Becoming Myself:: An 87-Year Journey

By Margot S. Biestman

When author Margot S. Biestman was born in 1931, her grandmother told her she came into the world beautiful because she’d been kissed by an angel. The proof: her two dimples, one on each blessed cheek.

In Becoming Myself, Biestman offers an extensive and insightful commentary on how personal and professional experiences lead to self-examination and growth. Along with examples of her poems and other creative expressions, she reflects on a youth living among a family of artists, growing up in San Francisco, and becoming a teacher.

Biestman’s artistic nature has informed her life’s journey as a maverick who chose not to be boxed in by the social environment she was born into. Becoming Myself: An Eighty-Seven-Year Journey of Engaging the Senses through Breath and Creative Expression resonates with the courage to stay true to oneself and to forge a different and inspiring path.

• Language: English
• Publisher: iUniverse
• Release date: Mar 23, 2019
• ISBN: 9781532068423

Margot S. Biestman

Margot S. Biestman is a Stanford graduate, wife, mother, and teacher. Born in 1931, she is a third-generation San Franciscan. Visit her blog at radicalsenioracceptance.blogspot.com.

Book preview

Becoming Myself:

An 87-Year Journey

A Memoir—Engaging the Senses through

Breath and Creative Expressions

Margot S. Biestman

BECOMING MYSELF: AN 87-YEAR JOURNEY

A Memoir—Engaging the Senses through Breath and Creative Expressions

Copyright © 2019 Margot S. Biestman.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

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Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are models,

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ISBN: 978-1-5320-6841-6 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-5320-6842-3 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2019902773

iUniverse rev. date: 03/22/2019

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To my readers, begin wherever you like.

This book is not in chronological order. Enjoy what you can and leave the rest.

My Stepping Stones

I am living my life while writing my tales. I experience them as stepping stones. What I have written comes from an accumulation and distillation of what I’ve been, done, and learned in living my life up to this present moment. I would never be who and what I am today without each stepping stone! I have lived these stories and they have a life of their own. Enjoy yourselves along the way, on this reading ride!

My grandmother—who I called Gaggy—told me I was born beautiful, because I’d been kissed by an angel. The proof, she said, was in my two dimples—one on each cheek—a blessing.

Contents

My Stepping Stones

Kissed by An Angel When I was Born

Magical Moments Are Creative and Artistic

A New Generation is Born

The Glorious Art of Self-Care

Acceptance of What I Don’t Like in Me

Recognizing Everyday Wonders Is Recognizing the Miracle of Life?

Learning About Put-Downs at 86 3/4

Creative Ventures

My Experiences, Thoughts, and Sensations About Spiritual Beliefs, Religion, and Nature

I Am…A Piece of Art

Living Authenticity

Sentiments

Human Rights – Breathexperience is my Path

Seeing the World Through the Eyes of an Artist

Song Writing in Hard Times

What Is Natural Breath? and Other Breath Writings

Depression and Grief

My Thoughts on Being an Elder

Love of Self Is Also A Gift to Others

Perry’s Family

Lineage

Alone and Not Lonely

Three Travels

For Perry I Scream and Other Tales

From Wealth to Well-Being

A Few Memories of Florence Walter, My Grandmother

I Accept All of Me

I am Blessed in My Professional Life

Important Personal and Professional Decisions

Jaxi Rips Through

Memories of Joan, My Sister

John- My First-Born Son

John’s 60th Birthday

Loss and Grief

With Whom Shall I Share My Loss of Perry

Part Of My Legacy—For My 87th Birthday

Friends for 47 Years or So

The Holidays That Weren’t

Being an Artist

Potholes in and Out

Rampart—My Personal Remembrance

Rampart Swimming Hole

Ross and Rebecca For Your Wedding Day

Put-Downs and Ridicule:

Question from A Friend from the 70’s

Regrets and Compassion

What Will You Miss in Me When I’m Gone?

Family History

Spirituality: Dialogues

Spirituality, Beliefs, And Faith

Spontaneous Thoughts

Anger, Fear, And Love

I Am Lost … Is There A Way Back Home?

The 60’s: Institute for Creative and Artistic Development

Anniversaries

The 60’s: An Evening That Changed Family Dynamics in My Life

Today I Am Vulnerable and …

River of Breath and We Are A River

What Happens When I’m Not in My Experience of Breath?

When I let Breath Move Me

Now I Know Something of What I Don’t Know

My Loss of Memory …. The D Word

What Would I Miss in Me When I Am Gone?

