Tuesday afternoon: my new group is coming. I am the leader now, very alone. Am I good enough? And who expects me to be that good? "You top dog, sit quietly now, I am not going to have any arguments with you today. I want to be in full contact with these people." Top dog, the part within us which is always making demands, takes his place under the chair, hiding for a while. He can be controlled, thank heavens -- no, thanks to me. I can control. I am responsible.
We have a long red room. The curtains are orange-red, and the afternoon sun shines through the western windows, coloring the room in warm red. The ceiling is made of large squares, white and gray, and some of the light bulbs are missing. I never look at the ceiling unless the group is silent and I withdraw. We learn that silence is acceptable and more worthwhile than small talk. A large picture hangs on the wall. Ruth says it looks like vegetable soup, Yuval says it is paradise, and Orit says it does not mean a thing. We are all different and unique.
Sometimes we are out on the grass or at home. We play Alice in Wonderland. Explore your wonderland, Alice; what do you find? We play being blind, letting another be our guide. We learn to trust. We make things of clay; we imagine, we play -- now be the inverted tower that you have made or the wild horse. "Lose your mind and come to your senses." "Be in the moment." "Stay with it, don't push."
The group is a serious thing. People work here; work and games are not that different. I am sad and glad, playful and serious-these are all my parts. Can I put the puzzle together?