When I saw my first Calypso Orchid in the shade of Spruce trees in the foothills of Alberta, I felt enchanted and decided right away, that one day I will dive into its energy to understand the strong attraction I felt. Three years later I was ready to do it.
In June 2010 a group of 2 men and 3 women met in Calgary, Alberta, in order to do a C4-homeopathic trituration of the Calypso Orchid (Calypso bulbosa).
The group of homeopaths that dared to go into the Calypso energy without any idea of what they are getting into, was truly courageous. All participants were highly sensitive and trained in the perception of subtle energies and perfectly able to express their inner experience in the limiting vehicle of our human language. It was a perfect group for venturing into the unknown terrain of our inner landscape, where our inner Calypso is growing, tucked away in hidden corners of our soul. I want to express my highest respect and gratitude for their comradeship, the support and the safe space they held for each other on this journey into the eddies of our desire and pain. Calypso rewarded us with deep insight that helped us to transform old pains.
In the following write up I will simply call the female participants F1, F2 and F3, and the male participants M1 and M2. As all of the participants had been homeopaths studying the sensation method, we tried to express the basic sensation after each C-level in order to better grasp this often hidden aspect of the remedy picture. This is why you will find the sensation at the end of the contribution of each participant. If the quality of the sensation was expressed in a gesture, then this is mentioned as well.
To learn about the process of a C4-homeopathic trituration I refer to my website www.m-in-n.com.
There is a longing, a desire, a yearning. Something enchanting is calling me, not loud, not obviously. Something is attracting me. A woman letting me see a little bit of her exposed breast, as if by coincidence, yet still intentionally. A hush of a smile, a whiff of a smell of a flower, of a sensuous perfume. She is not even looking at me, I do not know if she is aware of my stare, of the hunger, the desire she evoked in me.
I fall for her, attracted like a moth to a candle flame. Enchanted. I want to sink into the arms of this woman, I want to disappear in her. I feel like I’m drugged. Drugged by my own desire, which gets me out of my mind. I can’t think straight anymore. I would leave my wife and my children for that woman, for that promise to completely expand into a cloud of sensuality, into a colourful fragrance.
The German myth of the Loreley comes to mind: Her singing, her golden hair, her body hardly hidden, seduces the fisherman to go with his boat in dangerous currents and perish on the rocks.
A promise of blissful fulfillment is stimulating my body, my soul. Being with this woman must be like being enlightened, it is not about sex, it is the highest bliss, physical and spiritual.
I am intoxicated. I am losing control over myself, there is no reason, no willpower in this body of mine anymore. Reality does not matter. The crying of my hungry children, the tears in my wife’s eyes, they do not reach me, do not touch me. I only see this treacherous yet overpowering image, this otherworldly elf, this nymph, that took my soul away. It is like an eddy, a whirling vortex of bliss that sucks me in. I have no resistance. Being reasonable, thinking clearly would be like cutting out the most precious part of who I am.
I am intoxicated with a magic potion, caught in utmost beauty and I am ready to surrender to it. And if this body should be ruined afterwards, if my soul should be insane, if I should wander the streets in rags, it is all worth it. I am willing to give myself up. It feels as if I will find what I am thirsty for deep in my soul. If someone would tell me, it is poison and if I drink it, I would die, I would drink twice as much, to make sure I would never wake up. I feel bewitched; I am a victim of this fascination. I also can feel the arrogance on the other side but I block it out.
The overall sensation in this C1 is one of letting go of myself in a whirling eddy, in colours yellow and orange; I am twisting, sinking and disappearing in complete bliss.
Female genitalia, folds of skin beckoning. Sexual liaisons, affairs, one night stands. Intoxicating attraction. Many suitors swirling, buzzing around the princess, hoping to be chosen to be the one who finds what lies beneath her finery.