When Laughter and Tears Come Together

As an Elder What Do I Have to Pass on To the Next Generations?

Living Your Life—A Note for My Dear Readers

Annie And Me

Mark and Me

My 8⁰th Birthday

Gems in My Life’s Experience

What Makes Me Come Alive

Loving to Write and Trouble…

Self-Esteem, Self-Love, And Love of Others –

Receiving Criticism and Moving On

Breathexperience Writing

A Random Note About Thinking Too Much

Struck by Bell’s Palsy—A Healing Crisis …

And Good News

6⁵th Wedding Anniversary

Acknowledgments

References

If You Make a Mistake … A Surprise from My Mother

CHAPTER 1

Kissed by An Angel When I was Born

I write to Lucky David Goff … a man I highly respect and have met just once … and he is …… a psychologist, writer, and teacher, who had a severe stroke. Now, in his recovery, with a distinguished black patch over one eye, and from his wheel chair, he leads a fascinating Wise Elders group in Sebastopol, California. I was moved by his article, Self-Care, A report from the Slow Lane, Elders-Salon, Sebastopol, California, November 11, 2014. I appreciate how he creatively lives his life, with a unique and artistic point of view, so I wrote to him that he had touched me with his writing.

He wrote back to me that he was thrilled I’d written and asked if I would share something more about myself … especially what I meant when I wrote, I sense the process of living my life as a work of art.

Little did I know that my note to Lucky would become the beginning of my book, Becoming Myself: An 87-Year Journey.

In response to Lucky’s request, I wrote …Born in San Francisco

I was born beautiful at Mount Zion Hospital on October 23, 1931. My grandmother—who I called Gaggy—told me I’d been kissed by an angel before I was born. The proof, she said, was in my two dimples—one on each cheek—a blessing. So, I figured that meant I must be beautiful!

It was important for me to believe Gaggy, especially when I was screamed at by my parents for whatever I’d done wrong, at the age of four or five. Even though I fervently and tearfully apologized, after knocking on the door of my parents’ bedroom, my father angrily banished me. As I stumbled back down the long hallway to my room, he yelled, Margot … Actions speak louder than words!"

Back in my bedroom, I fell to the floor, sobbing for what felt like hours. I felt unheard, broken-hearted, alone and lonely—far from the love I yearned for. From this point on, I deemed myself unlovable.

During the terrible times, to comfort myself, I thought of my grandmother who must have loved me. In fact, I know she did. I sensed it in my heart. Unfair, I said repeatedly. I was only trying … to be me, I considered, many years later. I was thwarted from trying to be me!

Thus, began my life full of challenges and opportunities in living from the cards I was dealt, and exploring my resources. My happiness grows as I learn to allow, physically sense, and participate in the experience of breath as it moves through the essence of who and what I am today—showing my truths.

I was born a sensual being—but my family didn’t support that quality in me. Except for Gaggy, I was not touched or hugged—just occasionally pecked on the cheek with a kiss. I learned the word, sensive, just the other day from Juerg Roffler, my breath teacher and dear friend for the past twenty-five years. Most everyone knows what pensive means, but not sensive. I like recognizing that I am sensive—now more than ever. I’m just getting used to saying it.

I come from a long line of artists and businessmen—witty, fascinating, artistic, intelligent. I was born to a mother who struggled through conventions of her day to become the fine artist that she was, in her own right. I am blessed to have found a way to transform my own patterns of struggling in life through various art forms and in the experience of breath.

Since I was 5, I wanted to be a teacher. When I was 6, I was a dancer who wanted to become a famous ballerina. By 13, I found the form too rigid and turned to modern dance, then became a dance teacher for children. All these years later, I am delighted to say Now breath is dancing me at the age of 83!

This is a miracle because my fiancé and I were in a head-on automobile crash and almost killed just before I graduated from Stanford. We were recovering from our injuries when I married this dear man, Perry Biestman, now my husband for 66 years. I am mother of 3, grandmother of 4.

During my 30’s, I became a metalsmith—hand-making bowls and sculptures of brass, also a jeweler, hand-hammering pieces of gold and silver, with Egyptian faience beads, antique stones, and pearls. My work was shown in San Francisco museums and private collections. Except for my fury when I burned through almost finished pieces of jewelry while soldering, I enjoyed making artwork. But I was lonely. I missed connecting with people.

