The Purpose  of   HEALING - K.I.S.S. - as stated 12 years ago - was and is   to help me and my potential P E E R s  "to HEAL ourselves into WHOLEness, and - by extension - all of CREATion!"

Intro to Healing-K.i.s.s. 2001-2013 and Overview of its main libraries [If you look for a word on this page, click ctrl/F and put a word in "find"]

I focus my experiencing and awareness on being "a   pioneer of  Evolution  in  learning  to  feel": I let my Body vibrate and my Heart 'womb' pain, shame, fear, boredom, powerlessness, so feelings can >heal >guide>fulfill>evolve, and ~~~ offer ~~~"goldmines"~~~ to us all!! "I want you to feel everything, every little thing!"

 

Immanuel Micha

On Ronnit's 44th birthday, January 4, 2009
I sent her images and compositions of Mika's birthday on 2008_12_20
together with two stories of 2002 and 2003,
in which she and all her children appear.

 

 

Rotem with her uncle Immanuel

Abba Uri, daughter Rotem, son Itamar


Tomer with the only cousin he appreciates: Rotem

Old Images of Jonathan, Ronnit's Firstborn,
who did not come to Mika's birthday in 2008

With brother Itamar during our Pesach Celebration in my home , March 2002

Visiting Succah of the Desert with Grandma, on his 11th birthday, April 2002

Jonathan on his computer in his room at Modi'in- July 2002

Grandma takes Jonathan and his siblings and cousins
often to the pool at Neve-Shalom in summer 2002

Grandma takes Jonathan and his cousins Alon and Tomer
to the Lake of Tiberias
and then to Immanuel's home at Kfar Wradim in August 2003

Jonathan, January 2004, his father's photo

Three daughters on December 20, 2008:
Yael (12) - the daughter of my daughter Ronnit
Ayelet (10)- the daughter of my son Micha
Mika (3) - the daughter of my son Immanuel

What a loving, lovely embrace between two cousins, Ayelet and Rotem

 

Stories about my Shai Family

[From a puzzle piece called "JOY"]
2002_03_10-11

JONATHAN

Invited to Ronnit's family for the Eve of Shabbat,
I came to sit next to Jonathan at the festive table.

7 hours before, while we both attended
a dance performance of Rotem at school,
Jonathan, "of course", did not appear,
neither among the saxophone players
nor among the audience.
There had been "problems again", he had hit a child.
R. said desperately:"You are right, he really is lost".
"I never said a thing like said", I countered strongly.

Later I called her:
"Could you free yourself a little towards sunset
and walk with me on my path to 'my garden'?"

Sitting on an ancient terrace wall, my "king's seat",
I reminded her with hot fervor of what she knows:

"Since Jonathan is an actor I invited to my play,
how can I make an "IS-statement" about him?
What I said the other day, was, that I'm scared.
I am scared - not for him,
How do I know what he needs to learn?
I am scared of the triggers
I might attract through him.

My way to heal this fear,
is healing into wholeness,
so I won't attract triggers.

"But what, if I am an incompetent mother after all?"

"There you are! Judging yourself heavily again!
Even if you were incompetent, you do the best you can."

"That doesn't advance me the least in my coping with this child."

"As long as you focus on the change in him, that you work for,
it will bring you disappointment,
which will cause you self judgment,
which you'll then probably project on him as blame.
So, what I ask you to do, is what I ask myself to do:
Whenever your terror is triggered by a new "event",
feel the terror concerning your child totally,
love yourself for the way you are coping with him,
remember that he might be a fragment of ours,
i.e. an incarnation of an ancient denial of ours,
and as to your worry about him,
trust that he too chooses his life."

Now, 2 hours later I found my grandson in good mood,
he even told me a joke right before we lit the candles.
The family adopted my tradition of uniting the flames,
and when it was my turn to do so and say out loud,
what in myself I want to unite,
I dared to share the culmination of my week's healing work:
"I want to unite the pain about the lack of recognition for my thesis
with my new understanding that I, in fact,
chose and need this denial."

"But you have another year until 2003!" said Jonathan.
I looked at him with utter surprise,
for the fact, that he related to me,
though not even supposed to in this ceremony,
and because of his sudden sympathy with me.
"Oh. You mean my vision "Altneuland 2003"!
I hadn't even thought of it. I meant my thesis!"

It is true, the little novel about the future desert economy,
with its title alluding to the visionary novel : "Oldnewland"
by the main propagist of a "Jewish State", Theodor Herzl,
burnt or rots like hundreds of papers depicting the vision.
And so do the 200 audio-casettes on which I recorded it.
But in terms of time invested and pain entrapped in it,
it cannot be compared to my thesis and other writings.

