| Sharings 2003 Dear
Friends, To all of you who made it possible that the
auschwitz peacemaker retreat took place. with this letter i would like
to tell you what i lived in the auschwitz-retreat,at least some aspects
of it. first of all thank you very much for all the work you have done,
for the presence of all of you during the retreat - so many hours a day.
i can really appriciate it i am not a holocaust survivor, nor did i knew
anybody personaly who was deported or died there before being with the
group. but something inside of me tells me that i have to go to auschwitz.
i believe it has to do with dealing with my inner war. to go through a
deep emotional process in order to "come through" to more life
or peace or love inside of me, so that by this way more life and love
can irradiate in what i have to live in my daily life. it is a big gift
to be in auschwitz with the peacemaker-group - to receive the sharing
of all the people and of holocaust survivors. it was very good to sit
in silence with you all, to read names - the simple profound buddhist
services - the kaddish and the singing in the barracks. i feel graritude
that i could participate. and i will not forget many sometimes little
moments i was given to live with many people. moments which opened my
heart. but inside of me there is a big need to be heard on another level.
i understand now that for me this cannot be in a big group, even if sometimes
the groups are smaller (little group council) the place where i felt heard
was marian`drawings, where i could feel an expression of a level which
cannot be expressed in words, and i felt heard by fleet the evening we
met in the pavillon for expressing "difficulties".
The
retreat Dearest beloved Friends and fellow Journeyers, It’s so hard to put into words how I feel after Auschwitz-Birkenau. I’ve been home one week and feel an oppressive weight inside. I feel so detached from my world. I haven’t talked much about Poland; it doesn’t seem to want to emerge from my depths. Yet I want to share. Where to begin? Let me follow the council rule – TALK ONLY FROM THE HEART. OK heart …I feel longing. Longing for our circle of caring hearts that drew close for five wintry days under the grey skies of Auschwitz/Oswecim, which, remarkably and significantly, revealed to us the most beautiful, complete and inspiring rainbow I have ever seen, just as we entered the Birkenau death camp. After a morning spent at the Auschwitz Museum witnessing one of mankind’s darkest cruelest times, we entered Birkenau – ‘place of the Birch trees’ and Zyklon B and deaths of millions – where we would spend the next four days. Just then, we were sent a message: a rainbow, a symbol of hope, just days after we read the Chapter of Noah in the Torah reading at synagogue. Auschwitz-Birkenau today is not a place of darkness but a place of hope. It takes darkness to reveal light. I felt in Auschwitz such a light, a grace, a promise of a better future if we remember the past, remember the cruelty that arises from hatred, from disconnecting from feeling and from caring about other human beings. So Auschwitz for me was feeling. Feeling the pain of those murdered, torn from their lives and families. Feeling my pain, my pain as a Jew, carrying the wounds of thousands of years of hatred and persecution. I didn’t realize I had so much Jewish pain. I thought I was just angry with my father. Or the nasty girls in my bunk at summer camp. I went to Auschwitz to go into my pain, to “plunge” into the darkness inside which I have spent a lifetime escaping. I recently discovered that I have been running from feeling. I kept myself so busy doing, “accomplishing,” aspiring, regretting, projecting, thinking – that I lost myself. I operated from the throat up and lost touch with my heart, because my heart was filled with so much pain it was too frightening to really feel. So I went to Auschwitz to feel the pain. What better place to encounter pain and suffering than Auschwitz? And I encountered the pain in my heart. And the pain, concern and love in the hearts of the other participants who came to Auschwitz for their own reasons. And I opened my heart to them. And then I was able to open my heart to God, the ultimate light. It’s been really hard to return to mundane life after Auschwitz. It’s great to see the kids, the husband. I really love them. But the daily grind: the chores, the appointments, the business commitments – I feel like an automaton, doing what I need to do, but something is missing. My open heart, that’s what is missing. In Auschwitz we plunged into the pain, I entered into my broken heart and stayed there the entire retreat. I cried from my broken heart, I mourned from my broken heart, I listened from my broken heart, I understood from my broken heart, I loved, I sang and even laughed from my broken, now healing heart. For good measure I then fell on my head (for those present late Friday night). So how do I keep my heart open when all around me are closing theirs? Adinah my holy sister has told me to turn every question, or every should statement (“I should do this or that”) into a prayer, so… May the One who created my heart give me the courage and strength to keep it open and loving even when the enviroment is less than supportive and may I always be one with my feelings and sensitive to the feelings of others. May all you dear friends, be blessed with maintaining your open and loving hearts, and may we continue to love and support each other as we did for five wintry days in Auschwitz. Thank you all so much for making this retreat so profound and meaningful. Thanks especially to the organizers and facilitators. I miss you all very much. A giant hug to you all. And thank you all for your thoughtful emails and wonderful stories. Lots of love, GENINE Dear
Andrzej and Friends,
I still think of our time at Auschwitz
often; it has simply become a part of me. Even after the perspective of
a year gone by, it still remains the most profound experience of my life. It seems such a long time since
November 18th when I arrived home. It's only been two weeks. There have
been times of sadness and confusion and times that were so sweet and joyful.
Thinking of our time together in Poland brings up many of these feelings.
They also seem to come unexpectedly and are not really "about the
retreat". But I think they are products of the retreat experience,
unclear and chaotic as it sometimes was for me. Now I'm trying to settle
into not knowing what's happening and be at ease with that. |