This story was inspired by the ecstatic dance experience at the Awakening the Psyche
retreat by Risha Buket on June, 2023.
Cemre Nur Öztürk
We arrived at the farm after a two and a half hour trip from the center of Vienna. I had never been to the Alps before. The permaculture farm, where we were staying, was perched atop a small mountain.
We drove through spruce and pine woods on the way. The sunlight occasionally found a way through the trees and met my eyes. In one of the meadows on the side of our road, deer were feeding with white spots on their light brown skin, their huge ears reaching out to the left and right, and their touching wet eyes.
I had the impression that I was watching myself from the outside as I got out of the car and picked up my suitcase. We, a thirteen people group, were here for the Awakening the Psyche retreat. Two volunteers from the farm greeted us and we hugged. Then Risha, who I met many times online yet in person for the first time. As I hugged her, I built an invisible wall between us.
This retreat, to which we all came with different intentions, was created by Risha. I had been inspired by her and now was questioning if I could really fit together with this woman. Was I on the same level with her to be able to be friends?
It has always been challenging for me to be close with people I find inspiring. I felt as if we couldn't look at each other at the same eye level, as if I was always below them. Yet I was tired of living with this judgemental inner voice. Maybe the retreat would have helped to make that voice more compassionate. That was one of my hopes coming here.
The wooden farm house we stayed in had a peculiar smell. Palo Santo sticks and incense were occasionally smudged indoors. It smelt like freshly cut grass and the wilderness outside.
Our first activity of the evening was ecstatic dance.
We gathered in a circle in the workshop room and began to move our bodies to the music and Risha's directions.
"First, relax your head and shoulders"
The music had a slow beat. We began with a serene melody that featured strings in the foreground. I slowly rotated my head to left and right. I then started to rotate my shoulders.
"Move your waist and hips now"
The music became more energetic at this point when the percussion instruments took center stage. I adjusted my upper body to the beat, rotating my waist in a circle.
"Set yourself free, make any sounds you desire"
Different sounds were coming from the group, and I envied the screams the most. Me..I was ashamed of my voice. I continued to dance silently. Simultaneously, I remembered the sentence I heard from Risha for the first time:
The most healing sound is one's own voice.
I couldn't make loud and strange noises when dancing or exhaling, who was I? How could I raise my voice and shout that I was present, and that I existed? I honoured this shame, I was not ready to scream.
It was time to move our joints as much as possible. Risha called out:
"How can you look more ridiculous, try to reach the maximum."
My eyes were closed and I was free. Here I gave up the leadership of my mind and lost myself. I assumed that no one would see me. To the rhythm of the music, I simultaneously shook my wrists, elbows, neck, waist, hips and knees to the left and right.
"Jump with your feet on the ground, let's get rooted."
While we were getting rooted, the music had reached its most upbeat rhythm. All of the instruments could be noticed, with the drum being the loudest. By pounding the earth, I was reaffirming my existence in this world. Here I am. I am here.
"If you are ready, you can now walk around the room and make eye contact with others. If
you don't want to do that, you can remain where you are."
Everyone started moving around the room. We could have changed places. I didn't have the courage to open my eyes. I wanted neither to know how I looked, nor I wanted to imagine how others saw me by seeing them.
As we walked around the room, the rhythm of the music became more monotonous and techno-like.
"Now it's time to slow down."
I was accustomed to this rhythm from the techno clubs in Berlin. My entire body was swaying like a leaf in the wind.
The music slowed down even more. It turned into a classical music that gives you peace.
Risha continued:
"Now imagine yourself as an animal and make the sound that this animal makes."
I immediately thought of a rat. I was surprised and saddened. I would not want to imagine myself as a rat.
And what kind of sound made this rat? It was as if it did not make any sound. A rat would
hardly make any noise; at most, it would be recognised by the sound of it moving. Voices were rising from the group. Some were shrieking like a bird in the Amazonian jungle, some were hissing like snakes, and some were shouting like a powerful animal.
"What does this animal look like? What does it eat, where does it live?"
The rat I transformed into was a creature that people glanced at with disgust in the subway
corners. Nobody wanted to come near it. It was small, some of its brown fur had fallen out.
It was more frequently seen while there were no other persons on the station tracks than during the day. Finding food was also a problem. It was not regularly fed, there was no one to protect it. Was I this rat? It was true that I felt as vulnerable and fighting for my life as it did.
"How does that animal feel?"
Like me. Unloved, unwanted, avoided.
Now I had a lover with whom I felt safe and friends in whom I could confide. My sister, seven years younger than me, and I had reconciled years ago and started to understand each other.
I had accepted my mother with her wounded soul that had become an unmatching patchwork while trying to overcome the difficult experiences she endured. I was trying to love her knowing that I can come across one of the many dead-ends on the streets of her soul.
The feeling that I lack love and protection did not reflect the reality of my today.
The music changed in a very touching way. My ears picked up a warm and sad piano tone.
For the last time Risha called out:
"Look into the eyes of that animal, see it and see yourself in it."
"I love you" was playing on the piano and the singer was humming along, while I saw myself
in the eyes of this mouse. It sounded like a lullaby. I liked the timing. I needed to tell this
myself just as much as someone who had been thirsty for days and finally met with a
fountain. It was a sentence that soothed the thirst in my soul. I love you Cemre. I accept
you, your family and your past as it is. It was not possible to accept yet, but it was possible
to establish this intention.
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