My infatuation with form began when I was a child and still is a constant wonder and focus in my work as a CranioSacral Therapy practitioner.
My parents owned a small Chinese antique store in Washington, D.C. A tiny repair room crammed full of damaged objects was in the back of the store. Stuff was everywhere: broken statuary made of porcelain, wood or bronze; stained or ripped paintings; tattered silk robes; fragments of jade; pieces of carved ivory, and dented cloisonné vessels. The floor was taken up with pieces of teak furniture and two huge ceramic foo-dogs so large they loomed over me.
I spent hours with these things. Their shape, color, and texture carried me into a realm of wondering. When I held the woman carved of ivory, I wondered about her, not in a specific way like who carved her or what happened to her. I wasn’t trying to create anything, I’d just wonder and wait… accepting anything that arose in my mind’s eye.
Before I knew it her missing hand would spring forth with its delicately pointing finger, or her smooth face would glisten suddenly, as if illuminated by the moon, pastel colors of pale green and poppy yellow emerging upon her gown. I’d pay close attention and hear stories murmered by water flowing over creek stones. At times her voice whispered sounds that I didn’t understand, yet somehow I felt better, as though wrapped in a warm blanket.
Eventually I became an artist making imagined things into objects drawn and sculpted. Yet something was lacking. I didn’t understand what it was until I began to learn and use CranioSacral Therapy. Then I realized what was missing, it was life’s motion.
Movement characterizes life. While practicing CranioSacral Therapy I am awe struck when feeling the life force within each cell which can be expressed as blood coursing within our vessels, oxygen filling our lungs, nerves conveying information, or particles entering and leaving our cells. This majestic motion is the way form makes itself known to me.
So when I work with clients, a state of wonder permeates each second of time. I feel the human being is majestic and our life force unfathomable, yet somehow palpable. I marvel at the depth of motion within each cell and I wonder and wait. As I wait images arise of cells moving freely, fluids energizing and vibrant. Other images may emerge of brain parts twisted, membrane coiled or stuck, nerves stressed, or vessels congested. I may see the entire body crumpled by a snagged string of fascia. A large part of my work is to gently support shapes as they shift and untangle.
I am constantly amazed how form is a gateway into the ordinary, the extraordinary, the glorious and the therapeutic.
