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Erfahrungsberichte ...

A way of healing

by Robert Weston
© 2009 My work with Arthur Munyer

 

 

Arthur's premise and the premise of Somatic Experience is that the body knows how to heal itself when given the opportunity . A broken bone can grow back together on its own and a cut in the skin closes again. The same goes for that  Nervous system, the place where trauma is stored. The key is a healing environment, a healing space for the body  and to provide the soul in which the release can take place.

 

But first there has to be a process of discovery that opens the door to healing. With Arthur, that process always began with the  Orientation in the here and now. “Look around the room. Let your eyes go where they want to go. What do you perceive? ”This exercise  brings attention to the present and allows or encourages the mind to let go of what it is obsessed with. One would expect that  the very thoughts and feelings that are where Arthur would look for the trauma. It is where most talk therapies go  begin with, “Tell me how you feel,” or “What's on your mind?” and the result is the story of how awfully married it is  to be how horrible the boss behaves and how problematic the subject of money is or how sad you feel because you are a loved one  or lost a loved one.
 

But Arthur wants me to let go of this superficial unwinding of stories - since they're on the surface, it would end up being more  as obvious if they had anything to contribute to healing. Instead, having the mind and attention in the present  Moment and gave him the opportunity to focus on something that is interesting or pleasant or at least in itself  find non-confrontational or threatening. Arthur would like to know what pleasant and pleasant things I've come across in the last 24 hours.


Due to my depressive state, it was initially not easy to find something while working with Arthur that you could do during the 24 hours  could have been rated as pleasant or pleasant. Sitting with this question was a little confronting, but after a few minutes the silence fell into me  usually something that felt good.


Whatever it was, Arthur pounced on it like a dog playing with a tasty bone. "Nice. Tell me more about it! How did you  felt it? Where in your body did you feel that? Have you felt this way before? When? Tell me more about it. ”Etc. After a few minutes remembering something I found comfortable, I found that I was starting to relax. Arthur's questions and his  Encouragement to dwell on the pleasant things and his playful way of diverting my attention from my worries had a generally calming effect on me, even if I had difficulties at the beginning of my stories and repetitive loops of oh  and let go of pain.
 

At some point, usually a few minutes after the session started, Arthur interrupted what I was saying and pointed out little ones  Movements that I made. "Do that again," he would say. I used to have no conscious awareness of this  special movement. It could be a shrug of my shoulders, a stretching of my neck, a gesture of my hand, or a shake or twist  of my foot. He would repeat the movement for me and then ask me to repeat it. "Slow down," he would say.  "Much slower" until I barely moved. “Close your eyes,” he would say, “and see if anything comes up when you do that  do. Any pictures, thoughts, feelings? Anything. "


Often times I would just sit still and slowly move my arm or leg, repeating the movement he chose.  My mind would begin to wander, seemingly aimlessly, from memories of the past to present situations. To  after a while he would ask again, "does something come up inside you when you do this (the mini-movement)?"  start that came to mind. It could have been something from my first marriage that ended in divorce and that broke me up  had shaken. Or about my current feelings of depression or anxiety about financial security or marital conflict. They were mine  Priority concerns at the time: where, now that I was no longer working, my income would be from and the lack of agreement and  Harmony that I felt in my marriage.


Usually the process followed the same path: whatever I mentioned, the question would be asked, “How does this feel?” Or “Where  do you feel that? ”At first I had difficulty identifying feelings. I only knew extreme forms of negative feelings:  Despair, anger, frustration, fear. I was much less aware of the positives.
 

Arthur kept insisting that many of the things I said, such as B. Confusion, hopelessness, not really feelings but  Depicted sub-categories of feelings. Comparable to the primary colors: fear, anger, sadness, joy and love. Eventually I learned to penetrate the intellectual labels I gave my feelings and to name them that way. Mostly it was fear, anger and sadness. It  seemed to show little activity on the part of positive feelings.


Arthur dismissed most of the medical terms (e.g., depression) as redundant and unhelpful. I tended to agree with him on that  and noted how a diagnosis of the state of mind keeps one trapped in a person in a certain state, even if it is for  Insurance purposes might be helpful. Arthur was more for going forward and feeling the feelings without tagging them. These  Emotional states, especially the negative ones, seemed to indicate the presence of trauma - like the click of a Geiger counter  Radioactivity.