This gift from Jonathan was to be followed by another.
After dinner the children were in the mood of dancing,
While I was swirling around a little one, Jonathan said:
"After them it's MY turn."

The last time, we had done this, was at least a year ago.
Now he is almost 11, how could I still do this physically?
But my Body has extraordinary capacities when needed.

While spinning with him I matched the jumps he invented,
and when at the end of the music we were both exhausted,
he said, a little embarassed: "It's ages I haven't done this".

I was grateful for these reflections of my new wholeness.

ROTEM

The next day, Shabbat, brought great gifts from Rotem.
She and her friend Mikhal stayed with me for 10 hours.
Twice we worked together; twice we had serious talks.

Work:
Through high grass, spotted with yellow chrysanthems,
I led them twice to "my" two wild fig trees.
One I had finished clearing from dead twigs and bad herbs,
but the bigger one seemed to hardly breathe
under veritable monsters of stinging nettles.

The girls helped with such enthusiasm "to rescue the tree",
that it was me who had to stop from exhaustion.
They begged: Rest a little, so that we can go on.
Even when each of them got stung by the nettles
and their delicate skin reacted much stronger than mine,
they used the pain to jump on the uprooted or slain herbs,
so as to prevent them from raising their heads again
and to cause them instead to serve the tree as fertilizers.

I could write a story about their creativity, their stamina,
their way of observing, concluding, and clever chatting.
"We should bring the other girls here,
this is more fun than going to the mall or watching movies
But only if they won't litter the pure soil around the tree."

The satisfaction we drew from both, the work and its result,
was heightened by some extra delights,
like freeing a hidden suffocated flower from emprisonment,
or following gigantic arrows of migrating birds in the sky.

When the old complex trunk could finally breathe
in a nettle free area of about 1.50m all around it,
the girls were elated and stroked the tree lovingly.
"Such a tree - it always gives and gives to people.
When does it happen that it receives something?"

The pride of having given something to the tree,
recurred in a quite different context a little later.
Back home my ear caught Mikhal telling Rotem:
"You know it! To give is better than to receive."

"Oh no, no, Mikhal, don't buy into this old belief!
But first let's have tea. Then I'll explain to you ."

Testing if they were really ready to listen to me,
I faked forgetting. But they soon reminded me:
"Tell us, it's fascinating if you talk to us like that."

A triggered hole in me wanted to snap cynically:
'You could have that every day, if you wanted.'
But my "Mind" appreciates Rotem's instinct of
drinking from my udders in homeopathic doses.

I told the plight of the metaphorical "Cain"
and its application in one aspect of our society.

"About 20 years ago I listened to a lecture
by the President of Israel, Yitzhak Navon:

'The immigrants from Arab countries
came here to contribute and to give.
They had a highly developed culture.

'But right at their arrival in the airport of Israel
men in elegant suits were sprayed with DDT.
Then they were driven off to be taken care of.

'No one was interested in what they had to give.
They learnt that they were expected to receive.
It's then that they demonstrated on the streets:
-Bread and Labor! Give us Bread and Labor!-
This is why Cain murdered Abel.'
closed the President of Israel."

The little girls were awe-stricken.
They blurted their own examples.

I mentioned my "udders".
"I always gave too much.
Did you hear, what I said,
when I united the flames?"
"We did not understand it."

I told them the example of my PH.D.,
(for me a chance to 'move' a little more)
interrupted often by their questions and associations
and closed with sharing my gratitude:
"See, what gift the uniting of the flames brought me:
You!

"You received my giving,
when you came with me to my path and my fig-trees.
You received what I wished to show and to teach you.

"You accepted my idea of rescuing the tree
not just with words, but with wonderful help.

"You received my giving, when we discussed together
the pain of the real Christopher Robin in Poo, the Bear.

"And now, when I told you about Cain and my PH.D.
you let me give you from my wisdom and experience.

Thus the three of us said "Shalom" [=wholeness],
deeply fulfilled by mutual giving and receiving.

From a Mar-Mar letter: 2003_05_29

Yael

7:19

When I had finally fallen asleep,
Yael came into my bed at 5:50, too excited to sleep.
One of her "centers", as it's called in the Democratic School,
is called "Simple Story",
and they'll travel to Holon,
the 5 parks with sculptures from stories like Le petit Prince.
I suggested that we see the early sun
- though it had already risen, Chamsin-pale.

15:43

The angels work overtime.
And my speed today is unusual even for me.
I managed to enter the pool a second time at 14:59
(the deal with old folks is from Sunday to Thursday from 6:00 to 15:00)
and during a vigorous half hour swim, I told you in my imagination,
what I now want to sculpt in writing, fast,
riding on my amazing present wave of creative energy,
and I still hope to be back at Ronnit's house at 16:00.