There is an outer life and an inner life divided. The princess is loath to give herself up, because she knows she will wither with each baby. I have images of silky hair flowing, insects caught in the honey exuding from it. I heard the sound of something under the earth. The image was Mother Earth groaning with giving life; groaning because all of them will die and she will give birth again. There was a lot about dying. The palliative of the dying is the birthing. Something falls off with the ripening. It was so pretty, now disfigured. I had a feeling of disgust and contempt along with this arrogance that had been already mentioned. Dancing little people, they laugh because they live so long. They laugh in your face.
There is a rivalry about who is the best among the babies. There is a feeling of royalty in the life of the princess and then the underside of it, the life of the servants and the life of the rest of the household. Under her royal finery the servants are doing the dirty work. The princess escapes to the simple life of the kitchen until she comes of age. The life cycle is inevitable, there is no way out of it. But her finery is no compensation for what she endures to carry along the procession of heirs.
Also had a feeling of seduction, of promiscuity, without taking part in procreation. An animal like sensation of competition and jealousy. Infertility is a blessing.
And then I was in an orange room inside the lower. The sensation was one of drawing down, something pulls you down, you are lured in, and down you go inside the flower; it’s orange in colour; like the house, the living space is hidden from the front.
My head swivels from side to side. Coughing and a thick feeling in the back of the throat. I am aware of my throat and esophagus. I felt pressure on my head and my forehead.
I have the image of a woman with hunter boots and a hat, she is on a safari. I got this feeling, it would be very nice to relax in a spa. Yesterday I had been bitten by mosquitoes and I have been scratching a lot. Today I have no itching at all. I find that strange. Then I felt heavy, almost like intoxicated after wine. I am very sensually aroused. All my senses are on high alert, visual, touch, hearing, smell. I heard music, very soothing harp music. I felt like being located in some fairyland, there were no worries. Even the food was served on a velvety cloth, silky velvety. There was a pleasant fruity aroma in the air.
In the end I had this song of the movie Junglebook in my mind, where this girl sings and she is enticing the boy and the bear Balu says: “He is hooked now.” And when she drops the water, then the boy is running and he is like in this intoxicated state.
In the beginning it was strange, I heard screaming, a high pitched screaming. I felt really tight. Then I heard an enchanting, mystical music. I got this feeling of wanting to hide, I did not want to be seen. Then I had visions of really beautiful women, vicious and sexy, and I’ve seen all the different parts of a woman.
I got the feeling of having no control. I am beautiful but I am having no control, or even being controlled by the wind. “I can tell you everything but teach you nothing.”
Then there was a dinner party with a vase of orchids. Everybody was feeling drawn to the orchids, but when you walked away from the orchid, I had the feeling of the orchids judging you. Then I had the image of a geisha, elegant, amazingly beautiful, being so attractive but having a dark, a very dark side. A lot of sexual stuff: trapping, a brothel, they lure you in, they get you.
Then it was like the energy is taking me deep, deep down into the earth, the physical and the energetic root going together. Then I felt numb, hopeless. We really don’t get it. I felt like a victim. I saw Jesus on a cross. I saw the world and the planet, the poverty and the oil spill. I get this mothering feeling and ask: Why are we bringing children into the world? I realize the spoiling of our physical being with each child we bring into the world, how our physicality is broken.
The sensation was dark, hopeless. Deception. I keep seeing the whores, the big boobs, the brothel, it’s all about luring in.
Eyes itchy. I felt really cold.
Play – let’s play!
Music of the spheres. She sings, I am choking. I have a sharp pain at the right temple, piercing. Train whistles are blowing, metal tracks, metal on metal. Then I hear: “I am Calypso. Come with me. I have secrets to share. Come, know me as I know you . I know your desires – speak them to me. Your longings are my longings … Give them to me.”
“But I will get lost!”
“I will find you. I will always find you. For you are in me and I am in you …Slower now: Touch me. Caress me.
Every cell within me trembles and vibrates with your touch, gentle and slow. Stay with me now. Remove your rings! There is only us. You and I in the place of secrets, desires and longings. Rest now, sleep!”
