Calypso bulbosa = Calypso Orchid
Vergleich: Siehe: Asparagales
[Roland Guenther]
When I saw my first Calypso Orchid in the shade
of Spruce trees in the foothills of Alberta, I felt enchanted and decided right
away, that one day I will dive into its energy to understand the strong
attraction I felt. Three years later I was ready to do it.
In June 2010 a group of 2 men and 3 women met
in Calgary, Alberta, in order to do a C4-homeopathic trituration
of the Calypso Orchid (Calypso bulbosa).
There is a longing, a desire, a yearning.
Something enchanting is calling me, not loud, not obviously. Something is
attracting me. A woman letting me see a little bit of her exposed breast, as if
by coincidence, yet still intentionally. A hush of a smile, a whiff of a smell
of a flower, of a sensuous perfume. She is not even looking at me, I do not
know if she is aware of my stare, of the hunger, the desire she evoked in me. I
fall for her, attracted like a moth to a candle flame. Enchanted. I want to
sink into the arms of this woman, I want to disappear in her. I feel like I’m
drugged. Drugged by my own desire, which gets me out of my mind. I can’t think
straight anymore. I would leave my wife and my children for that woman, for that
promise to completely expand into a cloud of sensuality, into a colourful
fragrance.
The German myth of the Loreley
comes to mind: Her singing, her golden hair, her body hardly hidden, seduces
the fisherman to go with his boat in dangerous currents and perish on the
rocks.
A promise of blissful fulfilment is stimulating
my body, my soul. Being with this woman must be like being enlightened, it is
not about sex, it is the highest bliss, physical and spiritual.
I am intoxicated. I am losing control over myself,
there is no reason, no willpower in this body of mine anymore. Reality does not
matter. The crying of my hungry children, the tears in my wife’s eyes, they do
not reach me, do not touch me. I only see this treacherous yet overpowering
image, this otherworldly elf, this nymph, that took my soul away. It is like an
eddy, a whirling vortex of bliss that sucks me in. I have no resistance. Being
reasonable, thinking clearly would be like cutting out the most precious part
of who I am.
I am intoxicated with a magic potion, caught in
utmost beauty and I am ready to surrender to it. And if this body should be
ruined afterwards, if my soul should be insane, if I should wander the streets
in rags, it is all worth it. I am willing to give myself up. It feels as if I
will find what I am thirsty for deep in my soul. If someone would tell me, it
is poison and if I drink it, I would die, I would drink twice as much, to make
sure I would never wake up. I feel bewitched; I am a victim of this
fascination. I also can feel the arrogance on the other side but I block it
out.
The overall sensation in this C1 is one of
letting go of myself in a whirling eddy, in colours yellow and orange; I am
twisting, sinking and disappearing in complete bliss.
Female genitalia, folds of skin beckoning.
Sexual liaisons, affairs, one night stands. Intoxicating attraction. Many
suitors swirling, buzzing around the princess, hoping to be chosen to be the
one who finds what lies beneath her finery.
There is an outer life and an inner life
divided. The princess is loath to give herself up, because she knows she will
wither with each baby. I have images of silky hair flowing, insects caught in
the honey exuding from it. I heard the sound of something under the earth. The
image was Mother Earth groaning with giving life; groaning because all of them
will die and she will give birth again. There was a lot about dying. The
palliative of the dying is the birthing. Something falls off with the ripening.
It was so pretty, now disfigured. I had a feeling of disgust and contempt along
with this arrogance that had been already mentioned. Dancing little people,
they laugh because they live so long. They laugh in your face.
There is a rivalry about who is the best among
the babies. There is a feeling of royalty in the life of the princess and then
the underside of it, the life of the servants and the life of the rest of the
household. Under her royal finery the servants are doing the dirty work. The
princess escapes to the simple life of the kitchen until she comes of age. The
life cycle is inevitable, there is no way out of it. But her finery is no
compensation for what she endures to carry along the procession of heirs.
Also had a feeling of seduction, of
promiscuity, without taking part in procreation. An animal like sensation of
competition and jealousy. Infertility is a blessing.
And then I was in an orange room inside the
lower. The sensation was one of drawing down, something pulls you down, you are
lured in, and down you go inside the flower; it’s orange in colour; like the
house, the living space is hidden from the front.
Physical symptoms:
My head swivels from side to side. Coughing and
a thick feeling in the back of the throat. I am aware of my throat and eosophagus. I felt pressure on my head and my forehead.
I have the image of a woman with hunter boots
and a hat, she is on a safari. I got this feeling, it would be very nice to
relax in a spa. Yesterday I had been bitten by mosquitoes and I have been
scratching a lot. Today I have no itching at all. I find that strange. Then I
felt heavy, almost like intoxicated after wine. I am very sensually aroused.
All my senses are on high alert, visual, touch, hearing, smell. I heard music,
very soothing harp music. I felt like being located in some fairyland, there
were no worries. Even the food was served on a velvety cloth, silky velvety.
There was a pleasant fruity aroma in the air.