So, I turned to my love of teaching and have taught people of all ages and learned from all of them in the past fifty–five years in public and private schools, training teachers in education and art. I am also an author of several books and articles. I always found a creative approach, and continue to this day. I discovered that my work for the past 25 years in breathexperience is an inside job and my journey through life. I choose to live it in an artistic way.

Little did I know how pain from my injuries in the car accident could be the first step toward healing myself. In my 40’s and 50’s I was plagued by acute and chronic pain in my spine that doctors said I needed surgery for, or I would be in a wheel chair for the rest of my life. I searched for all kinds of ways that would heal me and that’s when I found Breathexperience. Never did I think that I would or could become a practitioner and teacher of this work because I first felt that I was doomed to a life of disaster. To this day I am thrilled and excited by the possibilities that opened to me and that I could become agile again, dancing my way through life.

CHAPTER 2

Magical Moments Are Creative and Artistic

I sense that we all can be creative and artistic in many forms … not only in fine arts painting or sculpting.

I sense magic moments coming from the universe we can receive them when we are open, with a sense of oneness in body, mind and spirit.

These moments can occur in designing a way to fit a kitchen cabinet into a new reconstruction project, or in a moment of teaching a child that the words he speaks spontaneously can be written down and read to him. She receives this experience as a God-given gift.

Children are fascinated and excited in discovering that they can learn to read their very own words, cut them apart, and read them again out of context—a miraculous happening! It changes the paradigm of writing and reading from I am supposed to (whether or not I’m bored) to reading and writing because I want to. It is an organic process that comes from me into the world!

We can be creative and artistic in many forms.

In this book you will hear me refer to breath, the experience of breath, and my journey, both as a student and teacher of breathexperience.

Breath, by its nature, is invisible, and describing it can be elusive and ephemeral. So, if you are at all interested or curious, stay with me—for breath has real and tangible effects in my life and the lives of others. Breath movement is a healing power, which can be physically sensed as it moves in and through the body. More than a concept, this sensation is real, palpable, and perceptible!

We can learn to sense how our breath movement sculpts us in forms of lying, sitting, standing, walking, running, and dancing. The creative movement is already in us, we just need to sense and allow ourselves to receive and recognize this phenomenon—without plans or directions. We can be artists in living our lives—when ordinary becomes extraordinary.

These moments can happen spontaneously anywhere—for example, being in nature; on a beach; taking a piece of paper, squeezing glue onto it, picking up a handful of sand, throwing it on to the paper, then waving it in the wind, laying it down, and looking at it—loving it and laughing how wonderful life is—perhaps even rolling down a sand dune with one of your children at any age.

Conversations can be artistic dialogues. By seeing reality in uniquely different ways—we can enjoy remarkable events that occur as results of letting whatever happens to happen—without attaching it to an outcome. I am bowled over by our daughter, an artistic hair designer, who is simply being who and what she is—an artist in her chosen field, and an artist as a human being. She trusts in letting her truth be expressed through her essence of Self.

She has been single for 1 ½ years, after 28 years of marriage, which ended in divorce. In exploring other relationships, she has met a single man she honors, respects, and thoroughly enjoys. He has been divorced for many years, but she doesn’t have an intention to remarry at this time or perhaps ever, and he is unsure. She and this man are very honest with one another and express their love in many ways. Because she honors and respects vows in marriage and family, she is supporting him to return to his wife and family—because he needs space to find out if they can work it out. Her backing him up takes courage and a tremendous trust in herself! By freeing him to make his own decisions, she frees herself, no matter what he chooses. He will go back to his wife, with his experience of knowing how much he has learned from her.

In this art of letting go, she is a teacher for me and many others. Letting go is a beautiful occurrence, over and over again—an artistic lesson in life!

I call this communication a remarkable work of art.

One of My Magical Moments—Beginning A New Career in Teaching

I sat on the edge of the sand-box in our children’s nursery school, 1959, as children played. I listened to them and wrote down their talk … in a magic moment for me and them …

I knew at that moment that I would read to the children what they had spontaneously said when we came in from recess. They sat in a circle and I began to read.

What’d I say, what’d I say? they all asked.

In the next few days I pasted their words on a page. They drew
pictures of themselves saying those words. Another day I cut up their sentences and pasted each word on a separate card, and placed them in labeled envelopes—one for each child.

The children played with their words and learned to read them.

We laughed together when their sentence made nonsense, and they put words back together to make sense. We had a hilarious time reading, writing, drawing, moving, and learning.

I was excited! What could be better than teaching children their own language to read? They learned they were worth reading and writing about.

