{"id":363,"date":"2024-11-04T11:56:28","date_gmt":"2024-11-04T11:56:28","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/mylisteningheart.org\/?post_type=episode_posts&p=363"},"modified":"2025-01-08T08:40:37","modified_gmt":"2025-01-08T08:40:37","slug":"episode-3-recovery-and-discovery","status":"publish","type":"episode_posts","link":"https:\/\/mylisteningheart.org\/?episode_posts=episode-3-recovery-and-discovery","title":{"rendered":"Episode 3: Recovery and Discovery"},"content":{"rendered":"

Recovery and Discovery\u00a0<\/strong><\/h4>\n

And then….what?<\/p>\n

I would sit at my piano, staring at once familiar sheets of music \u2013 now the notes now\u00a0 all blurred through tears.\u00a0 Another reality check, my eyesight had deteriorated over the years, and I struggled to find the distance where I could focus on the notes.\u00a0 Even without tears, they merged and floated, separated and danced off the page.<\/p>\n

These were painful times, weeks, months… and I can still see the look in Ronald\u2019s eyes as he glanced across at me from his desk.\u00a0 Where was the music? What had this folie<\/em> been about? Really about?\u00a0 Fortunately, he returned only alternate weekends, and I was able to plough these depths in solitude.<\/p>\n

But once again LIFE was taking control of things, and another thread was weaving itself into my life.\u00a0 The tender I had prepared and presented in the Netherlands on behalf of KIT (Royal Tropical Institute) was successful, and over the next two years I frequently went to Slovakia \u2013 to Bratislava with the gift of its little opera house.\u00a0 I replenished my operatic repertoire knowledge and the music of central and Eastern Europe seeped again into my cells.\u00a0 And Ronald and I were able to meet up more frequently.<\/p>\n

But certainly, energy was blocked. The process of trying to avoid having a hysterectomy lasted two long years.\u00a0 I had a series of visits and consultations in Cape Town and Brussels and had explored all alternative avenues.\u00a0 But the fibroids kept growing, reflecting the blockage in my creative second chakra.\u00a0 So clear\u00a0 \u2013 now with hindsight \u2013 how the energy just got stuck, and my body developed a series of physical blocks in response.<\/p>\n

I had returned to Kalk Bay to have the op in early 2003 \u2013\u00a0 to be able to negotiate the removal of my womb in my mother tongue, rather than in French. I prepared very well, as far as one possibly can, for invasive surgery.\u00a0 It was to be a \u2018sub-sub-total\u2019 leaving the ovaries to atrophy at some later stage.\u00a0 I reduced my body weight and selected an astrologically appropriate date.\u00a0 The renovations \u2013 creating a separate roof-space apartment in my Kalk Bay house \u2013 \u00a0were almost complete.\u00a0 This was where I planned to recuperate with generous views of False Bay.\u00a0 I had\u00a0 taken six weeks off from my professional life, and the operation was programmed for a time when my absence from Slovakia would not be a critical factor.\u00a0 And so it took place, smoothly….[1]<\/sup><\/a>, and I was able to leave hospital early.<\/p>\n

Ronald arrived the day after the operation, while I was still in hospital but brightly sitting up in bed.\u00a0 We installed me in Kalk Bay.\u00a0 It was the right place to be, and I had a glorious view from my bed.\u00a0 He had come for two weeks from Brussels to help establish systems for my recuperation, which we managed very well.\u00a0 Less than a week after surgery we went out to my favorite restaurant for lunch and then started furnishing the recently completed apartment.<\/p>\n

First thing was the arrival of two oriental carpets, together with their Turkish dealer!\u00a0 He unfurled them with that flourish which is only experienced in Istanbul markets, when apple tea is served in small glasses in steady succession, while one nods and shakes one\u2019s head, as one glorious creation is covered by the next layer\u00a0 \u2013 uncurled with that very particular sound. Whoosh Thud!\u00a0 And here I was upstairs in my Kalk Bay empty apartment, being treated to a Turkish clich\u00e9 and one hour later feasting my gaze on two oriental jewels.<\/p>\n

Ronald had a fine eye.\u00a0 The chosen carpets made the spaces.\u00a0 One upstairs and one downstairs in the room where my grandmother\u2019s piano had finally found its place again. The tapestry hanging from the ceiling, my grandmother\u2019s Paisley shawl from Kashmir, also in deep red tones was a perfect companion to the deep lush reds in the carpet.\u00a0 These two textures came alive at night when the warm yellow glow from her alabaster lamp touched them both and also lit up the surface of the rosewood piano, her piano.\u00a0 Beauty.\u00a0 Yes.<\/p>\n

And a calm acceptance was settling in my being.\u00a0 My body and my soul.\u00a0 I was healing.\u00a0 I could really feel it.\u00a0 And Ronald, me and our relationship, so real, authentic, but difficult for those outside our world to fully comprehend, was also in the process of healing.\u00a0 We had shared the two years leading up to my operation quite intensely, meeting up frequently in the region (Brussels, Zagreb and Bratislava).<\/p>\n

The two weeks were suddenly over.\u00a0 He was due to return to Brussels and I prepared to settle into my solitude for the deeper healing I was anticipating for myself.\u00a0 All was well.\u00a0 Except, there was a deep and growing sense of loss… the loss of my womb?<\/p>\n

