The theatrical play "Imitation of Life" by Kornél Mundruczó was on stage these days in Athens. Yesterday night I was among the spectators. In reality, I felt more like a witness and not a spectator. The realistic scenery in front of our eyes was filled with raw life events. Several crimes took place in that little house. Violence, cruelty, hate, alienation, racism, loneliness...
The house turning upside down on the stage created shaky vibes in the theatre. It reminded me of the earthquake. The trembling earth is above our human control. We surrender to its power and pray for peace. But what happens when the earthquake is a private event?
The moment we experience the emotional turmoil of depression our heart is transformed into shaking soil. Collapsing steps and sweaty hands of a wobbly body ready to surrender to human suffering. The most horrible crime arises, when we feel imprisoned in a ruined house. The ceiling is heavy on our head and the floor becomes fragile under our feet.
Trapped in the fusty odor we actually believe that there is no way out. Being suffocated behind sealed windows we actually persuade ourselves that there is nothing out there. Our faith that the ruins inside are scattered in the outside world give to our emotional earthquake huge dimensions.
I have witnessed people with demolished internal houses in my private practice as a therapist and in my personal life. I always admire and feel deep respect for these survivors, who managed to reorganize their assets (either a room or a mansion) after experiencing a destruction.
Their resilience is such a beautiful decoration.
It makes their house so inviting, ready to host fellow guests.
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