The children wanted to read what they had said, and that was the beginning. Reading became one of the best games of the year for them. They would pour out their words from their envelopes onto a table. Each of them easily memorized their words. They loved receiving their words and keeping them in their own envelopes. I asked them to mix up the words and read them, place them in different ways and read them in all kinds of ways—nonsense and sense. We laughed as we all shared together. Everyone was interested in themselves and everyone else.

This magical moment gave me the immediate sense that I could teach reading in a way children loved, rather than the Dick and Jane books of my childhood, where I’d learned to read well out loud, but the content was boring, and I didn’t like to read. Of course, I said to myself, this is the way to teach reading—using the children’s own experience.

Little did I know at the time that this magic moment was the start of my new career in teaching children how to read, write, and draw pictures of themselves. Little did I know that their spontaneous language would be one of my books I wrote for teachers in Head Start and Follow Through programs in fourteen school districts throughout the country!

Many More Magical Moments—Why Do I Teach?

I can’t not teach because I’m being in a life that nourishes my soul. I am connecting with my students when I’m teaching. I receive them as gifts because I learn from them. Our connection is one of reciprocity, an equality in which receiving and giving are in balance.

Sometimes teaching and learning is really difficult, and I’ve said to myself that I’m in the wrong profession, and I sense, I’m not good enough, but I get through those times, when I sense my breath moving in and through me, and realize I’m still alive! I sense how much I listen to myself and the students—how important that is—receiving what exists—not what’s missing. I sense my pride in picking up what the students are sensing, and from there I teach and learn.

I’ve taught and learned through happiness and when I’m scared or criticized or when I’ve had horrible pain in my back and was healing. There’s always something to learn. Now I’m 85 ½ and still teaching and learning—with increased clarity of what’s important and vital.

I first sensed my desire to teach when I was 5 years old, and gathered my younger siblings and cousins together in the summer times when we visited our grandmother in her family place on the Truckee River near Lake Tahoe.

I started by finding a grove of trees that were growing in a circle, with spaces between them. I felt the trees were perfectly natural for my students to claim a private learning space between the trees as a room for each one—and we met together in a circle around the trees and shared our experiences. I taught math from having the kids pick up stones, count them and use them to add and subtract.

I taught beginning reading and writing by listening to children as they chattered with one another. I wrote down what they said, and read what I wrote to nursery school and kindergarten children. They were so excited that someone really listened to them, their words were important enough to write down and read. I was happy with them and me, and I turned our project into a book, which they loved to read over and over. I chopped up the sentences and formed new words and sentences—nonsense words so everyone laughed as they sounded out the syllables.

I love teaching from the unknown into the known and vice versa. I am fascinated that the universe provides us with everything we need if we are open to listening and receiving what is. Sometimes I simply ask students of any age to be generous with themselves. They begin by placing their hands—one on top of the other—on the soft spot where the ribs meet in the front. Then I ask if they sense something that moves—expands as they inhale, and returns to the body on exhale, then a pause—waiting until the next inhale comes again. That’s where the movement of breath, in its cycle, begins and ends, over and over again—each one different from the one before—not regulated! That is the beginning of learning to let the breath come and go on its own. It’s a marvelous way to sense ourselves being alive! If we run, the breath changes, also when we sit or lie down. We can sense tensions and releases in the breath from here.

Teaching can be as simple as listening to the wind blow and writing what they hear, to observing one another as they sit at their desk, drawing what they see out the window—endless possibilities!

A Magical Moment In My Breathexperience And Writing Career

In 2007, I asked Dru Simms, who was a student in my breathexperience classes in Sonoma, if she would give me feedback on the first draft of the preface for my book, River of Breath. She said, "Margot, you are writing with a dominant directive voice that you criticize, for lack of balance in our culture between receptive and directive voices, but you think the directive might be accepted by a publisher for your book.

I was stunned.

She said, You teach breathexperience in a different receptive voice.

I gasped. A magical moment. Breath … Can I just write from my experience of breath? That would be easy, I said—very easy.

This was a magic moment of recognition of a truth—I was trying to fit in to be accepted, instead of being my authentic self. In my experience of breath in its allowed state, I sense balance between the receptive inhale, the directive exhale, and the reconciling pause within the natural breath cycle, over and over again—each breath cycle uniquely different—forming my breath rhythm. If I get out of my own way, … I thought, I will be in good hands.

