Healing Generational Trauma in MindScape
Printed from http://www.bodytalksystem.com//learn/news/article.cfm?id=1120 on Apr 16, 2024.
Sep 14, 2020
By Dorothy Friesen
MindScape is a method to tap into faculties of our intuition, not easily accessible in our everyday state of mind. Students learn ways of engaging intuition as needed and improving their abilities in whatever career, relationship, walk of life they are in. Practitioners of the BodyTalk System, a consciousness-based energy medicine, use MindScape to deepen the healing possibilities for their clients.
Here's an example of how I used MindScape on behalf of my own physical healing.
For over three weeks, I was aware of a strange pain like a slow motion bullet burrowing into my lower back about two inches to the right of the sacrum. I decided to invite in some part of myself I hadn't yet seen to help me. Who arrived at my imaginary elevator door constructed for just such a purpose, but my grandmother, Aganetha Heinrichs Friesen. I had never met her before, but certainly her DNA is a part of me and she was known to have weak eyes, something we share in common.
As soon as she passes from the elevator into my MindScape workshop, Aganetha collapses into my arms, crying. She is sorry, she says, so sorry. She is wearing a smart wool suit and fox fur wrap in roaring twenties fashion, surprising since she died in 1918 in what was then becoming USSR and is now again called Ukraine.
My father, four years old at the time, remembers what happened. It was night. The dogs barked furiously, there was pounding at the door. Aganetha's husband, my grandfather, was sure they would kill him, this gang of anarchists, former workers on his estate, (history describes the men as revolutionary peasants, whose leader Nestor Mahkno believed in equality and mutual aid). My grandfather escaped through a window. The pregnant Aganetha ordered one of the servants to open the door while she stayed in the nursery with the two children. My father, age 4, struck dumb with fright, watched from his little trundle bed. His brother, Cornelius, age 2, stood screaming in the crib.
The men ordered Aganetha to hand over guns and ammunition. She said there were no guns, but they could have whatever they wanted and held up the ring of keys in her hand. She was shot in the head, but her thick dark hair in a large bun at the nape of her neck softened the bullet entry. A second shot rang out and she fell to the floor, blood pooling around her.
Why is MindScape Aganetha apologizing to me? She's the one who experienced a death of terror in the presence of her children. I hold her as tenderly as I can. I don't know what else to do. After a long while her body stops trembling, but she keeps whispering her sorrow for the burden that has been placed upon me. It seems I am the one who has taken on the task of ending the generational effects of this particular tormented time. I don't know if I got in line for this project or it was randomly assigned. How and by whom? I do have a sense, though, that it was through great effort Aganetha arrived here to express her grandmotherly love and concern. She is exhausted. She falls asleep in my arms and I carry her to the elevator door where she disappears through a column of light.
After Aganetha left, I rocked in my living room chair, staring out at the rain-spattered window, wondering what to make of this visit. Perhaps she was right – the legacy of her murder, the raging, grieving widower and his terrorized progeny, as well as the men who shot her and their progeny – all of that was on my back. Aganetha's son, Cornelius, was murdered the next year, but my father, a refugee to Canada in 1923, lived a long life. On November 1st 1990, he had a lovely lunch with my mother, lay down for his afternoon nap and never woke up. A week after his death, I felt a dizziness in my head and feet that lasted almost a month until one night I had a dream.
I stand on a cliff looking down at my father. He's in a canoe that tips precariously just short of a steep waterfall. (Growing up I had played a dutiful filial role, but with a barely-hidden distaste for the repressive atmosphere.) I watch him struggle now with the canoe paddle. He never had much capability in a boat. I realize without words, as one does in dreams, he's headed for certain annihilation in this water bardo, unless I give permission for him to pass safely.
Still rocking in my heirloom chair, I remembered that when my Dream Self had said, "Let him pass" the water became completely still and my father, like MindScape Aganetha, disappeared into a mistiness. I also became aware that the slow moving bullet near my sacrum was gone, leaving only a trace of tenderness, the residual effect of carrying a hundred years of trauma on my back.
"As you start to walk on the way, the way appears."
– Rumi
After decades of 24/7 work on social, economic, international peace and justice--much of it in support of the Philippines--I found myself with chronic fatigue, emotional trauma, and in deep need of a lifestyle change.
Some years later, a friend in Winnipeg needed cases to prepare for her exam to become a BodyTalk Practitioner. I laid down on her massage table with no particular interest, thinking I was doing her a favor. After only a few sessions, I realized I was more hopeful about life. Why, I asked? She had me hooked at "innate wisdom" and "everything is connected."
In 2002, I took my CBP exam on the same weekend that I attended John Veltheim's Module 3 Consciousness course. Even after years of inspiring and useful specialty courses like PaRama, BodyEcology, Soul's Journey, and Fascial Balancing, I often circle back to the depth and clarity of Consciousness work and its effectiveness within a seemingly simple session or a single Access technique.
In retrospect, what looked like very different life trajectories--external activism versus inner healing--seemed to spiral into coherence over the decades. BodyTalk provided a bridge. After martial law, former Filipino activists I knew, who had been imprisoned and tortured, had to deal with their own trauma while continuing to work for the welfare of impoverished communities around them. They were the ones who invited me back to the Philippines to introduce BodyTalk possibilities. Over the years, I have been inspired by their healing abilities and steadfastness in the work in often trying circumstances. I am truly thankful for the BodyTalk influence on my life and on theirs.
Dorothy has been a highly involved and dedicated member of the BodyTalk Community. She was a Certified BodyTalk Practitioner Member from 2002 to 2018 and a BodyTalk Access Trainer from 2007 to 2018. She is still involved in BodyTalk work now as a Standard Member and part-time practitioner. In 2009, Dorothy introduced BodyTalk and BodyTalk Access to the Philippines. Starting in 2009, she spent 1 to 2 months there almost yearly until 2017. She co-founded the BodyTalk Access Outreach Corps in 2013, a program unique to Philippines, for bringing BodyTalk into communities that deeply need it.