In the end I had this song of the movie Junglebook in my mind, where this girl sings and she is
enticing the boy and the bear Balu says: “He is
hooked now.” And when she drops the water, then the boy is running and he is
like in this intoxicated state.
In the beginning it was strange, I heard
screaming, a high pitched screaming. I felt really tight. Then I heard an
enchanting, mystical music. I got this feeling of wanting to hide, I did not
want to be seen. Then I had visions of really beautiful women, vicious and
sexy, and I’ve seen all the different parts of a woman.
I got the feeling of having no control. I am
beautiful but I am having no control, or even being controlled by the wind. “I
can tell you everything but teach you nothing.”
Then there was a dinner party with a vase of
orchids. Everybody was feeling drawn to the orchids, but when you walked away
from the orchid, I had the feeling of the orchids judging you. Then I had the
image of a geisha, elegant, amazingly beautiful, being so attractive but having
a dark, a very dark side. A lot of sexual stuff: trapping, a brothel, they lure
you in, they get you.
Then it was like the energy is taking me deep,
deep down into the earth, the physical and the energetic root going together.
Then I felt numb, hopeless. We really don’t get it. I felt like a victim. I saw
Jesus on a cross. I saw the world and the planet, the poverty and the oil
spill. I get this mothering feeling and ask: Why are we bringing children into
the world? I realize the spoiling of our physical being with each child we
bring into the world, how our physicality is broken.
The sensation was dark, hopeless. Deception. I
keep seeing the whores, the big boobs, the brothel, it’s all about luring in.
Physical symptoms:
Eyes itchy. I felt really cold.
Play – let’s play!
Music of the spheres. She sings, I am choking.
I have a sharp pain at the right temple, piercing. Train whistles are blowing,
metal tracks, metal on metal. Then I hear: “I am Calypso. Come with me. I have
secrets to share. Come, know me as I know you . I know your desires – speak
them to me. Your longings are my longings … Give them to me.”
“But I will get lost!”
“I will find you. I will always find you. For
you are in me and I am in you …Slower now: Touch me. Caress me.
Every cell within me trembles and vibrates with
your touch, gentle and slow. Stay with me now. Remove your rings! There is only
us. You and I in the place of secrets, desires and longings. Rest now, sleep!”
The bowl itself becomes pulsating and hypnotic.
(I manage to spill on myself with every scraping like inevitable fairy dust!)
I imagine passing on to my granddaughter the
miracle of trituration, the secrets of life. Secrets
that until now have rested in the dark and are now ready to enter the light.
This is my thought and Calypso says to write it, she approves. “I walk with
your granddaughter. I choose who I walk with. Not all can hear my call. Young
girls will hear my call. They are turning to my call. It is a knowing that is
mistaken for seduction … Come, know yourself in me. I will reveal.”
At this time in the trituration
I am in the spell, I take off my rings. It is very hard, they are in my heart,
they mean a lot to me.
“Stay – with me only. If you leave, I will die.
Who will know me, if you are not here? I will forever call to you but you will
never find me. For you could only find yourself in me …And now you are as lost
to me. I will find another.”
Sensation: Enthralled, hypnotized. It feels
like a vertigo, a dizziness, spiraling down counter
clockwise.
Gesture: a counter clockwise circling of the
upper body when sitting, a gentle rocking, lulling to sleep, welcoming. It is
rest, ease. As if saying: Come into me!
C2
I have the sensation of spiraling
downward infinitely. But I do not really want to go down, it’s gonna be very mucky and very bad at the bottom. I do not
want to see what there is to see for me at the ultimate point of this downward
spiral. I am thinking I should stop it but I can’t really stop it. So I try to
stop it because I do not want to reach the bottom because it is not gonna be good. I am not gonna
want to see it. Then I am trying to be distracted from what this was leading
to. So I was thinking about eating bacon and eggs or a bacon and tomato
sandwich and devouring it. I am devouring this food to feed the babies in my
belly and then vomit.
There was a cold, restless, very uncomfortable
feeling in my body. Together with that was an out-of-it, an intoxication
feeling. I became aware of my mouth and my lips and my belly. And then there
was this image of planting my feet near the water so I am nourished and I’m in
the dirt delicately but firmly to get my needed nutrients.
Then I felt cramping like menstrual cramps and
that’s odd because I no longer menstruate. I was bloated as if my period was
coming. And then there were insects and ladybugs and fireflies and the feeling
of: Who is the best? And then boredom. I feel like being in sixth month
pregnancy and bored and I don’t care anymore. A feeling of a baby that doesn’t
want to be born, holds his breath, comes out red like burnt with salt, the way
they used to abort babies in the second trimester, burnt them with salt, forced
the baby out. Get rid of it, you’ll never be a mother now! Your uterus is
turned inside out, broken. Parasites suck out the life and give back only their
shit. I have this terrible heaviness of my head, I lay it on the table.
