Holotropic Breathwork™
Holotropic Breathwork™ is a highly powerful experiential process involving the use of deeper and faster breathing and strong rhythmic or other evocative types of music (from ethnic drumming and chanting to orchestral to ethereal) to induce a non-ordinary state of consciousness.
During this state, the “breather” can experience intense emotions of all types, positive and negative. In the negative range, this can include feelings of anger, sadness or even extreme terror, and often corresponds with a release of energy related to particular issues being dealt with in the session. An infinite range of positive feelings can also emerge, including laughter, ecstasy and all types of spiritual states. These feelings can sometimes be expressed through vigorous body movement and verbally (crying, screaming, laughing, chanting), often both.
On a much broader level, however, the experience can become transpersonal and can include: re-experiencing the birth process, even returning to a life before birth; gaining entrance to the world of the Shaman where meetings with spirit guides or “power animals” can occur; encountering deities, demons and even mythical beings. It is also not uncommon for people in an altered state of consciousness to feel as though they are experiencing or communicating with deceased loved ones, and resolving feelings or issues related to them.
While movement during Holotropic Breathwork™ is common, sessions can also have stillness. During this time of quietness is often where the greatest healing takes place.
Whatever the contents and feelings of or about the experience, be they sad, painful, happy, or awesome, it may take several days, or often even weeks for the material experienced during the session to begin to make any sense. During that time, it is not unusual to continue to have feelings emerge, either the same ones as in the session or new ones. It is even possible to feel “spaced out” or indeed downright depressed.
What is important, however, is to realise that these feelings are an important part of the healing process and that eventually they will pass.
As this is just a brief description of the holotropic process based on my own sessions, for those wishing to gain a more in-depth insight into transpersonal consciousness, may I suggest “The Holotropic Mind” by Stanislav Grof, M.D which I found to be a great inspiration and comfort following those incredible journeys.
1st Holotropic Breathwork Workshop 14/1/1995
We began with a brief relaxation exercise which the “sitters” did as well. For some reason I always feel very nervous when I begin to relax, but slowly I allowed my body slip into a deep dreamy state with the aid of some very soothing music. Following the exercise the “sitters” once more resumed their positions beside the “breathers”. Now the music changed tempo to become the hypnotic ethnic sound, that along with my deep rapid breathing, was to take me into my first real altered state of consciousness. The following is my incredible experience:-
“I am comfortable with the breathing and totally absorbed by the music. The blanket which I brought along keeps me warm and cosy. After what seems to be half an hour, some of the people begin crying while others scream. It is a bit unnerving but I continue with my breathing and listening to the music.
A short time later I become aware that my hands are curling inwards and are being slowly drawn upwards towards my chest. Numbness sets in all over my body. Then it all begins to happen. I let go this long drawn-out scream which seems to come up from the lowest depth of my being. (Days later as I am writing this I can still hear that scream).
Now I begin to sob uncontrollably, my crying sounding exactly like that of a very young infant. My feelings are of being abandoned with no one hearing my distress. Still crying, I begin to feel very sick. Lynn is kneeling beside me. I am gagging a lot at this stage and my body is all over the place. Terrible feelings of total despair and loneliness. Drenched in sweat and crying my heart out, I suddenly become aware of the vomit in my throat. With the help of Lynn and my “sitter”, Danny, I manage to lift myself into an upright position. Still fairly agitated, I throw up several times into the plastic bag which Lynn successfully manages to hold under my head. I feel better. After resting for a few moments, I go back into my breathing again.
Once more I am drawn back into my painful isolation. The sobbing is heart-rending. My fingers claw at my head and face. My legs kick out in frustration. I am sick again, only this time it is Grainne who helps take care of me. I rest again. Now my breathing takes me much further back - right into my mother’s womb. I am desperately trying to be born.
There is a strange sensation in my left leg. It is gradually becoming increasingly difficult for me to breathe. As I gasp for breath and struggle to free myself, I begin to despair that I may never be able to get out of this horrible situation alive. Liquid fills my throat and I choke in the attempt to clear my airway. That effort brings no relief. The struggle to move out is exhausting me. There is no one to help me. I am aware that my head is pressing against something solid. With what little strength I have left, I try to push through it. I know my body is arched and that I am pushing my head against the wall because someone is putting pillows behind me to stop me from hurting myself. I am so angry because they are stopping me from getting out.
Finally I break through. I scream in absolute terror. This is my horrendous entry into the world.
Fluid in my throat is suffocating me. I gag quite forcibly, which causes me to throw up again. Almost immediately Lynn is over beside me. I feel I will never stop being sick. Afterwards I am totally exhausted. I lie back on the mattress. Within a few moments I am calmed by an incredible sense of peace which seems to fill my entire body. This is the first real pleasure I have ever known. My eyes are now wide open although I cannot see properly. Lynn is leaning over me though I do not recognise her face. I do not see her as another human being, more as a reassuring image. I slowly move my head from side to side, totally mesmerised by my surroundings. I am seeing and feeling everything for the very first time.
My fingers slowly open and close beginning their blind search for my mouth. I am only aware of my desperate urge to suck. This is my first hunger. Lynn lies down beside me and takes me in her arms. It is so comforting feeling the warmth of her body. My first experience of being loved. I latch onto the back of her hand and begin to suck vigorously. All this time she is stroking my back and making gentle little sounds. I no longer remember the pain of being born. Nothing outside this close contact with my “mother” exists, so, exhausted from my journey, I sleep.
As I begin to return from my inward journey, I am seized with an overwhelming sense of sadness. I begin to cry uncontrollably, but this time as an adult. Lynn continues to hold me. I try to tell her how much I miss my brother-in-law who died three years ago, how much I miss my natural mother whom I was taken from when five weeks old. The feelings are too painful and I just completely let myself go into the almost unbearable grief. After a while I recover. I feel I have accomplished a great deal in releasing so much buried anguish in one session. Once more I relax and allow the peaceful sounds of the music to gently wash away any trace of remaining fear or hurt. Around me, a few people are still in the final stages of dealing with their pain”.
It must have been some thirty minutes later that I felt OK to leave the room. As it turned out I was the last to leave. Lynn helped me to my feet, and I quickly discovered that I was as though I’d been in the dark forever. I had to shield my eyes against the brightness.
A few people went out to lunch while the remainder of us gathered together in the small room where we’d left our belongings. We talked a bit, mostly describing our experiences, then set about drawing our Mandalas. These are the first images which come to you following your session. They can be anything, and you don’t have to be an artist either.
The afternoon workshop began around 2.00pm. It felt slightly strange going back into that room again. I benefited from the relaxation exercise, but still felt physically dreadful. I could compare it to a night’s boozing without any sleep. I was lucky my “breather”, Danny didn’t require any assistance from me, I don’t think I’d have been up to it. As the music became more sombre, I found myself slipping back into my dark despair. Danny recovered quickly and was one of the first “breathers” to leave. I then submerged deeper into the feelings.
In the dim light, out of view, I sat curled up on the mattress where I began to quietly cry. I just needed someone to hold me. Grainne sensed my distress and asked me if I would like her to sit beside me. As soon as she embraced me I immediately cuddled into her and began sobbing my heart out. Again I talked of how I long for my “real” mother and how I’ve always wondered whether she held me when I was born.
Once more we retired to our little room, where we exchanged brief details of our experiences and the “breathers” drew their Mandalas. Neither Lynn or Grainne joined us, but they did leave in some food - cheese and chopped-up fruit. I didn’t indulge, instead I just had another couple of rice cakes and a cup of Camomile tea. That was about all I could manage.
At around 5.30pm. we all went back with Lynn and Grainne into the “session” room where we sat on the floor in a circle.
Each one of us in turn described our experience and tried to explain our Mandalas. At this point I felt very energetic and eager to share what I felt to be my horrendous birth, and the feelings of total despair at my abandonment sometime afterwards. My Mandala showed a woman giving birth, and beside that a tiny baby in a cot left to cry all by himself. The picture was coloured red.
I walked with one of the girls to my bus-stop. On the journey into town I felt very sick and exhausted. The bus journey from town to home was even worse. At one stage I thought I was going to actually pass out.
I arrived home at 7.45pm. A friend of ours had our boys staying with her overnight. I told my husband everything as I needed to talk. After a welcome cup of Camomile, I went to bed.
Some Insights + Feelings From 1st Holotropic Workshop
Clear understanding of the fear a baby feels at birth.
A lot of my insecurities and lack of self-confidence stem from my first separation from my mother at five weeks old. Also there appears to have been times when I’d been left to cry on my own for long periods.
