It was a
real joy for me to contribute as a presenter at the Shiatsu Symposium in
Chicago in mid-October. Not only did I
have the great pleasure of introducing 40+ participants to their Personal Power
Animals and showing them the advantage of giving a treatment using their
“animal hands,” but I also got the rare opportunity to be a student in the
other workshops. One of the workshops
was about using shiatsu in treating the grieving process. I couldn’t help but think what a perfect time
of year it was for this topic. In Asian
medicine, autumn is the season of the Metal Element, and the emotion connected
with Metal is grief. It was at this time
of year I lost some of my most beloved – one of my best friends three years ago,
my sister two years ago, and my most influential teacher last year.
Another
feature of the Symposium was called “Dinner
With The Instructor.” It was an
opportunity for participants to probe deeper on the subject of the class, ask
about training, or anything in the field they wanted to know more about. Instructors were told they could suggest a
topic of interest that they would like the participants to bring up if they were interested. I chose as my topic the lineage of Zen
Shiatsu. I realized that I may be one of
the very few left alive in the United States who studied with both its founder,
Shizuto Masunaga, and his Number One Disciple, Akinobu Kishi.
When I
was teaching at the Shiatsu Education Center of America in New York City in the
1970’s, I was one of four instructors who carried out the vision of the
school. Three of us – Pauline, Esther
and I – took care of Master Masunaga when he came to New York to teach his week
long seminars. We were with him from
breakfast until he fell asleep at the dinner table late at night. It was such a privilege because we discovered
that he would teach more of the essence
of his work over food and drink than he did in the classroom. Being privy to this made me hungry for more,
but Masunaga lived in Japan and did not teach foreigners.
A
different grouping of three – Pauline, Pamela and I – taught in Europe in countries where the
school had students. I had been to
several countries many times and loved watching how different cultures
understood and used the same information and techniques that we were teaching. After a couple of years, students in Germany
were complaining that we were not there often enough for them to advance their
skills, which made me consider moving there.
Then Kishi came to New York. He
came only once, but I knew right away that I wanted to study with him. He lived in Paris . . . and that was possible.
By the
time I was able to arrange to move to Europe, Kishi had moved to Germany. That meant that there was a student body
already waiting for a teacher. I was
able to stay for a couple of years because I had work to support me. As is the traditional Japanese custom for
student-teacher relationships, I lived in the same house with Kishi and had
24-hour access to his teaching. It was a
defining time in my life, and certainly the most fascinating and satisfying
learning experience under the sun. Kishi
was extraordinary in his ability to accept life as it was, whatever presented
itself to him, and to make the absolute best of it. And he was a powerful healer of exceptional
ability. Being around him was an absolutely
uplifting experience every day. He has
been the most significant influence on my practice – not so much in technique,
but in how I understand energy and its movement through a life, the suffering
and healing of a human being.
Kishi
died in October of last year. My “baby”
sister passed two years ago, and
Pauline, whom I mentioned above and who was my good friend and colleague for 30
years, crossed over three years ago.
Esther died the year before Pauline and Pamela passed about 10 years
ago. There is no one left who shares
that special part of my personal history that was so formative in molding the
woman I have become. And yet, I have
some peace at this time of year because I know they are close. And I know how truly fortunate I am to have
had them in my life. I am filled with
love as I write this. I feel my love for
them and theirs for me. And, even if
there are tears in my eyes, there is a smile on my face and in my heart for all that love and for the sheer luck of having had them close.
On
Halloween, what I have done for years to honor my loved ones is to light a
candle at midnight and do a loving kindness meditation for my parents and
ancestors. I believe the energy that
they invested in making their progeny was strong enough to live on.
In a certain way, I feel there is still a vested interest in my success
and happiness. So after sending love and
gratitude, I sit quietly in the stillness, feeling so much love coming right
back to me. I sit . . . and I
listen. After all, if there is, indeed, a
vested interest in my life, there may be a message for my future.
This
year, as well as including my ancestors, I will add my sister, my teachers and
my friends to my meditation. I wonder
what inspiration they will bring!
May this Halloween bring your loved ones closer to you!
May this Halloween bring your loved ones closer to you!