And then there was this feeling, which is all centered around the uterus: besieged, forgotten, left to
rot, worms taking my flesh to a quick end, my body becomes a skeleton consumed
by my deliveries. Ashes to ashes, dust to dust. Leaving the earth now, taken by
the cancer in my belly after the babies could no longer live there and the
worms took over. The shit leaked into my vagina and uterus, porous, full of
holes, tearing like parchment. I am loathing this female existence that ends in
such a bitter destruction. I am undone by my cunt. I should have been sown up
at birth and dedicated to a monastic life, kept away from the sins of the
world. I let them enter into my body and I am ruined.
I feel myself sucked in, spiraling
downward, reluctantly. I am floating in the dark. I am resisting. I am pushing
out spikes with tiny little hooks and barbs to keep myself from being sucked
in, from being washed away from the current. I try to keep control. With my
teeth clenched firmly I try to keep a clear mind, I drink tea and coffee in
order to keep my cool, in order not to be swept away. Wherever this current
wants to take me, I do not want to go there. I do not feel anything. It is
empty here. I feel very mental. I am cold, analytical, planning, untouchable. I
am in control, I am focused, I know what I want. Strong will power. I am not
affected by anyone trying to lure me in. I am cold, calculating, harsh. I am
bored. If someone would tell me about beauty, I would analyze the structure of
this beauty, I would be able to describe it but not to feel it. I want to get
it over with.
I am very alert and watchful. Is anybody gonna lure my woman? I am cold for any attraction,
insensitive to any sensuality. Sharp: Fuck you! I am willing to cut, to hurt.
The image that my partner would fall in love with somebody else, makes me ice
cold. No feelings. I want to cut, to cut things apart, to cut beauty apart, to
cut clean through a flower of an orchid. A clear clean cut, without much
effort, with a precision and an elegance of a surgeon’s scalpel.
The sensation is the desire to stay in control.
Desire to cut with an extremely sharp instrument, like a scalpel. Ice cold.
Gesture: Holding a scalpel and cutting an orchid flower diagonally apart.
Cold, still silence. I wait for you, Calypso.
“I am here. They laugh, they scorn, they
ridicule. They do not know. I also suffer.
How is it that I come to know your longings,
desires and secrets? It is because I too suffer. I suffer with the longing to
be at one. Fools! You mistake my longing for oneness with fornication. That you
can leave for the animals … What I offer is far beyond that but still You
cannot hear. You mistake siren’s sound for death. It is in your mortal death
that you can even come close to my knowing. Go away from me!
I will sing a happy tune in your absence.
Choose suffering or choose death! I offer life…
Listen! I am yours and you are mine. If you
would know this, you would not disdain my lessons in your life.
Enter the darkness of desires, I will show you
the way.
We are one now … Deeper into the darkness. Do
not disdain the odour, the stink, the rot. It is all fertile – rot brings forth
life and growth. Do not turn away from the stench. Now – put your nose to it …
I am here, do not be afraid, I know the stench.
I have come to love the stench, it brings forth life. I receive the stench. I
transform the stench. Smell it: It is the waste of humanity.
It is enough to stay with me. Rest!
Can you hear that? Listen!”
“What is it, Calypso?”
“It is the sound of weeping. Can you not
recognize the weeping of your own children?” “Yes, I hear it now. I cannot help
them. I have never been able to help their sorrows.” “Give them to me! Come to
me and I can give comfort – solace from the sorrow. Bring them to me! All the
sadness, all the suffering … I will hold them in my womb. The scraping of the
womb, the fetus dead. Stench and death and rot
carried in the womb – only Calypso can cure.”
My stomach feels bloated, gassy, my abdomen is
swollen. “I can abort the stench, expel the rot. Leave me to do my work. I am
one with the woman, the men can live with their lust. Men lust while their
women suffer. It is not me who seduces but they who are seduced. I care not for
their attentions while the women suffer. Can they not hear the weeping and
wailing of those whom I love and care for as my own? My seduction is nothing
but lust turned inward – you seek what you cannot find. Enter me and I will
show you the folly of your ways. I will not be disregarded nor ignored. And betray
me at your own peril. I will not suffer to be scorned.”
She sings her siren song in three part harmony.
I have a heaving sensation in my chest as if ready to explode in anger.
“Do you have a message for men?”
“They are easy – too easily led by beauty.
Bring them to me and I will show them what it
is to be swallowed whole and then spit out – rejected for such foolishness.
They will learn and they will know. Come to me and I will show you the
suffering of women.”
“For women?”
“I am your friend. I am the great revealer of all that is now hidden to you. I am your
liberator and your doorway to the mysteries of life, of birth and of death. I
am the great womb. Others have come before me but now my mysteries are being
revealed. Come to me. Scrape all you want – in the womb, in the bowl …. you
cannot scrape away who I am.
Now enter into and feel my velvet lining … Here
is where life is safe: fed, clothed, watered. What need do you have of these
while you are with me and in me … I give you everything and all: I feed you, I
nourish you, I protect you. Come stay with me a while and rest. Soon enough
there will be pain and suffering and struggle.
