The echo of our sensing — a deepening into the seasonal shift.
We are observing a transformation in our field that’s inviting us to deepen,
recalibrating to a shifting energy signature:
abiding in the gold rather than tuning into what is releasing.
Imagine an S-curve, rather than an ocean wave,
looking out for the upliftment, while seeking the deepening.
Moving more firmly into the Via Creativa.
The overarching question we have been travelling with for months:
what does it mean to be navigating the era shift together?
…is in transition.
We don’t yet know what the new question is.
We might perceive that we are being influenced
by what’s happening on the outside;
now it’s time to listen inward and recognise
the reciprocal unfolding on the inside.
A question that has been present in recent co-sensing waves is: what are the ways of deepening our practice?
If alchemy is about seeking to live, as unique, dynamic and sovereign individuals, in ever deeper alignment with the truth of our being, in a way that allows us to flourish with, in and as the complexity of all life, then deepening our practice means finding ways to open ourselves up to ever fuller immersion in the experience of living.
In our co-sensing, we felt the visceral pulling-back from the intensity of that experience—the fear of ‘losing self’, of being swept away. This is where the collective aspect comes in: there are ways in which we can support ourselves and each other in moving closer to the fire should we choose.
WHAT ARE THE WAYS IN WHICH I CAN EVER MORE FULLY IMMERSE MYSELF IN LIFE?
WHAT ARE THE WAYS IN WHICH WE CAN SUPPORT EACH OTHER COLLECTIVELY IN THIS ENDEAVOUR?
There’s an urge and habit
that brings impulsive actions to mind:
doing more, different, to allow for immersion.
There’s a resistance to follow that impulse;
instead there’s a strong need to rest,
to absorb and perceive more.
Doing activity is just jostling with the tide,
it could be fun, but it’s only an expenditure of energy
that will tire me.
If the idea is to recognise the shift,
it will occur only when the time is due.
It looks like rest is the only way for now
—it’s what my body is demanding,
but it’s counterintuitive.
Watching the shift can be magical in itself.
It’s not often that one finds oneself in the time-space intersection
where one can actually watch and be taken.
It’s not a position of helplessness or force, it’s a position of privilege.
It has to come from a strong sense of one’s place in the universe.
It’s a delicate and strong position to hold,
and it doesn’t happen often.
Immersion, this felt sense of swimming in life.
not swimming anywhere in particular,
just being a denizen of the water.
Echoes from the Bible:
carnal knowledge of another being by participating in them;
that oh so tight feedback loop in between two people making love.
The flow state, where your attention is just drawn naturally
to the right place to be ready for what’s coming at you
—a really integrated way of being.
Books have been written
about what supports us to get into this flow state;
but actually I think it’s our natural way of being.
And we live in a social environment that has been engineered
to keep us out of it;
that values something else: measurement and efficiency.
What allows me to immerse myself more in that aliveness
is being more in inner silence
so I don’t have those voices seeking to corral me
into that efficiency-and-measurement kind of social conditioning
that tells us we can’t rest,
leaving the body constantly on edge—whether it chooses to rest or not.
It can take quite a long time for the wheels to stop spinning.
I’ve chosen to live in that way now
and life has conspired to make it possible
by removing all temptations to be in busyness.
There’s a part of me that really enjoys my intellect,
and this felt like a conflict, until it occurred to me
that I can enjoy my intellect the way I enjoy my clitoris:
it’s a pleasurable thing to indulge in when I feel like it
but it doesn’t have to be the scaffolding of my experience;
I don’t have to be hostage to my sense- and meaning-making:
I can explore it, enjoy it, be tickled by it…
without identifying with it.
Then it just leads to a deeper immersion
in the embodied pleasure of the intensity.
And it’s not about losing myself in the intensity,
it’s about finding myself in the intensity;
or being myself in the intensity.
I have not met many people who are willing
—or maybe even able—
to play in that domain
so a lot of my practice consists in holding space in collective spaces
for the possibility for that to arise.
This particular collective alchemical field hosts a culture
where we can invite each other into that.
Where we can be very intimate, very close with what is arising
—whatever it is—
without being taken out of it to one removed
with concerns about: what’s the point of this? What does this get us?
It’s a playground.
There’s an unconditional legitimation of rest, and a recognition that
the pinnacle of civilizational achievement
is when everybody can just play together.
Rest & play.
This is magic, sacred & secret;
happening silently & subtly.
Since the first lock-down
I’ve been rediscovering what is essential.
I’m seeing that the practice doesn’t change
but life has swept away part of the practice.
Then it got really busy!
It’s about a connectedness to myself:
where am I centred physically?
How the body is connected to everything that makes me?
Since 2014 I’ve been fully wired in myself.
Since 2017 I have been able to control my time and activity more.
Sometimes I think I’ve just survived.
When all the active life broke away,
embracing the reduction to essentials,
I’ve been connecting the bits and pieces of my practice:
even that has been fragmented.