When we entered such an area that was charged, the main thing in the process was to loosen and close the place of trauma  decompress. After an unconscious body movement had led him there, he would just be with it and let something come up  always wanted to come up. Sometimes these were intense feelings that led to tears, screams, or laughter. That part of the process was that  Discharge. It was usually very subtle with no cataclysmic events or extreme emotional outbursts. Usually the discharge was like that  subtle that at the beginning I didn't even perceive them as such. At first I thought it was the room temperature that had changed. I was  not clear that my body was releasing stored, condensed energy.


The concept of the release and movement of energy is fundamental to the Munyer Method. Stress of any kind is a result of blocked  Energy. The blockage can manifest itself physically, in the form of cramped or tense muscle fibers. It can be mental in nature and it can be the form of  Accept thought or belief patterns. It can also be the obsession with a particular person or event that is occurring  expresses it in the form of certain emotional states and is consciously or unconsciously connected to this person or this event. the  Munyer's method aims to loosen such fixed points and release the bound energy, resulting in more flexibility, strength and freedom  brings to live in the present moment (joy or love).


My work with Arthur has brought me to all of these places. During my initial symptoms, the stiffness of my neck and shoulders  I discovered that there were many more places of stiffness and tension in my emotions and in my mental and spiritual being.  

My feelings towards my mother are probably a good example of what I'm talking about. One day after a series of association that  related to unconscious body movements - I believe it was lifting my left foot slightly - my mother brought me in  Reminder.


I carried great bitterness towards my mother with me. She appeared to me (she died in 1995) as a controlling, manipulative, self  To be a pitying martyr, someone who is never satisfied, overly critical, unable to enjoy himself or life. As long as  I can guess my feelings towards her were a mixture of guilt and anger: I know I should love my mother, and to some extent  I'm sure I do too, but my initial thoughts and feelings were all negative.


For some reason Arthur asks me about my mother. I start with negative things about how much they consider me and my brother  Put pressure on how nothing was really good enough for her, how she complained about not having friends but not even realizing she was  the one she had always criticized about how she nagged my father all the time. He interrupts me: “I don't want to hear that,” he says.  "Tell me something you liked about your mother."
 

For a moment I'm stuck. I can't think of anything. I have a black out. I take a deep breath, sigh, and close my eyes. I feel myself  hopeless: I can't remember anything positive about my mother? Then I remember a photo of her as a young woman. With full, curly ones  Hair, shimmering skin, dark, romantic eyes. She looked a bit like Ingrid Bergman in Casablanca. I feel mine  Loosen your shoulders a little. I tell Arthur about the picture. “That's nice,” he says. "What else?"


I remember once she accompanied me to a performance of Peter and the Wolf with a group of high school friends. It  was for Spanish classes, so we called it "Pedro y el Lobo". I was the conductor, my mother played the piano. It was great fun:  my friends Terry on French horn, Robert on clarinet, Danny on oboe and Eric disguised as wolf. I start smiling while  I remember it. The main theme comes to mind: Daa daa de dum ta da, de dum ta da da da dum ta da da, daa da da daa, da da daa daa  daa. I mention it. Arthur tells me to hum it. I do. Next I start smiling and warmth fills my chest. There is some joy in my heart.


"Tell me more about your mother," says Arthur. Now I remember what a great cook she was, especially grilled chicken (at least before she started peeling off the skin) and tiny freshwater crabs, lightly breaded and fried. We ate them head, tail and all. and  the fact that she was a genius at dealing with money. And the fact that she bought me new clothes when I went to college. And how she made me  support when I was in the marital crisis. Now I cry with gratitude and love for my mother. What was a black hole of anger and bitterness has now turned into a soft warm,  loving bundles of memories. The field moved, energy began to move, and something that was locked in and blocked had moved  opened.


After a few minutes I open my eyes and orient myself in the room. We go to the bank and Arthur works with my neck, my shoulders  and my arms. He works deeply and gently, finding tense areas and knots that he holds, smooths and squeezes until it becomes one  Release is coming. I let go of things that I didn't even know I was holding onto. We moved from the emotional body to the physical  Body and the transition is completely natural and connected. Some light was brought into the place, some cleansing energy and breath. I feel  lighter, less rigid and softer. My neck is more flexible.


