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Letter and Poem by Course Participant
"I went to 'Awakening to Joy', a Healing Clown workshop run by Sacred Clown healer Rachel Caine, who performs in hospital in Ibiza and in the prison too. Healing through laughter and joy and rediscovering the "inner child" through play is what Rachel does. And it works. I am 67, had an appaling childhood and years of obese related illness, finally resulting in sixteen years of ME and chronic depression. The illness didn't kill me but brought on diabetes and eighteen months of angina followed by a three hour heart attack. After a triple bypass in Papworth Hospital during which I died three times, the ME and chronic depression were miraculously cured - but there was still a lot of inner pain, linked to and caused by the unhappy childhood. I had spent a lot of time and money on every kind of treatment for this problem without much success. A valuable and caring friend here put me down for the Healing Clown course. As someone with not much to laugh about in my life, I went thinking that if they can make me laugh, it will be another miracle. A week later, I was still smiling inside and out for the first time in about 60 years. After so much illness, I still haven't regained my strength and at the end of the morning session needed a rest. Rachel had me lie down alongside the group. What happened next is written in the attached poem. The release of so much inner pain through them making me laugh, and giving so much love, was a profound experience, that was far more effective than all the help given to me in hospitals, clinics and the multitude of healers that I went to in the past.
Rachel is not out to get rich quick, or provide yet another "magic bullet". In the hospitals, prisons and old folks' homes, where human pain and suffering can make life unbearable, Rachel, our advocate for laughter, must get as much support as she needs. It only takes time, love, permission and a red nose. Not much to ask" Peter Grant
CLOWNING The cheeky faces peered at me, flowers, colours, smiles. Gently wrapped in paper bandages - going on for miles. Begowned with stethoscopes, water and a saw, They 'operated' on my wounds, as I lay on the floor. Four of them, with twinkly eyes, and smiles so full of joy, Without a word, but giggling, made me their loving toy, With gentle touch, caresses too, their fingers found my heart, And from that heart came tears and smiles healing every part. They babied me, they gave such love my pain dissolved away. Playfully
like children, we had a magic day."
Peter Grant
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