Reflecting on this experience now, and what this scene is about, I almost wrote \u2018longing\u2019 but that\u2019s not true, it was more the sense of loss.\u00a0 And it was a\u00a0 sense of loss of potential, of opportunity\u2026 the finality of closing the chapter on reproduction \u2013mine \u2013 even though at fifty-three these concepts were no longer valid.. I say it was not longing, and I don\u2019t think we ever longed to have our own children.\u00a0 Certainly not Ronald, although I passed through a phase in my early 40s with the realisation that time was passing and I was unlikely to become a \u2018biological mother\u2019.\u00a0 But with the focus on such active \u2018gender work\u2019\u00a0 there was not much time devoted to this possibly \u2018unmet need\u2019 in myself.<\/p>\n

The longing might have had more to do with my relationship with Ronald.<\/p>\n

***<\/p>\n

In the solitude, my solitude, something started to shift.\u00a0 I was adapting to this new state in my body and my emotions began to unfold in new and surprising ways.\u00a0 I found myself suddenly in tears, for example, for no apparent reason except perhaps I had glanced at something which evoked memory of childhood promise.\u00a0 Even a photo of myself, as a nine-year old schoolgirl with shiny plaits and even shinier eyes, was enough to churn me up…\u00a0 I grappled with all of this, aware that at deep levels, there was a need to release.\u00a0 There was a need to allow these difficult feelings to surface.<\/p>\n

I am not that clear about when the following happened, how long after Ronald\u2019s return to Brussels.\u00a0 But the memory itself is very, very clear and I can feel the memory replaying if I close my eyes…<\/p>\n

Pain had settled in deeply.\u00a0 Not physical pain, more spiritual.\u00a0 My soul was struggling, trying to connect with me, reach and support me in these times.\u00a0 I think \u2018Little me\u2019, egoic me, was finding it difficult \u2013 this \u2018loss\u2019 \u00a0\u2013 \u00a0of what?\u00a0 An aspect of my womanhood? My sexuality? An entire palette of feelings and emotions revealed itself to me. And then there was the longing.<\/p>\n

And so, one night, when the sense of grief had overwhelmed me \u2013 the house in darkness apart from a few candles \u2013 I went downstairs to my grandmother\u2019s piano, placed a candle and opened the lid.<\/p>\n

My hands and fingers rested on the keyboard, eyes closed for quite some time, I imagine.\u00a0 A long time, I\u2019m sure.\u00a0 It felt like going into a meditative space, and a calmness took hold anchored somewhere in my heart space… with an expansiveness and a deepening peace.<\/p>\n

And then, gently… I became conscious of a far-off sound, some little note ringing out.\u00a0 Somewhere in the distance, not in my immediate reality.\u00a0 It was bell-like.\u00a0 Its resonance was under my fingertips.\u00a0 In fact I was aware that in the tiny space between my fingertips and the actual surface of the piano notes\/keys\u00a0 \u2013\u00a0 there was a charge.\u00a0 And suddenly, that charge was like an ignition… and my hands were moving unintended over the keys \u2013 waves rippled out. Music unlike anything I had ever heard or ever played[2]<\/sup><\/a>\u00a0 I felt I was being played.\u00a0 This was not \u2018my will, \u2013 I was not thinking this music.\u00a0 I was an instrument, taken over by music \u2013 a power, an energy, beyond myself.<\/p>\n

After this deeply moving experience, which lasted maybe half an hour or more, I found myself sitting quietly at the piano.\u00a0 Breathing slowly, deeply, eyes closed. It was as if I was slowly coming out of a trance state.\u00a0 I felt incredibly calm.\u00a0 And quietly ecstatic. There was energy vibrating through my entire body.\u00a0 I was a pulse.<\/p>\n

I realised\u00a0 that this was no longer about my interpreting the music of Beethoven or Brahms, Chopin or De Bussey.\u00a0 No more mental involvement.\u00a0 This profound experience and how I would be from this moment forward, was about opening to the essence of Music itself.\u00a0 No thinking with the rational mind.\u00a0 It was purely about Being in the present moment.\u00a0 Getting the ego out of the way, gently, so that there was no judgement, no critique, no analysis.\u00a0\u00a0 Just allowing music to find its way through this instrument: \u00a0Me!<\/p>\n

[1]<\/sup><\/a> Having prepared with a series of JSJ sessions pre- and immediately post-surgery, I was able to leave hospital early.\u00a0 On discharge, I was given a \u2018credit\u2019 for the reduced surgery time (one hour had been booked for \u2018theatre\u2019, and half an hour had been utlised), as well as a refund on \u2018pain killers\u2019 since none had been required!.<\/p>\n

[2]<\/sup><\/a> Except in the dream!<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Early difficulties in reconnecting with the piano. Professional travels to central Europe and finally, with a return to Kalk bay for surgery, a real reconnection with my grandmother’s 1901 Bechstein piano. The return of music into my life in 2003.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"featured_media":362,"template":"","categories":[9],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-363","episode_posts","type-episode_posts","status-publish","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-part-2-music-and-my-soul"],"acf":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/mylisteningheart.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/episode_posts\/363","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/mylisteningheart.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/episode_posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/mylisteningheart.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/episode_posts"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/mylisteningheart.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/media\/362"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/mylisteningheart.org\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=363"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/mylisteningheart.org\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=363"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/mylisteningheart.org\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=363"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}