For now abide with me. I will soften the
weeping and wailing – keep your ears in velvet softness. Hush now … Now I will
touch you and caress you until every cell within you vibrates and pulses with
the blood of my blood.”
My hand is cramping. My head and face is numb
and tingling. It is a light-headed feeling with a bit of nausea.. The sensation
is pulsating, floating, womb-like, carried on a wave and rocked gently.
I really had a feeling of intoxication. It was
bizarre.
I had this image of a young woman in a white
flowing dress, her hair was wavy, dancing in a lush green field. Then I had the
feeling of her being swept away, being raped. “Just because I am beautiful does
not mean, I want to be touched by you or even have you inside me.” Then I heard
Calypso say to the man: “She is yours. You can have her.”
I have been very chilly, especially on my feet.
I also have been very sleepy. It was a laborious task not to let my eyelids
drop. I was totally devoid of energy. I am feeling mentally and physically worn
down. I believe that my turn is over. I can’t get my thoughts together. I
experience a drooping of energy. I just want to curl up and lie down. I want to
feel cozy.
The sensation was a drooping and draining
sensation, as if the body is depleted of fluids like a dehydration. Almost as
if seminal fluids have been drained out and left me depleted, collapsed. And
also a little ashamed with it.
C3
There was a feeling of acceptance of seeing the
juxtaposition of suffering with innocence. I saw butterflies entertaining
children at the fence of Auschwitz. There was a scene of children enjoying the
mangoes under a mango tree, and they did not know that their grandmother was
dying of cancer and that her mom had found a new boyfriend and worked downtown
in her small red dress. And the mango and the heat and the promise of grandma’s
best fish supper is all there is. Daddy did not come here, he knows that uncle
would chase him away. Little girls should not lift their skirts around daddies.
Living in a female body on this plane, one is
bound to make sacrifices. Flesh gives way to flesh so it can continue. I think
it otherwise or drug myself or opt out of the gene pool. In whispers the
ancestors said:
“Live as this Calypso flower so that they may
be around as teachers for this experience. And we toil because we cannot accept
the facts and think, we should not suffer.” Only thinking makes it so. The
birds watch and sing whether their mating results in babies or not. Just keep
on mating. Detach body from soul, if you must, to get it done. Covered with
snow there is no sorrow in it; only waiting for death or another season. No
need for seduction now because it is complete.
“But what if I am hungry for it?” – “Then it
will be yours for pleasure. Pain and suffering can now be avoided. If you keep
the body free of disease, which you cannot do entirely. Ha, got you!! You
thought, you could just relax and have fun! Chlamydia, gonorrhoea, syphilis,
herpes and all live in your playground! Wrap it up, babe! “
Then there was a more peaceful feeling. The
knees of the fetus being drawn up comfortably in the
womb. Bliss walking in the delivery room, and then they begin their torture
with their poor technology for birthing. But I can watch it now. Part of
earning my way to freedom. One birth at a time, I paid all back! If this one is
hard, maybe I get bonus marks and ‘E’ for effort. And I keep on and on.
The sensation was this peace amid violence and
an acceptance seeing the suffering resigned to it. Play when you can! Play
safe, or it will bite you. But then it all goes faster and it is over sooner,
the cycle of life and death.
I felt more at peace.
I had a shuddering sensation throughout my
body. Hearing: everything is too loud, even the softest sounds. There is too
much noise, every sound is amplified, especially soft noises. There is
trembling of my head, as if a slight shaking saying ‘no’. It is a palsy kind of
shake and trembling like in an elderly, aged, withered woman. Am reminded of
Katherine Hepburn in her last years. My eyelids are sleepy and droopy. I want
to lie in the sun and cool, the perfect temperature for me would be the feet in
the dark and cool and the warm light on my face. I am yawning. My right ear got
sore. My body was separating from my will, it felt like a disassociation.
I had heat in my face as if flushed from
working in the sun.
Then I had an image of a woman stepping out of
herself in a new form, like being reborn and free. She is birthing herself by
shedding the old skin, the old self. My head hurts.
Then I am counting down: 3 × 3 = 9. Trimester x
trimester. C1, C2, C3. One third, one third, one third. Each trituration level a gestation of 9. 9 is a magical number.
During the whole fourth round I was in a deep meditative state. I felt
disembodied. I felt reluctant and it was hard to come back into my body. It was
as if I had no body, I was here and not here. Coming out of that I felt indifferent
to everyone else as persons or humans. No emotions, no thoughts. Etherically I was somewhere else, even though all my senses
were intact. What we are doing is without meaning in this state.
Very bad cramping in my abdomen, it was very
uncomfortable. I had to move my lower back. Hurry up and get done! Thank God,
the round is over! It is a drudge, a grind, right up there with cleaning
toilets. It takes so much effort!
This will be a relief to get this last round
over with. It is like boring sex, the same way every time. Or like sexual
abuse: Just get it over with and leave me alone! Very dispassionate: The
honeymoon is over.
I have images of seduction, being lured in with
the promise of sex. Promiscuity comes up and sexual abuse. It is hopeless here,
I cannot see any chance of getting out of this again. Calypso is a homewrecker.
