Primal Integration

by Anonymous

I came to Barb’s, on one Friday night
On my face, you could read the fright
What would happen, if I enter in?
What would I find, lying within?

Down to the basement, we chose our mat
I found a safe corner, and there I sat
Going around, we spoke of our hurt
My pain was hidden, but my body alert.

And so we began our process of feeling
Crying and sharing, longing for healing
Together and alone, we wept and we screamed
In the sand, we explored our past and our dreams.

Vic brought the touch, the kindness we sought
Our bodies received the great love his hands taught
Who can explain, how he erases the pain
He gave all he had, he had little to gain.

Barb’s realness and calmness opened our need
Her comforting presence allowed us to feed
On this life-giving substance I can’t really name
But it gave us permission to enter our shame.

Confident and gentle, Bill was our coach
No judgement or obstacle blocked his approach
His maleness was tender, no fear to allay
So freely and purely, he knew what to say.

Hurt people hurt people, Bill taught me and then
I learned I can’t hide it or only pretend
Relive it, release it, and you will arrive
At a place to transcend it and be fully alive.

The bat found my hand, as I let it all go
The rage and the anger—I hit high and low
I sobbed what was buried, I yelled what was true
Until I was weary, and ready to move

To a level of living, in the depth of my soul
Where joy is abundant, and I can be whole
What return can I make for the life I have found?
But to teach what I live and to love from the Ground . . .
Of my Being

This poem appeared in the Spring 2005 IPA Newsletter.