Coming Home 🏠

My own little Odyssey

Some weeks stay with you forever.

You know the ones - where something shifts deep inside, in a good way. And you sense that the way you meet the world will be different from here on.

I’ve just had one of those weeks.

It was spent with a remarkable, joyous, magical group at Indaba in Marylebone, during the second immersive of a somatic integrated breathwork facilitator training led by Rebecca Dennis and Philip Parker.

I joined back in September, drawn in by a long held admiration for Rebecca’s work…but not fully understanding the depth of what I was stepping into. It was way more wonderful than I could have imagined. And seven months later, I can say it’s been profound.

This work has taken me - us - to dark places but as Jung reminds us, we don’t become whole by imagining light; we become whole by making the darkness visible.

Looking back at photos from the first immersion in November and now…I see a difference. I look lighter. Something has been integrated. Something has been left behind.

My training began in drama - in the performance of self, in reaching truth in service of a script. And that’s a pretty wonderful world to inhabit. But I realise that in the performer is a tension, a mask, sometimes armour. I know how to brace against the world and make it look like confidence.

To my delight this work goes deeper. It invites us to be present to the old wounds, stories, armour and to notice them, integrate them.

The ancient Greeks had a word: prapidesin - the place beneath crowded thoughts. I’m realising how much of my life I’ve lived in those crowded thoughts. And how different it feels to touch something quieter, stiller, truer underneath.

It’s felt like magic, but it wasn’t all wizardry, there was a carefully kindly designed structure to keep us safe even as we were in stretch. Rebecca, Philip and a star team of facilitators/master teachers and coaches have held the programme with a perfect balance of rigour and love. We’ve been guided to meet the light and the dark with firmness and compassion. There’s something powerful about that combination: firm structure alongside deep gentleness. It allows both discipline and surrender. And in that space, something real can shift.

I’m feeling deeply grateful, pretty humbled by the process and curious for what comes next.

I’ve been thinking of C.P. Cavafy’s Ithaka , perhaps partly as I prepare to head to Athens next week for a keynote. My own little Odyssey - the long journey home with all its detours, darkness, trials, the disguises, getting lost, finding the way. What we become along the way matters more than the destination.

I’m coming home.

Have a great week

Caroline x