Thursday, January 15, 2004

Amongst the group there was a mixture of people as usual.
Always a mixture.
Unique humans of course.

Yes ...... here I am ..... in post - group mode.

A small number of those who feel at home in the climate of trust and, they themselves, are the climate of trust.
They can speak openly.
They do speak honestly and want to.
Words of surprising depth - forever flow from the young lips which have lived life to such an extreme.
They struggle because ...... other people are there who don't know how to talk and, more importantly, don't know how to listen. Or at least be silent when others are opening their soul for examination. The newest humans in the group shout, not talk. Swear more than normal. Interrupt. And yet these are the ones who need the affirmation to encourage them to stay and return another time.
Handling the group is like crawling on egg shells. Keeping the flow is a work of gentle human interaction art.
There are beautiful moments but ......... much less than the normal group session. I need to accept that and go with the flow.

So now .......... I let the night come on me, come at me.
It is late and night.
I can hear the urban voices ......... shouting.
Police cars racing and alarming the night.
I hear the drunken brawly type exchanges.
The squealing of car tyres.
The smash of glass.

'Outkast' is on the laptop as I click da keys.
It is a fine album.

I am tired now but will not sleep too well.
Never do when I take a group work session to be with me.

I feel ................ deep ...... thoughtful ...... yearning ....... reflective ........ quietly-buzzing ........... dissatisfied somewhat ....... I love these people in my soul at the moment. Their expressions and their authentic fragility. Yes these are feelings.

It isn't a bell until it's rung

It isn't a song until it's sung

It isn't love 'til it is given away