Lifting Up

Dedicated to the Wandering Pastor

I was lucky to have the visiting Pastor often come to my work. It meant that I would be seen. The pastor included everyone in his healing. He could see that work was strenuous. That all of us needed a hand. His connection he;ped lesson the burden of the past.

Long time ago I said no more. I will not take the physical abuse and neglect and I shut down. But part of me, the deeper part, the moving, sparkling part was hidden. The forgotten armor became a protection, unconscious, buried. Pain buried does not bury the experience of abuse only the anticipation, the anxiety of waiting for the next abuse. Yes one can stifle some forms of abuse, be stoic, but pain needs to be expressed or the holding, the blocking, like sewage will bring disease. When pain comes I better scream. The emoting, the expression to the abuse allows the Orgone to move through the armor.

Two areas that are difficult: listening to myself, and looking in a mirror. Both have been helpful and troubling. My voice can sound held, reserved, and pinched. The mirror of late is where I am focused. I have begun to see the filling up or the collapsing of posture as the visibility of Orgone. Paying attention to where Orgone is lacking has helped me find a aliveness that brings fear and finally pleasure. 

Orgone connection lifts, brings pleasure to the body. Like the Pastor who brought comfort at work with his welcomed handshake; he knew a deeper presence brought shared smiles. As he held your hand for an extended time he would say their will be lifting up, and if needed other inspiring quotes. He would spend some time with everyone. At work little was shared except work.There were no handshakes, or meaningful connections. The Pastor broke through to those stifled, incomplete beings. He reached knowingly to catch a fallen person, to let us all know there was more than what we had. His smile, his being kept us all reaching out and hopeful.