2nd Holotropic Breathwork Workshop 11/3/1995
The afternoon session began as usual around 2.00pm. Again I felt the combination of nervousness and excitement, only this time it was a little different. I had an idea of the feelings to expect when entering my altered state. Although I find these feelings a bit unsettling, I also find them reassuring, in that I feel I’m heading in the right direction. Following the relaxation exercise, I was ready to begin my journey:-
“After about fifteen minutes of breathing I feel a heavy weight between my upper thighs, lower tummy and vagina. It isn’t unpleasant. Later my fingers begin to develop pins and needles, my hands beginning to close into fists and move upwards towards my chest. Every so often I shiver and shake even though I’m finding the breathing quite easy. Both my hands are now on my chest. They slowly move together, my fingers trying to grasp each other in a very uncoordinated fashion.
As my breathing becomes deeper and more rapid I can feel the distress rising within me.
The now familiar long drawn-out crying begins, followed immediately by a gut-wrenching scream which seems to last forever. This process continues for a long time, until eventually my eyes fill with tears. I am overcome by such a tremendous sadness that I feel I will soon die if someone doesn’t hear my pain. I need to be held, loved. Sobbing really hard, my outstretched arms are pleading with someone to lift me. Several times I choke on my tears. I am once more a young infant, abandoned.
The images which are emerging are, when I was separated from my natural mother at birth and again for the final time five weeks later. Being taken from my foster mother at two and a half years of age for adoption, and last of all, being separated from my adoptive mother at five years when I had to go into hospital for a tonsillectomy. The terrible feelings of abandonment continue.
I crawl up onto my knees and bury my face in the cushion. My heartbreaking sobs are deafening. I feel so totally isolated and missing my mother so much. I turn onto my back and calm down for a few moments. The pain is unrelenting, so the screaming begins all over again. Time does not exist. Suddenly I am very nauseated. I crawl back up onto all fours and move towards the end of the mattress. My “sitter”, Helen, is wonderful and supports my forehead while I vomit. Grainne is also there to comfort me. After I finish being sick, I decide to remain at the foot of the mattress. I lie down again and curl up as if trying to protect myself from this constant onslaught of damned despair.
Having recovered a little I go back into the breathing. The feelings are so close to the surface. Once again I am drawn back into the agony of my isolation and begin to cry. I can see myself as being very young, perhaps when I was five, in hospital. I desperately need my adoptive mother, but she’s not there. The separation from her becomes physically painfully. (Perhaps that’s why I developed an infection following the tonsillectomy).
Towards the end of the session Grainne holds me while I sob really hard for the people who have gone from my life, again including my brother-in-law.
Somebody covers me with a duevet and I begin to feel warm and secure. Helen strokes my hair and holds my hand. As the soothing music comes to an end I am feeling a lot better. I rest for a short while before returning with Helen to our little room for some refreshments. It is almost 5.15pm”.
I had a tremendous feeling of having got rid of a lot of painful shit but not quite all of it. Maybe next time. After I’d eaten, I set about drawing my Mandala. It was a bit unusual. I depicted my experience of separation in three small match-stick sketches. All three showed a woman and child, each with arms outstretched towards each other, but not quite touching. The child remains the same child in all three (new-born, two and a half years old and five years old), while the woman is actually three different mothers. I used only the colour blue.
At around 6.00pm we went back into the “session” room with Grainne. As usual we all sat in a circle on the floor. Each one of us described our experience and explained our Mandalas. Although I was fairly eager to talk about the day’s events, there was an underlying sadness which prevented me from really getting involved in the conversations.
After getting my things together I kissed and hugged Helen and Grainne then headed off to catch my bus. On the journey home, while I felt physically much better this time, there was a definite sense of sadness which wasn’t present immediately following the last session. As a result when I arrived home I wasn’t very talkative. The boys were having a good time. All I really wanted was to be left alone. I had a cup of herb tea around 10.00pm then went to bed.
Some Insights + Feelings From 2nd Holotropic Workshop
No Date:
Women giving birth possibly enter an altered state of consciousness, probably brought about by the breathing technique used in labour. The near-primal scream emitted during the transition stage may not wholly result from the intense contractions associated with this part of labour.
The feeling some women have of the baby being stuck may indeed bring them very close to the feelings they themselves experienced during their own birthing process.
No Date:
People coming out of a general anaesthetic sometimes make sounds similar to those of someone during a Holotropic session. An adult can become very child-like, especially if he/she is crying. They are totally uninhibited and desperately need comforting. The distress a young child experiences as he/she comes out of the anaesthetic is probably the best example. They are completely inconsolable, screaming and thrashing their bodies about. They are definitely reliving a past trauma.
19/20th. Mar, ’95:
Vivid memories of childhood and adolescence.
24th. Mar, ’95:
My reaction to a sudden noise while I lay awake in bed caused me to become aware of how a spider reacts to a sudden vibration. I became a spider. My body was that of a spider.
I could see the long black legs, but most of all, I felt its fear and desperate need to survive. I was not only the terrified spider, but also felt the terror of the human looking on.
25th. Mar, ;95:
Felt different. Early afternoon, while at the local shopping centre, met a girl friend. We talked for a long time, after which I felt exhausted. Desperately wanted to go home. Couldn’t think straight, I was in a daze. Later, met two other women, but found it difficult to talk to them. Felt “spaced out”. When I got home I just wanted to cry. I was mentally exhausted.
In the evening phoned my father. He told me not to expect anything from him for Mother’s Day. Hurting terribly, I said it was all right. (My parents don’t believe in giving presents or sending cards. To them, they’re just a waste of money). Later that night I began to cry. I felt totally unloved and really longed for the release I know death would bring. I had no desire to sleep so remained up ‘till 2.45am. (3.45am. new time).
No Date:
I question the existence of the state of mind generally referred to by the medical profession as “insanity”. The so-called “madman” does not scream out because of a chemical imbalance in his brain, he is merely releasing deep-rooted pain.
3rd Holotropic Breathwork Workshop 10/6/1995
“After about twenty minutes of the deep rapid breathing, I am aware of an overpowering smell of disinfectant which lasts for about five minutes. As before, my hands begin to move upwards onto my chest, whereupon I pull at my fingers in a most agitated manner. I become quite warm and kick off the blanket usually used for comfort during the early part of the session. There is now a sensation of a light weight resting on my lower tummy and vagina. Some time later I develop a strong cramp-like pain in my upper stomach which starts me off screaming. Now I am on my way.
I begin to move with a wriggling action towards the end of the mattress. Still screaming, I then begin to slowly rotate my body around what seems like every couple of minutes. I am desperately trying to propel myself down some narrow winding passage. I am frustrated and lonely and begin to cry. Continuing to push my feet into the mattress, I stretch my neck in my attempt to keep moving, all the time aware that I’m hurting all over. I am exhausted. Eventually I feel I’m close to getting out. Somebody keeps putting cushions behind my head. At one point when I push my head against the cushion, I feel resistance. For some reason this feels good. I repeatedly shove my head into the cushion, pressing with all my strength against it. At last I no longer need to continue my struggle.
I rest for a few moments before going back into my breathing. Now a terrible sadness comes over me. I am still very tiny and painfully needing my mother to hold me, but she doesn’t come. I’m crying so hard, my mouth is quivering in the same way a very young distressed infant’s might. I claw at my face and hair and furiously kick out. Later I have an image of myself again when in hospital, but this time needing my adoptive mother. Several times during my anguish I scream in unbelievable anger. Nobody fucking comes to console me. I am totally alone and hurting.
At one point I feel like I’m trying to give birth because, while lying on my back I grab the cushion behind my head and let out this long piercing scream. I then push really hard into my vagina. For a brief moment I feel like I’m going to be sick, but it doesn’t come. I rest for a while, then go back into the breathing. I am totally exhausted and just want to give up but I know there’s more shit to deal with.
After a while I’m still on my back, but this time with my legs crossed and drawn up over my tummy. My arms are also crossed and appear to be shielding my face and head. The image I now have is of my father standing over me. I know he is hitting me. I scream “Please don’t” over and over. Along with this fear and pain comes a dreadful sadness. The person I love is hurting me. (I’m not sure how long this feeling lasted). Once again I am exhausted and rest for a while. As the music becomes more soulful, I return to the overwhelming sadness which sends me back into uncontrollable sobbing. Several times during my distress, I scream out “Mamma”. I don’t know which mother I am referring to.
I’m now slightly aware of a sharp pain in the left side of my forehead usually where I get my migraines. Still distressed, I continue to scream, this time with incredible anger, and in the process draw my body up into a tight ball. I am absolutely worn out and even my cries are becoming very faint. I just want to sleep and indeed feel myself drifting off now and again.
As the session begins to draw to a close, Lynn lies beside me. I tell her about the headache and she gently massages it.
Each time she runs her thumb up into my head, she holds the piece of hair directly over the pain, pulling firmly on it. It is very relaxing and eventually there is no pain at all. I am very drowsy and content, and after a while feel ready to sit up. Lynn gives me a big hug, and I begin to feel the relief of letting go of a hell of a lot of pain today. Abby helps me get my things together and we head off inside to have something to eat and draw our Mandalas. It is around 5.45pm”.
