Bridgit Dengel Gaspard
Known originally as Puck’s child, Bridgit was born in Stratford, Ontario, Canada where her father was acting in Midsummer Night’s Dream at the Shakespeare Festival. Following in his poulaines, she pursued dance, acting and comedy. Her astute observations, particularly of unspoken dynamics between people, her sensitivity to micro and macro injustices, her sense of style and her love of opposites fueled her philosophy of life. In her pursuit to engage her creativity, she stumbled upon improvization – both movement and performance based. She also discovered Voice Dialogue, a simple, yet powerful technique of listening and communicating with our Inner Selves. This was developed by the Drs. Sidra and Hal Stone with whom Bridgit trained. The more she witnessed its restorative power for all kinds of people (including herself), the more she concentrated on the process of healing. Her fascination led to earning an MSW from Columbia University and acquiring clinical experience in Dialectical Behavior Therapy (DBT) and Cognitive Behavioral Therapy (CBT). In 2005 she was a Founder of the New York Voice Dialogue Institute, offering professional trainings approved for Continuing Education Credits by the International Coach Federation, Association of Humanistic Psychology and National Association of Social Workers. As a licensed psychotherapist she focuses on creativity and success blocks.
Marianne Williamson states, “Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness that most frightens us.” This reflects fear of success, which often ‘gets no respect.’ Some minimize its effect. Others deny it’s real. How do you get help with a problem when it supposedly doesn’t even exist?!
Some consider it an act of betrayal to thrive, while another languishes. Fear of flourishing in the face of enormous global suffering was something Bridgit struggled with. She participates in nature-based ceremonies including vision quests and rituals. These are universal and ancient means to mark a rite of passage, find spiritual guidance and life’s purpose (which shifts over time.) This journey led her to her medicine image. Many years ago, on a midsummer’s afternoon walk, deep in the forests of Northeast America, Bridgit looked up. In the distance at the top of a hill were two trees. They looked like sisters, even twins. They could have sprung from the same seed and had certainly shared many seasons side by side. Both were tall and splendid. One of the trees glistened and flirted outrageously with the sun, slapping at the breezes with shimmery green leaves. The other, also singularly enchanting, was dead. Dead. Her gnarled and scraggly boughs stretched far into the sky. Her magnificent branches were bare, frozen mid-step, burnt grey, black and brown as if lightning interrupted her frenzied dance one fateful second. One tree was luminescent. The other arresting. One was playful, present and full of potential. The other, dead. Finished. If you have overwhelming emotions for enjoying life while another has died, or a dream has been extinguished, or an era has passed, or health has shifted, allow those feelings. This is Good Grief, Charlie Brown. However, withholding personal joy and fruition will not only NOT give life to the dead; it can make you feel dead.
Some consider it an act of betrayal to thrive, while another languishes. Fear of flourishing in the face of enormous global suffering was something Bridgit struggled with. She participates in nature-based ceremonies including vision quests and rituals. These are universal and ancient means to mark a rite of passage, find spiritual guidance and life’s purpose (which shifts over time.) This journey led her to her medicine image. Many years ago, on a midsummer’s afternoon walk, deep in the forests of Northeast America, Bridgit looked up. In the distance at the top of a hill were two trees. They looked like sisters, even twins. They could have sprung from the same seed and had certainly shared many seasons side by side. Both were tall and splendid. One of the trees glistened and flirted outrageously with the sun, slapping at the breezes with shimmery green leaves. The other, also singularly enchanting, was dead. Dead. Her gnarled and scraggly boughs stretched far into the sky. Her magnificent branches were bare, frozen mid-step, burnt grey, black and brown as if lightning interrupted her frenzied dance one fateful second. One tree was luminescent. The other arresting. One was playful, present and full of potential. The other, dead. Finished. If you have overwhelming emotions for enjoying life while another has died, or a dream has been extinguished, or an era has passed, or health has shifted, allow those feelings. This is Good Grief, Charlie Brown. However, withholding personal joy and fruition will not only NOT give life to the dead; it can make you feel dead.
Bridgit started writing as soon as she learned a bit of the alphabet and how to hold a pencil. Her earliest diary entry still in existence (circa 1965) marks 'Ant' Marie’s pending visit. Instinctively Bridgit was drawn to journaling where she expressed her unspoken words and unwelcome thoughts. She eventually wrote for a wider audience (than one.) Collaborating with some of her improv buddies, she wrote, co-produced and starred in one of the first Web series (circa 1994) called MUDDERS, the first cyber sit.comedy. She wrote and performed an alternative theater piece called Off the Rack: Cruelty in Retail using humor to explore the role of women in society and wrote and co-produced a very short film about a geriatric delinquent called, The Job Interview. She served as entertainment journalist for Comic Bible, Broadway.com, SHOW BUSINESS, and was the daily correspondent and festival line-producer for 1010 Radio and Hollywood.com at the Cannes Film Festival (2000 & 2002.)
She has written inspirational and educational articles related to health and wellness for several publications including More.com and Passion Test Daily. She contributed a chapter introducing the concept of “the Final Eighth” in The Voice Dialogue Anthology (2012.) Do you find yourself stagnant after doing many, many of the “right” things towards an aspiration? After a tremendous amount of work many people stop at “the final eighth” position. They are unable to continue, yet are highly dissatisfied with the status quo. Whether it’s relationships, career or health, are you unhappily stalled in a familiar orbit of disappointment? After working with many clients, Bridgit identified this phenomenon as “the final eighth.” Simultaneously concrete and ephemeral, “the final eighth” refers to the transformational process of taking the steps necessary to complete a project, finish a goal, realize a dream, love yourself and flourish!
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Does a part of you feel guilty, selfish, or even mean-spirited, to reserve your place at the success table? Perhaps a nagging belief remains that enjoying the eighth eighth equals taking something from someone else. That is sooo ‘old math.’ If the final eighth reflects and celebrates your uniqueness, there is enough to go around as it can only come from you. Also, your fulfillment can serve as a catalyst for other people’s dreams. Progress is not linear and every endeavor is a process – as is life. What makes you strong can also make you vulnerable. It is a misperception that as we grow robust, wiser, and more conscious we need less protection. In fact we may need more. The pressure is indeed on in “the final eighth.” It is absolutely normal to get stuck, but sometimes you need assistance. People ought to have dreams, pursue them and get support to help them come true in a viable, sustainable and engagingly, fun way. |
