Journeys of a Pregnant Virgin

Two weeks ago I had just arrived in Switzerland. I can't decide if it feels longer that I've been here, or if it seems just a few days ago that I was packing my bags in Vancouver. Maybe both. Time has a funny way of both condensing and expanding in a new environment and schedule. It certainly feels like too long since I've felt Steve's arms around me and his body in my arms. Yes, I do miss hugging the bodies I love. A little skin-hungry, although I received a sweet enthusiastic hug when a lovely young(er) Danish woman - but then they all seem younger these days - and I realized we are both "graduates" of Marion Woodman's Leadership Training program. Her face lit up and we spontaneously threw our arms around each other. "I feel like I just discovered a soul sister," I said. "You sure did," she laughed.

Yesterday I went to the original Institute in Kusnacht to hear a lecture on creativity and then sat by the lake with Virginia and Ingrid and discussed our lectures and seminars to date. We laughed about everything and nothing. The sun was warm and I enjoyed our serious and silly discussion and the whole range of topics we touched on. Later we met for a wonderful documentary titled "Rhythm Is It," about a collaboration between Simon Rattle and the Berlin Philharmonic and an English choreographer, Royston Maldoom, wherein 250 Berlin school kids and young people without previous dance experience put together a remarkable production of Stravinsky's "The Rites of Spring." But as fantastic as the production turns out to be, the deeper story involves some of the young people, mostly from under-privileged homes, for whom the experience is profound and transformative. The German film brochure describes the film as "a declaration of love for the dancing teenagers and their mentors, a film about the fascination of music, a film full of passion, respect, and joy of life." I would agree, but it is also gritty, and there is plenty of alienation, dejection, and hardship evident. The film is anything but sentimental - all the more wonder that the the passion and joy come through in such an authentic way.

There is more to say but the churchbells have just struck 10 pm and I am tired. Perhaps I'll write again soon.

As ambivalent as I profess to be about this process, several enthusiastic emails from friends have drawn me back to the blog page. What a clumsy name - perhaps I'll refer to this as my update from Zurich instead.

Steve tells me Vancouver is still bathed in clear golden sunlight and here there are grey skies and showers. I'm ready for some more sunshine - we've really just had a day or two so far. It hasn't stopped me from wandering and exploring but that's surely much more fun without an umbrella impeding my view of the Alps. I compared annual rainfall in Vancouver and Zurich this morning (in a rare burst of energy for what the Internet provides) and discovered that while Vancouver's is just short of 44 inches a year, Zurich gets 42.5. I hope the next few months are dry ones here! It was hard enough to leave Vancouver during my favourite time of year but for a sun-bunny like me, this feels like I'm being cheated!

Today was a quiet introspective day. No lectures or seminars but I met with the Director of Studies, a warm and charming Swiss woman, fluent in five languages, who welcomed me with sincerity and expressed great interest in the work I've done with Marion Woodman over the past four or five years. I asked all my questions and left feeling the new training program is wide open with possibility and potential. Of course the semester is young and everything remains to be seen and experienced but I do feel good about it thus far.

Yesterday, Virginia from Calgary, Ingrid from Oslo, and I went to a tiny cinema, "Arthouse Commercio," to see "Touch the Sound," a fascinating film about Evelyn Glennie, the deaf Scottish percussionist. I loved her clear and radiant presence and her joyful celebration of what I would call synesthesia, although she would probably just say that her entire body hears the music, rather than "just" her ears. What really struck me was her reference to the human body as resonator - an integral part of the BodySoul Rhythms work with Marion. I can hear how much more resonance there is in my own singing voice (not that I use it much) and I feel my body much more finely tuned than before I began that work. Afterward Virginia and I jumped on the train to Einsiedeln and, at long last, I saw the famous and much-loved Black Madonna. She is exquisite, to be sure, but I want to go back when there are fewer people. We arrived just in time for the Vespers service. The monks' music was beautiful but what moved me most was their procession to the back of the church and obvious reverence for Black Mary, as they took their places and sang to her. I was even able to join in when the congregation sang two of my favourite hymns (in German, of course).

The remainder of this week will be busy with lectures and seminars, right through the weekend. The schedule is erratic and some weeks are very light while others are packed full. I know the days and weeks will fly by and in less than a month, Steve will be here, then Ursula, as we prepare for the BodySoul Writing course in France.

To finish up tonight, here is a quote from "Divine Beauty" - almost every page in the book is quotable - in keeping with his theme (with thanks to Yvonne, whose blog is chock full of wonderful quotes and poems).

