Calypso
bulbosa o. borealis o. americana = Calypso Orchid/= Cypripedium bulbosum
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 foetus 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 corns 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