a living. When she told me that she was a psychologist like myself, I wanted to learn more about the way she worked and what ‘school’ she belonged to. ‘Biosynthesis’ was her answer. It was the first time I had heard of this type of psychotherapy and I bombarded her with questions about it. When she mentioned the term ‘body psychotherapy’, at first I misunderstood her. ‘Do you mean that you touch each other?’ ‘Yes,’ she replied, as if it were a perfectly natural question to ask. Then I made my next quip, with a slight note of sarcasm: ‘Do you even hug each other?’ ‘Of course’, she replied, silencing me with the simplicity and guilelessness of someone who knows what they are saying and what they are doing. I thought, then spontaneously muttered to myself, ‘It reminds me of those cheap TV shows where they pretend to know everything.’ Yet this quiet, unassuming woman did not seem like the kind of person who would appear on such a show. Meanwhile, the programme I had been invited to went well, despite my crass behaviour.
A few days before this providential encounter I had been in Athens and I had bought a book that I almost finished in one go at the airport and on the plane on my way home to Cyprus. It was Waking the Tiger by Peter Levine. From the very start I had felt that the book was speaking to me personally.
Not long after the programme and studying Waking the Tiger, for the first time, guided only by Levine’s simple yet superb book, I intuitively observed the body of a young female patient of mine who had been the victim of a rape attempt. I was struck by the way the body was organising itself to deal with the attack: how, with a little support, her fear and tightness turned into a looseness and a resolve to defend her boundaries. A new world was opening up before me. I was excited by what I had seen… I felt like a young child who has ventured out of its village for the first time. That evening, at home, apart from expressing my excitement, I told my wife that I wanted to find out more. After re-reading Levine’s book, I realised that it had been edited and introduced by Lily Anagnostopoulou, director of the Greek Biosynthesis Center. The name seemed familiar but I wanted to confirm it. I rang the TV station whose programme I had appeared on and learned that the unassuming woman who had spoken to me about biosynthesis and body psychotherapy was indeed the director of the Biosynthesis Center in Greece. I found out the relevant telephone numbers and addresses and phoned the Center straightaway. At the other end of the line was the same calm voice:
Yes, soon we’re going to hold a two-day seminar entitled ‘Healing Trauma’, which will also provide an opportunity for people who want to practise body psychotherapy to learn about the educational programme we offer on biosynthesis. Do come and see if it suits you.
I must admit that, in my enthusiasm, I failed to appreciate the subtle irony of the situation.
I did indeed go and… I stayed.
The story of how I became acquainted with Lily, bioynthesis, body psychotherapy and the techniques of holding and hugging was to be a private joke between us for the next few years. I left Palaion Patron Germanou 49 (the address of my home in Cyprus) and at Palaion Patron Germanou 10 (the address of the Biosynthesis Center in Athens*) I learned a new truth which I always try to keep as a guiding light in my life: ‘Be open, therefore. Be OPEN. Don't close off the possibility of new truth because you have been comfortable with an old one. Life begins at the end of your comfort zone.’2
Yes, it is exciting to live at the end of your comfort zone. At the age of 50, under Lily’s guidance – and here I would like to thank Lily for all the things she taught me with such love and patience –, and with the help of a very strong group of therapists and patients – whom I would also like to thank as I gained something from all of them – and through the inspired work of David Boadella, I discovered biosynthesis. And through biosynthesis I gained a knowledge of the body as it has been handed down to us by the father of all forms of body therapy, the scientist, visionary, humanitarian and eternally young activist Wilhelm Reich. I discovered, then, that I did not know my body as well as I know it now.
The current address of the Biosynthesis Center in Athens is: 13 Stratarchou Papagou, Halandri
* The current address of the Biosynthesis Center in Athens is: 13 Stratarchou Papagou, Halandri
2. Neale Donald Walsch, Conversations with God, Book 3: Embracing the Love of the Universe, Charlottesville, Hampton Roads Publishing, 2012, p. 100.
CHAPTER 1
TO THE BODY THERAPIST
One of my patients, whom I shall call C. D., is thirty years old. He’s been coming for treatment for several months now. He first sought my help because he had been having panic attacks and experiencing severe stress and also discomfort in crowded situations, particularly with people he did not know. He is convinced that if he finds himself in such a situation, he will feel the need to get up and leave, and if that is not easy or possible, he will panic. He once told me:
If I know them and I know that they like me or at least I feel that they accept me, there’s no problem. I always liked to know that they wanted to keep company with me.
This is one of the reasons why C. D. spends quite a lot of money when he gets together with friends. He often pays their share of the bill too. Would it be cruel to tell him that he is buying their friendship? And yet the truth is that, in a way, he is paying them to accept him as a friend.
This is part of the dialogue that took place between us in our first therapy session together:
V. Ch.: You don’t know me either. Ask yourself then: how do you feel at the moment, in this particular situation?
C. D.: I’m not sure… What I can say is that I don’t feel very comfortable. I feel anxious… I think.
V. Ch.: Any idea what makes you feel anxious?
C. D.: The fact that I’m here… I suppose that must be it. I don’t know you…
V. Ch.: How does that anxiety express itself in your body?
C. D.: I’m trying very hard not to make any mistakes.
V. Ch.: What kind of mistake do you think you’re so afraid of making here?
C. D.: I don’t know. I’m always like that, I’m always trying to control everything.
V. Ch.: Do you succeed? Do you manage to control everything?
C. D.: No, I know it’s impossible but there’s nothing I can do to change the way I think. I’ve even taken antidepressants but it was just the same.
V. Ch.: Now let’s turn to your body. How do you feel in your body at this moment?
C. D.: I feel a bit better. I’ve felt different since the beginning of the session, I think, because you told me to sit down as comfortably as possible and at a distance I felt comfortable with. I had a pain in my stomach and my breathing was high in my chest. At one point I felt dizzy. Now I don’t feel dizzy.
V. Ch.: Do you often feel this dizziness?
C. D.: With my father, especially when I have to face him to sort out a disagreement. We work together in the same family business, you know. When I’m with him I literally get short of breath. For years now my pulse rate has been constantly over 110 and my blood pressure 14/9 and even higher. And now I have tachycardia… My hands are cold and sweaty.
V. Ch.: How does your body feel now that you are less anxious?
C. D.: It’s better, although I feel sad.
V.