I was feeling pretty good with a great need to share my experience with everyone. For one girl, it was her first session, and she admitted that she was totally overwhelmed by the day’s events. While we were eating and chatting I became aware of very strong vibes all around me, which added to my great feeling of well being.
Later I drew my Mandala, which this time depicted a tiny baby making his way, head first, down a winding tube. Opposite that, a very distressed young infant, arms and legs flailing, lies abandoned in a cold iron cot resembling a cage, because of its very high sides. Again, for some reason, I just used the colour blue. Perhaps it represents coldness.
At 6.30pm. we went back into the “session” room. We described our experiences and Lynn commented on each one, plus adding some additional information which I found very helpful. After we tidied up a bit, I gave Lynn a final hug and left at 7.20pm. On the journey home I was a little tired and dazed, but other than that I was fine.
Arrived home 8.30pm. Some friends had arrived earlier whom I was delighted to see. They listened intently as I recounted my remarkable experience, then they left around 9.30pm.
Some Insights + Feelings From 3rd Holotropic Workshop
No Date:
Boil on leg possibly relating to pain in leg suffered as a result of father’s beatings.
No Date:
Stomach pains probably began while still in mother’s womb as a result of either fear or frustration at being born.
No Date:
Intense fear experienced 14 years ago at seeing water through division in walk-way while boarding ship at night time, may well have been triggered by fear of dying in water during birth process.
No Date:
I got my first migraine headache just over 20 years ago, following an incident in a swimming pool, where I fell backwards down into the water. I remember letting out the same scream then as I do now during my Holotropic sessions. Obviously the experience reawakened memories of suffocating at some stage in my mother’s womb, which in turn triggered the memory of my forceps delivery, resulting in the subsequent migraines which I still suffer to this day.
20th. June, ’95:
Strong need to return to bed this morning. As I began to completely relax, I was seized by an incredible anger which had me thrashing about and screaming “Fuck you” and “Go to bloody Hell”. I don’t know who this anger was directed at. Fell asleep totally exhausted and woke up about an hour later feeling much better.
21st. June, ’95:
This morning found me back in bed still needing to deal with more painful unresolved issues. Once again, went into spontaneous altered state and began to relive what I believe to be my birth. Squirming around, pushing my heels into the bed and arching my back, I began to make agitated baby noises. Went deeper and started to gag and spit furiously. (I’d been going into spontaneous altered states for over two years, which is why I felt the need for experiential psychotherapy).
22nd./23rd. June, ’95:
Vivid childhood memories, including some very definite sounds and smells associated with happy, pleasurable moments.
13th. Jul, ’95:
At around 6.00am woke up crying out of a very distressing dream in which I was being repeatedly beaten by my French teacher for not understanding some question. When I screamed “No”, she began to ridicule me, encouraging the rest of the class to laugh and further humiliate me. Several times throughout the day I felt a bit down, which hasn’t happened for some weeks now.
Weekend Holotropic Breathwork Workshop 21-23/7/1995
I attended my first 3-day Holotropic Breathwork Workshop.
Twenty participants, including myself, were guided and supported on our inner journeys by four very caring and highly qualified psychotherapists, namely:- Ken, Brian, Hazel and Joan.
The Centre uses relaxation, meditation, guided imagery, art, music, controlled breathing and focused bodywork to help induce a deeper state of consciousness.
4th Holotropic Breathwork Workshop 21/7/1995
Ken gave a lengthy talk about the week-end in general. He then got us to introduce ourselves and talk a bit about why we were doing the Workshop. Then there was a coffee break for about fifteen minutes. Afterwards we came back into the main room where Ken guided us into a meditation during which we chose the first image that came into our minds. He then got us to visualise that image getting bigger and taller than ourselves. We had to try to feel what it was like to be that image. Then we brought it back down to its original size and visualised putting it down in the circle on the paper (we each had a large sheet of paper onto which we drew a circle). There were crayons and paint to choose from, and those who did not have brushes, did finger painting. It was a wonderful scene to observe. Everyone so completely absorbed in their own world of images, working away in almost total silence. The idea that we resembled a group of young children in playschool made me smile to myself.
My Mandala was of a large sea shell opening up with the small clam still inside it waiting to emerge. I drew it with a red crayon. I think the shell possibly signifies me, the person, beginning to open up, with the clam maybe the part of me which is still waiting to be born.
After that Ken handed out meditation sheets with lot of questions for us to reflect upon. We then broke up into two groups, ten staying in Room 3 and ten moving into Room 2. Each group then divided into five, each with a therapist. My group had Hazel. We talked intimately about our problems and tried to describe our Mandalas. That finished around 1.35pm. We then had lunch ‘till 2.20pm.
After we all returned to the main room, Ken gave another talk (around half an hour) about what happens during a Holotropic session. Following that we again divided into two groups of ten, one remaining in Room 3, the other moving into Room 2. (I was part of the latter group). My partner was Gerry who was easy with the fact that it suited me better to “breathe” in the afternoon. As usual, I felt a bit nervous before the session, and when I’m like this I talk a lot. I didn’t particularly like the idea of having my partner maybe touch my navel (as suggested by the therapists) to remind me to breathe, although I agreed to it. Our group of ten had Brian and Hazel to support us during and following our inward journeys.
The session began with a tape of Ken guiding us through a relaxation technique which was accompanied by a very beautiful piece of music. I felt this sound really helped to create a truly peaceful environment. After what seemed like fifteen or twenty minutes, Ken then asked us to change our breathing to a deeper, slower rhythm - breathing slowly into our tummies and right up through our bodies, then exhaling very slowly, bringing in our tummies as we did so. I found that exhausting!.
Following that, Ken now asked us to breathe in rhythm to the sound on the tape which was definitely a strong heartbeat. I found it very calming and hypnotic. My journey was soon to commence:-
“The breathing is going fine. Soon there is the feeling of a tight band across my lower tummy which slowly moves up over my chest. After a while the usual pins and needles set into my hands which then curl inwards and move up onto my chest. I become distressed as though I have a high fever, bringing my hands up to my face. For some reason, I’m still very conscious of the other people in the room. Perhaps it is the music which I feel is not loud enough to help me go into a deeper state.
After about three quarters of an hour, I begin to feel something happening. An incredible anger builds up which makes me want to scream at everyone around me. I hate them all for just being there. I only want to be with Lynn and Grainne (the facilitators from my previous Centre) and I’m missing them something awful.
A while later the old feeling of being trapped in the birth canal is back. I am angry at my mother for holding me back and doing nothing to help me out. Almost immediately following that I have an image of my father standing over me ready to hit out at me. I scream “No don’t” several times, then curl up into my protective ball. Again I return to my birth. I am still trapped and desperately trying to get out. At some stage Gerry, my partner, touches my navel which sends me into a rage, causing me to scream and lash out at him. I just could not bear to be touched at that particular moment. I feel utterly lost and cry out in total despair.
Just then Hazel kneels down beside me and removes my hand from my mouth. She tells me I don’t need to hide anything anymore and urges me to “let them hear you” (referring to my muffled cries). I let out a few gut-wrenching yells to which she responds with “that’s it” several times. Hazel must also sense I am trying to be born, because she puts her arm around my body in a way which makes me feel I am making my way down the birth canal. I am pushing my way through her arm, twisting and turning as I move along. All the time I’m groaning loudly from the shear exertion.
At last I feel I’m getting somewhere. On the way out I begin to cough and choke. Then the crying starts again and Hazel is encouraging me to really let it out. She lifts me up into a sitting position and sits behind me. Putting her arms around my tummy and squeezing me causes me to really cry from deep inside my belly. I remain like that for quite some time, rocking, crying and aching inside from the almost intolerable sadness. Hazel then takes me in her arms and allows me continue with my heart-rending sobbing. Eventually it subsides and she helps me lie back on the mattress, while all the time stroking my hair and comforting me just as you would a young child.
As the session draws to a close, Ken’s voice on the tape begins to slowly bring us back to our ordinary states of consciousness. This takes about fifteen minutes, half of which I sob through. I am totally inconsolable, feeling that this anguish will never end”.
After the session we went back up for a coffee break for about twenty minutes, then divided into our small groups again. My group, with Brian, also consisted of Gerry. It was great being able to relate in lengthy detail our experiences as it helped to outwardly express in words all the pain and suffering which had, just moments before, been experienced deep within ourselves.
Also I felt that because of the very intimate nature of the discussion, a bonding process developed between everyone in the group, which indeed continued to grow over the three days. Brian was very helpful in that he gave us plenty of time each to reflect upon, and try to make some sense of our experiences. He commented on each one in turn.