The bowl itself becomes pulsating and hypnotic. (I manage to spill on myself with every scraping like inevitable fairy dust!)
I imagine passing on to my granddaughter the miracle of trituration, the secrets of life. Secrets that until now have rested in the dark and are now ready to enter the light. This is my thought and Calypso says to write it, she approves. “I walk with your granddaughter. I choose who I walk with. Not all can hear my call. Young girls will hear my call. They are turning to my call. It is a knowing that is mistaken for seduction … Come, know yourself in me. I will reveal.”
At this time in the trituration I am in the spell, I take off my rings. It is very hard, they are in my heart, they mean a lot to me.
“Stay – with me only. If you leave, I will die. Who will know me, if you are not here? I will forever call to you but you will never find me. For you could only find yourself in me …And now you are as lost to me. I will find another.”
Sensation: Enthralled, hypnotized. It feels like a vertigo, a dizziness, spiraling down counter clockwise.
Gesture: a counter clockwise circling of the upper body when sitting, a gentle rocking, lulling to sleep, welcoming. It is rest, ease. As if saying: Come into me!
I have the sensation of spiraling downward infinitely. But I do not really want to go down, it’s gonna be very mucky and very bad at the bottom. I do not want to see what there is to see for me at the ultimate point of this downward spiral. I am thinking I should stop it but I can’t really stop it. So I try to stop it because I do not want to reach the bottom because it is not gonna be good. I am not gonna want to see it. Then I am trying to be distracted from what this was leading to. So I was thinking about eating bacon and eggs or a bacon and tomato sandwich and devouring it. I am devouring this food to feed the babies in my belly and then vomit.
There was a cold, restless, very uncomfortable feeling in my body. Together with that was an out-of-it, an intoxication feeling. I became aware of my mouth and my lips and my belly. And then there was this image of planting my feet near the water so I am nourished and I’m in the dirt delicately but firmly to get my needed nutrients.
Then I felt cramping like menstrual cramps and that’s odd because I no longer menstruate. I was bloated as if my period was coming. And then there were insects and ladybugs and fireflies and the feeling of: Who is the best? And then boredom. I feel like being in sixth month pregnancy and bored and I don’t care anymore. A feeling of a baby that doesn’t want to be born, holds his breath, comes out red like burnt with salt, the way they used to abort babies in the second trimester, burnt them with salt, forced the baby out. Get rid of it, you’ll never be a mother now! Your uterus is turned inside out, broken. Parasites suck out the life and give back only their shit. I have this terrible heaviness of my head, I lay it on the table.
And then there was this feeling, which is all centered around the uterus: besieged, forgotten, left to rot, worms taking my flesh to a quick end, my body becomes a skeleton consumed by my deliveries. Ashes to ashes, dust to dust. Leaving the earth now, taken by the cancer in my belly after the babies could no longer live there and the worms took over. The shit leaked into my vagina and uterus, porous, full of holes, tearing like parchment. I am loathing this female existence that ends in such a bitter destruction. I am undone by my cunt. I should have been sown up at birth and dedicated to a monastic life, kept away from the sins of the world. I let them enter into my body and I am ruined.
I feel myself sucked in, spiraling downward, reluctantly. I am floating in the dark. I am resisting. I am pushing out spikes with tiny little hooks and barbs to keep myself from being sucked in, from being washed away from the current. I try to keep control. With my teeth clenched firmly I try to keep a clear mind, I drink tea and coffee in order to keep my cool, in order not to be swept away. Wherever this current wants to take me, I do not want to go there. I do not feel anything. It is empty here. I feel very mental. I am cold, analytical, planning, untouchable. I am in control, I am focused, I know what I want. Strong will power. I am not affected by anyone trying to lure me in. I am cold, calculating, harsh. I am bored. If someone would tell me about beauty, I would analyze the structure of this beauty, I would be able to describe it but not to feel it. I want to get it over with.
