A Week in the Desert

And no, I am not referring to Burning Man…

 

Practicum: ‘a course of study for teachers, doctors, nurses, etc., that involves actually working in the area of study and using the knowledge and skills that have been learned in a school’

 

Just before graduation, I had ‘Practicum’ – one week in Palm Springs of intense ‘processing.’ From DAY 1, I felt complete resistance. Quite honestly, I wanted to press a fast forward button and for the week to be over. Pre Practicum I was on great form and having loads of fun! I have worked hard over the last two years and felt like I had deeply covered my internal material. I didn’t want to keep dredging up more!

 

Between our last class in June and this culminating week at the end of August, many of my classmates felt desperate for the Practicum experience which had the feeling of promise to ‘set ourselves free’ as it were. But like I say, I felt great within despite the unsettling news about not getting the one year visa extension.

 

Practicum reminded me of Christian camps that my Mum forced me to go to in my late teens, early 20’s. A large group of people, trapped in one place, committed to positive transformation and, at times what felt like to me, an alarming undercurrent of inauthenticity at the determination to receive it. At the core I am a cynical Brit.

 

I did manage to break through my resistance, and I did have powerful releases, but it was uncomfortable and I still didn’t want to be there.

 

I was not feeling the swell of Love and Light in my heart. I did not feel complete. I felt shaken up and left questioning everything. Questioning, do I want to be a Life Coach? Do I ‘fit in’ to this Love & Light community? I was shocked to be feeling this way. I have not questioned this course for two years, I have found it to be very fulfilling,  healing and to be honest, quite straightforward. I had friends that repeatedly wanted to quit throughout the two years because they found it challenging. I never experienced that resistance to the ‘work,’ until that is, the final week!

 

When the week was over, I was relieved to be home, but feeling highly agitated. This was further impacted by misjudging a small alley way and mounting a high curb at speed and thwacking my car in West Hollywood just as I was arriving home. This culminated in $300 bill for two new tyres. In a fury, I paced up Runyon Canyon and called my G&T friend to offload about the last week.

 

Just to further f**k me off, I had also planned to meet ‘a friend’ that evening, who had not messaged me to make a plan and I was so fuming at this continued lack of awareness and respect for my time it was enough to send me over the edge (said figuratively, I was not about to jump off any cliffs in the canyon.) Fortunately it was nothing a bottle of rose, a smoke and further rants to several girlfriends until about 1am could not fix. Dare I say it, sometimes this really is the best form of healing.

 

As you can imagine, the following day, I did not feel enlightened or pure, but I did feel a hell of a lot more relaxed in the pleasant hazy aftermath of a subtle hangover !

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