secret notebooks • wild pages

Fond Farewell

2012-01-27T21:53:00.000-05:00

The friend that so many of us danced and sang for and with just last Friday has passed on. As I knew in my heart when I saw her, the party was a love-filled send-off. I learned tonight that she smiled so much that evening her face hurt and needed to be massaged afterwards.

"Celebrate life" she told us from her wheelchair, which was obviously her desire even in sickness. Though I didn't know her extremely well, I greatly respect the strength and integrity she brought to both her life and her death and the generosity of spirit she showed in coming out that night. Not only did she share an important message with us, she sacrificed some of the last of her strength to do so.

Tonight when we heard the news J and I were standing in the middle of our friend's vast field, a frigid wind clattering through the icy branches of the surrounding treeline. I looked up to see the clouds parting and a bright crescent moon waxing overhead, a moon that promises re-birth and regeneration, a moon symbolic of feminine power and womanhood. Akal and peace be with you Kiran as you journey on. Please hold her family in your thoughts.

India: A Second Opinion

2012-01-27T15:44:00.001-05:00

This video was produced in 2007 but has been making the rounds on Ayurvedic and natural health Facebook sites this week, and I finally got around to watching it last night. I only wish it were longer and that it could have ventured even deeper into the Ayurvedic treatments the reporter received (and I'd also love to see the food being prepared at the Arya Vaidya Clinic)!

Here is some background information from the PBS website where you can read more about the video and this project. T.R. Reid's book, The Healing of America: A Global Quest for Better, Cheaper, and Fairer Health Care was published in August of 2010 after the author's "global quest to find a prescription for American health care."

A commentator on Japan for NPR and former Washington Post bureau chief in London and Tokyo, T.R. Reid has spent a lot of time abroad studying foreign cultures. But Ayurveda was still an unfamiliar option to him when he was considering shoulder replacement surgery. It fit nicely, though, with a larger book project he is working on, exploring various health care systems around the world, part of which will be featured as a FRONTLINE documentary next year. So he decided to give it a shot.

...skeptical to begin with, Reid is now convinced that Ayurveda is "on to something," though it may be hard to prove by Western standards.

Back home, in a brief epilogue, Reid admits that whatever gains he made in India have faded away. His shoulder is as stiff as ever. "But that's not the fault of Ayurvedic medicine; let's be fair here,” says Reid. "It’s because I haven't done a darned thing about my arm since I left India." Still, he has decided to skip the surgery that would have implanted a titanium rod in his arm.

"I'm certain that if I did the kind of massage or any kind of exercise like they gave me, even if I took those awful herbal medicines regularly, that my arm would be making significant progress, because we sure did when I was in India,” declares Reid, "and for that I'm grateful to Ayurveda."

Winter Arrives

2012-01-24T22:25:00.000-05:00

What's Your Body Trying to Tell You?

2012-01-22T22:00:00.022-05:00

This is a long post and if you don't feel like reading it (I forgive you) definitely DO watch the amazing video I've included at the end. Then you'll get the gist of what I'm really trying to say here.

Hi, I'm Uma and I'm a chai-aholic. It's been three weeks since my last cup of chai.

Sigh.

Actually, kicking the chai habit hasn't been as difficult as I'd feared. I am fascinated by the healing power of food, and were I not so miserably poor at math and chemistry I could imagine studying to be a nutritionist. An Ayurvedic nutritionist, now that sounds nice...(staring off into the distance)...

But I digress.

Here is a list of what I've been working to cut down on or eliminate from my diet over the course of the past three weeks: caffeine (including the green tea), most dairy, all alcohol, gluten, sugar and any food that comes out of a can (with the exception of organic canned coconut milk). I already don't consume fried food, meat, processed food, or soda so those things aren't an issue.

I've added: South African Rooibos tea, a high-quality whole-food multi-vitamin from New Chapter, 4 ounces of Aloe Vera juice a day, and am testing an all-natural topical product from Kopec Naturals called Rosacea Remedy. I also continue to take my usual curcumin supplement and use a good amount of turmeric in my cooking.

Fingers crossed, I think I'm starting to see a little improvement. The condition doesn't appear to be worsening, certainly. You know, in and of itself rosacea isn't some horrible, deadly disease. As far as health issues go, things could certainly be so, so much worse. To me, however, it does raise a great big red flag that something is not right. With that attitude in mind I see the red mess on the side of my face, (as unsightly and itchy as it is) as more of a blessing than a curse. Why? Because my body is communicating with me and telling me that something needs to change — and I am able to hear that message. Maybe it's saying "you're suffocating me with all that bread!" or "Hey, I'm allergic to milk!" I don't know exactly what the issue is yet, and that is the challenge. But I'm convinced the rosacea can be controlled if not completely eliminated through dietary changes, and it's my responsibility to figure out what my body needs to regain balance and health.

The dermatologist I saw years ago was not interested in helping me regain balance. He was interested in helping me eliminate the symptoms of rosacea. He gave me a tube of metronidazole and told me I'd most likely have to use the prescription for the rest of my life. Really? That's an acceptable outcome, an acceptable answer? And when the inflammation currently manifesting as rosacea on my face continues unchecked in my tissues and begins to manifest as something even more serious somewhere else will I receive another prescription and be told to just keep taking that for the rest of my life? My best guess is yes, I don't know about yours.

Doesn't it seem a lot more logical to do some investigation and figure out what the root cause of the inflammation is? But that approach takes time and work and a willingness on the part of the patient not only to change their habits but to begin slowing down and taking the time to listen to what his/her body is trying to tell them. And that in itself takes practice because one has to turn inward in a world where it's much easier to have your attention turned outward constantly.