I am so bored. All the thrill, the enchantment
is gone. I look down on my body, there is not the least desire. This state of mental
rationality is more dead than any fall into the downward spiral of seduction
and desire, however destructive or perverse it might be. It is still life, it
is alive! This boredom here makes me loath, makes me gag. No mistake, no wrong
turn, no sin can be as blasphemic as this state of
unfeeling coldness that I am in.
Every whore is more reverent to life than I am
now. I need a kick, a sick, morbid thrill, that would give the illusion of
feeling, of being passionate, of being alive again! Maybe fucking a tied up
woman would turn me on, maybe sex with two women, maybe rape. Just something
that gets me out of my cold cold prison, something
that is worth living or dying for, something less cold than numbers and money.
A body alive, a body full of lust, full of pain!
I gotta get out of
this office building made of glass, concrete and steel. I gotta
get out of here! What am I gonna do? Laying in the
sun, getting myself warmed up? It is too boring. A whore would be more
exciting. I lost something. I lost this whirling eddy of passion for myself and
for life. I try to find it in lust and excitement. I will only get the syphilis
from it.
Something in my soul talks of love. I can’t
feel it. Something in my soul talks of a gentle touch, my finger caressing her
soft body. It does not excite me. Soft colours do not reach me. It’s gotta be red in black, blood and pain coming out of a hot
dark body, fire burning through the night of my soul, dividing the boring grey
into the colours of Hades, in red and black. I will kill myself, if I would not
start feeling again. I would kill myself if there wouldn’t be whores, women
with the devil in their bodies, a putrid, poisonous mixture of lust, disgust,
blood and hate. It is pure pain. The immaculate beauty of pain and suffering,
screaming and stinking towards heaven.
Is it this, that you gave us, God? Is it hat???
I hear the nightshade laughter, a loud heinous
laughter. I hear screaming, pain screaming. I drown in it, dragged down in a
spiral, down, down, endlessly. If there is hell, that’s it. If there is Satan,
that’s him, and that’s me. If there is Hades, then give me these flowers of
evil, give me this blood red fruit of the underworld, I will devour it, full of
disgust about myself. I see my body bursting in blood and pus and decay.
The sensation is spiraling
down and disgust.
Morning Sharing Round of the Second Day of the Trituration
Dream: Roland was amongst several other people
in a green field, it was like a hill. He was the only one I could really
recognize. Fireflies were putting on a show for us. It was amazing because they
were synchronized, but there was a sense of violence with it. It was strange.
The way they were interacting towards each other, they were smashing and then
they would go off and it was very peaceful and then they would come back and
smash. I was on a balcony, wanting to watch the show but not really. I didn’t
join Roland and the audience, I stayed on the balcony and watched from a
distance. - - - -
Dream: Someone was holding my dog over the
toilet, so she would pee in the toilet. It was a woman holding her. She had
grasped her by the neck and closed off her windpipe. So she was choking. I was
trying to figure out, how was I supposed to fix this? Should I stick my hand
down her throat? She was choking. Her windpipe had been smashed. I was trying
to figure out what to do. Then I woke up. It was quite disturbing. It was a
woman and I don’t know who it was. It was baffling: Why would you have your
hands around her neck anyway? I was puzzled and then I was panicked because I
could feel the seconds going by that she was not breathing. She was dying. The
person doing it didn’t care. I was in a panic. - - - -
Besides this disturbing dream, I was thinking a
lot about being attractive. I spent most of my life turning away attractions.
My husband had felt it a kind of a curse that he had an attractive wife. The
other thought was fear of losing my attractiveness because I put this weight
on. What would it be like if I didn’t stop attractions, attractions from the outside?
C4
I was thinking about the source. This story
came up in my mind: There was a very attractive young woman in Goa. So young
men going to Goa would find her an easy target. She would welcome it, they
would go to bed with her and in the next morning she had disappeared and all
they would find of her was the words on the glass, on the mirror: Welcome to
the world of AIDS. She obviously has got the AIDS from someone, now she is
giving it to someone else. What came up for me was this whole deception thing
of sexuality, beauty and seduction but in a destructive way. Everyone is
exploiting just one another. Orchids are a wild beauty. The message one could
get could almost be: Be careful and cautious of physical beauty. I think the
flower tells us, there is no need to reject. In fact it is the physical beauty
that leads to physical union which in turn leads to higher things, even
spiritual union. So beauty has a place. Last night we heard this song of Eric
Clapton “Tears in Heaven” and it made us feel vulnerable, even cry a little. It
was about softening of the self. I think it is all about feeling vulnerable.
Then I visualized men and women together, having something like a new dawn.
Darkness to light, lust to trust.
To be with children and to be with pets can
soften us and help us to deal with this harsh reality of the world. In
respecting the innocence of children and pets, hopefully this damage, which we
have been responsible for in some way, could be repaired.
The orchid also showed me how colour and spice
can play an important part in our lives. Colour is the spice of life. When our
food is bland, then we are missing of something. The male and female energy in
most of the flowers is present in one. It is important to develop both energies
in ourselves.