According to Arthur, we were dealing with a build-up of emotional debris during this session, traces of undischarged emotions from the  Past, a past in which my reactions to my mother were not expressed, probably out of guilt or simply fear. Criticizing one's own mother, or even thinking badly of her, was definitely not acceptable to them  a young man who grew up in the south of the country in the 40s and 50s. Back then, mothers knew what was best for you.  The south was ultimately a matriarchy after the civil war initially drafted all adult (or not fully adult) men and  had finally decimated. The women left behind had to look after themselves. When they found that they were just fine with themselves  could take care of, they were understandably reluctant to return the reign to the surviving men. Many of these men were  if they weren't crippled, at least disturbed and shamefully defeated. Although the war ended more than 100 years ago  was, women played the dominant role in the family and, to some extent, in public. Men had the job of earning a living and taking care of public affairs. Women ran the household, including organizing children and finances.


I was the oldest, so it was my job to be perfect. I had to set an example and fit in with all areas, be clean, tidy  be, get good grades and never, never, never do anything that could shame the family. In childhood photos you see me as a well-scrubbed, combed-up, very serious young man who stands next to his mother as if to say "The family is my job too."  Father, a musician, was far too impractical to be of any use other than music and fishing. He had himself  Retired from the stage and left the raising of three boys and all financial matters to my mother.


It can be assumed that I had a lot of anger and resentment in me, given the expectations that lay upon me. Resentment that I didn't too  could sometimes be naughty without being hit with the rod. By the way, I had to fetch the rod myself from the cherry tree in the garden. I am  I'm sure my mother meant well. She really had a big job to accomplish, after all: cultivating three unruly boys. There was  in no abuse in the conventional sense. No alcoholism or other obvious addictions or trauma. Just a subtle and sometimes  not quite so subtle atmosphere of expectation. The pressure to be good, if not perfect, and meet all expectations of manhood:  good grades, athletic performance, musical ability (in my case), socially adapted and, to top it off, being “a good Christian” (in  my case, a Protestant). And above all of this was the self-image that boys don't cry, boys don't feel pain, boys don't play with dolls. In short, there was an expectation that no authentic person could ever meet, but that my mother does  felt obliged to press into it.


All of this was made worse by the fact that my little brother, who was 3 years younger, was a complete failure at everything. It was assumed he was  retarded or schizophrenic or worse, a pervert. His deviation made my functioning all the more important. It was up to me that  Doing things right, upholding family honor.  

This systematic oppression took its toll on a free-spirited, intelligent, sensitive boy. He started to believe that he was in everything  was to blame. Maybe he was responsible for his brother's shortcomings, maybe he was responsible for the financial bottleneck at home  ruled, maybe he was responsible for his mother's loneliness. The remnants of these feelings were a negative emotional charge that grew  directed at my mother, even if it was NEVER spoken directly. I am sure that she felt my rejection and impatience  but she probably never knew she was related to her. I probably wasn't aware of it either. The inner conflict between my hostility and my anger and what one "was allowed" to express and show became in my body and my mind  locked up. There were no warm nourishing images or feelings for my mother around me. There was only anger and rejection that colored everything and  overshadowed. Arthur helped me change that and bring what was in the background to the fore so that the positive ones  Things that I had blocked out in order to lessen the inner conflict could come back. In my case, I had resolved the conflict in which I was  my mother completely "painted in black". Her positive qualities, her beauty, her musicality, her frugality, her sense of humor were of  had been pushed aside from my selective memory and left me with a very one-sided account of my mother. Arthur's support helped me get to know an alternate portrayal of my mother, one in which I could have positive feelings about her. By  led me into positive images and memories, it helped me release some of the emotional debris that had settled over the memory of my mother. Now I can see her as a complete person, flawed, but beautiful, brilliant in her way, brilliant, resourceful,  adaptable, dedicated and ready to sacrifice anything for her family. I could feel sadness for her loneliness and bitterness. I could do all of them  regret wasted opportunities in which we could have shared love and joy, but I was also able to celebrate the life she had lived,  as well as all the occasions where we've actually laughed together, fought with each other, or because of a potential or  actual family disaster cried together. 

 

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