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Dancing on the soul's strings

Posted: Thu Feb 01, 2018 2:29 am
by Svetleka
I decided to focus more on writing about my SOLO experiments in English this round.

First, here is a partial text about my internal witness before the practice:

First, I am lost, but I am not trivial. I feel and am move, but I cannot move if I am in pain and if I am struggling, but I am both struggling and in pain. Thus, I can be neither fully open nor sincere. I feel suffocated, lonely; I am not free. I cannot move. I do not feel safe to move right now. I am not curious. Curiosity is a part of smth forgotten long ago how to feel. I am in pain right now. I witness my pain in my back as I write. I am the source of my pain in my back. I do not perceive myself clearly as a shape, as a body, a woman's body. I see my world like a thousand colourful pieces of stained glass. I am not a shape; I am not a form either. Am I a sound, perhaps? If I am a sound, I am a strange sound, because it feels purple, dark purple. The sound F(Fa) or better G (Sol). G always sounds like a crying baby. I cannot move as I cannot hear the internal music. I do not have a voice. I cannot witness myself as I am disconnected. Cut cords from reality. Reality is a cup of mirth; it is a pure joy and love. I do not see myself. It is either because I am too simple or too complicated. No... My soul is numb. It's numbness what scares me the most. I cannot move. I cannot see something that I cannot see as it is on its own. There is always an ideal version in my mind that I want to look at myself being, but I am not who I see myself in my mind eye.

My internal witness is the universe itself. I always wanted to dance with moon, stars, sun and rocks. I feel it liberates me from being something concrete and tangible. However, I am small and weak and fickle. I do not move. I love to dance with a power higher than myself, but I am too self-concerned and egoistic to let go or maybe plainly stubborn.

My internal witness is an alchemist cloaked in the starry-night cloak. I feel the presence. I am moving from within out.

Re: Dancing on the soul's strings

Posted: Thu Feb 01, 2018 2:58 am
by Svetleka
First practice

Painful sensations in my chest, as I am sitting on the floor, on the blanket. I did not want to move. I felt pain in my chest and my back. I was thinking about internal witness as I am to myself. I felt calm. I still felt the pain as I saw a rock castle right in front of me. I felt that environment around me is not friendly. I felt as if my inner body, my essence, my soul is trapped. I felt the presence of my soul as I was sitting my left arm resting near my right thigh. I saw a desert, and there was a dark table on which a glass cup full to brim was standing. I did not remember everything. I was moving next. Then, I saw a staff that I was holding in one hand and a cup that I was holding in another. I was overcompensating for something in my life. I understood, sensed and saw that the pain in my chest represents something in my past that I do not want to see. I turn my body to my personal history, I swung my head down and went with my fingers through my hair several times, then I stopped.

I am sure it was something in my past that created tension in my back and the pain, real physical pain in my chest. The pain is the vital strand of this memory and its vague symbols. It frightens my soul pulling it from my body. It is real and is painful. I am writing from my pain, spilling ink on the white surface of the page. I feel the real and metaphorical. The red strands of this calamity. Broken castles, broken hopes, love-hate lost battle, my childhood memories. I hide and cling to unconsciously. I am trying to overcompensate them in my adulthood so that I do not relate to them.

- Sveta, - I say to myself. - There is something about your childhood that you repress and I agree.
There is something that I left behind, that I do not want to live through or feel about my inner feelings and desires. There are locked metaphorically inside, and my pain is the only key to free my soul, my spirit, my inner self. Finally, as I was standing, I started to clap my hands. As I was doing this, I heard the rhythm. I felt the rhythm. It was reverberating through my hands and arms. I felt anxious and unsure; I did not feel safe. I had a sharp transition. I just put my hand down before the timer went off.

Re: Dancing on the soul's strings

Posted: Wed Feb 14, 2018 5:22 am
by Svetleka
Focus on the body. Focus on the emotions. Focus on my visions.
Tensions, but also lightness. Shoulders are tense. I see a vision of cracked glass or glass cup. I am in the middle of the desert. Silent desert. I am alone. Fear, inability to understand my self. It is not cheerful mood.I feel darkness inside of me, and I am alone. All I wanted is to get rid of the pain in my back. What memories are hidden there? What my back holds for me? Why I do not what to see it? Swamps. I contemplate greenish, yellowish mud just under my feet. I cannot talk. I blurb words out as if they do not belong to me. It is excruciating. I want to close my eyes. I want neither feel nor see. I am tense. I cannot allow myself to see the whole picture.
'I have no right to be. The only person, I can be is myself, but I do not have such right!'

