On
Saturday I am due to attend a workshop on getting in touch with my feelings and
unblocking my chakras. It’s a follow up to one I did in May. The one in May brought up strong feelings of
shame in me and it was horrible; I felt five years old again and dirty. I am hoping that these shameful feelings will be explored more thoroughly and I'll find out why I have them and how to deal with them.
The girl running the workshop is my friend, Brighid and I’m making up the
numbers. I’m a workshop junkie. I love the pressure cooker
atmosphere of 10-12 strangers hooking up for one day and spilling their guts
for the rest of us to analyse. You hear amazing stuff. I’m
getting better at shutting up and listening. Great lines I’ve picked up so
far are, “It’s the crank that starts the engine,” “What’s meant for you,
won’t pass you by,” and “Of course your parents push your buttons, they
put them there in the first place.”
Workshops foster honesty and you can't beat honesty for seeing the utter rawness and creativity of people. People detect bullshit quickly. A lawyer from Dublin in a writing workshop in Bantry (best week of my life ever) admitted in her first written piece that she was nervous about meeting us. Hearing her admission of vulnerability snagged my heart and I instantly felt myself reaching out to her.
Whoever is responsible for my feelings of shame, I don't care anymore. I'm done blaming and analysing. The drama is not worth the cost to my nerves. I just want to be able to deal with whatever comes up in the future. Speaking of drama, this Sunday, the day after the workshop I drive to Kilkee, Co Clare to spend a few days with my mother and her extended family. 19 egos across three generations crowded under one roof in weather that is forecast to be awful.................
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