The Knowing Field Issue 35

I am writing this editorial at very turbulent times, not just for us in the Constellations Field but for the wider world. Here in Britain, we are rapidly approaching the day for us to leave Europe. On the radio yesterday, there was a discussion about how we would mark the occasion: half the population (52%) wishes to celebrate it in style, while the other half (48%) are feeling sad or angry about the whole process and wish it had never begun. We are a divided nation. Of course, that division has been there a long time, but the last three years of the Brexit process have made it glaringly obvious.

It is ironic that, even before the death of Bert Hellinger, the overriding theme for this issue was ‘Working with the Collective’; I will come to this later. First and foremost, though, Bert Hellinger’s departure marks a significant moment for us all. The most poignant piece from his Sunday collection, entitled The Farewell, which was pulled out ready for publication prior to the news of his death, is included here as the first article.

When I put out the call for tributes, I had no idea how many people would respond. There was an immediate outpouring of emotion, with Facebook tributes and international calls via ISCA. It illustrated for me the changing times: everything is now much more immediate; lasting tributes, where consideration comes before writing, are almost a thing of the past. With the rapid development of electronics, who knows how history will be recorded in the future? Even this journal no longer appears as hard copy for people to pass on to subsequent generations. Everything is changing very rapidly. The challenge for those of us in our later years is to ride with the momentum of change without losing sight of what was valuable from the past.

I am pleased to publish several tributes to Bert from a few of the people who accompanied him in the early days, many of whom are still working in the field. There are also contributions from more recent participants who value what they gained from him, either directly or through some of his followers. Although much controversy surrounded Bert, the overriding theme from those who contributed to his memory was one of deep gratitude.

When my father died, he said he didn’t know what happened to us after we die, but one thing that gave him comfort was to close his eyes and see himself alongside his wife, with his three children standing in front of him, and in front of them, his nine grandchildren and two great-grandchildren. Life would continue beyond him. This was a man who knew nothing of the work I was doing but was able to highlight what was important to him: the continuation of life. Bert had no children, but what a legacy he has passed on for us all to carry forward in whatever way fits us best.

Most important for me personally, and for some of the others who have contributed here, are the short one-liners or ‘gems’ as I often refer to them. They are listed down the sides of the pages dedicated to his memory. Much is taught in the Constellations Field about the use of sentences and how short, succinct statements of ‘what is’ resonate strongly with the right brain and remain etched on the soul. As an avid note-taker in the past, not heeding Bert’s words about the value of just listening and absorbing, I now see the immense value of these short sentences. That is my greatest thank-you to Bert. For the rest, I leave you, dear reader, to browse through what has been written about him and to ponder on what hasn’t been written or said out loud but remains somewhere in the collective memory.

Two articles, from Alemka Dauskardt and Rafael Ruiz-Amdal, take his legacy one step further, reflecting on the work itself alongside Bert the person. Both Alemka and Rafael, in their very different contributions, draw on the essence of the work, and I feel sure Bert can rest easy, knowing that this essence will carry on in some form for years to come.

Shortly before Bert died, the Constellation Field lost another valued member: Robyn Lewis, who dedicated a huge amount of time behind the scenes working with ISCA. I am pleased to include in this issue the dedication to her memory, written by Paul Stoney, which appeared on the ISCA website. I’m sure you will all join me in thanking her too for the huge contribution she made to the Field.

In our History of Nations section, regular contributor Anngwyn St. Just offers us two sobering pieces to ponder. The first is on the legacy of nuclear weapons and their accompanying radiation contamination. She writes about the perpetrator-victim bonds that abound when reflecting on the history of wars and the attempts in the soul to move toward reconciliation for warring factions. Another aspect, which also links to my feelings about the passing of time following Bert’s life and death, is how history is recorded and distorted by many, yet the truth of it remains in the souls of descendants and is perpetuated in some way, with much suffering on both sides. When we can really look and see the truth of what remains from that history, there is relief for individuals and their families, allowing them to rest more easily in the movements of the Greater Soul.

Her second article addresses another legacy of history – the after-effects of colonialism and its accompanying atrocities. She writes about the history of the severed-hand chocolates, which interestingly dates back beyond the issue of colonialism to a legend from the Roman Empire, when there were warring factions in Belgium. Anngwyn challenges us all not just to remove the symptom – in this case, the selling of chocolate severed hands – but to look beneath them and face the history of unresolved issues from the colonial era, not just for Belgium but for many European nations and the atrocities perpetuated to this day in Africa and other areas of the world.

Although regularly contained in the History of Nations section, Anngwyn’s articles generally overlap with the collective theme too. So to our theme of working with the collective in this issue, we move from Anngwyn’s sobering reminders of our collective history to an innovative approach to working with the collective by Tanja Meyburgh and Sian Palmer. In their conversation, they talk about their new approach to Constellation Work, which takes us beyond words and enables us to connect in a deep way to our ancestral roots, acknowledging our ancestors as actual people who live on through us. This is achieved through the beauty of ceremony, ritual, creativity, and movement.

Diana Claire Douglas has long been a proponent for collective issues, and her conversation with Richard Olivier, who has worked for some years with Archetypal Constellations, is another step in that direction. He has brought together his background in theatre with his experience in leadership and systemic constellations, using archetypes to support the overall process.

Karl-Heinz Rauscher is well known for his work with Healing Voices and Men, Women, War, and Peace, which he often co-leads with Anngwyn St. Just. In his article on working with the collective, he explains very coherently the energy field that we are working with when we offer constellations, which is so difficult to explain to the layperson.

Max Dauskardt helps us look back to a time, not so very far away, when we lived as collectives within our extended family and tribe. He shows how the development of religion, empires, and more recently the nuclear family has separated us and led us to concentrate more on our survival as individuals. He sees Family Constellations as an attempt to heal our broken connection with this group consciousness, which is still embedded in our souls and lays itself out before us in constellations. Rediscovering these connections takes us on a path toward healing.

Leslie Nipps endorses Max’s contention with her focus more on the present, writing about the desperation of a client who was about to get married but felt very unsupported in his current systemic structure. The realization that this was his main concern was enough to relieve him of the huge burden he had been attributing to an ancestral problem. As Leslie explains, there was a small issue to do with ancestors, but by far the overriding pressure came from his current lack of support from his social field.

The next article is from Alemka Dauskardt, who writes at length about belonging and the price we pay for that. She sees most of the difficulties in our life stemming from loyalty to our particular groups: as belonging is not optional, the price for trying to push it away is a higher one. The more important issue is to find a healthy way of belonging, rather than trying to exclude something that cannot be excluded. This leads to a deep acceptance of ‘what is’.

Paul Stoney introduces himself as the new chair of ISCA, and we congratulate him on his appointment. He invites us to join him and others at the next gathering in Mexico, the topic of which, fitting with our ongoing theme of working with the collective, is Belonging.

This section on the collective finishes with an invitation from the De-col.Hub, a group formed out of the Colonialism and its Aftermath workshop facilitated by Anngwyn St. Just in 2018. We have been meeting regularly since then to find active ways to attract potential trainees from a more culturally diverse base. Our longer-term vision is to be part of decolonization and the re

-enchantment of the world we have all inherited.

I leave you now to read the articles, reflect on the contributions of Bert and the others, and ponder on the legacy we all inherit, whether as a single family system, as a wider group, or as humanity as a whole.

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Barbara Morgan
Editor