 |
|
"Just
finished the Escort to the Beloved chapter. I have
cried for the first time since December 8, 2000—the
night of the car accident that nearly took my life.
I didn't cry then. I think I became an observer of
my life. I can't begin to thank you for writing this
book.” |
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Trebbe Johnson's Newsletter
May 2007
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
|
 Dear
Questers, Friends, and Seekers of the
Beloved,
Thank you to everyone who wrote telling
me your news and making suggestions for
improving the form and content of this
newsletter. To those of you who are
receiving the newsletter for the first
time... welcome! Here you'll find news
of upcoming
Vision Arrow
events, reflections, profiles of
extraordinary people, and stories of
transformation that occur when we
accept, in small, bold, startling ways
the invitations that the world is always
sending us. |
|
THE
GESTURE THAT REACHES TWO WAYS
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
 When
one person reaches out across the gap
that separates her or him from another,
then someone else has the opportunity to
receive that gesture, and both are
affected, often in unexpected ways. I
learned this in July 1984 when I made a
gesture that, though it lasted perhaps
three seconds, changed my life.
At that time I was focused on building
up my mental, physical, and spiritual
health. I was four years sober, but as
is common with someone emerging from
years of addiction and isolation, I
nursed massive self-doubt and
insecurity. It would be four more years
until I took my first vision quest and
even longer before I began to think of
myself as a person who could be a guide
to others.
By accident I received a catalogue in
the mail from
Omega Institute
in Rhinebeck, New York. I was
immediately drawn to a dance class whose
theme was expressing the goddess within
oneself. I had always loved mythology
and had discovered dancing a year or so
earlier as a path toward wholeness. Full
of fear that I would be out of place,
unwelcome, a stranger, I enrolled.
On the third day of the class, we moved
from the indoor studio out to the lake.
The instructor told the class of about
35-40 women the stories of six Greek
goddesses and asked us to choose which
one we most related to, then to form
groups accordingly. My first instinct
was to be an Athena, goddess of wisdom,
but for some unknown reason, I decided
that, on this day at least, I would be
Aphrodite, goddess of love.
Each group was to create a dance that
typified their particular goddess, then
to perform it for the group. We
Aphrodites patterned ourselves on the
famous Botticelli painting in which
Venus has risen out of the waves and
stands, graceful and sensuous, on a
shell, gazing out at her world. We
choreographed a dance in which we would
slowly rise up from the ground and,
awakening to life, love, and beauty,
begin to dance.
When it was our turn, I realized at once
that simply dancing with my co-Aphrodites
was not enough. No, the entire class
must dance, must be awakened and invited
to express their own inner goddess of
love. For a moment I hesitated. I feared
making an offering that would be
rejected. But I reached across that gap.
I reached down to a woman who was
sitting on the grass and with my hand
invited her into the dance. Instantly,
the other Aphrodites saw that this
gesture was, of course, the only one
possible for the goddess of love, and
they followed suit. Soon not just a few,
but forty women were dancing on the
grass.
Recalling that moment, which happened
twenty-three years ago, still brings
tears to my eyes. It changed my life. It
let me know that my own passions could
be meaningful to others. It taught me to
risk reaching out into unknown space. It
showed me how easy it is to connect with
others.
All this time I have had a deep and
special fondness for Omega Institute,
which offered me the invitation to
transform. I have taken many classes
there over the years and am thrilled
beyond words that this summer, July
29-August 3, I will be presenting a
five-day workshop of my own,
DESIRE AND THE QUEST FOR THE BELOVED.
I hope you will join me there. I am
certain that you will be the giver or
the recipient of one of those gestures
that changes your life.
|
|
THE WOMAN
WHO STOPPED AN AIRPLANE
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
 One
of the joys of guiding vision
quests is working with amazing
co-guides. Sabina Wyss, a life
coach, certified practitioner of
homeopathic medicine, and
steward of the Tuareg foundation
Iferoaune in Niger, as well as a
vision quest guide, is one of
them. Ever since I met Sabina in
1999, I have known her as a
woman of exceptional insight,
courage, and adventurous spirit.
Little did I know she was
capable of stopping a plane.