We then returned to the main room where Ken gave a brief talk on how we would be feeling afterwards, and allowed plenty of time for the many questions raised. He then got us to do some grounding work, where we all stood up, and with feet at shoulder distance apart, to shift our weight from foot to foot to ensure our feet were firmly on the ground. We then bent over and allowed our arms to hang down, then slowly move back up again, with our heads being the last to come up. It was all very relaxing. After saying all our farewells, we left around 6.30pm.
A couple of hours after I arrived home, I felt very sick and tired, and later developed a lot of lower tummy discomfort. I felt very cold and went to bed around 10.30pm.
Woke up around 3.00am. sweating. Opening my eyes I could still hear my angry screams as I slowly emerged from my terrifying dream relating to yesterday’s session. Still had some lower tummy discomfort not unlike a period pain. Fell back asleep somewhere around 5.00am. Dreamt my partner, Gerry, left his three year old son with me but I felt I couldn’t care for him.
5th Holotropic Breathwork Workshop 22/7/1995
Following the meditation, Ken asked if anyone wanted to talk about how things went for them yesterday evening and this morning, or if they had any dreams they’d like to discuss. Lots of people shared their feelings and dreams, but I didn’t have the courage to discuss mine within the large group, also I was still a bit upset. Afterwards we divided into our small groups. This time, Gerry did most of the talking as he was due for the morning session on the mattress. Again, Brian gave us as much time as we each needed to express our thoughts or any worries we might have had. I now felt free to discuss last night’s dream and also how I felt last night when I got home.
After the coffee break the first session of the day got underway. I was sitting for Gerry. Although I’d been so scared I wouldn’t be able to help him, everything actually worked out very well. As it happened, he’d had a very powerful experience and needed to talk through his painful ordeal. He also needed a hug. I was thankful I could help on both accounts. After lunch we began the afternoon session. This time I asked Gerry to just tip me on the arm if I needed to be reminded of the breathing. I felt the idea of touching my navel was too intimate and intrusive. The session began in the usual way with Ken’s tape helping us to relax and prepare for whatever the session would bring:-
“Almost from the moment I start breathing I begin to shake violently all over. This usually happens, but didn’t yesterday. The shaking lasts for ages, then the pins and needles set in. My hands move up over my chest and after a while I am trying to be born again. During this lengthy stage I’m moving around quite a bit, but not as much as usual. Also I’m making a lot of moaning sounds.
At some point Hazel (as I later discovered) comes behind me, lifts my head and applies pressure to my neck. This causes me to scream out many times. I still feel the need to push myself out of my mother’s vagina, and at one stage I feel my head is almost through the wall. After a while I become aware of something or someone trying to hurt me in some way. I begin to scream “No, no”, just as I did yesterday. No definite image comes to mind.
Slowly I begin to feel pain in my chest, then in my lung region. On each occasion I scream with such force, it feels as if my head will burst. I clench my fists so hard, my nails almost penetrate the palms of my hands. Now, I’m no longer aware of my surroundings or of hearing anybody else’s suffering.
A dull pain rises from my lower belly into my left side, where it finally settles and intensifies. I put my hands down on it to try and ease it, but that doesn’t work. I desperately need someone to press hard on my tummy to release the pain. Again it is Hazel (as I discover a few moments later) who kneels beside me and applies firm pressure to the centre of my gut. With this I scream out several times which leaves me absolutely exhausted. I move her hand over my left side and she continues pressing really hard. This is when I release the strongest and loudest screams of all. I keep that going for ages. Hazel reassures me that I’m doing really well.
Suddenly there is a feeling of completely letting go of what seems like massive amounts of emotional shit. I immediately break into uncontrollable weeping. The cries are coming straight up from the depths of my guts. I just lie there crying and sometimes screaming, overwhelmed by an incredible sense of having finally touched upon, and released some of this fucking pain which has plagued me all my life. All I can repeat over and over again through my tears is “Oh! God, Oh! God”.
Still beside me, Hazel places my head on her knee and gently strokes my forehead, while continuing to reassure me that everything is all right. Although I’m in a state of almost near collapse, I feel happy that I’ve really achieved something today. Hazel now helps me to turn onto my side and replaces the small cushion under my head.
Just then the session comes to an end, and I smile as I mumble “perfect timing”. The soft sound of Ken’s voice and the beautiful soulful music make me cry again. I turn onto my back and again sob through almost half of the tape, just as I did yesterday. Gradually I relax to the point where I practically fall asleep”.
I was the last to leave the room with Gerry who was a bit concerned about me. I assured him I was fine even if I was a bit wobbly.
During the coffee break I was suddenly aware that I wasn’t feeling any discomfort, either physically or emotionally. Usually at this stage I’m feeling a bit sick or on either a high or a downer. Now I was feeling nothing. I wasn’t too sure how I should be reacting to this, although I remember thinking at one stage that it was good. Afterwards we reassembled in our small groups.
I was the first to talk in our group. By now I had a new energy and was eager to share with everyone my great sense of freedom from some of the horrendous anguish which had been locked in my gut for so long. Even now I was finding it quite difficult to explain it. During my discussion with Brian it occurred to me that maybe some of my gynaecological and bowel disorders might have their roots in some dreadful experience which I can’t consciously remember. Brian agreed it was possible.
We returned to the main room for a short talk by Ken then finished up around 7.15pm.
On returning home I was a bit dazed but felt great. No nausea or discomfort of any kind. As the evening wore on I became less talkative and withdrew somewhat into myself without actually feeling depressed. At around 10.15pm. I began to feel very tired so went to bed 10.40pm.
Slept fairly well except for the early part of the night when I tossed and turned for ages, mainly because I was too bloody hot. During the times I lay awake, not once did I think about the day’s events.
Closing Day of Weekend Workshop 23/7/1995
Woke up 6.30am. Had difficulty remembering what I did yesterday. When I finally did remember it had no impact whatsoever on me. Got up 7.00am, showered, then got ready to face the day ahead. Arrived at the Centre 9.25am where a few people had already gathered in the kitchen for their early morning bevvies.
At around 9.50am we all assembled in the main room. Ken took us through a long meditation session followed by some very gentle body exercises, using just our arms and hands. It lasted about fifteen minutes and was very relaxing. Following that we had a short coffee break, after which, at 11.39am, we returned to our respective rooms to begin the only session of the day.
Gerry was on the mattress this morning, and I was feeling much more confident about helping him. As his experience was not as profound as yesterday he hardly needed any assistance from me at all. At one point during the session I was again aware of my inability to feel anything from my own experience yesterday.
On the mattress next to Gerry, one of the guys was going through a hellish ordeal. His agonising screams and violent gagging must have been a little unsettling, to say the least, for the new comers to this form of therapy. I strangely felt happy for him though, because I knew he was obviously confronting a great deal of deep-rooted pain. Afterwards I gave him a long empathetic hug.
The session ended at around 2.00pm. We then had lunch and were requested to return to our small groups at 2.45pm. I suddenly felt like being alone for some reason, also I wanted to do some writing, so I went down around 2.30pm. We eventually got going around 2.55pm. Gerry and the distressed guy discussed their experiences in great detail with Brian, who again gave them plenty of time to explore their feelings. Then it was my turn.
I told Brian how I wasn’t feeling anything apart from a mental numbness.
Also that I was a bit anxious about leaving the whole group and returning home. At that point I was fine. Then Brian reminded me how I didn’t always have the support I needed before and maybe that’s what bothering me now. I thought about that for a few seconds, then broke down. All the old hurt came flooding back. I explained how my mother in one of her dark moments, tried to kill herself at the top of the stairs in front of me when I was about six or seven, and how she’d made me drown kittens which I’d brought home after rescuing them from inevitable death.
It all came pouring out. TERROR. ANGER. HATE. Never before was I so totally open or so deeply distressed in a group situation as I was at that very moment. My feelings immediately drew me back to when I was small and vulnerable, pleading for help and longing to be loved. I was completely helpless. Brian was so understanding of my situation.
We then went up for another short coffee break.
At around 4.30pm we returned to the main room, but this time remained with our small group within the large group. This gave me the reassurance I needed just then. Ten minutes later, Ken got us one by one to talk about our experiences in as much as we wanted to, and also about how the week-end went for us in general.
While one woman was describing her pain, I began to cry quietly to myself. After a few minutes I stopped. Sometimes it would be other people’s suffering and even Ken’s sympathetic response which would touch me deeply and start me crying again.
When it came to my turn to speak, my voice just went completely hoarse and I couldn’t clear my throat. Then when I finally managed to get out a couple of words, I broke down again, but tried to keep going.
In very broken dialogue I explained the birth section of my first session (Friday) and the overwhelming release of indescribable pain during the second session (Saturday). I never felt so emotionally naked as I did just then sitting curled up against the wall.