I also noticed that a lot of us swayed when
doing the trituration. I felt it was part of the
magic of the source. It was so nice rather than to be rigid. Aromas came up.
Aromas are so essential for life.
I had a lot of impressions of white flowing
silk curtains blowing in the breeze. I felt the light of meditation coming
through the ego and lower human desire. I felt crisp mountain air filling my
lungs. I felt like standing on this white precipice and it was somewhat
precarious. There were white birds and an ice kingdom of clarity. Pain cannot
reach here. As soon as I had that thought, there was this bright drop of blood
that stood in contrast to this whiteness. And it stained it a little, the
whiteness allowed it.
Then there was a darker feeling of the sins of
the fathers, wanting their daughters to be virgins, cannot fathom their
womanhood without fear of their own lust. Then this whiteness and this
alabaster bone and thrusting against it. A whale bone exposed on the shore. And
this whiteness deceiving that purity would be sustainable while in human form.
This purity is unreasonable, unattainable. Water beyond frozen. Coldness that
stops time. Then there was this feeling of angelic, sexless purity. These
angels area around and above us with no regard for us except their own
contract. If we ask them, they are bound to help us. Powerful to execute when
asked but above the stink of human flesh. And then there was this feeling of
purity in the form of a human soul lowering itself without becoming
earth-bound. To me this was the feeling of the Buddha to ascend beyond
suffering, beyond human existence because it can’t be had with ordinary human
existence. Have to cross the precipice to the earthly realm of suffering, birth
and death. Opium-like whiteness, undefinable,
unassailable. It feels resolved but not joyful. There is still this feeling of
a kind of hopelessness.
Slow awakening, radiance, well rested. The glow
of pregnancy and new life.
“I bring you joy, if only you would plumb my
depths and see beyond idolatry. I am as vulnerable to you as the egg in the
womb looking for a place to be nurtured and loved. To know that I am loved in
the darkest and most secretive places of longing – this is the child of joy. I
give this to you. I will be censored no longer. I have my voice, my joy. I can
speak, sing, dance, drum my longing and desire. Come be with me – let us create
together. Make a joyful noise unto the Lord …. The Universe sings her song – we
need only listen and care for the longings to be one with all that is, the dark
and the light.” Listening and swaying, I have no longer vertigo, but I am
gently swaying. It is enough to grind. There is in that, its own kind of joy. I
am glad that I am a girl, a woman. (That brings tears of joy to me, apparently
because I longed to hear my father say that to me). Soft and yet so strong
within the soft edges: like velvet. “Together, you and me my love, better for
knowing each other, for trust.
My hand is always yours to hold at day’s end. I
am your hand maid and your help, you lift me up. Joy in the mundane, pleasure
in the simple. Balance in the bowl: The left hand supports the right, the right
the left. Separately yet together. I am stronger in this world for being soft.
There is only letting go - I will land softly.
The pus is drained, we wait for healing and
repair. Love the discharge, the flow, the blood, the wounds, the sores! I am a
balm for all that leaves the body unwanted and unloved. It is good for women to
love women, to hold hands, to embrace. Listen within and know between lust and
love. I reveal that to all – man or woman. Whether I speak through you or
through another, it is the same. It is all and only love giving voice to itself
in the world.
I will speak, I will sing love, joy and healing
into this world of sorrow and suffering. I create from that which is destroyed.
I cannot be stopped for I am Life itself in Calypso.” And then I have an image:
It is a woman on a high cliff and precipice,
the waves crushing below. She is singing into the gusting winds clear and
beautiful. She is born on wind, released into the ether, her secrets discovered
and all are left in awe … Triads. The end of our visit and the beginning of a
new week. Life overlapping life, overlapping good-byes and hellos, the cycle of
life, birth and death.
I immediately went back to the image of me in
the castle basement, in the cellar. It was not so scary this time, it was what
it was, there was an acceptance there. I walked through a hallway and there was
light shining through a door. So I walked through that light and I was outside
and it was bright. A strong contrast of the dark and the light. As I walked
further, I was by a river side, birch trees and white horses. I was sitting
under the trees, the ground underneath was cool and damp. The senses were
really strong, the smells. I felt this deep earthly energy of being one with
the planet. An image of the earth with that spiraling
light rotating through it. I felt as if I was transported with the sounds, the
inner workings of the planet.
I had images of women in my life who either I
disappointed or they disappointed me. There was that overwhelming understanding
of disappointment being from expectations that we put on each other or
expectations we put on ourselves. I heard a noise downstairs and I had this
image of someone’s ex-husband coming up the stairs and shooting us. But it
didn’t feel violent, the orchid energy being much greater than the energy that
our dead bodies created. It was a strange sensation. I had this overall feeling
that this energy supports us, supports all. When in “Avatar” they stick their
tails into the trees to hear what the ancestors are saying, for me that is what
the trituration does. We are plugging in into the
source. That is the wisdom of the trituration, that is
how we access the energy. “We are the world, we are the children” was in my
head. Then I had an image of the energy of the orchid with its open mouth, it
was spiraling around in this empty space and the
energy was coming out of it into my face. It was like spitting at me. It is not
like in the Avatar, it is not the tail that connects it. The orchid energy
connects to our throat, through our mouth. And then this duality thing, it is a
beautiful image, it is pretty but in all pretty there is the mouth and this
duality.