In that moment I received a message from a power far greater than I … something sacred. It is a creative moment, where anything and everything is possible—in the land of the unexpected.

In a state of ease and a sense of well-being, I began writing from the truth of who and what I am. If I write from my truth, I thought later, I could invite readers to touch their own truth. In gratitude, I asked Dru if she would be the editor for my book. When she said, Yes, I was deeply happy that day. Dru has become a dear friend, as well as a great and honest teacher. And my book, River of Breath is in print. I am told that my truth touches others’ truths, so I am touched.

A Magical Moment Dancing in Hana, Maui:

Somewhere Over the Rainbow Celebrating My Sister Joan’s Life

When Perry and I Travel to Hana, Maui, as we have, for 47 consecutive years and 53 visits, we sense we are coming home to people of several generations who love and care for us and we love them and the place. Magic happens here. I often teach a breathexperience workshop in Hana.

We love to listen to authentic and beautiful Hawaiian songs and music played by artist-musicians and hula dancers, in the dining room of Hotel Hana Maui, presently renamed Travaasa Hana.

Our favorite musicians are Leokane Pryor, Christopher Helekahi, Boise Robach, and his lovely wife, Auntie Carol Kapu, a beautiful hula dancer and singer. They are kind in allowing, even inviting me to join them as breath moves me spontaneously into dance. Although I am not trained as a hula dancer, I’ve been told it is my special brand of hula. I am inspired when I hear the Hawaiian version of Somewhere Over the Rainbow, by Brother Iz, which brings back memories of my sister, Joan, who died two years ago after many years of illness. She adored Judy Garland in the Wizard of Oz, many years ago, and copied her dreamy look whenever she heard her sing.

As the music begins, I stand up, sense breath moving inside my whole body—three-dimensionally—with ease—and all around me. I am very present. In this moment I am called by a higher power into a dialogue with Joan as I am moving into an effortless dance, feeling lightness through my whole being. I am sensing intimacy with the audience and myself. They receive me in a way I have not experienced before. I know I am in touch with the higher power that breathes me. At the end, I hear joyful shouts and applause, never before like this.

A magic moment has happened. A woman runs up to me and asks if I will adopt her. A man in his 50’s comes to me in tears. I know I have touched him with my truth. He speaks of the spiritual nature of my dance and he is touched by his own spirit. Yes, a magical moment. I am so grateful to be able to be me who feels blessed.

A Magical Moment Happened When My Father Gave Me an Opportunity

… when he sent me down the long hallway when I was in tears. I didn’t realize the opportunity until …


I woke up the other morning and instead of the old thought of how insensitive my father was, I thought that because of what he did, I learned to grow through hard times to be who I am today. I thank God I was a kid who could pick herself up and live a wonderful life. Perry said the other day that nothing could keep me down.

A Magical Moment Happened When I Met Juerg Roffler, Ilse Middendorf and Faith Hornbacher

I had been searching in the San Francisco Bay Area for a body-therapy with healing practices for my ailing back. Injuries from our automobile accident brought on continued pain. I tried several different modalities. I found some therapies that helped for a time, but my chronic and sometimes acute pain recurred.

Magical moments began to happen when I met Juerg Roffler and Ilse Middendorf. They offered introductory workshops in the Experience of Breath in Berkeley and San Francisco, 1988 and 1989. Juerg came from Switzerland and had participated as a student and then teacher in Middendorf’s Perceptible Breath work in Berlin, Germany. He had become her closest associate. When they came to the U.S. I immediately sensed that each had a unique presence, which I’d not experienced before—and moved with grace, ease, and vitality.

They asked us to allow our breath to come and go on its own, physically sense our breath movement in and through our body—and participate in the experience of breath—without organizing or guiding it. We were in an environment where we could learn to sense something real and practical in life, as we were receiving a gift from a higher power! I was riveted.

I met Faith Hornbacher during a break as a fellow student. That day she said she wished she’d taken notes. So, when I offered her a copy of my notes, we became fast friends. I enjoyed her saying to me that I was generous, while I sensed it was simply a natural act for me. Together we became teachers, colleagues, and have been friends since the beginning of training. We traveled to Berlin and Levanto in Italy for graduate workshops after 3 ½ years of breath training in San Francisco and Berkeley.

A Magical Moment happened when a National News Program wanted to make a video of breathexperience. I remember being so thrilled when I received a phone call from either CBS or NBC in response to my request for a news segment on how breath can be a healing force to support people with back pain. Though one of my colleagues objected to the focus on back pain being too