I’ve been having Physiotherapy recently due to that fall in France and the resulting fluid under my patella and inflamed ligaments. I have to say I’ve stopped now as it’s so bloody expensive and I didn’t seem to be improving any more. It brought therapy’s to mind in general as in ones I have had. Quite crazy experiences at times.
The year after chemotherapy I was invited to be part of an all women tutor course in Trossin in Germany. The workshops were organised by the fabulous Andrea Hotzko and there was one extended weekend in May and then another in the Autumn. The tutors came from France, Germany, Uk and I have a vague memory that the vocal tutor was Brazilian. The whole experience was exhausting and wonderful and very well organised. Exhausting because I was still in recover from the cancer and chemo. I think it was after the October one that I’d arranged to go and stay with my friends Jo and Gabi Meyer in the East of Berlin.
I first met Jo and Gabi when Blowzabella went to play in East Germany before the wall came down. I’ve no doubt I’ll tell you more about those amazing East German experiences in these blogs, later on, too. They were both part of a band called Jams. A brilliant band called Jams…. yes I meant to say that twice. It’s partly their recordings that make me particularly keen to get my turn table sorted out in France so that I can play my vinyl. Most of their early stuff isn’t on CD as far as I’m aware. Jo was memorable from the moment we met him. Firstly he was one of the few people who spoke some English. Most East Germans had Russian as a second language but additionally he was the one who said on meeting us, “I have personally copied one hundred cassettes of your album”. Normally if someone said that to a musician you’d punch them and cry, ‘foul deed’ and ‘where are my royalties’ etc but behind the wall in the East getting access to music, especially alternative music was really difficult so anything they could do to help each other have access they did. Copying the music and passing it round meant that when we played anywhere the crowds went absolutely mad for the music. So exhilarating.
Anyway, this little blog isn’t about that it’s about more recent times. I haven’t had a lot of alternative therapy in my life. I’ve had some acupuncture and something else where I used to be a guinea pig for the students in Nottingham but I have forgotten what it was called. Oops …sorry…shiatsu I think…or is that a type of dog? Reading that agin it sounds like I was turned into a guinea pig…now that would be something.
The first time I had acupuncture was for pain relief when I broke a rib. It did seem to help with the pain and the trauma. Certainly took your mind off it anyway! Later it was for all kinds of things mixed together , broken heart (sob) , peri-menopausal symptoms, general fatigue etc…in hind site a lot of what I was experiencing then may well have been my follicular lymphoma developing. One time my acupuncturist had come back from a long haul flight. She seemed Ok if a little red eyed and dozy. The session went as normal, conversation, treatment, a bit of time on my own while the needles were left to work and then she took them out, I paid and off I went. As I got out into the street I felt a little chilled as the evening had drawn in and I decided to put my jacket back on. Ouch….something kept stinging me, I tried the coat again..the same pain. So I felt around the inside of my collar and couldn’t feel anything. Then I thought oh…..maybe she left a needle in. Fortunately I was the last patient of the day so she was still there and I wasn’t interrupting anything. Sure thing she’d not only left one but three needles all around the same area…ooops! She was absolutely mortified..some of you are muttering ‘so she should have been’. I forgive her as everyone is allowed mistakes. It didn’t do me much harm except I have since become my own garden sprinkler if I drink too much water. She was a nice woman and her horror gained her forgiveness on my part.
Gabi, unlike Jo (pronounced Yo by the way) didn’t speak much English at all. We had spent all the years we’d known each other mostly beaming at each other. Gabi had a delightful way of blushing too because she wanted to say things and just couldn’t so would giggle. We basically had a mutual admiration society but mostly expressed through our appreciation of each others music and a hug etc with Jo around to translate from time to time. Gabi was the first fiddle player in my European band Freyja. Not long after it had been agreed that the band would happen Gabi became pregnant . This meant that when the band finally went on tour she came with baby and hubby. How they coped I have no idea. Very lovely for the rest of us to have little Freda around though…and Jo of course.
So, having arrived at their house and had a meal and a sleep Gabi said she wanted me to go and see her therapist…well Jo told me that was what Gabi was trying to say. She wanted to help with my recovery and she thought this would help. ‘Ok’, I said. I am happy to try anything and especially if you want me too’. She rang and made the appointment and off we went the next day.
I was shown into a room by a female therapist who told me to take my top off and lie down on my front. I have a vague memory of a hot stone being involved. She then did this kind of stroking and flicking thing and asked me one question. The question was something to do with my father which, bearing in mind I’ve never met him, not passed the age of 18 months anyway, I had no idea what to answer but did the best I could. Then after a while she left me on my own. The music was bearable (it’s often so awful I would rather have silence because it irritates me so much I want to scream…hardly relaxing!). Pretty soon it was time to get dressed and go back to the reception area.
When I got out to reception there were three women, including Gabi, all chatting animatedly in German, of course. I asked them what they were talking about. The therapist said falteringly, ‘you are.. hm..you are amazing’. I blinked..’ I beg your pardon? ‘you are amazing, hmm…amazing energy’. I obviously still looked dumbfounded so she called this other woman over and they all three discussed it and then the third woman said, ‘Yes, you are special. You are Shaman”. Having no idea what that meant and being just a touch embarrassed by now I fumbled in my bag for money and the woman at the counter also gave me a little piece of yellow paper that the therapist had scribbled on. The only bit I could decipher and remember was the bit at the bottom that said, ‘Spend more time with your feet on the earth and less with your head in the clouds’. Such an accurate description of me I assume that that’s where all Shamans live.
Joking aside I get very good afterwards.
Just to be on the safe side here is the Cambridge dictionary definition: Shaman “a person who is thought to have special powers to controlor influence good and evil spirits, making it possible for them to discover the cause of illness, bad luck, etc.”
if anyone needs my shamanic services please get in touch.
Jo Freya’s Musings 