A family constellation is a group process that gives one an experience of the invisible dynamics that are present in your family system. It involves the setting up of a space with representatives of various family members standing in and allowing a picture to emerge that allows participants to look at the entire family system in order to understand the symptom or illness. In looking with this trans-generational lens, one is able to reveal hidden dynamics and underlying loyalties that draw someone out of life. It can bring about greater personal and family understanding and healing.
It was two years after the party, in 2002, and I was part of a small group sitting in a living room in Cape Town, where I unexpectedly volunteered to set up my own family of origin with visiting family constellation practitioner and author Dr Ursula Franke. I had no idea it was about to be the work I was to do in the world. In a constellation workshop, a person presents a symptom, illness or difficulty to the facilitator who then gets a sense of who needs to be included in the circle to understand what the symptom is trying to communicate on the part of the entire family system.
My chronic fatigue indicated that I was in some way disconnected from life and unable to receive sufficient life force from my parents. A participant from the circle was chosen to represent my mother and my father. I used the family constellation model to set up my mother and father, and both of their lineages. What followed was a glimpse into the lives of my German grandmother and grandfather who lived during World War II. It was the first time I was introduced to a concept of ‘ill-gotten gains’ that may have come from that time and place and continued down my lineage. The positioning of the people in the centre of the circle indicated that my mother was not able to look at me. She was looking past me, her eyes downcast. The facilitator then brought in representatives for her parents, my grandparents, and a heavy and depressive quality entered the room. My grandmother cried and looked down at the floor and my grandfather could not look at her as it was too much for him. The image made such sense to me as my granny lived with many depressive episodes over the years and my grandfather died of a heart attack some years after World War II.
What the facilitator then did blew the picture I had of my family wide open. She brought in people to represent Jewish people who were killed by Germans in the war. I was shocked. This was 2002 and full 40 years after the war and I had no idea that this played any particular role in my life. As the representatives came in, a number of people lay on the ground in a row. I watched as the representatives for my grandmother knelt beside them and wept as if at the grave of a loved one. The grief and heaviness I felt in that room mirrored the heaviness I experienced during my bouts of chronic fatigue throughout my life. My mother was also looking at the victims, and I stood there with no access to the female line because their attention and energy was captured by the dead. The facilitator offered them a few sentences to say out loud that acknowledged the difficult fate of the many people who died over that time, that honoured their passing and the role that my mother’s family, as Germans, had played in the war. I knew that my grandfather, grandmother, my mother and her siblings who lived in Germany got to keep their livelihood by turning the family business of making steel parts to be used for the war machine. Had they resisted they would have died, but by not resisting they survived. After the war so much was done to recover, repair and move forward that many things had never been acknowledged, had never been fully felt and never been given a place. My mother belongs to a lost generation of children who grew up in the rubble and on a land that was full of bloodshed.
For the first time that day, I felt seen on a deep, deep level. The gravity I felt tugging at my limbs on a daily basis, from the chronic fatigue, suddenly made sense to me when I saw the bodies of so many lives lost in the war. They mirrored something I had experienced deep inside my soul but could never make sense of. The tears that had welled inside of me for years, were in fact the tears of my ancestors.