Then I had another image from the “Avatar”
movie about the bed of flowers, when the avatar was dying and how they
connected him to the source again and it gave life and it restored life. Then I
remembered this painting I found in the internet of Calypso orchid, staring of
this beautiful goddess. She had snakes coming out of her hair and a cat sitting
on her head very proud and it was this exchange of energy between the two of
them that felt very powerful. And I felt complete in this connection, in this
oneness.
Tears come to my eyes. I want to sing, to sing
it out loud, the pain, the despair, the intensity of it all. I want to give it
all to that song, to sing it so loud that it touches the heavens, that it
reaches the most distant parts and aspects of my soul, calling them home to me.
There is despair about my own cruelty, about my own suffering, about my
arrogance, the disrespect, about all women I hurt in my life. Yes, I know, I
was a gift for them also. Still, it always seems to include pain.
It is quiet here, I feel calm inside. Strange.
I look around and everything feels okay. Where is the magical attraction, where
is the abuse, the disease, the rot, the stench, the disgust? I feel it all in
my body. These teeth that want to bite in a woman’s flesh, this heart trembling
in innocent desire like the leaves of an aspen tree in a gentle breeze, the rot
and stench in my bowels, this ice cold monster of my analytical mind, my
fascination for the sharpest knife, the cleanest cut. The first incision in the
virgin skin of a black woman, the yellow fat opening, the blood coming out – a
flash back in my times as a surgeon. Black, yellow and red, life in unsurpassed
intensity. I feel my passion for life, my insatiable hunger, the lust, the
desire to touch it all, to feel it all, to experience it all, to breathe in the
colours, the intensity, the power of the song, almost violent. I am intoxicated
from life and it is here that I find my freedom, the freedom of a dancer in
ecstasy, losing myself in the spiral. It is not spiraling
down anymore but not spiraling up either. It is as if
I am spiraling upwards but taking the whole world
with me, all of the world that I was able to experience, to live through, to
breathe in, all the colours I touched, all the songs that I sang. But strange –
no matter how painful they used to be, now they are all in harmony, all of them
sounding at the same time. If I would not have bled, if I would not have
rotted, then I would not be able to sing this song, to hear this harmony, to
dance this dance now. The ugliest and the most beautiful become one. In C1 the
pastel colours were luring, I felt the attraction as I was outside. Now I am in
the midst of an orchestra, of a symphony of colours, harmonies, smells and
movements. It is me. I am it all. It is my greatest joy.
I have forgotten about myself now. The
Calypso’s enticing promise, here it is true. What started out as an
intoxication, turned into bliss. We went through rot and decay, through rape
and abuse, we went through hell, in order to find …., to find what? Heaven? No,
it is not heaven, it is heaven and hell, it is completion, perfection, it is it
all. It is me. I found myself. This truly is heaven. But not somewhere up
there, it is in and out, inside and outside of myself. There is no limit, no
boundary anymore. It is all, and it is all beauty. I dance in ecstatic
sensuality, whirling, spiraling around myself. I do
not need someone to seduce me, nor do I need to abuse someone to get a kick.
This here is the spiraling vortex of myself, nobody
else needed. Yet one specific other is, not needed but oh so welcome. Not
because I need her but because it is even higher bliss to have two whirlwinds
of perfection dancing in and out of each other, potentiating the joy.
Words leave me here. I only can be it, breathe
it. This is a realm of boundless intimacy where words do not reach, that words
cannot express. This remedy is perfect. It holds the utmost pain and the
highest bliss. It is complete and it is sacred.
Notes around the trituration:
There was a lot of talk and desire for ice
cream.
One of the men had epistaxis.
This is fairly common in men during a trituration of
substances that can cause menorrhagia in women. The
three female participants did not show any symptoms referring to this as two of
them were crones (= old woman/= deferring expression!) and one found out during
the trituration that she was pregnant.
Comments to the Calypso Trituration
Usually in a trituration
C1 and C2 hold the deepest suffering, the deepest pathology, this is being
transformed and after the healing has taken place, bliss and joy are being
experienced, mostly on the level of C4 / C5. This is different in drugs: Here
participants experience bliss and joy already in the low vibrational
level of C1, which later turns into pain. Bliss in C1 or C2 is always an
illusion, not a healing experience. In the Calypso trituration
almost all participants expressed their state in C1 and C2 as “drugged,
intoxicated”. So there is an aspect of drug in this energy.
Dog-dream: The dog symbolises loyalty,
protection of home and family, following rules and orders. In the Calypso
energy, this has to go. As one participant put it, the Calypso is a home
wrecker. It deals with sin, seduction, abuse, stepping over boundaries of conventions,
following forbidden desires. These two energies are definitely inimical, so it
is not surprising that the woman in the dream is trying to kill the dog in a
sly, almost hidden way.