For the first time ever I had lunch only with Yael.
When 1, 2, 3 or 4 other kids are around, she is silent.
And for the first time ever she told me a story.
I drew her out about the excursion to Holon.
There were other stories, sculpted in those parks, I didn't know.
But only the story of "ha-arnevet Mamushi" she wanted to tell me.
I'm telling it exactly from the mouth of a 7 year old,
with only slight refinements:

Rabbit Mamushi ("the one who is mamashi"?) went out alone for the first time.
His mother wanted him to feel comfortable, so she gave him 3 balloons.
The rabbit said to himself (rhymes in Hebrew):
Since I have these balloons, I shall find friends.

The first one was a hedgehog:
"Little rabbit, I've never hugged a balloon.
If you let me hug a balloon, I'll be your friend."

So little rabbit let the hedgehog hug the balloon.
But when the hedgehog hugged the balloon,
the balloon exploded:
"That balloon isn't worth anything,
I won't be your friend."
said the hedgehog in anger.

Rabbit Mamushi was sad.

Then he met a turtle.
"Little rabbit, I've never hugged a balloon.
If you let me hug a balloon, I'll be your friend."
The turtle was allowed to hug the balloon.
He sat on it and rocked on it and the balloon exploded.
"That balloon isn't worth anything,
I won't be your friend."
said the turtle in anger.

Rabbit Mamushi was sadder.

[Here Yael interrupted herself;
"Oh I forgot to tell you something in the beginning:
Before the rabbit met the hedgehog,
he saw a bee:
"bee, bee, don't sting me!"
"But I am not a bee,
I am a blue butterfly,
can't you see?"]

Finally rabbit Mamushi met a lizzard.
When the lizzard wanted to hug the balloon,
the balloon escaped, the lizzard snapped,
and when snapped, bit it, and the balloon exploded.
"That balloon isn't worth anything,
I won't be your friend."
said the lizzard in anger.

Rabbit Mamushi now sat down in greatest sadness;
"I have not found friends,
and I have no balloons anymore."

Suddenly that blue butterfly flew along:
"Can I sit on your ear, rabbit Mamushi?"

"But I have no balloons anymore."

"I don't love balloons, I love YOU".
So he sat on his ear
and then showed him all kinds of things,
and they ran and they played all day long.

Then the butterfly said: "Your mother is waiting."
When they came home,
the rabbit's mother saw, that her child was happy.
The rabbit asked her for another balloon for his friend.
He blew it up and gave it to the butterfly.
But the butterfly said again:
"I don't love balloons!
It's you, whom I love."

And rabbit Mamushi changed his little song:
he didn't need balloons to have the dearest of friends

18:19
Those angels!

Four more starts of the car-engine:
I raced to the pool, as I said,
I raced to Ronnit's, though I thought it was not needed,
and I finally brought Yael to her dancing class,
returned car and key to Ronnit
and walked home under the drops of rain which followed the sandstorm
turning the yellow dust on the parking cars into tiny channels of dirt.

After school Itamar had begged me to join a friend and his mother .
I therefore wasn't needed so much at Ronnit's and wondered,
why I was being so pedantic in my determination to be there at 4.
I entered the flat at 16:01 and saw, that Rotem's fever had risen.
At 16:05 the bell rang, that mother brought not only Itamar back,
but said, that the 2 friends now wanted to be at Itamar's place.

A grateful glance towards my orchestrating angels.

Medicine for Rotem and a grated apple was finally welcomed.
Jonathan remembered that he had not yet eaten the whole day,
and I put the kitchen and dishwasher (Rotem's turn) in order.
When I just wanted to do the extraordinary,
i.e. read a few lines while drinking a cup of coffee,
bitter weeping reached my ears from the lower floor.
I said, that there are still four Thursdays ahead.
But no, it will be the Eve of Shavuoth next week,
which means no studies for Ronnit, no need for me.
So angel Itamar gave me another chance right now.

He had wounded his finger at some metal, a tiny bit.
He cried out of proportion and I took him in my arms,
I soothed him with the little song my husband made up,
when our kids were small: "ke'ev katan asae sameakh"
he calmed down, but he wouldn't let me go.
So this day found us once more sitting on the floor,
Itamar in my lap, and cradled by me, he fell asleep.
I had a feeling, that he was on his way to sickness too,
and that in my arms he would move faster through the process.
So while his friend played silently, I held him close to my heart.

We stayed in this embrace, Itamar and I, for almost an hour,
until Ronnit came home.

A loving talk between my daughter and her sister-in-love, Efrat