I am very alert and watchful. Is anybody gonna lure my woman? I am cold for any attraction, insensitive to any sensuality. Sharp: Fuck you! I am willing to cut, to hurt. The image that my partner would fall in love with somebody else, makes me ice cold. No feelings. I want to cut, to cut things apart, to cut beauty apart, to cut clean through a flower of an orchid. A clear clean cut, without much effort, with a precision and an elegance of a surgeon’s scalpel.
The sensation is the desire to stay in control. Desire to cut with an extremely sharp instrument, like a scalpel. Ice cold. Gesture: Holding a scalpel and cutting an orchid flower diagonally apart.
Cold, still silence. I wait for you, Calypso.
“I am here. They laugh, they scorn, they ridicule. They do not know. I also suffer.
How is it that I come to know your longings, desires and secrets? It is because I too suffer. I suffer with the longing to be at one. Fools! You mistake my longing for oneness with fornication. That you can leave for the animals … What I offer is far beyond that but still You cannot hear. You mistake siren’s sound for death. It is in your mortal death that you can even come close to my knowing. Go away from me!
I will sing a happy tune in your absence. Choose suffering or choose death! I offer life…
Listen! I am yours and you are mine. If you would know this, you would not disdain my lessons in your life.
Enter the darkness of desires, I will show you the way.
We are one now … Deeper into the darkness. Do not disdain the odour, the stink, the rot. It is all fertile – rot brings forth life and growth. Do not turn away from the stench. Now – put your nose to it …
I am here, do not be afraid, I know the stench. I have come to love the stench, it brings forth life. I receive the stench. I transform the stench. Smell it: It is the waste of humanity.
It is enough to stay with me. Rest!
Can you hear that? Listen!”
“What is it, Calypso?”
“It is the sound of weeping. Can you not recognize the weeping of your own children?”“Yes, I hear it now. I cannot help them. I have never been able to help their sorrows.” “Give them to me! Come to me and I can give comfort – solace from the sorrow. Bring them to me! All the sadness, all the suffering … I will hold them in my womb. The scraping of the womb, the fetus dead. Stench and death and rot carried in the womb – only Calypso can cure.”
My stomach feels bloated, gassy, my abdomen is swollen. “I can abort the stench, expel the rot. Leave me to do my work. I am one with the woman, the men can live with their lust. Men lust while their women suffer. It is not me who seduces but they who are seduced. I care not for their attentions while the women suffer. Can they not hear the weeping and wailing of those whom I love and care for as my own? My seduction is nothing but lust turned inward – you seek what you cannot find. Enter me and I will show you the folly of your ways. I will not be disregarded nor ignored. And betray me at your own peril. I will not suffer to be scorned.”
She sings her siren song in three part harmony. I have a heaving sensation in my chest as if ready to explode in anger.
“Do you have a message for men?”
“They are easy – too easily led by beauty.
Bring them to me and I will show them what it is to be swallowed whole and then spit out – rejected for such foolishness. They will learn and they will know. Come to me and I will show you the suffering of women.”
“I am your friend. I am the great revealer of all that is now hidden to you. I am your liberator and your doorway to the mysteries of life, of birth and of death. I am the great womb. Others have come before me but now my mysteries are being revealed. Come to me. Scrape all you want – in the womb, in the bowl …. you cannot scrape away who I am.
Now enter into and feel my velvet lining … Here is where life is safe: fed, clothed, watered. What need do you have of these while you are with me and in me … I give you everything and all: I feed you, I nourish you, I protect you. Come stay with me a while and rest. Soon enough there will be pain and suffering and struggle.
For now abide with me. I will soften the weeping and wailing – keep your ears in velvet softness. Hush now … Now I will touch you and caress you until every cell within you vibrates and pulses with the blood of my blood.”
My hand is cramping. My head and face is numb and tingling. It is a light-headed feeling with a bit of nausea.. The sensation is pulsating, floating, womb-like, carried on a wave and rocked gently.
I really had a feeling of intoxication. It was bizarre.