"We have often heard that beauty is in the eye of the beholder. This is usually taken to mean that the sense of beauty is utterly subjective; there is no accounting for taste because each person's taste is different. The statement has another, more subtle meaning: if our style of looking becomes beautiful, then beauty wil become visible and shine forth for us. We will be surprised to discover beauty in unexpected places where the ungraceful eye would never linger. The graced eye can glimpse beauty anywhere, for beauty does not reserve itself for special elite moments or instances; it does not wait for perfection but is present already secretly in everything. When we beautify our gaze, the grace of hidden beauty becomes our joy and sanctuary." (p. 29)

I do love books that embody what they celebrate. This is a tender and graceful book.

Saturday, April 23, 2005.

I have been "entertaining" the possibility of writing a few lines here for some days now, and have decided to take the leap. This does not feel like an organic way to stay in touch with friends at home but having enlisted Yvonne's and Shirley's help in setting it up, and having promised quite a few people that "of course I will stay in touch," I will give it a try!

I have been in Switzerland for over a week now, and in Zurich since Monday. So much has happened - both outer and inner - that I don't quite know where to begin, but let it be with my arrival in Erlenbach (half an hour cab ride south of Zurich) last Friday at 3 pm - only to discover that I did not have a place to live. It turns out that the dear elderly woman who'd promised me a room was diagnosed with Alzheimer's a year ago and had lost track of the fact that the room was already in use. (There is more to the story but I don't feel like rehashing it right now.) Strangely I did not panic (maybe I was just too jet-lagged) and within fifteen minutes I'd called the Jung Institute in Zurich and told my sad story to one of the Administrators who immediately gave me the name and telephone number of her friend who had a room for rent less than ten minutes from the Institute. The next morning as I prepared to head into Zurich to see the room and attend our "Opening Semester Party" I received a call from my previous landlady's son-in-law offering me another (nicer) room in the house. Actually, since the elderly couple are being moved into an old folk's home as I write this, I would have had essentially the use of the whole house, including a gorgeous garden overlooking the Zurichsee, and a Steinway grand piano in the living room. Suddenly I had not one but two good prospects.

Well, here I am in Zurich. The room turned out to be a studio apartment which is what I'd always dreamed of having but thought I'd never be able to afford, and the landlady, while a little pixilated (sp?), is generous and eccentric and seems happy to have me here, having asked me several times already whether I'll be back in October. We went on a long walk this afternoon (I opted out of 6 straight hours of German lectures!) and tomorrow she leaves for Bali for two weeks. I can't get over my good fortune in getting what I'd dreamed of through such a strange, dare I say synchronistic, turn of events! From my large windows I see much of Zurich below me and the birds and church bells compete for my attention as I write.

I "took to" Zurich immediately in a way I never did to London or New York. It is a beautiful, gracious, civilized city, and about a month behind Vancouver in terms of Spring blooming, so I'm enjoying the blossoms for the second time around. I already feel comfortable here, as if I've been here several months rather than less than a week. As in Vancouver, I have everything I need within a 10-15 minute walk: the Institute, a large grocery store, a bank, post office, etc.

The opening party at the International School for Analytical Psychology (ISAP) was wonderful and not what I expected. We drank wine and chatted, ate, and then a Brazilian musician got us all drumming and dancing, training analysts and students alike, and I knew I'd come to the right place! I'm just sorry that I was exhausted and had to leave before the serious dancers got going!

Meanwhile, the lectures and seminars have begun and I am stimulated and inspired. There is a warmth and humanity to the place that I really appreciate and a sense of starting something new after all the anguish of the split from the Institute in Kusnacht. (Last night I dreamed that the two Institutes would offer about twenty lectures and seminars jointly soon - I'm not too sure what that means!) Last Sunday when I was still in Erlenbach I took a walk into Kusnacht and, I must say, there is something magical about the original C. G. Jung Institute, with its gorgeous setting and rose garden and the energy of so much of the Jungian world in and around it. But the psychic energy now is poisonous and I cannot be part of that. Everything I have heard since my arrival affirms that I made the right decision in coming to the new group instead.

One of my greatest delights in my little apartment is being able to listen to all of the music I uploaded onto my trusty little Mac I-Book (thank you, Yvonne, Brendan, Shirley!) with the help of superb speakers I bought just the day before I left. The sound quality is great and I have Bach and Mozart for company at breakfast, and a wide variety of other music the rest of the day. Email has not worked out so well - I have to do it over Shaw Webmail and that's slow and clumsy - or is it just me?

On my wander back from the Bahnhofstrasse - supposedly the most expensive shopping street in the world - I stopped into an English language bookstore and bought a lovely book called DIVINE BEAUTY: The Invisible Embrace, by John O'Donahue, which I am sure to quote here soon - it is a profound celebration and meditation on the importance of beauty in the world, a beloved theme of mine as well.

Enough for now. I still feel a little awkward - is this a letter? a journal entry? Am I pretending to write for myself, knowing you (who?) will be reading this? For now it is an experiment and I'll see how I feel about it tomorrow, next week, etc.

The Pregnant Virgin has arrived in Zurich and the pregnancy continues!