Firefly-dream: Fireflies were mentioned several
times independently during the trituration and even
showed up in this dream. There is an energetic affinity. Fireflies have an
aspect of jack-o-lantern, meaning that their light seems to seduce someone in a
wrong direction. Usually they attract mating partners with it. However there
are species in which female fireflies attract males with their light not to
copulate, but to eat them. The unsuspecting suitor ends up as prey. This
definitely correlates with the luring in, trapping and abusing of the orchids.
In both cases there is a deceitful promise of sex.
Something that showed up strongly in the
evening of the first day of the trituration, was the
missing dad. Three friends, two of them part of the trituration,
shared their pain about their dads, which had either left the family, had died
early or were emotionally not available. They listened with tears to the Eric
Clapton songs “My Father’s Eyes” and “Tears in Heaven”. One of the women
mentioned in C4 with tears in her eyes, how much she was longing to hear from
her father, that he was glad to have a daughter. A missing father, a father who
does not support the mother or does not respect mother and daughter, could be
an important aspect for the Calypso pathology to arise. (similar to Theobroma/Chocolate and sometimes Sepia).
In the end we were discussing the miasm of the remedy. Predominantly it seems to be
syphilitic.
Especially in C3 we had experienced the ice
cold, analytical way of thinking which so characteristic of this miasm. If the “new” miasms as
sometimes postulated in modern homeopathy are included into the consideration,
Calypso might also cover the AIDS-miasm.
Traditional Use and Mythology
“Haida girls ate the
raw corms to enhance their bustliness.” (Pojar/MacKinnon: Plants of the Pacific Northwest Coat).
Even in the traditional use of the Native people it was known, that Calypso can
increase a girl’s attractiveness.
Calypso got its Latin and English name from the
lovely nymph Calypso in Greek mythology. She lured Ulysses to forsake his wife
and held him captive on her island for seven years. According to the ancient
stories they had children together. Compare in our trituration
Calypso saying: “Stay with me now! Remove your rings!” (Participant F3 in C1).
The most astonishing fact is that most of what
we experienced energetically during the trituration
is a clear mirror of the biology of this wonderful orchid. Many orchids portray
with their flowers in shape, colour, texture and scent, female insects. In that
way they attract males of a specific insect species who try to mate with them,
which of course does not work, at least not for the poor insect. However when
flying away frustrated, they carry some of the pollen of the orchid. And if by
any chance the lovesick critter gets tricked by another orchid and follows its
promise of sex, then the pollination takes place. In other flowers there is
usually an exchange; mostly the insect is rewarded for its service with nectar
or they eat some of the pollen. In orchids the insects do not get anything,
they usually go empty. Some wonderful examples of this you can view on
you-tube, for example “The Wild Orchids of Israel: Seduction of the Long-Horned
Bee” from Telecine by CinePost
or “Wild Orchid Wasp Mimic” by David Attenborough, BBC. These video clips do
not show specifically Calypso, but other species of orchids. However they are
very worthwhile watching, and you definitely will get the gist of what is going
on. Calypso specifically is being pollinated by bumblebee queens. Newly emerged
bumblebee queens mistake the orchid for a mating partner, however they quickly
learn to avoid them. Calypso bulbosa is the only
species of the genus Calypso. It is distributed circumpolar and grows in the
Northern countries all over N-America, Europe and Asia. Like many other
orchids, it is dependent not only on specific insects for pollination but also
on certain fungi in the soil. The fungus receives carbohydrates from the plant
and the plant water and minerals from the fungus. This is crucial during
germination. The seeds of orchids do not have any nutritive tissue to feed the
germinating seedling. They depend completely on the presence of fungi to
provide them with carbohydrates during that critical time. (In the NATIONAL
GEOGRAPHIC from September 2009 there is an interesting article focusing on the
reproductive strategies of orchids, in which you can read about the most
amazing ways orchids use to get pollinated.)
Themes
When we as humans go through experiences of being
deceived, seduced, abused, then we inevitably suffer. More so when a woman has
to undergo abortion, curettage. In extremis we are talking about sexual child
abuse, incest, rape. Consequences of unlucky sexual relationships might be all
kinds of venereal diseases. All these themes showed up during the trituration.
When we experienced a lack of nurturing (orchid
seeds have no energy, no nutrients for the seedling), then we stay needy, we
have nothing to give later on. Relationships are being experienced as mutual
feeding off each other, mother-child-relationships even as a kind of parasitism
(fungi and orchid are feeding off each other). Orchids are living these themes
in perfect peace and innocence. This is why they can give us peace with our own
traumatic life experiences. Once we have peace with it, once we can forgive
ourselves and our partners in this game, our wounds can heal.
May the spirit of the orchid and the remedy
Calypso bring peace to many wounded souls.
Vorwort/Suchen. Zeichen/Abkürzungen. Impressum.