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Florida Found
"Sweep out the corners of your heart, make it ready,'' Debi Chapman and Michael Whalen softly sing as the Gulf of Mexico cradles Olivia Boudreau.
By JAMIE FRANCIS
© St. Petersburg Times, published June 16, 2000
The sand is cool and soothing as the six pilgrims with bamboo prayer sticks make their way north along Clearwater Beach. They are headed to Caladesi Island, to ask the gulf to do something they have never sought from it before: They will ask for healing.
The six continue in silence until they reach the last commercial building on the beach, a pink high-rise with a large wooden pier that protrudes out to the beach. Debi Chapman, one of the leaders of this Saturday morning outing, scratches a straight line deep into the sand. This is a threshold for the group, the place where nature begins to return to the Florida landscape and the spot they will place their first prayer flag.
They cross the line and Chapman carves a circle with her stick. A flag is pressed into the earth as Michael Whalen, Chapman's partner, gives the signal that noble silence has ended.
"We are not like Christ or Buddha, we are not alive in every moment," he tells the others, "but if we plant a marker -- this prayer flag -- it gives us an opportunity to be present, to be alive in this moment."
Whalen and Chapman lead a series of loose gatherings through the spring and summer that they call Dayquest 2000. This week is ocean healing. Another outing will be a walk under the full moon, another a visit to sacred Indian mounds.
On the 11/2-hour walk to Caladesi, they plant more prayer flags. Chapman and Whalen encourage each person to be in tune with the rhythms of life: the sound and feel of their own breath; the sight of waves washing over the hard-packed sand where water meets land; the space created by the absence of commercial and residential buildings.
They ask each of them to release one thing from their body, mind or spirit, one thing that will make room for the healing that lies ahead.
For Faye Capone the request is easy. She has been cancer-free for 15 months, but her soul remains tormented by the experience. The scar from her mastectomy has healed, her hair is back -- more curls now -- and she can eat again, but the loss is always with her.
"It's not like a broken arm," she says. "I'm still trying to cope with the loss of a body part." She wants to release the worry of waking up every morning to the thought the cancer has returned.
The journey is pure and simple for Olivia Boudreau; she wants to release anger. "It has built up over a lifetime, and it leaves in layers," she says.
She is just now learning about the essence of special moments. She has cut off the air conditioning at home and sits outside in a plastic Adirondack chair. From this cherished seat in her back yard, she can hear the birds sing and watch her 2-year-old granddaughter run naked through the yard.
"It's important for me to learn to show gratitude," she says. "If I don't listen to my heart and soul, I am going to create death for myself."
Solette Klimaszewski and Debbie Bergeron are less elaborate in their objectives, but their goals are crystal clear. Klimaszewski wants to release negative thoughts that no longer serve her or anyone else. Bergeron wants happiness.
They choose their spot on Caladesi, and as the midday sun penetrates the crystalline water, the floor of the gulf shines in all its glory. Day-trippers with boats have drifted ashore to the north on Honeymoon Island; to the south Clearwater Beach is outlined against the brilliant blue sky.
Chapman and Whalen prepare the others for the healing. "Take these moments to invite any spirits, angels or allies," Whalen says. "Allow your body to make its wishes known, allow yourself to release gently and with ease, and become comfortable with all that is: ocean, sky, wind."
Chapman leads a yoga session. "It's not about the pose," she says. "It's about what is in the heart."
One by one they wade into the waist-deep water. Boudreau is excited and anxious as the water rises level with her hairline. Her eyes are closed and her arms bob weightlessly. Chapman cradles her head, Whalen her feet. They sing softly to her. "Sweep out the corners of your heart, make it ready," the song begins. They perform therapeutic touch and rotate her body in clockwise circles.
Chapman and Whalen are the first to admit the mystery of healing. "There's not a written manual," Whalen says. "We can't convince them of anything," says Chapman, "we can only help them discover the truth."
That is enough for Boudreau, who is so moved by the ceremony that she needs help getting her feet grounded in the shallow lapping water. She says thank you with an honest embrace. "It slowed me down, got me out of my head and into my heart."
The last thing the group does is perform a water blessing. They form a circle in their cove of perfect water and take turns standing in the center. Each person is showered with sea water poured from large sea shells. They indulge Capone with healthful blessings, Boudreau with wishes of an anger-free life, Klimaszewski with positive energy and Bergeron with great blessings of happiness.
Boudreau wonders what will become of the shells they have just used in the blessing. No one has an answer. With joy she grips hers tight, turns toward the horizon and gives it a mighty fling. The round side skids along the surface of the smooth water for an instant, then sinks from view, released back to the sea.
-- To contact Jamie Francis, call (727) 893-8319 or e-mail jfrancis@sptimes.com