I also told Ken that I felt the group had become like a family to me and it was going to hurt leaving them. I then explained how numb I’d felt all morning and with a gentle smile he suggested that “perhaps I was no longer numb?”. I managed a weak smile and replied “no”. Following all that, he then got each small group to form a circle right where we were sitting.
With the aid of beautiful meditative music and Ken’s guidance, we each silently thought of a special gift we’d wish each member of our group to go forward with which would help them in their everyday lives. I had no problem doing this, but when it came to me to wish for myself the special gift I needed, I just went to pieces again. My whole body shook with uncontrollable sobbing. I opened my eyes and looked over at Joan, the therapist sitting beside Ken. Silently I seemed to be begging her to help me stop crying. She nodded as if to say, keep going. Feeling so helpless and guilty that I might be disturbing everyone else, I made several attempts to close my eyes and go back into the meditation. Eventually I succeeded.
When it was all over, we began the painful process of saying our good-byes. That really tore me apart. Firstly I hugged and kissed the people within my own group, then all the others whose personalities and suffering touched me so deeply.
I had a special hug and words of thanks for each of the four therapists who helped make this week-end one of the most enlightening and fulfilling three days of my life.
It felt so strange, almost frightening, going back out for the last time. I was instantly engulfed in the late evening city sounds, which I also found to be very scary.
Arrived home 6.30pm. Felt very shaky but happy to see everyone. Ate some dinner in the kitchen with my husband while I relayed the whole day’s events to him. It was so good to have someone to talk to as I felt so disconnected from everything.
Later he played football with the boys while I went into the sitting room to listen to some soothing music. I cried for a while then fell into a very deep peaceful sleep. Afterwards I felt a lot better and was happy to listen to what the boys were telling me about their eventful day.
Now and again throughout the evening, I needed to explore my feelings in order to help begin the long process of sorting out the remaining shit still inside my head.
As the night wore on, I still wasn’t aware of any physical discomfort other than mild tiredness. Watched television for a while, had a cup of Camomile tea, then went to bed around 10.30pm.
Some Insights + Feelings From 4th / 5th Holotropic Workshops
No Date:
There is a very unhappy and confused little girl inside me who still desperately longs for the love and attention she never received when she was tiny.
I now realise that it is she who surfaces from my subconscious to unleash her unbearable anguish upon those who dare to hurt, humiliate or antagonise me.
18th Aug, ’95:
Vivid image of my mother with wild eyes and clenched teeth accusing me of being a “confounded liar”. That was a regular occurrence throughout my childhood.
No Date:
The year-long depression I suffered following the birth of my first child, was probably not so much hormone-induced, as more my complete shock reaction to the drastic demands of motherhood. Given my normal bad reaction to any new situation this realisation comes as no surprise.
No Date:
Is it possible that my total inability to comprehend even the most basic arithmetic could be due to some strange disorder similar to that of dyslexia?
30th.Aug,’95:
At around 8.30am dreamt my bedroom was covered in thick horrible cobwebs which spanned the room from wall to wall.
Within those webs were giant spiders whose legs appeared to be reaching out for me. I was terrified and began screaming for my husband to take them away. I woke up.
Later on that day, at about 1.30pm, I entered an altered state whereby I had rapid but vivid flashes of what seemed to be long spidery arms coming at me. The feeling of intense fear was ever present throughout those brief glimpses of absolute horror.
Choking on the phlegm that had lodged in my throat following a violent coughing episode, I struggled to catch my breath in a desperate bid to stay alive. Eventually the fear subsided.
Some time later, I was aware of feeling very alert and also there was a definite sense of having let go of something very frightening. Could the terrifying feelings have been a momentary re-experience of my entry into this world?
8th.Sept.’95:
Very upset yesterday and today, brought about by a family situation too difficult for me to handle in my present state of mind. At 1.15pm rang my therapist. Was very distressed on the phone for about twenty minutes. Immediately afterwards went to bed, where I continued my heart-rending sobbing until finally exhausted, I began to doze off.
Just as I was slipping into unconsciousness, I began the violent shaking familiar to me when entering an altered state. That was immediately followed by a profound shift in my physical and mental state.
Slowly I began to arch my body backwards, gradually moving it up towards the headboard. With my face pressed hard against the pillows, I let out one of my gut-wrenching screams before beginning my downward journey towards the centre of the bed. Coughing, spitting and gasping for air, I finally reached my destination. I lay waiting to be born.
6th Holotropic Breathwork Workshop 16/9/1995
Following a nice lunch hour, during which the four of us somewhat intimately discussed ourselves and our therapies, the afternoon session began at 1.30pm. Geraldine and I were “breathing”. This time I did not have a fit of the shakes while doing the relaxation exercises. I wasn’t sure whether that was good or bad, although I did enjoy the wonderful sense of calmness. And so I began my journey:-
“After about five minutes into the breathing I get a sharp pain in the left side of my head, also the feeling of a tight band across my chest. I continue on. As usual my hands curl upwards onto my chest, where I begin pulling at my fingers quite a bit, and for the first time during these sessions, also at my neck. All of this continues for about twenty minutes to half an hour, then I begin to feel the other familiar sensations of hyperventilation. They are not so strong as before.
I begin to make a kind of wailing sound which eventually develops into a full-blooded scream. Within minutes I am rotating my body backwards while groaning forcibly with each downward movement.
At some stage I have managed to propel myself far from my starting point which results in me having lost all sense of my position in the room. I am aware of cushions being placed around me and for a brief moment take refuge within their protective walls.
Descending deeper through my mother’s birth canal, I’m becoming increasingly aware of the terrible restraining effects of her taut muscles on my highly sensitive skeleton. For some reason she is holding onto me and won’t let me through. I scream “let me out” over and over until, exhausted from my frustration, I can no longer utter another word.
Drained from the shear effort to free myself, I sink into total despair and begin to cry. I continue to sob for some time. Suddenly I am seized by an overwhelming feeling of hatred towards my mother. Again I begin to scream, only this time I’m telling her “I hate you, I hate you”. The shouting is coming right up from deep within my guts. I begin to sob again.
The realisation that she was the one responsible for fucking up my whole life by causing me to hold back on everything and having no confidence to carry out even the simplest of tasks, is too much to bear. I begin screaming at her again with a renewed intensity, repeating my angry utterance “I hate you, I hate you”.
The feeling is now so great it is as if I am being totally consumed by its ferocity, and unable to cope, I eventually give up. Every so often I am reminded of my terrible situation in life, and in further fits of anger, resembling the tantrums of a toddler, I stamp my feet into the floor, pull at my hair and scream my lungs out.
Finally, exhausted and drenched in sweat, I curl up on the mattress to cry out my pain. Too distressed to accept the tissues offered by Diane, I lie in my mess of tears and snot, desperately needing to be held. I reach out and she takes my hand. After a while my sobbing subsides and I drift off to sleep for a few moments.
When I open my eyes again it is Lynn who is sitting beside me. I have a lot of discomfort in my upper tummy, but when she asks if I need help with any pain in my body, I tell her I’m fine.
I don’t know why I did that. It is as if I’m afraid to ask for help. After I talk through my experience with Lynn, I feel OK to ask her for a hug which she willingly offers and I accept. For the best part of an hour I lie listening to the beautiful music which helps me return to a more peaceful state, before returning indoors for something to eat and draw my Mandala. It is 5.00pm”.
Once again we were all together in the little room where some of us shared our experiences while eating the food prepared by Lynn. My Mandala was easy to visualise. I could immediately see a tiny person locked behind bars who seemed to be screaming “let me out”. Again I chose just the one colour, blue.
At around 5.30pm we returned to the session room where we each discussed our experience and explained as best we could, our Mandalas. During the discussions I was again aware of the absence of energy usually generated by the large group. We finished up just before 6.00pm. I gave Lynn another hug.
While I was waiting at the bus-stop, Diane came along, so we took the bus together into town. It was a very pleasant journey.
I arrived home around 7.00pm. I wasn’t really very talkative and felt that some of the dreadful anger experienced earlier was still left inside me. At about 10.00pm I got very tired, so had a cup of Camomile tea, then went straight to bed.
Some Insights + Feelings From 6th Holotropic Workshop
28th Sept.’95:
Memorising French very well from my son’s school book (I had been asking him questions).
29th Sept.’95:
Intense desire to discuss birth of my children. Perhaps it is a need to get close to some emotion experienced during my own birth.
2nd Oct.’95:
Clearly hearing words of songs previously difficult to perceive.
4th Oct.’95:
Addition to Mandala (HBW 6): Large ball of red angry fire.
