers the truth that we exist within many systems in the energetic field of the universe. This container welcomes the spirit of our ancestors – past, present and future – to aid in collective healing for the entire lineage. Goudard is transmuting this energy through her body to inform and shape the constellation.
At first, it feels unclear which aspect of my story wants to come forward. So we start with intention – to soften some of the hard edges around what happened. A person enters the arena and represents “softness.” I place myself in relation to “softness,” with my back turned and as far away as I can get. I feel teeth-clenching anger towards “softness.” The representative of “softness” reports feeling pain in their left hand. Harriet asks which hand my stepmother hurt in the accident that killed my dad? I think it was the left. With Harriet’s guidance, I tell this person that I feel a tremendous amount of rage towards them. “I am coming for you,” I utter.
The scene shifts. Two people enter representing my parents. First my dad. It’s very emotional. I’m crying in a special way that I associate only with him. Like the tears can’t come out fast enough and I can barely breathe to keep up. The person representing my dad names sensations she feels in her body: warmth, pride, love. I miss him a lot. My mom enters. I see the full arc of our story in her eyes – the challenges we’ve overcome – and I feel love and trust. As I stand between my parents, I recognize the tremendous role I have taken on for them in my life, as healer. Harriet guides me to kneel in front of them. I feel small. It feels good to feel small. I feel loved. I feel the love that created me. I feel a new truth rise up in me that I never expressed to my dad. After he died, I was overwhelmed by the role he left for me. I want to say it was too much just as another part of me argues, since we made it through… The representative of my dad feels sadness, some buzzing around their face that feels like growing awareness. They tell me they see how the role they gave me was too much, both in the wake of their death but also throughout my life. Too much responsibility for a child. I feel seen. I feel acknowledged and understood.
The scene shifts again. My partner is standing in front of me. I am standing between my parents looking at him. My parents release me from the role I have played as their healer. They bless my future. They encourage me to walk forward. I see my partner. I feel a deep desire to build a family with him. I speak this desire aloud. The representative of my partner feels the same way. He sees me as the child of my parents but no longer bound to the role I played for them. The representative of my partner stands next to me. First on my left side. I feel bigger than him. I say, “I am learning to see my partner as my equal.” The representative moves to my right side. This feels comfortable now. I feel more similar in size. I say, “I am learning to look to my partner for all the qualities of my father and more.” We stand all together: my partner beside me, my parents behind me. I feel calm and soft.
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Since my constellation, the softness has remained. I can see it in my cheeks and jaw. It’s silly but I don’t worry as much about the dishes getting done. There’s more spaciousness between me and my partner in our home. I had one anxiety dream about my dad and stepmom the night after the constellation but it feels like the last stormy cloud blowing over. Since then, my dreams have been lighter. My intuition has gotten stronger or I am trusting it more. I know what people will say before they say it. I take a beat inside myself to ask which is the right way. I wait for the answer and then ask the question out loud. Answers confirm answers. I seem to be going through another cycle of boundary setting and shedding ways of relating that aren’t full yeses. I bide my time. Sending out feelers and waiting to see what information comes back. Less pouring out of self and more dripping honey.