Here's an example of how I used MindScape on behalf of my own physical healing.
For over three weeks, I was aware of a strange pain like a slow motion bullet burrowing into my lower back about two inches to the right of the sacrum. I decided to invite in some part of myself I hadn't yet seen to help me. Who arrived at my imaginary elevator door constructed for just such a purpose, but my grandmother, Aganetha Heinrichs Friesen. I had never met her before, but certainly her DNA is a part of me and she was known to have weak eyes, something we share in common.
As soon as she passes from the elevator into my MindScape workshop, Aganetha collapses into my arms, crying. She is sorry, she says, so sorry. She is wearing a smart wool suit and fox fur wrap in roaring twenties fashion, surprising since she died in 1918 in what was then becoming USSR and is now again called Ukraine.
My father, four years old at the time, remembers what happened. It was night. The dogs barked furiously, there was pounding at the door. Aganetha's husband, my grandfather, was sure they would kill him, this gang of anarchists, former workers on his estate, (history describes the men as revolutionary peasants, whose leader Nestor Mahkno believed in equality and mutual aid). My grandfather escaped through a window. The pregnant Aganetha ordered one of the servants to open the door while she stayed in the nursery with the two children. My father, age 4, struck dumb with fright, watched from his little trundle bed. His brother, Cornelius, age 2, stood screaming in the crib.The men ordered Aganetha to hand over guns and ammunition. She said there were no guns, but they could have whatever they wanted and held up the ring of keys in her hand. She was shot in the head, but her thick dark hair in a large bun at the nape of her neck softened the bullet entry. A second shot rang out and she fell to the floor, blood pooling around her.
Why is MindScape Aganetha apologizing to me? She's the one who experienced a death of terror in the presence of her children. I hold her as tenderly as I can. I don't know what else to do. After a long while her body stops trembling, but she keeps whispering her sorrow for the burden that has been placed upon me. It seems I am the one who has taken on the task of ending the generational effects of this particular tormented time. I don't know if I got in line for this project or it was randomly assigned. How and by whom? I do have a sense, though, that it was through great effort Aganetha arrived here to express her grandmotherly love and concern. She is exhausted. She falls asleep in my arms and I carry her to the elevator door where she disappears through a column of light.
After Aganetha left, I rocked in my living room chair, staring out at the rain-spattered window, wondering what to make of this visit. Perhaps she was right – the legacy of her murder, the raging, grieving widower and his terrorized progeny, as well as the men who shot her and their progeny – all of that was on my back. Aganetha's son, Cornelius, was murdered the next year, but my father, a refugee to Canada in 1923, lived a long life. On November 1st 1990, he had a lovely lunch with my mother, lay down for his afternoon nap and never woke up. A week after his death, I felt a dizziness in my head and feet that lasted almost a month until one night I had a dream.
I stand on a cliff looking down at my father. He's in a canoe that tips precariously just short of a steep waterfall. (Growing up I had played a dutiful filial role, but with a barely-hidden distaste for the repressive atmosphere.) I watch him struggle now with the canoe paddle. He never had much capability in a boat. I realize without words, as one does in dreams, he's headed for certain annihilation in this water bardo, unless I give permission for him to pass safely.
Still rocking in my heirloom chair, I remembered that when my Dream Self had said, "Let him pass" the water became completely still and my father, like MindScape Aganetha, disappeared into a mistiness. I also became aware that the slow moving bullet near my sacrum was gone, leaving only a trace of tenderness, the residual effect of carrying a hundred years of trauma on my back.
"As you start to walk on the way, the way appears."
– Rumi
About Dorothy
After decades of 24/7 work on social, economic, international peace and justice--much of it in support of the Philippines--I found myself with chronic fatigue, emotional trauma, and in deep need of a lifestyle change.Some years later, a friend in Winnipeg needed cases to prepare for her exam to become a BodyTalk Practitioner. I laid down on her massage table with no particular interest, thinking I was doing her a favor. After only a few sessions, I realized I was more hopeful about life. Why, I asked? She had me hooked at "innate wisdom" and "everything is connected."
In 2002, I took my CBP exam on the same weekend that I attended John Veltheim's Module 3 Consciousness course. Even after years of inspiring and useful specialty courses like PaRama, BodyEcology, Soul's Journey, and Fascial Balancing, I often circle back to the depth and clarity of Consciousness work and its effectiveness within a seemingly simple session or a single Access technique.
In retrospect, what looked like very different life trajectories--external activism versus inner healing--seemed to spiral into coherence over the decades. BodyTalk provided a bridge. After martial law, former Filipino activists I knew, who had been imprisoned and tortured, had to deal with their own trauma while continuing to work for the welfare of impoverished communities around them. They were the ones who invited me back to the Philippines to introduce BodyTalk possibilities. Over the years, I have been inspired by their healing abilities and steadfastness in the work in often trying circumstances. I am truly thankful for the BodyTalk influence on my life and on theirs.
Dorothy has been a highly involved and dedicated member of the BodyTalk Community. She was a Certified BodyTalk Practitioner Member from 2002 to 2018 and a BodyTalk Access Trainer from 2007 to 2018. She is still involved in BodyTalk work now as a Standard Member and part-time practitioner. In 2009, Dorothy introduced BodyTalk and BodyTalk Access to the Philippines. Starting in 2009, she spent 1 to 2 months there almost yearly until 2017. She co-founded the BodyTalk Access Outreach Corps in 2013, a program unique to Philippines, for bringing BodyTalk into communities that deeply need it.
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