Like every previous afternoon, this Thursday Maurice and Jacqueline chose a picture on their tablets to make a painting and a drawing from. They enjoyed the weather, almost windless, sunny, and a fine temperature.

"So young lady, we are going to have a good time again!" Maurice looked at his wife in love, bent over to her to put his hands around her face and give her an intimate kiss. "Are you also enjoying this week so much?"

"Oh yes, you bet. You know, the combination of everything is so genius. What is happening through us is amazing. The time spent here together creatively is wonderfully relaxing. Our room is nice, the bed is lovely, the food is fantastic. The other guests are friendly and the permanent residents here are all bright spots in this environment! I really can't think of anything I couldn't enjoy this week... Well, that seems like a good sign! I hope we can come here more often."

"Can we, no problem, but you mean, I assume, whether our souls urge us to stay here again."

"Yes exactly, it's just wonderful, no matter how much happens from here!"

They looked at the picture they had chosen on their tablets. Both photos were nature shots they had taken of the forest edge the previous day, as the sun was just beginning to disappear behind the trees.

"Put it on maiden!" laughed Maurice.

Jacqueline made a silly face at him and laughed.

Maurice sought out the paint he thought he needed especially at first. He wanted to start with the sky, and was going to try something new. He did not mix the colours on his palette this time. He applied the paint purely to the canvas and stroked it out slightly in a horizontal direction. When he had done that with red, yellow and two shades of blue, he wet a broad brush and started stroking it across the canvas in the same direction, so that the colours began to touch and blend. The top edge was still mainly blue, but once he had rinsed out his brush well and started to smudge out the sun colours, first in the centre and then further and further to the sides, the blue along the edge of the sun's rays began to fade. Maurice, still a little tense at first, began to relax more and more, enjoying the method that was new to him and the beautiful result.

Jacqueline had also started with the sky. She had struggled for a while to start, to see for herself how to get those swipes she had seen in the sky onto paper. The tip of the pencil was too sharp, but the side of the tip helped her get going. She too was getting more and more pleasure out of it, as she began to see before her how the strokes would come about, even before she had actually drawn them.

"Jackie, you should see, just like that, in a few minutes..."

Jacqueline looked up. "Oh wow, how did you manage that?" she asked in amazement.

"Put little blobs of paint, smeared it slightly and then went over it with this broad brush. A little wet, I regularly tipped that brush slightly in the water. And I feel like I'm going to lightly brush over it with that fan brush still."

"Try it..." urged Jacqueline.

"Oooh, what an effect, so delicate!" whispered Maurice. "Jackie, this is so fantastic, I feel so free in it. How are you doing then?"

She held her sketchpad so that he could see it clearly.

"Girl, how well we are doing! Your sky is beautiful too! So distinct, I don't even miss the colours in it. They look just like shadows, and yet I can immediately see it's a sunset. Come on, let's move on!" he said beaming.

They both grabbed their photos again, imprinting the forest edge in their minds, the different trees, mainly deciduous trees, but also a few needle-leaved trees. Jacqueline grabbed her pencil from between her lips and started with the tip, which was now well-sharpened by the sweeping, with the needle-leaved trees. She worked at a fast pace, driven, propelled.

Maurice was just beginning with the deciduous trees. He did not mix on his palette, but applied small bits of green paint to the canvas with a rather fine brush, straight from the tube. He used mostly green, but also a dot of brown here and there. When he had the feeling that he had applied enough paint for a few deciduous trees, he started making small circular movements with his brush, again with a little extra water. The green paint picked up a little brown here and there, creating slight discolouration of the green leaves. Again, as he worked, he became more and more relaxed. He began to enjoy the result of these simple movements. He used some more brown to make some visible at the bottom of the trunk.

"Well the needle-leaved trees..." he muttered. He picked up his palette, put a green and a very small amount of brown paint on it, picked up his fan-shaped brush, cleaned it and whipped it out a bit and started running it through the green paint with the tips, smearing the paint a bit over the palette. He picked up a dot of brown, mixed it with the smeared green paint, so that the green was no longer so bright green. He added as much brown until he felt that the green paint did roughly reflect the colour of the needle trees. Meanwhile, he thought about the needle trees. In the mountains, they were usually so much prettier. Too bad they didn't fit well here, that the soil or the height at which they were planted was not right for these trees. Anyway, he would try to give the needle trees here their shape and colour as they were meant to be, not half barren, but alive and sturdy!

With the fan brush, he made the branches, angled branches, quite symmetrical one above the other. Jacqueline watched him do it. When he stopped for a moment, she said, "Seeing it like that, how you do it, it really seems like child's play!"

"That's what it feels like," he chuckled and continued happily.