Last January, after the two-week
Sahara quest we guided in the
Sahara Desert, our Tuareg guide,
Adem Roth Mellakh, told us we
had to arrive early at the
airport in the Algerian oasis
town of Tamanrasset because a
large group was arriving after
making the Hadj, the annual
pilgrimage to Mecca, and the
road to the airport might be
closed. As it turned out, we had
to wait at the airport for
several hours. We did our best
to sleep on the hard plastic
chairs in the cold waiting room
and finally, just as the sun was
rising, and after we witnessed
the beautiful sight of scores of
robed men deplaning after their
sacred journey, we boarded the
plane, about four hours late. It
seemed certain that we would
miss our connecting flight from
Algiers back to Geneva.
Shortly after we took off, I saw
tall, blond Sabina stride to the
front of the plane. I didn't
think anything of it and must
have been asleep when she
returned. We arrived in Algiers,
to be met by our airport liaison
Amitsai, who has helped Sabina's
Sahara groups for years.
Hurriedly he herded us onto a
private bus for the ride to the
other terminal. We pushed
through multiple luggage
screenings, customs, passport
control. Then, suddenly, Sabina
was dashing away. I watched,
alarmed. Now what? Was there
some new hitch? It wasn't until
the last of our group was
boarding the plane that she
returned, lugging several
plastic bags.
The plane was completely full.
The passenger had been sitting
in it and waiting for more than
an hour. They looked at us with
expressions of curiosity or
resentment as we bumped and
sidled to our places. Sabina and
I sank into our seats,
breathless.
"Where did you go?" I asked. She
showed me her shopping bags. She
had made a detour to buy boxes
of fresh Algerian dates for
everyone in the group.
Amazed at her thoughtfulness, as
well as her boldness in making
such a trip in the midst of our
frantic dash to the plane, I
remarked how fortunate we had
been that the plane had for some
reason been delayed. Or, I said,
the thought just occurring to
me, maybe Amitsai had pulled
some strings.
"I talked to the pilot," Sabina
said simply.
"What?"
"Did you see me walk to the
front of the plane after we left
Tamanrasset?" Sabina asked.
I said I had.
"I asked if I could speak to the
pilot," she told me. "He was
glad to have someone to talk to.
I explained our situation and
asked him if he could help. He
radioed the airline and they
said they'd hold the plane for
us."
This is Sabina Wyss. She can
read into a quester's story and
intuitively know just what to
say in the boldest or subltest
of ways to guide them on their
individual inner journey. And
she can reverse the course of an
outer journey for fourteen
people by literally stopping a
plane from taking off.
|
|
WHERE
IS THE NORTHERN WOOD THRUSH?
(Part 1)
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
For the second year in a row,
the northern wood thrush, with
its melodic three-tone song, has
not appeared in its usual place
in a shaded wetlands wood in my
local nature preserve. Is this
because we had a late spring? Or
has global climate change forced
the bird to nest farther north?
And what is to be my reaction to
the thrush's absence? The part
of me that feels the inexorable
shadow of environmental
devastation spreading ever wider
and darker wants to mourn the
loss of a favorite bird. My
innate human optimism wants to
assume that the bird is just a
little late in coming, that all
species experience natural rises
and declines in population. This
dilemma seems to me to be at the
heart of our planetwide
ecological consciousness. Do we
meet oncoming change with fear
or grief, hope or curiosity? I
will go to the place in the
woodland where the northern wood
thrush has thrived and wait to
see what happens-to it or to me.
|
|
ON
DIVINE SEXUALITY
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
 The
new issue of PARABOLA, the
magazine of Tradition, Myth, and
the Search for Meaning features
my "Down
Came the Door of Dharma:
Lovemaking Between Humans and
Gods," as the lead article. You
can read the article on line by
clicking the link above.
This issue also has a review of
my book, THE WORLD IS A WAITING
LOVER: DESIRE AND THE QUEST FOR
THE BELOVED. Reviewer Toinette
Lippe writes: "THE WORLD IS A
WAITING LOVER can be read as a
grand adventure, a love story,
an anthropological inquiry into
the psyche, or a guide book on
attaining union with the divine.
Whatever you call it, the book
offers an unabashedly delicious
and juicy experience."
You can meet your own inner,
archetypal Beloved, the
personification of the energy
that has been seducing you into
all your life into what you
love.
Upcoming workshops
are at
Omega Institute,
July 29-Aug. 3 and
Diana's Grove,
September 21-23 at Salem, MO.
The book is available at
bookstores everywhere and at
Amazon.com.
|
|
|
Contact Information
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
phone: 570/727-4272
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Archives:
April 2007 |
|
| Sign up for the Newsletter |
|
|
|
 |
|
|
|