Cherishing, cleaning, caring for the axis around which I constellate.
And radiating out into my contexts.
Staying in the room: “I’m not them”.
Seeing the patterns from childhood:
girls being nice, helpful first—
my judgment patterns are still there!
When I can see those patterns,
as scaffoldings to buildings I don’t even want to climb!
Perhaps I don’t need scaffolding if I can fly…
The “we” is really big—people I meet on the street, in the café.
Sometimes the messages are so clear,
witnessing what happens
as a consequence of the resonant seeds I have planted.
Doing it with whoever is the newness.
Fully shining who I am with whoever,
trusting and moving in resonance.
The old practice at a different scale!
The energy of silence
is the way I can immerse more fully in life
at this time.
Yet there is another quality:
it’s different from the silence that can feel
tight, constraining, uncomfortable,
holding patterns of censorship and dissociation.
We’ve named it ‘golden silence’—
there’s a frequency/bandwidth that’s expanding,
allowing a deeper presence, engagement, restfulness.
Holding the physical, emotional, mental, spiritual
all coming into a rhythm.
How do you support the silence we might be holding,
so it can start to be a resonance or frequency that invites
into that expanded space?
Being in silence can be perceived as no desire to talk,
when it’s actually a deeper restfulness.
Working with the tension of the qualities of silence
—they are more accessible and attainable when I’m on my own.
How to drop in and sit more deeply in that space
in a way that invites a quietening?
Perhaps less needs to be named these days,
or can be named in other ways.
There’s a stilling in the field that allows
us to drop into a powerful field of presence.
Truly being in the space of that golden silence
is quite mind-blowing in its power;
simply in being there, the invitation arises,
or are there ways to name it that
open up the possibility of our being there together,
and that affirm that silence, stillness and play are legitimate?
Dropping under water.
The quality of slowly immersing,
even when the wheels are still spinning.
I don’t often have strong impulses to seek full immersion.
The magic of putting your head beneath the water:
everything is muffled!
I still love being in my cocoon
where there’s a muffled connection to what’s around me,
but I’m HERE!
I love to shut my ears to the world
—there’s too much chatter!
I recently went away for the weekend with my partner;
I loved being fully stocked on beauty, nature, silence, warmth and love,
that I can enjoy because I’m in my body.
What I didn’t enjoy was having to talk about it afterwards!
Let me staying in the muffled bubble!
Perhaps my next exploration will be
how to shine the light
even when I don’t know you
or have judged you before?
Shining the light beyond the old patterns.
brings the image of Nordic lakes.
The morning dip in the lake
whenever we feel like it.
Sometimes it’s really cold!
Lately I’m discovering:
it’s no less cold or scary,
but I know I’ve done this before.
My body knows the truth that it’s amazing!
So it’s about doing,
practicing over and over again
gives me the confidence that I know this pain
and it’s OK.
I’ve got this, I can do it.
The battle between silence and words!
Between the busyness and the silence.
Being able to shine your own light
even in those situations
where you usually shy away.
Seeking the poise and elegance
between silence and presence,
within and without,
especially in the presence of others.
I feel so good in this special silence
—that the more you practice, the more you can expand in it.
But being on my own there cannot be its only purpose.
The dismantling of my scaffolding,
my unconscious behaviours,
and the witnessing and presencing of what has been happening in the world,
has led to a chaos of destruction
of what no longer serves, and of what is not seen as precious.
I’ve been in my own chaos,
in a retreat into the silence.
Recognising that being so far away from ‘reality’,
there is a point where there is no more movement.
Creation can only happen when there is movement,
interaction with other beings.
So I need to go “out there” as well,
I can’t just stay in my temple of golden silence.
How to support each other? I have no answer.
Maybe to let others know you are available.
The difference between having an experience
and being an experience:
no perceiver, just awareness of experience occurring.
That’s how to be more embedded in life.
I don’t seem to have any control over that,
but it does occur from time to time.
What makes this ‘I’ more aware
is other human beings.
I have more access to what I might experience
because of the company I keep.
I want to hold that ‘I’ lightly.
My own sovereignty
to immerse more deeply and fully into life,
with all the difficulties and juiciness.
And to do with with others.
Who I am and each of them comes forward so much more.
Being truly IN life, being in it together,
but in my own sovereignty, my own freedom to live life.
The observation of self,
that self-awareness part
can detach me from being in the experience.
After years of yoga and meditation,
I myself inviting simply being in the flow of life
and trusting that.
Granting myself the freedom
just to be myself.
And within that, I am tracking
the impulses coming through;
the deepening connection with body and nature.
Tracking those impulses which have energy,
and allowing myself to go with them.
A presence in the moment.
Being together with others,
being open to what others are doing, being, offering
as things change
is very supportive of that deepening.
When others give voice to something I’m experiencing myself
it deepens. There is support in that.
What I notice when I’m immersed is paradoxical:
while there might be just the experience without a perceiver,
it’s an experience of relationship.