7th Holotropic Breathwork Workshop 7/10/1995
Janet was my partner and she decided she wanted to “breathe” in the morning as it was her first workshop. During the relaxation exercises, I couldn’t relax my body at all because of the shakes. I just wanted it to be over as quickly as possible, but by the time Janet was ready to begin her “breathing”, I was fine. She had a very powerful experience and needed a lot of bodywork at the end. I was so glad I could help. The session ended around 1.15pm when we returned inside for lunch. The afternoon session began at 2.00pm. This time my body was fine during the relaxation exercises, so I just allowed myself to drift with the sound of Lynn’s voice. I was ready to begin my journey:-
“After five minutes of breathing I am feeling a heavy but not uncomfortable weight on my middle stomach, which later eases to become a tight band around that area. Again, as in all previous sessions, my fingers claw inwards and move up onto my chest where later they develop the usual pins and needles. Ten or fifteen minutes later I begin the struggle to free myself from my mother’s birth canal. The effort is so great I become exhausted very quickly. Having tried several times to repeat the process I become so frustrated I just give up and begin to cry.
A while later I begin the breathing again which brings me back into my anger and I begin to scream “damn you” several times. I think it is directed at my mother for holding me back. Exhausted again, I rest for a little while.
Now I am suddenly aware of an image resembling a human being dressed completely in white with a big brown spider lying in the centre of this person. It doesn’t frighten me and lasts only for a few seconds.
I return to my breathing. Pulling and clawing at my hair and face, I begin to feel a terrible isolation which causes me to cry out in anguish. Is no one ever going to hear my pain?. I abandon all hope of ever being comforted and instead withdraw into myself, quietly sobbing every now and then.
Sometime later Lynn comes over to check if I need help with my body. I tell her I have discomfort in my upper tummy, so she gets me to lie on my back and helps me return to the rapid breathing. This is to allow the energy build up to the point where I will eventually have to release it. As this begins to happen I start to cry which amazes me, and Lynn encourages me to really let it out. She applies pressure to my tummy and following a few more deep breaths, which bring about several gut-wrenching screams, I finally begin to feel some relief.
Now I’m feeling a sharp pain in the left side of my neck to which Lynn also applies pressure while I’m breathing, only this time there is an immediate reaction. Screaming hysterically, almost unable to cope with the massive energy build-up, I press Lynn’s fingers still deeper into my neck. She asks Janet to continue with the gentle pressure on my tummy while she concentrates solely on this pain.
Placing both hands around the back of my neck she begins to move her fingers over my skin. Again there is an instant release of energy which takes the form of yet another earth-shattering scream that sends me into a fit of violent coughing. I feel utterly helpless.
Still screaming, I start to gag which eventually produces lots of gooey mucus thus further relieving the discomfort both in my tummy and neck.
At last, in a state of almost total exhaustion, I lie back down on the mattress. Almost immediately I’m aware of having finally released the huge load of anger left over from the previous session, and knowing this gives me a great sense of achievement. There is no more pain.
Lynn covers me up with Janet’s blanket and places two heavy cushions against my back. It has the wonderful cradling effect needed to help me recover from that enormous discharge of painful shit. Listening to the soothing music and holding onto Janet’s fingers, I drift into a very peaceful state of consciousness. I’m ready to leave the session room at 5.30pm”.
Back in the small room I tried to eat a couple of rice cakes but found I was not hungry. Instead I drew my Mandala. It depicted an image I had following my previous workshop, of a large red ball of anger which appeared to be screaming out its message. It still seemed very relevant to this workshop. Also I drew the brown spider which I visualised during the early part of this session. This is the first time I used two colours in a Mandala, red and brown. Now I was ready to eat and drink.
At around 6.00pm. we returned to the session room where we each gave a lengthy account of our experiences and explained our Mandalas. While describing my personal journey I again became aware of my great accomplishment and also questioned the meaning of the spider image. I felt really good about myself. We finished up around 6.50pm.
During the bus journey home, a wonderful feeling of complete peace, along with a great sense of being protected by something, came over me. I felt my body was safely contained within a gold-framed glass case which was totally unbreakable, meaning I was shielded against any hurt or disaster which might befall me. I could have faced any situation just then, no matter how threatening and I knew I would have come through just fine. Tired and drained, but still feeling safe, I went to bed around 10.00pm.
Some Insights + Feelings From 7th Holotropic Workshop
7th Oct, ’95:
The image of the spider on the white garment could possibly be my first glimpse of the doctor’s hands delivering me, which at close range would resemble spiders’ legs, especially if the fingers were hairy.
Also, the white garment could again be my close-up, even if somewhat blurred, view of the doctor’s white gown as I was emerging from my mother’s vagina. I am certain these are yet more fleeting memories of my first moments of life outside the womb.
My immediate reaction to Lynn touching my neck was probably triggered by a memory where, either during or right after my delivery, someone’s hands held me under the back of my neck. It definitely feels like a birth memory.
9th Oct, ’95:
Very aware of all sounds, especially those relating to music. I’m picking up “in-between” notes that I’ve never noticed before in some of my favourite pieces of music.
10th Oct, ’95:
While glancing at the certificates on the wall in my therapist’s room, I finally recognised a small logo on one which, although having seen the certificate many times before, I could never quite distinguish what the little sign actually meant.
17th Oct, ’95:
This is probably my most profound insight to date:-
During my therapy session this morning I was expressing my distress at having gained a considerable amount of weight recently. As I was speaking, I became aware of the true fear behind my fear of gaining weight.
It isn’t only the fact that I feel I look dreadful when I’m a few pounds heavier, it’s really that whenever my body begins to take on the shape of an adult woman, I begin to feel so frightened, that I must at all cost, return to the safe confines of my small childlike body.
Secure within its skeletal walls, I feel that nothing great is expected of me, frailty exempting me from all responsibility, both towards myself and others. I am the little girl still craving love and attention, and most of all longing to be accepted as a normal member of society.
The painful truth is that none of these things ever happened in my case. No doubt I was cared for at some stage, and it is that period of my life that I’m subconsciously remembering and constantly needing to cling onto.
When I became a mother for the first time I felt so unable to cope with the huge demands of my tiny dependant baby. I was a helpless child trying to take care of an even more helpless child, and all along feeling that what I really needed was someone to take care of ME.
2nd Nov’95:
While having dinner, I suddenly had an image of a large dome-shaped glass vessel containing an embryo connected by its umbilical cord to the side of the glass. The colours were truly beautiful - red, purple, pink, blue, yellow. I desperately needed to get this image down on paper.
3rd Nov,’95:
Lots of ideas about my embryo. Wished that I could sculpture him from pottery clay or even play-doh. Needed to touch and comfort him.
Believed I originated from the Devil, carrying with me into this world, his original sin. Perhaps the pain and terror I experienced during my birth was my desperate struggle to free myself from his evil clutch.
4th Nov,’95:
Woke up out of a strange dream about a very distressed baby. Later on, needed to draw a screaming foetus expressing his anguish at trying to be born.
Weekend Holotropic Breathwork Workshop 11-12/11/1995
This 2-day Workshop was held on the 11/12 November, 1995. It was non-residential.
Ten participants, seven of whom are regulars including myself, engaged in what was to be for some, a very intense yet enlightening two days of personal discovery. During these intimate journeys we were supported and cared for, very lovingly, by Lynn. She is someone who, over the months, has become a very important part of my life.
8th Holotropic Breathwork Workshop 11/11/1995
Some people went out to lunch while the rest of us remained “at home”. We ate, chatted and drew Mandalas. When everyone arrived back, we were all having such a good time that nobody wanted to leave the little room. Lynn came back in for us at 1.45pm.
By the time we returned to the session room, I was beginning to feel a bit apprehensive about the afternoon. I eventually settled down into the relaxation exercise and so was ready to begin my journey:-
“About five minutes into the breathing, I am feeling pins and needles and numbness in my hands, arms and feet. This continues for a further fifteen minutes or so, ‘till I begin the familiar long drawn-out scream, which once again takes me back into my never-ending struggle to free myself from the womb-like prison which refuses to release me, thereby threatening my very existence.
I move from that torment to the feelings of a very young child. I have a fleeting image of a desperately distressed toddler being coaxed out from beneath a table. Whether this is done gently or aggressively, I don’t know. My crying now seems to be internal rather than external, and therefore without tears.
The sadness continues. Once again I return to the struggle which now has me furiously trying to be born. I continue to rotate and push my body down some imaginary passage until, overcome by shear frustration and exhaustion, I abandon the attempt altogether. It is at this point that I sleep for a while, before being gently reminded by Liam to continue my breathing.
For some reason I just don’t want to go back into the session, although I do resume the breathing. Within minutes I’m right back into the distress and isolation. A certain note in the piece of music sends me deep into total despair, and I begin to cry uncontrollably. Somebody covers me with my blanket and I curl up into my protective ball where I continue my heart-rending sobbing. I reject any attempts by Liam to comfort me. Lynn lies beside me and I explain my suffering, but I don’t want reassurance.
