OYM Day 81: Inner Dunce Workshop — Pt 3
We gathered in a small circle in the center of the room. Everyone looked tired and in need of aspirin. Mina knelt down at the top of the circle, making room for herself next to me, holding some sort of feathery object in her hands.
“This was a quiet workshop. At many of my other workshops, people scream and cry, or punch the air, even run in place, in a sort of trance.”
Had we let Mina down? I couldn’t even dance inwardly the right way. I guess my desperate search for a spiritual practice would continue.
She held out a bundle of twigs, wrapped in colorful strings, with feathers and beads dangling off one end. The women looked at it, letting out a subtle “Ooo.” I wondered how cheap these were to make and how much I could sell them for.
“In any case, every group is different, and I am still very interested in hearing about what you experienced. I’ll pass around this speaking stick. Please only speak when holding the stick. Pass it to your neighbor when you’re finished.”
Because God hates me, Mina handed the speaking stick to the person on the other side of her, meaning I would sit and squirm and figure out what to say, trying my best to throw in some humor with a touch of something interesting, and get more and more anxious waiting for the stick to land in my hands.
The first woman said she felt a lot of pressure on her chest, like someone was sitting on her. She said her arms and legs were tingling. I scanned her quickly for any other signs of a heart attack. Then I realized I have no idea what the signs of a heart attack were, outside of clutching your chest and your arm going numb. I shrugged my shoulders and wished her the best on her drive home after the workshop.
She passed the stick.
“I don’t know. I didn’t like it, I can say that. I couldn’t seem to focus on the things I wanted to work through, which made me frustrated. I’ve been going through a rough breakup and trying to get some closure, but all I could think about were trains. But it was interesting.”
“Crazy Train” cranked to 11 will do that to you.
I looked at Mina for a reaction, but instead she just sat there with a big toothy smile on her face, her eyes glassy and large, unblinking.
She passed the stick.
“I had a very intense experience. My mind was racing with colors and images. I saw people in my life that I haven’t seen in ages. I was dancing with my second cousin, Belinda, who was paralyzed in a horse riding accident. Kicked her right in the spine! Then I was holding my cat as he was passing away, right in my arms. It was so vivid. I could feel his fur against my face. I fear my cat may be dead when I go home.”
As she spoke she made cat gestures, holding up her hands like little paws, rubbing her blanket against her face like soft cat fur.
All I could think was what?!
I had so many follow up questions, but before I could ask if the cat was dying from natural causes or suicide…
she passed the stick. I was thankful I didn’t have to follow such a riveting story.
The next woman in line to share was a woman in her mid 40s, wearing an off-white linen ensemble, her hair dyed a stark, translucent white, her skin pale and doughy. When she spoke, the deep purple stone earrings in her ears shook back and forth, like tiny, tiny puppy tails. There was no curvature from her chin to her neck. It looked more like a necklace made of her own skin.
“I wish what I had experienced was real. Maybe it was, in another plain of time. I was fighting with my sister in law. We were like animals, clawing and releasing these deep guttural sounds. Needless to say, I killed her. I drowned her.” She laughed hysterically.
She passed the stick.
I felt the weight of the stick in my hands, but couldn’t take my eyes off this woman. It hit me that she looked just like Ursula from “The Little Mermaid.”
I held the stick up my face and tapped it with 2 fingers.
“Is this thing on?”
Nobody laughed.
