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This last Saturday, I did a workshop derived from a therapeutic school called Bioenergetics.  This work involves physical catharsis of old trapped energy, and activating physical vitality and energy.  It was founded by a New York man named Alexander Lowen, and based on many theories of Wilhelm Reich.

I smashed down on a pillow with a tennis racket and yelled about bad shit that had happened in my past, I cried, I shrieked and made noises, I thrashed around, I wrestled with one of the facilitators for possession of a pillow.  I also did an exercise where I passed through a line of men by ordering each one to move, only he wasn’t supposed to move until he felt in his gut that I meant what I was saying.

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I have done four or so workshops with this facilitator in the last two years, and each time I am blown open and have a lot of clarity.  It is like I how I feel after good talk therapy or a good long meditation; all is clear, the universe all seems to be operating for the best, the light and the dark in my own life and in those of others all seem to be working as part of a divine plan which I can trust, problems are opportunities, and existence, with all of its imperfection, is a good thing.  I also walked away from this workshop with clarity and peace but also a ferocious focus, a wholeness and groundedness.  The next day, I got into an argument with the therapist of my therapy group over how he had run a process with me a month ago, we were able to turn up the heat to red-hot and still have it be a loving, exhilarating, positive experience.  I felt strong in myself, and it felt wonderful.

It is been difficult to watch that feeling of center slip away this week.  At the beginning of the week, I felt great: I was direct with several people and I looked them in the eye, I felt whole, I was doing things rather than put them off.  As the week has progressed, however, I have felt progressively more nervous over little things, regretful, and uncertain.  I have noticed as my voice has become less clear and less direct and more sing-song-y, and as my calm has gotten more antsy.  I suppose, however, that one lesson is that remembering how centered I felt last weekend only drags me back there and away from putting all of weight on the present moment, and it doesn’t pay to grasp after high feelings from the past, I can only live in the present.  I am now feeling committed to moving through things, to taking action on the housing thing, to calling and hanging out with some of the new people that I have met, and doing other strong things in my life.
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