Again I slip back into a brief exhausted sleep from which I emerge feeling no better. As I prop myself up against some cushions I can still hear the pain of someone close by. Unable to hold a conversation with Liam, I curl up and rest my head on my knees. I remain in that position for quite some time. Something in the music touches me again and I begin to cry, feeling very much defeated and alone. For some reason I feel unable to face the other people inside so I hang on for another while. Eventually I leave around 5.00pm”.
Back in the small room I sat in a corner and remained virtually silent for the best part of half and hour. The others were enthusiastically discussing controversial topics, some of which I would have liked to join in, were I not still very upset and close to tears.
Sometime later I felt OK to eat and draw my Mandala. This time my image was of a small child sitting beneath a table draped in a dark green tablecloth. I used the colours green and black.
We returned to the session room around 6.00pm. Even in the group situation I found it very difficult to describe my experience. I felt weighed down by a tremendous depression, as if a lot of painful shit had been dredged up during the session but some of it was still waiting to be released. We finished up around 6.45pm.
At home I didn’t talk too much about the day’s events. I wasn’t very hungry, so I just had some soup and a cup of Camomile tea. Sometime around 11.30pm. I felt very sick and exhausted, so I went to bed.
9th Holotropic Breathwork Workshop 12/11/1995
We moved out into the session room at around 9.20am where we sat in our circle and described how things went for us last night, our dreams, if any, and how we were feeling right now. After that, Lynn had each one of us pick an Angel Card which lay face down on a plate. This card contained a word along with a small cartoon-like picture depicting the meaning, and whichever one we picked, it would be our word for the day. Mine was “Expectancy”. The picture was of a little girl opening her present.
The morning session got underway at about 10.00am. All the “breathers” had very powerful experiences, with Liam’s lasting well beyond everyone else’s. We left at 12.55pm.
After I’d finished eating, I just relaxed in the stillness of my little room that I’ve come to feel so safe in.
By 1.20pm everyone had returned and by 1.40pm we were all ready to return outside for the afternoon session. A couple of minutes into the relaxation exercises, my watch alarm went off, and as it was in my bag, there was nothing I could do about it. It was very distracting while it lasted. Apart from that, everything went fine. I became so relaxed it felt as though my whole body was slowly dissolving into the soft foam-filled mattress. With my mind free from all worries, I was now prepared for my inward journey:-
“Somewhere between ten and fifteen minutes into the breathing I can feel a tightness across my upper tummy, which later moves down into my pelvic area.
That is quickly followed by the usual pins and needles in my hands and feet.
Already there are some people deep inside their pain, and in order to divert my attention away from their anguish, I create the mental image of a white square against a black background and focus upon that instead.
It is now around twenty minutes since I began my breathing and I’ve just become aware that my hands, now curled inwards, are slowly moving up towards my neck. The unearthly scream which follows, is as usual, straight up from deep within my guts. I seem to be lying in a cot somewhere hurting like hell, and although I cry out several times to my mother to help me, she doesn’t come. The feeling of abandonment is overwhelming.
Moments later, I’m a young child, crouching in the corner of the family living room, while my father, who’s towering over me, repeatedly beats me with his leather strap on the parts of my body most easily reached. I’m begging him to stop and calling my mother to come and save me. My agony seems to last forever. I’ve never been able to express my hatred for what he’s done to me, but now I find the courage to verbally fight him off. I scream “fuck you, I hate you” as loud as I can, over and over, until there is not an ounce of strength left in me. My sobs, now weakened by exhaustion, are the tears I could not shed back then, so instead I held them in along with all the terrible unexpressed anger and humiliation. Eventually I drift off for a few moments. Liam reminds me to breathe.
Once more I’m struggling to be born, only this time, I have an intense determination to get out, something which was never present during previous attempts. My body is twisting and turning, and as it does so, I’m screaming at my mother “let me out, let me out”.
Now I have an image of a greyish-black tunnel with a tiny white foetus at the entrance waiting to be born.
Within a split second, I realise that this creature is actually me, and immediately I’m filled with an incredible energy, knowing that this must be my final strive for freedom. It feels like my mother’s vagina is opening up against the pressure of my head so I furiously propel myself through the tight passage, screaming encouragement at her as I go, “that’s it, I’m just there” and “Oh God, please let me out”. Drenched in sweat, I continue to push through until finally I emerge, weak from the great effort, but wholly ecstatic at having completed my agonising journey.
I am now so bewildered by my experience, that I begin to cry exactly as all new-born babies do. The high-pitched yells communicate my utter terror and desperate need to be comforted. While my out-stretched fingers are clawing at my face and neck, I’m descending still deeper into my distress, which eventually sickens me and I begin the awful coughing and gagging.
After some time I rest for a while, until a soulful piece of music takes me right back into my despair and I start the painful sobbing all over again, this time as an adult. The feelings of abandonment during my infancy, plus the physical and verbal abuse later on are so strong, that they now drive me into a deep depressive state, from which seems the only escape is death itself.
As my distress subsides I am aware of somebody covering me with my blanket under which I take refuge from the pain. Lynn lies beside me and I describe my eventful journey as best I can, given that I’m still a bit tearful. She is very consoling and suggests I rest for a while as I’ve just had a pretty rough time. I fall into a deep sleep and wake up ages later to find that everyone else has already gone inside, except Liam and Lynn. They are very patient and understanding. Nevertheless, I’m still embarrassed for delaying them so much. I finally leave at 5.10pm”.
Back in the little room I was full of energy and very talkative. In fact I was on a high. We were all having a really good time, and at one point I even suggested we all meet for a drink close to Christmas. The response was lukewarm.
Having finished my tea and rice cakes, I settled down to draw my Mandala. This one portrayed the image of the dark tunnel, complete with curled up foetus at the entrance, as I felt this described the most poignant moment in the session.
At around 6.00pm. we moved back out to the session room where we talked a lot about our experiences, then picked yet another card from the plate. This time mine was “Enthusiasm”, and the little picture was of people waving flags. This gathering lasted about three quarters of an hour as most of us went on to describe our painful journeys in lengthy detail. By the end of it all, I felt there was a great sense of bonding that can only occur between people who’ve shared their most intimate sufferings with each other.
After all the kissing and hugging was over, we said our farewells and began to head off home.
It was good to see my husband and the boys. Following some left-over dinner and a cup of Fennel tea, I watched television for a while then talked a little about the most extraordinary day I’d just had. I went to bed around 11.00pm.
Some Insights + Feelings From 8th / 9th Holotropic Workshops
16th Nov, ’95:
While outside the shops this morning, met the leader of my local Writers’ Workshop, who informed me, that despite my previous regular attendance, she did not invite me to a Poetry Reading in our local pub, as she assumed I would not be returning to the group. To add insult to injury, she also told me that the other members suggested I should be invited. On the many occasions I’ve been speaking to her since my temporary departure from the group, I’ve always expressed my desire to return as soon as possible to the evening gatherings which I enjoyed so much.
Being excluded, brought back very strongly, all the old feelings of rejection, isolation and loneliness that were so much part of my earlier life.
The condition known as “Post-Natal Depression” probably does not really exist. It could well be a spiritual awakening, perhaps brought about by the birth process itself. For some women it can be characterised by profound changes in personality, resulting sometimes in extreme irrational thinking and behaviour.
Sadly, those close to someone in this state sometimes do not recognise it for what it probably is, and instead see it as a mental disorder which needs to be medically treated.
20th Nov, ’95:
Yet another image of a foetus in a glass container, only this time the glass is shattered. I even had a title for it, “Broken Home”, probably meaning my mother’s fragmented state of mind during her pregnancy, which would have left me feeling very insecure and vulnerable.
28th Nov, ’95:
Around 5.00am. came out of a dream thrashing about and screaming “fuck you” at someone. I was growling like an animal and very soon realised I had been reliving one of my sessions. I was very disturbed for quite some time afterwards.
29th Nov, ’95:
At around 7.00am. while I was still in bed, I suddenly went into a spontaneous altered state where I began pushing my body up towards the headboard. My hands were clawing at my face and neck and I was producing exactly the same sounds as those I make during my breathwork sessions.
Felt a strong need to return to bed around 10.00am. Shortly after lying down I began the same ritual that I’d gone through earlier on this morning. It was much more intense this time, with a lot of vigorous body movement along with some very loud howling. Afterwards I felt a tremendous sense of having completed something which hadn’t been quite dealt with before.
Rang Lynn to discuss my decision not to go ahead with the December session, as I felt a lot of stuff was still happening from the last one. She agreed I should go with what feels right for me.
30th Nov, ’95:
Dreamed I was in another session. We were all in the small room (which was much larger in the dream), waiting for everyone to arrive. We were sitting on the floor, with Lynn seated on a chair against the wall, something which she would not normally do. There were still two people yet to come, and one was named Angela (I’ve never met anyone by that name in the group so far). The session was to take place in this room and just when we were all ready to begin, I woke up.
3rd Jan, ’96:
My adoptive mother died this evening at 8.45pm.