I saw myself in the desert. Again, I have acute pain in my back. I feel it strongly. I feel numbness in my feelings. Then, I saw as someone from the past was watching my movements. I was sad; I felt worthless. The figure from the past represented hope for me. Then, I felt uncomfortable in my surroundings, and I felt something steering in my chest. I sensed that I need to be protected from the outside world. The depression felt like a canopy stretching over me. I felt worthless. I could not move again. The pain intensified, I stretched out my hand I felt as if nervous strands were coming from my hands and my body. My body was telling me that I must, I have to act, but my mind and soul was sad, almost numb. I could not move. Thus, I stretched out on the floor.
'It feels like Rodin's material' - I thought to myself. - It is tempting to think about the process as if I am sculpting myself from the white clay. I caged my mind, my being. I am torn in all direction by controversial thoughts, ideas, feelings and memories. It's sadness that I feel'.

I took my hands to the chest removing strands of the glass When I was lying on the floor, I was thinking
'I will allow this strong feeling of sadness to pass. I do not know if it is mine or not. But, let it pass'.

This deep sadness. I took my hands to the chest again as if I was praying. I was praying with my hands. I needed hope. Then again, I focused on the visions. A man was carrying the basket full of stones on his back. That is who I am worthless. Thus, I had to burden my self with every feeling for others not only myself. Worthless. I am not good enough to feel happy. I turned away from the world Clasped my hands around my knees. I need to protect myself. The child from the desert came to me, giving me a stuffed bunny. I did feel trust. I felt rejected and alone. However, I opened at that moment, lying on the back, hugging my shoulders.
'I have a right to be here.'
The timer went off.

Re: Dancing on the soul's strings

Posted: Wed Feb 14, 2018 5:57 am
by Svetleka
My internal witness. My shadow side. I would like to learn more about my inner resources; I would like to see something that guides my internal self. What kind of feeling is it? How do I picture my power and what blocks it?

I am again lying down on the floor. I see the story of Frida based on her life and her paintings. Frida's heart, when she is caught in her accident that crushed her body and turned her to the arts. Shattered glass all around her, the crumpled body of the genius that gave life to her pictures. The broken body of hers is beautiful, fragile, disfigured and yet supple and full of life.

I extend my hand away from my body, and there is a pot with the fertile soil with a green shot of grass. My shoulders are full of life, but they are caged in my back. The heart is shattered and bleeding, but there are tentacles come from it, and I feel alive through them. Strangely and beautifully alive. I return home to the place where I spent my childhood. I dream of my old apartment back then. I remember my room where I lived when I was a teenager. Strangely enough, the window in my room now is colourful (mostly purple) stained-glass window as I always imagined it. It forms beautiful shades of colours on the walls. I feel at ease as if I created it.
There is a picture that I painted. I called it 'Splinters'. It is how I understood the reality when everyone sees the world as disconnected in splinters and thus distorted. And I painted a people, the wise. There a few of them that now try to find lost fragments to put them together as a whole, to remove the distorted vision of the reality.

I focus on my body now. The warmth is in my heart as I saw paintings of Frida in my head. As I said before my body hides my past, my secrets, traumas that I overcompensate with art, literature, music later in my life. I try to erase those feelings. I do not want to see them. I release my full body into my hands and stretch my back. It is a relief.

I focus on my feelings. There is an anxiety, then I pull my legs closer to my belly, and there is a shame. A feel it now. Shame is in my lower body. Anxiety reigns inside my stomach and up. I started from lying on my belly. I pulled my hands closer to the chest, and I found there my anger. I am now lying open on my back. I see a desert. I am a small girl in blue robes. I release my hands towards the sky. I feel my breath is the wind and in the azure blue air, there is a heart. A big heart. And my breath is this mighty wind. I feel like a snail in the shell that I cannot go from and I cannot escape. But, up there in the sky, there are bridges and one of the bridges leads to the beautiful city full of golden light, and I know that in that place I am loved.

I open my eyes just a minute before the timer.

Re: Dancing on the soul's strings

Posted: Wed Feb 14, 2018 6:21 am
by Svetleka
I wanted to see the relationship between my masculine and feminine sides.

Again I was sitting in the desert. There were holes in my back or empty doorways. The image was surreal something similar to the paintings of Dali (actually in some way identical). I was looking towards horizon and the empty space was looking inside my self. Then, I saw another of his paintings (Dali's), a naked woman's body with the tigers. I became a tiger. I clutched my teeth as if I was roaring and then my jaws relaxed.

I lied down on my back, my hands outstretched. I saw a man coming from behind, pulling by my hair, myself away from this desert. I saw the crabs were escaping from my palms, crawling towards my chest. There was a deep hole. It was my secrets inside which I cannot touch, not yet. There were going there.

I lied down on my back, pulled my hands towards the chest feeling anger. I was sad and anxious. I pulled my legs into my chest, turning myself into a ball. Lastly, I saw the asteroid coming from the sky. It somehow reignited my own heart.