Jacqueline had had a little more trouble with the needle trees, but was ultimately quite satisfied with it. Her pencil tip was not so incredibly sharp by now, which suited her just fine. She followed the same system as Maurice had done, circling her pencil where she had seen the deciduous trees. She twisted and turned, forming the foliage trees, the top line of the trees, the sides that overlapped, the undersides, and underneath, she fleetingly sketched the tree trunks. She looked at the result, surprised by the effect, and started on the fence Huib had once put there with his father. She drew that too with fleeting strokes. It was a fence, but it didn't matter how exactly it looked. On the short front that remained, the grass appeared, with a small piece of one of the houses of The Shelter on the left.

She held the drawing away from her and then dropped the sketchpad onto the grass beside her. She stretched and took a few deep breaths.

"It feels... like I've given myself completely empty," she told Maurice.

"I just finished too, and I feel the same way yet. I feel like we just worked really hard, at a brisk pace. And anyway, it was intense... I think our souls were shining again in a big way. It felt good, but also sometimes like I had to break through something."

"Freeing creativity..." murmured Jacqueline.

She heard a sound of footsteps through the grass behind her and turned around.

"May we come closer?" asked Anneke cautiously.

"Sure, we're ready, just sitting down to take a breath," Jacqueline smiled.

She picked up her sketchpad and flipped it open at her latest creation.

"We used the same picture this time. Actually quite funny, the same picture, rendered in two completely different ways. Does it appeal to you guys a bit?" asked Maurice, looking back.

"Yes, oh yes!" Anneke came completely unhinged. "Not even so much in terms of the result, although I like them both, but they do something... You know, we both like modelling, but felt quite stuck lately. I just didn't feel like doing it anymore, like I was bumping into something I couldn't get through. And now, it seems like your work has breached that fence I was bumping into. If we stayed here any longer, I'd go to the shop in a minute to get clay!"

"What do you care, you still have a whole Friday left!" said Jacqueline. "Huib will surely know where to buy clay here."

Anneke slowly shook her head. "No, Saturday we go home, clean up quickly, and then work out what is currently forming in my head. I think I need to start making some notes of it."

"Anneke, wait a minute," Jacqueline called back to her, standing up, walking towards her and putting her hand on her shoulder.

"Your memory is not something you have to frenetically control. Your soul knows very well what it wants to make, and stores it automatically. And if it did disappear on Saturday, perhaps it was a way to help you let go. Your memory is a vessel filled from your soul. And it will continue to do so, over and over again. The feeling that things are disappearing from your memory is a false feeling, a feeling created by woundedness. At school, we have already been taught to remember everything. As a result, we are stuck in that memory problem we call 'forgetting'. But we don't really forget, our soul knows what we need to know. And that cramp of remembering is going to disappear, just let go, so you relax."

"So... that wasn't a lesson in biology, those were words with substance, with power. I've been hearing more about soul power and living from your insides in the last few days... that's definitely it, isn't it?"

"Yes, that's it... And as you sculpt, you start experiencing that more and more. Just feel, feel how the clay feels, feel which way to rub or knead. Who cares what it looks like, as long as it feels right for you! After all, when it does, it looks good! Take our work, we were fussy, both of us. But through a piece of release and healing, we have become much looser, enjoy it more and experience more power from it. So what more do we want?"

Bob smiled: "I think that would be great, I would love to experience that, and I absolutely believe we will experience that."

Jacqueline looked at him, her head tilted. "It may also be that you will experience something else, namely that modelling does not suit you at all. Don't be alarmed, it will become clear what does suit you. Just keep trying to feel what you really feel like doing!"

Meanwhile, Maurice was cleaning up, had already rinsed off his glass jar, his painting palette and all the brushes he used.

"I'm going to help Maurice for a bit," Jacqueline announced.

Bob and Anneke walked on across the estate deep in thought…

.

Chocolate cake with little dollops of whipped cream... Maurice and Jacqueline had feasted on it before strolling at their leisure to The Shelter.

They were still some distance away when they saw Cynthia waving, getting up and walking towards the front door.

"Come in! Janneke and I have already warmed up Sandra and Willeke with our enthusiastic stories," she laughed.

"Yes, and not only that," Willeke complemented as she introduced herself, "we've also seen how they've changed. So that does evoke longing for something we don't really know at all yet."

"Hi, I'm Sandra, and I join Willeke. I experience a kind of tense anticipation. I find it quite a bit scary, but I expect, hope that something will change in me too. That seems wonderful!"

"It's absolutely no fun living with fear either, Sandra. That fear that you inherited as a child, which made you freeze over and over again. Even as a child... and then the problems piled up, people waltzing over you... men and women... how stressful it must be for you to live here with three women, because for you women can't be trusted either! That fear, that makes you unable to do what you know you should do. That freezing, that stiffening, and inability to find a solution. All those different forms that prevented you from working your way through the misery. That fear melts away like wax before the sun..." Jacqueline put a hand on her head, feeling her power flowing rapidly towards Sandra. Maurice caught her as she collapsed and immediately made a reassuring gesture to Sandra.