11th Jan, ’96:
Returned to bed around 9.30am. Fell asleep. Woke up screaming, imagining myself as a snake slithering out from a long black tunnel. Was very disturbed for a long time afterwards.
27th Jan, ’96:
Horrific nightmare: “ Dreamed my mother’s body was being kept in our box-room upstairs. There was a nurse staying with us for some reason, something to do with Mum, I think.
Over a period of several nights, I thought I saw Mum’s body moving on the bed as I passed her door. I tried to pretend it was just my imagination. Then one night while I was in my bedroom talking with the nurse, I heard a movement on the landing outside. I sensed immediately it was Mum. She was coming to scare me just like she did when I was a kid. I froze, then screamed as an unearthly thud hit the door, almost taking it off its hinges. Now, paralysed with fear, my fingers did not have the strength to turn the key in its lock, but with help from the nurse, who was much stronger than me, we managed to hold the door closed against the evil force which was threatening both our lives now. It was not to be for long.
Mum was too strong for us as she pushed her ice-cold fingers through the wooden panels and started to claw at the back of my hand. The scratches were so deep, they were bleeding. She then stuck her fingers into the nurse’s eyes, causing them to also bleed profusely.
Half dead with terror, I recognised my mother’s howling and ranting as the sounds she would make when she was going crazy in our house when I was so young and helpless. Now she was going to kill me. I prayed I would die before I had to set eyes on that stinking decomposing body that was once my mother. Just before it seemed like she was finally breaking through to me, I mercifully woke up”.
Weekend Holotropic Breathwork Workshop 10-11/2/1996
I attended this 2-day Workshop which was held on the 10/11th February, 1996. It was non-residential.
Twelve participants (seven regulars, including myself) were, as always, supported on our journeys by Lynn.
10th Holotropic Breathwork Workshop 10/2/1996
The first session got going around 9.50am. David chose me as his partner and we decided he would “breathe” first. His experience was a relatively quiet one, though he did need some body work on his arms towards the end of the session. We finally left around 1.30pm.
After lunch we started back at 2.15pm. I wasn’t particularly looking forward to my session as I feared it might all revolve around my mother’s recent death. As usual we did our relaxation exercises which helped me to forget my worries and so allow me prepare for my journey.
“After about five minutes of breathing, I’m aware of tingling sensations in my body. Some time later it feels as though something is being inserted down my throat which I vigorously resist with a lot of coughing and gagging. This discomfort continues for quite some time, with me struggling to breathe while choking on the object being forced down into my gut.
Following my desperate attempt to escape complete suffocation, I begin to sense the familiar presence of someone standing over me, lashing out at my body with a stick or strap of some kind. In intense pain I cry out to them to “please stop”, then in anger I scream “fuck you” several times. This goes on for a long time until finally worn out, I begin to cry uncontrollably.
I’ve lost all sense of time and eventually, exhausted from my suffering, I curl up on the mattress and cry quietly to myself. I’m now aware of a tremendous tension in the left side of my upper gut, which I know will have to be released sooner or later.
I close my eyes and drift peacefully into a light sleep.
When I awake Lynn is lying beside me and when she inquires how I’m feeling, I’m able to tell her about the discomfort in my gut. She gets me to turn onto my back and begins to apply gentle pressure on my tummy while I do some deep rapid breathing. Almost immediately there is a huge build up of energy which causes me to scream my lungs out. With encouragement from Lynn I keep this going, then abruptly turn over onto my tummy with her hand still in place.
In this position, I begin to cough and gag violently bringing up copious amounts of mucous, which does not seem anything near enough to rid me of the shit which has, during the course of a lifetime, remained festering inside me. I want to puke up all the anger and sadness that has fucked up my entire life, all the pain (mental and physical) inflicted by my parents, and all the hurtful remarks passed by all those cruel bastards who took advantage of me because I was never able to stand up for myself and say “STOP”.
I think it is David who hands me the tissues while I continue to spit out my pain, and I have a feeling now that I will die if this doesn’t soon stop. What seems an eternity later, I finally come out of my agonising despair needing to sit upright. As the realisation of what I’ve just been doing begins to sink in, I start to shake uncontrollably from head to toe.
Lynn remains with me, pressing her hand against my feet to help calm me down. When the shaking eventually subsides, I wrap my arms around her neck as tight as I can, and rock myself really hard for ages. I then tell her that I’ve coughed up almost a lifetime of pain and anger and that perhaps there is a connection between that and my compulsion to be sick after I’ve stuffed myself with food. She is such a good listener. I’m ready to leave at 5.55pm”.
During the break I drew my Mandala which depicted a young infant surrounded by four people, one of whom is inserting a tube-like object down a baby’s throat.
This image is also surrounded by four red markings of anger.
We returned to the session room at 6.30pm. I admired and envied the openness of the other participants and was painfully aware of my own inability to share deeply with them. For some reason I felt frightened and needed to seek comfort deep within myself.
We finished up at 7.30pm. Got home around 8.30pm.
I wasn’t too talkative with anybody so I stayed out in the kitchen for a lot of the time. At around 11.00pm got a violent bout of nausea which totally immobilised me for a while. When I recovered I tried to organise myself for bed but was too depressed to do anything. Cried really hard for about fifteen minutes, then eventually went to bed somewhere around 1.00am.
11th Holotropic Breathwork Workshop 11/2/1996
At around 9.20am we all went into the session room where we would talk about how we felt last night and describe our dreams. I was the first to speak, and as soon as I opened my mouth, I completely broke down. All the awful sadness and feelings of never having been supported in my life just came pouring out. Once I’d recovered, I went on to describe how I felt last night and remembered parts of my dream.
The first session started just before 10.00am. David had a fairly powerful experience this time and again we were the last couple to leave at 1.40pm. Lunch time was a lively event as everyone was very chatty.
The afternoon session began at 2.30pm. I was hoping for a quieter afternoon than the one I’d had yesterday. I enjoyed the relaxation exercises, then allowed my breathing and the music to guide me into my unknown destination:-
“From around ten minutes into the breathing I am beginning to feel pins and needles in my arms and feet. This is soon followed by the sensation of a weight across my upper tummy which soon fades away. Like yesterday, I’ve lost all sense of time, but it seems about three quarters of an hour later that I’m beginning my journey. My head begins to rock from side to side and I now feel an enormous energy building up inside me. It explodes in a gut-wrenching scream which sends me catapulting into my deepest inner self.
I’m back in my mother’s womb again, wriggling my way down the long black tunnel.
Once more she flexes her muscles and bars my exit, leaving me terrified with no fucking help as I struggle to find my way into the outside world. After the long battle, an uncontrollable anger begins to surface and I repeatedly scream “let me out” at the top of my lungs.
There’s a sudden respite from my suffering. I see myself as this tiny baby at one end of a greyish-black tunnel which seems to have a brilliant yellow light shining at the other end. I’m almost hypnotised by its gentle pulsating rhythm, and moving my limbs in slow motion, I’m now in a state of complete and utter ecstasy. This blissful state remains with me for some time, perhaps ten or fifteen minutes.
All too soon I return to the despair of having to complete my unaided journey from the womb. By now my body is all over the place and I’m yet again aware of cushions being placed around me. I arch my back, which by now is hurting me, then later proceed to punch the air with clenched fists. I’m so fucking angry that my screams are deafening. I’ve made my way towards the top of the mattress now, where, on my knees, I repeatedly pound the cushions like crazy, while still continuing to roar with sheer frustration. Realising I don’t have the energy to be born, I admit defeat and curl up on the mattress where I completely let myself go and cry my heart out.
Someone covers me with my blanket and I continue rocking myself while sucking the back of my hand. At some stage I fall into an exhausted sleep. When I open my eyes, Lynn is lying beside me gently stroking my hand. Still distressed, I describe my experience, and as I’m doing so, I begin to feel a little better. I tell her I have no discomfort in my body, but she remains with me for a while longer. After Lynn leaves, I pull the blanket up over my head and refuse to talk with David. I have chosen to comfort myself so I just want to be left alone. By 6.00pm. I’m ready to go, leaving one other couple behind me”.
During the break I was feeling very sensitive, so not very talkative, though I did join in some of the conversations.
I drew my Mandala showing a tunnel-like image with a tiny baby at one end and a beautiful ball of yellow light at the other. Went back into session room at 6.30pm.
Once again I was moved by the total openness of all the participants, their willingness to share what was obviously for them, very painful events in their lives. My own recall was still very restrained, deliberately omitting the most profound details of my inward journey and also still unable to express my feelings at that precise moment.
After saying all our farewells, we left at 7.50pm.
Arrived home, 8.45pm. I didn’t feel anything as bad as I did last night, so after having some left-over dinner, I talked for a while. Following a nice cup of Camomile tea, I went to bed around 12.00am.
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