An immersion in reciprocities;
in the giving and receiving
between the inside and the outside,
particularly the natural world.
It’s not like “I’m alone in nature”
—there is complete togetherness with no need
to analyse or assess or evaluate or interpret—
just being in relationship, being immersed in beauty.
I know there’s only so much I can take
before I choose to withdraw.
And when I withdraw, I withdraw into relationship with myself:
there’s the ‘self’ that I’ve lived as all my life,
and there’s my multi-dimensional self
with whom I am having an ongoing incremental reunion,
like an incredible homecoming.
And now THAT’s what’s stepping out into the world.
So on the one hand, I feel most nourished when I’m on my own,
and on the other hand I’m never alone.
I saw myself standing
at the walls of a hospital,
feeling how my arms could hang, relaxed, loose,
with my hands open.
That’s just it.
It’s not about action,
it’s about standing where I am,
and my ability to accept what is.
How we can support each other?
my ability to both give and receive.
I am aware that my energetic centres,
around my heart and solar plexus
what I am willing to give,
what I am willing to allow in.
I believe we can choose to focus.
To live life fully, I must focus on what matters,
what’s important and what’s true.
I don’t need to focus in on what is insignificant and inconsequential.
Assessing my day,
when my focus shifts in the wrong direction,
and I don’t fully immerse in life
and feel gratitude for the potential any day can hold,
I feel out of balance.
How do we support one another?
Looking for a gas leak in the dark,
the men from the gas company
stayed with us all night, keeping us safe.
Sometimes it’s speaking up,
sometimes it’s lending a voice,
sometimes it’s offering a perspective.
The courage to speak
to inform, to enlighten, to save us.
To be confident enough to do whatever it takes:
that is what this is all about.
There is reciprocity.
Helping us to feel that together
we can deal with anything that life brings us.
How can we support each other?
Partly by recognising that we each have our own reality,
that our perspectives may be different.
Empathy: taking your pain in my heart.
Even if I don’t understand or can’t relate to it.
Because I can relate to your story I feel I can understand it.
But we all look at it slightly differently.
We can support each other by recognising each other’s realities,
without even assuming that we all know the same thing.
One way to support each other
that feels important to me,
is that we can remind each other to ground:
remembering to allow my energy
to drop out of my head
into my belly,
into the pelvic floor,
down my legs and into the earth.
When I remember,
when I feel that,
then the circle of support
goes beyond the support of other people.
It includes the soil, the rocks, the trees,
the wind and the animals.
It’s not just ‘us’
available for support.
There are layers.
There’s the story that was told,
my sense of what it would be like to have that experience,
and there’s the frequency of the words—something quite different.
What underlies that experience?
I’ve got them.
Other people, I’ve got them over time.
That sense of being grounded:
the earth has us.
How can I delve deeply enough with each person
so that whatever comes up—
I’ve got you.
“I’ve got you”
sent a reverberation through me.
I’m finding within this practice
that I am more consciously touching in
with everyone in the circle.
Whether i just see them in my mind’s eye.
Sending a ping in my awareness.
It sends out a tone from my own life.
I scan the field,
I’ve got you: you’re in the field with us.
My practice of 5 rhythms,
dancing through five frequency waves.
We come together, we enter the space
and there are all different combinations
of how we move
to the rhythm that activates,
dancing as individuals, as pairs, as small groups and as a field.
Constantly in flow.
The teachers are tracking.
Having different modalities and ways of connecting.
There’s a wholeness in that,
each with our preferences, and each modality has something to offer.
Knowing that we’re held in a much vaster space
than any circle we can hold as humans.
The reverberation of the singing bowl
sent an arrhythmia through my heart.
Something in our constellating
signaled to me an opening
that need not be named,
but there’s a pulse that is beyond our naming
nevertheless in motion.
The movement beyond can allow
further levels of naming, understanding, catalysing
that brings more into our individual and our collective beingness
that spans the globe.
I feel you all the time.
The questions today feel unnecessarily complex.
I can’t answer.
How can water immerse itself more in water?
With the support, I can sense and assume what support others need
but I don’t know.
I’m longing for specificity in balancing the abstractness.
What kind of support do I need?
I appreciate the energetic support I feel,
even when we don’t talk.
Sometimes I long for acknowledgement
of different life stages where people are.
I still have a lot to give
and I know I need to give it.
We’re on different places in the journey,
and we need different things.
I don’t know what I need and I don’t know how to ask for it.
And I feel the presence.
In the spirit of sourcing from the present
there is a longing of knowing some specificity
about our lives.
That would make it more accessible to offer and receive support.
Who showed up:
Marie-José d’Aprile, Neha Chaturvedi, Wini Condic Begov, Anna Brunain, Marianne Spitzform, Patricia Hunt Perry, Louise Carpenter, Justin Frank, Judy Wallace, Molly Whiteley, Jenny Hegland, Madeline Snow, Pieter Deceuninck, Ursula Hillbrand, Sarah Whiteley, Helen Titchen Beeth.