"She'll regain her power in a few seconds, I expect."

Sandra lowered herself to the floor, sat down next to Jacqueline and took her hand. Jacqueline opened her eyes and looked at her in surprise.

"That's miraculous, power is flowing from you to me now!"

"Really? I did feel something distinct, but that didn't surprise me because I've already felt so different since you put your hand on my head."

"How is your anxiety?"

"Right now I don't feel any anxiety at all. Wait a moment though... I just bring to mind some people who abused me, I feel disgust at what they did, but no more fear. And I used to have that when I thought about one of them... but not now, seeing a whole row go by in my mind!"

Willeke took a few steps closer, hoping Jacqueline could help her too. Actually, she didn't really know what she wanted to be helped with. She could handle life, as it was now, quite well. She had quickly found her niche here, had taken charge of the little group in the beginning, and she had managed that well. Now there was a bit more consultation, she could take a step back in leading. And other than that, she was always in good spirits, often cheerful.

"Longing huh," Jacqueline smiled, as Maurice supported her to get up. "In the circus, the animals run their own laps. And so do the people, in fact. But there is one who doesn't care about anything, the clown. He doesn't seem to have a programme, he just does whatever, makes people laugh with his antics. Long live fun! Do you know what he looks like when he polishes off his mask in the dressing room? Like a normal human being. And do you know what is often hidden behind the mask? A sad and broken human being. He enjoys his clown mask, because then he is loved, and feels happy, but he knows from experience, that when he is alone in his dressing room, the depression, listlessness and all those other unpleasant feelings take possession of him again with great speed. That mask seems to be your salvation when you are in a group. Nobody sees how you really feel, and so you stay afloat. Yes, you still stay afloat, but when you are alone, in your own little house, you feel the dark chill closing in on you. That mask is not who you are Willeke, that mask is a protection. Imagine if I take away the mask, remove it from your face, what is left? What will happen then?"

With big frightened eyes, Willeke looked at Jacqueline as she slowly brought her hands to Willeke's face to remove her invisible mask. She stroked her fingertips over Willeke's hairline, past her ears and down to her neck.

"The mask comes off, I'll take it off for you. The real Willeke may become visible."

The moment Jacqueline removed the invisible mask, Willeke collapsed. Sandra could only just avoid banging her head on the floor. Willeke rolled up into a foetal position and began sobbing softly, and after a while, crying louder and louder, to the point of screaming. As Jacqueline sat down next to her on the floor and kept her hand on her head, Maurice gestured reassuringly to the other women.

"Unwanted born, unwanted lived... Girl girl, how did you keep that up? And then that abuse on top of it... I'll tell you this: you are indeed wanted! Your soul is powerful and fiery, and is going to emerge. You, that unwanted baby, have it in you to want to heal people, to bring people to themselves and to their purpose. Deep down, that is your desire, but because you yourself have been destroyed from the beginning, you have never really been able to see that desire, to feel it. I call forth that desire, that powerful, fiery desire to heal in you!" cried Jacqueline.

Willeke cringed for a moment as her hands pushed against her belly like fists. Then she relaxed and seemed asleep. Janneke, with tears in her eyes, came closer, taking a decorative cushion from the sofa. She looked questioningly at Jacqueline, who nodded. Janneke carefully lifted Willeke's head a little, put the cushion under it and wanted to walk away again.

"Janneke," Jacqueline whispered. "You've come alive haven't you? This young lady here could use some new life. Will you put your hand on her, and give her some of your new life? And you, Cynthia and Sandra, come, join us, Willeke needs all of us, and she may experience that we are willing to be there for her."

"Oh yes, please!" whispered Cynthia, to which the other women murmured affirmatively.

"Maurice, will you give her some basics? Strengthen her feet and ankles..." complemented Jacqueline.

The combined power was so strong that Willeke soon opened her eyes and looked around in amazement.

"Just stay down for a while, we'll help you get started together," Jacqueline nodded at her.

Willeke lowered her head back onto the pillow and felt a whole row of hands gently grip her shoulders, sides and ankles. She felt power flowing, especially at her head and ankles, but also from the hands of her housemates.

"I want to be able to do this too..." she whispered.

"Yes, that's right, you've always wanted that, your soul has always wanted it, but all the misery you've experienced, has made it impossible for you to notice. But you can do it, now perhaps only lightly, but even the small power is important. If you want to stand up, you may do so now. I would advise all of you to be conscious of this, to remind each other and urge each other to use your power. Now it may feel like small power and will not solve all problems. But don't give up. It will grow! Remember that you are together, four times a small beginning power, is enough power to solve a lot of problems. And I am thinking especially of pain, anywhere in your body. So even if they are physical pains, you can help each other in this way.

And further... you have powerful people around you here at Bloemenhof, and you at work Cynthia. Ask them for help if you think you can't make it on your own. Together we get the shit underneath!"

To chapter 91. The digital website grows

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