28th Birthday

On January 27th, a Sunday 28 years ago a desperate father was driving in his car through the evening traffic to get to the hospital in Loerrach. His wife in labor on the back seat.
Tuuuuuuuut tuuuuuuuuut, honking the horn, shouting to the traffic police: “my wife gets a baby. Let me through!”
The top of the head is already starting to become visible, the water is out, squeaking breaks, the car is stopping at the ambulance entrance, people rush out, put the woman on a stretcher.
At around 6.30 pm with the ringing of the bells of a church close by and slow soft snowflakes gently falling down a little girl is born.

Juliana Elizabeth Maria

This is the story I get to hear every year at my birthday. It seems in the end I was a bit in a hurry to enter this world.
I was the first born of my father, becoming the oldest of 4 children; and the second born of my mother, admiring my 12-year-old half sister like the best thing ever.

28 Years later, its again a Sunday, a warm sunny day in England, East Sussex, Forest Row, Emerson College.
I wake up with the smell of pancakes and a happy birthday song in dutch.
Aite, a swiss/dutch girl from Basel, who is also doing the course “the now of Storytelling” prepared the most amazing birthday breakfast for me. Raspberries, Fruits with yoghurt, orange juice, hot chocolate, Coconut juice. Heaven.
We listen to some great Ethiopian music while oralgasminging the breakfast. I open a package of my Dad and find 2 great books, 2 packages of Dave, one with the requested sage and the other one my birthday present – some wild rose oil and 2 great cards, Charly Chaplin and a heart, I have to admit I am romantic sometimes, so I melt into this memory. ;-) There is also a letter from my aunt Heidi a card from Aite and one from Marc from our course. I am so touched.
Sharing great stories and then taking of to a walk through the forest. Taking many pictures, seeing doves, listening to the birds. Following her with my eyes closed. Being seated on a wooden chair – still my eyes closed and a voice invites me to look at my kingdom – my life, being the beautiful queen on a throne looking on all the things that I have achieved and experienced so far, telling me that from now on I will be able to get to this place my self and wount need her anymore to show me. I open my eyes and a beautiful world, trees, grass; sunlight… is in front of me. The wind is blowing , striking my cheek, reminding me of whose sister I am.
Arriving at the college I listen to the beautiful tune of a guitar, played by Keenan, a secret friend here at the college from the USA doing the teacher training.
People start to come bye and pass their birthday greetings and wishes.
I enter my room, drop my bag, look around, go to the toilet, look again – something is different in my room and I look up: colorful balloons on the ceiling and a beautiful mobilee. 2 felted Butterflies and branches from a tree. Tal. It must be her, my special new friend from Israel. I go to check my emails. Greetings from Annie, Mom and Dad.
The email of my Mom starts very weird. It takes some seconds until I realize that she is quoting a letter I have received. “Dear Juliana, we would like to inform you that we will grant you 2000 euro to support your tuition fee for the storytelling course…”
I cannot believe it. I read it again. I haven’t heard from the Iona Stichting for a month, and now for my birthday this message. The letter is dated on January 16th. My Mom is great to keeping it for this day. I rush out to find someone to tell about it. I find Lara the girl who is doing trapeze here and has inspired me to do acrobalance with many people here at the college. I meet some more people. More birthday hugs and kisses.
I go for a walk with Jessica, an English girl converted to Islam. The air is full of spring. We come to a ruin of a land house. We sneak through the gate.
It amazing to think that people really lived in this house.
We find a little sunny place and I take out the sage to give some thanks to the spirits. I try to lit it with my sparker I got from my older sister when I was 10 or so. But I forgot the birch tree bark, so I start the little sage fire with a match. We smudge each other. She says an Islamic prayer. Its good just to breathe.
A voice of a lady brings us back to reality. She is the owner of the property, asks us if we cannot read the sign that says it is forbidden to go to the ruin and that it really is dangerous. I apologize and tell her I can read English but I still wanted to come here and thank her for coming to tell us this. She softens and we leave safely the property. On the way we go shopping for a great triffle – an English desert, that will feed hungry guests in the evening party put together from my friend Tal and house father Matt.
Back at the college the sun is about to set. More people come to give birthday wishes and kisses, I run for a tree with 2 boys. I almost caught the sun, its so good to sit on top of a tree again. We play hide and seek in different variations.
The sky is still painted in beautiful colors, Tal stays there with me. Without speaking we watch the horizon and the sky and the hills. I lay down to the ground, need to feel the mother below me looking up right into the eyes of my star, birthday star high above me, between 2 clouds. Remembering the star I saw a year ago, while dancing in a club in Nairobi, Kenia. Looking back to the horizon the picture is cut with a barbed wire. Pictures of War, Israel / Palestine, Prisons shoot into my mind. Remind me of all the pain that still is in this beautiful world. This disconnection. As if Tal is seeing he same things, she voices this pain. Her eyes returning from a journey from far away. Ask me where I think my angel is now. Pointing to the fact that she thinks, my angle is inside of me now. Later when we talked about this experience she said that she kinda saw my angle flying towards the sun. It must have been around 6.30 pm.
THANKS FOR ALL THE PEOPLE FROM MY COURSE WHO HAVE BEEN THINKING TO ME AT THIS MOMENT, HELPING ME TO CROSS THE TRESHHOLD.
On the way to my room I stop at Oaktree house. Looking for Amy, an American girl that I heard had a tounge piercing removal ceremony. I want more information about this.
She is in her room with an friend and tells me her story. Its an amazing story that takes us to many places I never expected to hear about. Full of woman power and celebration.
Both of them agree in helping me later on a special mission.
I go back and make myself a little bit something to eat. The girls come. I take a candle, we find some rubber gloves and off we go through the dark. Our goal is a little island in a lake nearby. Its private property. We have to sneak through their yard. The light flashes on us. We hurry to the dark, our feet slowly searching for the steps leading down to the lake. We cross the bridge. I greet the little tree. It is a good friend. I tell them the story of my tongue piercing. Almoust 7 years ago, after my car accident… Te story of Puuwaimele becoming Blue Thunder Woman and now being at Emerson College doing the Storytelling course, My teacher Roi who thinks I should take the piercing out, to see if my voice is changing. The candle is lit. I put on the gloves and I am able to take it out.
The metal pieces are sleeping on the ground of this lake. From the earth to the earth.
I am so grateful for my witnesses, without them I couldn’t have done this step.
Back in my room I go to take a shower and shave my legs and armpits. And then I put the wild Rose oil all over my body.
I go to check some more emails. And there it is, the prayer I have been unconsciously waiting for. 3 years ago I heard it for the first time from Carolin in Sweden and was able to tell a story for the first time again. “Hope for the flowers.” And now I get it from Dave who doesn’t know about this, and the old is over and the new is about to come. From now on I have to work for the relationship with my guardian angle. Consciously re establishing the connection to my guardian angle.
In the common room people start gathering. We have the nice raspberry pie and a weed free cake from Jessica. Everyone sings Happy Birthday. Many cultures many songs.
Elija from Israel suggests to put me on a chair to lift me up. They take me laying on the ground and throw me up. 28 times. I blow the candles together with Lisa from California. Her daughter became 21 today. Together we share the cakes with our friends.
She cuts my hair. Just a trim in memory to my total hair cut 7 years ago. Matt sings beautiful songs on the guitar. We hear a great story from Chris, about the bautyful river in Russia. We go to look to the stars.
It was a full day. A great day. A perfect birth remember day.