I had this image of a young woman in a white flowing dress, her hair was wavy, dancing in a lush green field. Then I had the feeling of her being swept away, being raped. “Just because I am beautiful does not mean, I want to be touched by you or even have you inside me.” Then I heard Calypso say to the man: “She is yours. You can have her.”
I have been very chilly, especially on my feet. I also have been very sleepy. It was a laborious task not to let my eyelids drop. I was totally devoid of energy. I am feeling mentally and physically worn down. I believe that my turn is over. I can’t get my thoughts together. I experience a drooping of energy. I just want to curl up and lie down. I want to feel cozy.
The sensation was a drooping and draining sensation, as if the body is depleted of fluids like a dehydration. Almost as if seminal fluids have been drained out and left me depleted, collapsed. And also a little ashamed with it.
There was a feeling of acceptance of seeing the juxtaposition of suffering with innocence. I saw butterflies entertaining children at the fence of Auschwitz. There was a scene of children enjoying the mangoes under a mango tree, and they did not know that their grandmother was dying of cancer and that her mom had found a new boyfriend and worked downtown in her small red dress. And the mango and the heat and the promise of grandma’s best fish supper is all there is. Daddy did not come here, he knows that uncle would chase him away. Little girls should not lift their skirts around daddies.
Living in a female body on this plane, one is bound to make sacrifices. Flesh gives way to flesh so it can continue. I think it otherwise or drug myself or opt out of the gene pool. In whispers the ancestors said:
“Live as this Calypso flower so that they may be around as teachers for this experience. And we toil because we cannot accept the facts and think, we should not suffer.” Only thinking makes it so. The birds watch and sing whether their mating results in babies or not. Just keep on mating. Detach body from soul, if you must, to get it done. Covered with snow there is no sorrow in it; only waiting for death or another season. No need for seduction now because it is complete.
“But what if I am hungry for it?” – “Then it will be yours for pleasure. Pain and suffering can now be avoided. If you keep the body free of disease, which you cannot do entirely. Ha, got you!! You thought, you could just relax and have fun! Chlamydia, gonorrhoea, syphilis, herpes and all live in your playground! Wrap it up, babe! “
Then there was a more peaceful feeling. The knees of the fetus being drawn up comfortably in the womb. Bliss walking in the delivery room, and then they begin their torture with their poor technology for birthing. But I can watch it now. Part of earning my way to freedom. One birth at a time, I paid all back! If this one is hard, maybe I get bonus marks and ‘E’ for effort. And I keep on and on.
The sensation was this peace amid violence and an acceptance seeing the suffering resigned to it. Play when you can! Play safe, or it will bite you. But then it all goes faster and it is over sooner, the cycle of life and death.
I felt more at peace.
I had a shuddering sensation throughout my body. Hearing: everything is too loud, even the softest sounds. There is too much noise, every sound is amplified, especially soft noises. There is trembling of my head, as if a slight shaking saying ‘no’. It is a palsy kind of shake and trembling like in an elderly, aged, withered woman. Am reminded of Katherine Hepburn in her last years. My eyelids are sleepy and droopy. I want to lie in the sun and cool, the perfect temperature for me would be the feet in the dark and cool and the warm light on my face. I am yawning. My right ear got sore. My body was separating from my will, it felt like a disassociation.
I had heat in my face as if flushed from working in the sun.
Then I had an image of a woman stepping out of herself in a new form, like being reborn and free. She isbirthing herself by shedding the old skin, the old self. My head hurts.
Then I am counting down: 3×3=9. Trimester x trimester. C1, C2, C3. One third, one third, one third. Each trituration level a gestation of 9. 9 is a magical number. During the whole fourth round I was in a deep meditative state. I felt disembodied. I felt reluctant and it was hard to come back into my body. It was as if I had no body, I was here and not here. Coming out of that I felt indifferent to everyone else as persons or humans. No emotions, no thoughts. Etherically I was somewhere else, even though all my senses were intact. What we are doing is without meaning in this state.