Like the flowing river making its way back to the sea, life had led me to enact the part of the farmer's wife in the African Folk Tale “The Woman from the Stars” at the point when she discovered that her husband had broken her only requirement of their relationship. I could not have known that the words I spoke were the manifestation of what I needed to say to many people in whom I had put trust, in my life. I could not have known that this enactment would be preparing me for events that were soon to follow.
Having grown up on a small farm, my affinity to cattle started very young and my mother had often told of how, when I started to crawl, I would make my way out of the farm house and crawl down the farm yard and into the cattle pen, where I would often be found amongst their hooves amusing myself. No harm came to me (except for developing ringworm on my face, body and in my hair). Life in the country was very isolated and solitary and I had no way to express and deal with the pain of the neglect, abuse, abandonment of parental betrayal of not fulfilling the precious role of protecting a vulnerable, innocent, dependent child (me). It was not until my 20's following a court case where my abusive ex-lover (who was extremely wealthy and a prominent businessman in the community) had been taken to court by the police and then had been bound over by the courts to keep away from me that I found my way to the big city, away from his clutches and to take up employment.
The pain and damage of childhood traumas and my career had led me to become involved in numerous types of therapies and these were an excellent foundation for the drama therapy workshop I was to find myself in. My recollection of drama at school was not positive and drama therapy had in no way appealed to me. But having met Claire through other mutual activities I had attended the Making Moves Bringing the Stars Down to Earth workshop.
To set the picture, in the first scene I had acted herding the cows and in the second scene I became the farmer's wife who, whilst tending her crops on the land, had heard her/my husband's laughing. She/I instantly knew that the mocking laughter had meant that he had done the one thing she/I had asked him not to.
As the scene unfolded the wife/I stood facing my/her husband, the moment was so real and I said with all my might and every ounce of my being,
“You betrayed me, our love and the only request I had made of our relationship”.
The pain I felt was unbearable and in that moment I saw the look on the face of the other participant who was acting the part of my husband. It was only a moment but it felt minutes and I knew from the expression on his face that the words I had spoken and the pain I felt had at last been heard and understood .
It was a very powerful and healing moment.
The pain I experienced was beyond words. It was the first time I had dared to give voice to the unbearable pain of betrayal I had been living with for so many years. I had talked about the pain with friends, in therapy sessions and group sessions but talking about it did not release the devastation I had experienced.
I could not have then known that the words I spoke in the workshop were to have huge repercussions and I would have the opportunity to speak them again in a variety of situations.
First it was to my employer, and to numerous members of the medical and legal professions who were involved in the case I was fighting as the result of a car accident. Medical experts failed to diagnose a head injury and its impact and others changed their medical diagnosis when they saw what more senior medical staff had written, and then the limitations and hidden agendas of the legal profession resulted in paltry compensation. My employers terminated my employment when they realised my condition saying that they would be equally culpable if my condition were to get worse. I had felt numerous betrayals and injustices from the incompentencies of these professionals in whom I had put my trust. I could no longer trust my own judgment, and it was important for me to state that I felt betrayed by recording my experience in written statements for all involved to read.
But a much bigger opportunity arose when my sister telephoned me to inform me that my father had died. I knew that if I were to go to the funeral I would have to face the terrible past and a family who had colluded in abuse and who made me a scapegoat rather than face their own shadows.
Initially I was told that I could not see my father's body prior to the funeral and, in a subsequent telephone call, my other sister basically warned against attending the funeral, saying she knew what would happen if I did. What could possibly be the reason behind this..? I was to find out on the day of the funeral.
The man I had fallen in love with and in whom I had put my trust some 25 years earlier had to my utter disbelief and horror been invited to be a pallbearer for my fathers coffin at the funeral (the father who too had betrayed me).
The man too who had betrayed me with affairs with other women, emotional abuse and violence and who had driven a wedge between me and my family: they chose to support him over me, their vulnerable daughter, during a humiliating court case in which the police had pressed charges against him for his violent behaviour and threats on my life.
My longest-standing friend who had lived through the dreadful ordeal with me in my early 20's arranged to get me to the chapel of rest to see my father's body. There I was able to say how hurt and betrayed I had felt as a result of his failings - and to make some peace. I continually prayed that I might get through the ordeal with dignity and grace – and then in the middle of the funeral service my brother announced that my former lover, abuser and betrayer would be reading my father's tribute. All eyes were on me as he got up from the family pew (where he had been invited to sit with his son by the woman he betrayed me for) and proceeded to speak about my father's life.
The pain and humiliation were becoming unbearable. At the graveside I had comforted my mother as she said goodbye to my father, and as I walked backwards my ex-lover/abuser took me in his arms and kissed me on the lips – saying that he was pleased to see me and knowing that I had no escape. As I pulled away, I saw the flash of a camera going off in the distance and then realised that my family had arranged to photograph the funeral. To say it was surreal was an understatement and I knew whatever I did would be captured on film for posterity. I then found myself speaking the words of betrayal I had spoken in the enactment of the African Folk Tale – except this time I was saying them calmly, coherently and with total power. To all those looking on, it was as if I were having an agreeable exchange with a man from the past, but to me and my friend who knew, this was a man who had caused me immense pain and who had destroyed my confidence, self-worth and any relationship with my family for the past 20 years.
I know it is good to own and express my feelings, but sometimes that can work against us women because we are seen as over-emotional and sadly the meaning of what we have to say can be lost. This time I was articulate and in total control of what I had needed to say: I was able to fully represent myself in a way I had never been able to do before.
I believe that if we surrender, the universe will lead us to what we need to heal. I give thanks for meeting Claire and for the opportunity to attend the perfect workshop at the perfect time which was to be a perfect healing catalyst for me.
I continue my journey with renewed spirit and affinity to cattle.
Vi
From Making Moves Newsletter No 5 Autumn 2004
Commentary by Claire
Synchronicity was first observed by Jung who saw chance happenings, coincidences, not as meaningless occurrences but as highly meaningful and evidence of our connection with an unseen pool of experience that he called “the collective unconscious”.
In her article Vi described how her participation in the Bringing the Stars Down to Earth Workshop had precipitated a momentous series of events. Read her article and you will learn how this courageous woman, who is to my mind a Woman from the Stars (the title of the African tale we worked with), had managed to triumph over the very raw deal that life has dealt her.
Both of us reflected on how her experience in the workshop had in some way paved the way for the events that had followed. Was it by chance that her father died just at the moment that she had found the strength to confront people in her life. Jung would probably say “Yes, absolutely”. When we do healing work or make a breakthrough, that this is registered within the collective consciousness and then things start to happen in mysterious and unforeseen ways.
I know that enacting myths and folk tales which have been told hundreds and thousands of times, mostly through oral tradition, has powerful effects. Working with an African tale, which is even more likely to have a currently alive oral tradition, is a means of invoking the collective unconscious through which healing can happen.
The beauty of working with a story like the “Woman from the Stars” is that it raises human experience into the realm of the magical and the otherworldly. It offers a way to elevate the mundanity of this life into something that is beyond us.
