Category Archives: Confidence

Snail and Vole

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A story by Katharina Lamprecht…

A vole watched a snail, which dipsy-doodled along a path and asked her: “Why do you crawl so arduously back and forth? Doing that it takes you much longer to get forward”. The snail sighed. “That’s true, but I always look on both sides of the path for something to eat. When I´m on the left side I keep thinking, that there might be better food on the right. When I´m on the right side I think the same and therefore go back to the left. I´m always afraid that I will overlook some yummy greens”. The vole understood perfectly. “I´ll help you. I´m a big taller than you are and walk in the middle of the path, that´s a good lookout. You can stay on the right side and in case I see something worth coming over to the left, I´ll let you know”. And in this way they went on. The vole saw many lush and juicy herbs on the left side, but it didn’t say a word. Because now, giving all her attention to just one side of the path, the snail found enough treats. After a while, as the snail discovered that she found enough to eat, she thanked the vole for the help and went on by herself. Just following her path.

Le village de montagne

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J’ai demandé à un client : « Si vous voulez, imaginez-vous une fois votre vie comme un village de montagne, dans lequel le fleuve a débordé et a amené beaucoup de boue et d’éboulis. Après ce malheur le conseil municipal se réunit avec les villageois, les pompiers et la protection civile et ils discutent de ce qui est à faire. Il arrive tout d’abord des gens avec des pelleteuses, des bulldozers et des camions pour enlever le plus gros des éboulis. Pouvez-vous vous imaginer cela ? » « Oui. » « Vous pouvez voir comment ils déblaient tout ça. Après l’équipe de rangement il arrive des gens avec des tuyaux et des balais. Ils enlèvent toute la boue et le sable du village, toute cette saleté qui est venue de l’arrière-pays. Vous pouvez voir comment ils font tout couler vers le bas dans la vallée. Vient ensuite l’équipe des artisans. Il y a des maçons, des plâtriers, des peintres, peut-être aussi des électriciens, des installateurs, des stucateurs, des restaurateurs. « Que font-ils d’après vous ? » « Ils peuvent plafonner ou cloisonner. » « Exact. Quoi d’autre ? » « Poser une moquette. Câbler. Placer des tringles à rideau. » « Exact. Après les artisans arrivent les jardiniers. Ils aménagent de nouveau les parcs et les jardins. On rajoute peut-être un puits au village ou un tilleul au village pour améliorer encore plus le village, pour qu’il soit mieux qu’avant. Et un monument commémoratif. Peut-on imaginer cela ? » « Pas très bien. » « Eh bien, vous n’avez pas besoin de vous imaginer tout ça. Dites bonjour à votre âme, pour qu’elle fasse ça pour vous, comme ça vous n’avez pas à vous en occuper. Après il y a des personnes très importantes qui arrivent. C’est l’équipe de prévention. Ce sont eux qui veillent à ce que cela n’arrive plus. Ils peuvent planter la pente au-dessus du village par exemple, pour que les racines des arbres fixent la terre. Ils peuvent construire des murs et des grillages dans le style d’un paravalanche. Ils peuvent creuser un lit plus profond pour le ruisseau, peuvent construire des marches de barrage et des bassins de retenue ou même une déviation pour l’eau du ruisseau qui est de trop. »

Le nom secret

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Quand un enfant indien arrive au monde il reçoit un nom de ses parents. Ce nom n’est que provisoire, c’est-à-dire il peut changer ou être complété par un autre nom. De la part du sorcier de la tribu l’enfant reçoit en outre un nom secret qui est son vrai et propre nom et connu seulement de lui. Personne ne peut toucher à ce nom. Personne ne peut en faire un mauvais usage. Son vrai nom n’appartient qu’à lui. L’enfant indien reçoit aussi une pierre de la part du chamane. Si le sorcier meurt avant que l’enfant ait appris son nom de sa part, le jeune indien se retire à un endroit désert. Il reste à cet endroit jusqu’à ce que la pierre lui dévoile par un rêve ou une autre révélation son vrai nom. Dans beaucoup de ces pierres il y a des druses, ce sont des cavités avec des pierres précieuses. Dans d’autres il y a de l’or, et dans toutes il y a un enchantement curatif et la force du nom clandestin.

Everything Else

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In a land in our time there lived a man, who read a book and found lots of wonderful stories therein. There were true and invented stories, experienced and pensive, enjoyable and painful stories. There were stories which contained stories, and such which were actually not stories. For every story he read, there occurred to him nearly five which he had either experienced or thought up himself. So the thought came to him, that a lot in the world was a story which could be healing for himself and others; he only needed to absorb the healing stories well and to forget the terrible ones immediately. Then he would learn which story he had used when and for what. So he organised his own stories which he knew, and which had become a help to himself and others, or could become so. Sometimes he noted it down when a new story came to his ears and sometimes when a helpful story occurred to him, he memorised it.

Then he saw before him in a picture the storystories of this life arranged in long shelves, as in a large pharmacy. And behind the counter there sat a man who had learnt to listen to himself and others. He was a master of his subjectspecialty. His talent was that he understood how to tell the right thing at the right time to himself and to those who visited him.

To Save the Goat

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“Turn around at the next junction! We must help the baby goat!” she insisted. To the right of us was a high supporting wall behind which, in a field, was a herd of grazing goats. One young goat stood lost below the wall. Had it fallen? It obviously could not get back to the others. It stood, helpless and lonely at the edge of the road. We turned around. Prohibitive signs and one-way streets directed us to a long diversion, but finally we arrived at our destination. The goat still stood at exactly the same place. Slowly we came closer. It looked at us, looked up – and with one, nimble leap, was back with the others.

In a high security jail in Capetown, Southafrica

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That’ where Joanna is working. Here job is to try to create reconciliation between gang members and to contribute to the resocialisation of some of those prisoners who leave jail and go back in society. Most inmates belong to gangs who have numbers as names… there’s gang 26 who’s specialized on theft and gang 28 who work a lot with sex between the prisoners. Most inmates are waiting for a trial or are already trialled for murder, rape and other capital crimes. Some have killed many other people, both outside and inside the jail. There is a lot of attempts to stabb the staff – about have of the staff members have already suffered stabbing attacks. The film is documenting how Joanna works in order to create an atmosphere of trust and contribute to a change in the lives of the inmates.
Those of you who just want to get a 9.5 minute impression should best watch this part (part 2 of 5). Those who want to see all 5 parts (about 50 min, I guess) may want to start with part 1 which gives an impressive introduction in this gang world.
Depending on where you come from, some of you may need a Youtube-Unblocker in order to see the film.

 


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The Landfill Harmonic Orchestra

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Sometimes clients who come to therapy describe themselves or each other as broken, as rubbish, as worthless… and sometimes they may not use such words but treat themselves and others like rubbish. Some injure themselves, some try to suicide. And possibly all of this is happening because they didn’t learn to discover that they are valuable themselves. I believe that everything in life can become valuable and can be seen as a value. Anything, even the most unuseful things in life can be utilized for making life precious. I don’t mean that this were an easy task. The contrary is true: “To turn shit into roses” (Virginia Satir) is what the Germans call “Lebenskunst”, meaning, the high art of living a fulfilled life.
This short documentary is telling a story on this art, a story on how to turn rubbish into music and rubbish lives intoproud, happy beautiful lives!
Have a wonderful day, all of you!


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