But that's a bigger topic.

Anyway, as I sat looking over the literature that came with the small bottle of Rosacea Relief (a 30 day sample of which is free, by the way, on the Kopec website) I was struck by a reference to the product helping to restore the natural ph balance of the skin (from acid to alkaline). If the goal is alkalinity, will simply dabbing a topical solution on my face really be enough? What about a two-pronged approach of establishing alkalinity internally as well as externally?

This question led me down a new path in my online research of rosacea, and brought to mind the vivacious and inspiring cancer survivor Kris Carr and the raw-food alkaline diet she outlines in her book Crazy Sexy Diet. If her nutritional approach is good enough for stage 4 cancer, it's definitely good enough for rosacea. I immediately ordered a copy and plan to try out her 21-Day Cleanse as soon as it arrives and I've gathered the necessary ingredients (and appliances...juicer here I come) for doing so. Meanwhile I've been concocting crazy salads in the kitchen for the last few days, using recipes from the wonderful Kripalu Cookbook as my inspiration.

So this is where I'm at — and though some of you are probably thinking "poor Uma, she can't eat anything!" Though I'd make a horrible dinner guest at the moment, I am actually not craving any of the foods I've had to cut out, and am kind of excited in a nerdish- health-nut way to be conducting an experiment on myself. Which reminds me of a video I watched last night on TedX by Dr. Terry Wahl, a medical doctor with MS who decided to conduct her own experiment when her symptoms progressed to the point of making her wheelchair bound by disease. I'm sure you're going to be as inspired by it as I am.

Conduits of Healing

2012-01-21T20:16:00.000-05:00

I'm still thinking a lot about last night. J described the evening as more of a "ritual" than an "event" and I think that is absolutely true. Being present there made me think of my mom's fight with cancer on what would have been her birthday yesterday. In addition to still feeling my way around having lost both of my parents to terrible diseases in a two year period I have also been dealing with a confusing and stressful situation that has being chipping away at my peace of mind for several months and has no doubt contributed to the return of my rosacea. Last night brought with it a bit of clarity around the question of what constitutes a true healing environment and who can be considered a healer. It widened my perspective.

Oddly, J and I both came home last night feeling terribly sick, which is why I was sitting up in bed typing a blog post (and sipping a hot infusion of raw ginger) past 2am. Had we both eaten I could have blamed indigestion, but J didn't sample the wonderful food. Had we both imbibed I could have blamed the alcohol, but I did not drink. Had we both gone snowboarding yesterday I could have blamed over-exertion, but I sat at my computer for most of the day, working. J thinks that when you open yourself fully to being with someone who is sick you take on a little of their sickness yourself, even temporarily. And if we are indeed all one, this transference of both sickness and health energetically makes perfect sense. The concept of healing by prayer is based on this concept, is it not?

In fact I'm going to go so far as to say that I believe the root of all healing is intention - the intention of the healer combined with the intention of the patient to co-create better health. I'm beginning to sense that all the degrees and experience in the world won't make someone a healer in the truest sense of the word if that person's intention is distracted by profit or personal recognition. In other words, if that person's ego (or what in Ayurveda would be called the "Ahamkara" the "I-former") is energetically siphoning healing power away from the patient and feeding itself instead. And unless controlled, our egos are ravenous. They desperately want to cling to the familiar, that which makes "me" feel like "me," that which creates boundaries in consciousness by separating us into individuals.

One of the Ayurvedic sutras I'm studying states,

avrttir vyadhih sokarttan anuvarteta saktitah,
atmavat satatam pasyed api kita pipilikam

"To the best of one's capacity, one should always help those who are poor, diseased, afflicted with grief, or helpless. Even insects and ants should be treated/viewed as one's own self."

Yes. If as a healer we can recognize ourself in the lowliest ant, imagine the respect and healing intention we can bring to another human being? To heal with intention begins with healing one's own sense of separateness from the rest of the world. The practice of true medicine begins with the practice of non-harm.

I don't know what most of the people in attendance last night studied in college or do for their "day jobs" but I found myself for several hours in the presence of healers and surrounded by sincere unSELFishness. Musicians and dancers and friends alike became conduits of healing through the power of their intention, and that power wasn't diverted by thoughts of monetary gain or self-promotion. It reminded me that studying Ayurveda is about far more than holing up in my house with textbooks, but also about learning to be fully present and unselfish in the world.

Face and Embrace

2012-01-21T02:19:00.000-05:00

J and I just returned from a fund-raising event for a friend who is battling liver cancer — a young, vibrant mother of two small children, part of a tight-knit family who have already withstood more than their fair share of tragedy in this lifetime.

The room was packed shoulder-to-shoulder when we arrived and the music, a lineup of world musicians, drummers and dancers from the area, had already begun on stage. A makeshift bar had been set up with everything from mixed drinks to three flavors of locally brewed kumbucha, and there was a spread of hot vegetarian and raw food donated by two area restaurants. Dozens of local businesses, healers, artists and craftspeople had donated gift certificates and goods for a silent auction and a long table had been set out to hold the bounty.

Our friend attended the event for as long as she could, seated in a wheelchair by the stage. The drummers pounded their drums for her, the dancers danced in front of her diminished frame with the intensity of tribal healers, gathering spirit and strength from the very depths of themselves and throwing it over her like a blanket of energy. Art, culture and community merged together, blurring the lines between neighbors and family, and for a while all that was comprehensible to me weren't the forms in the room but the energy — everyone fighting, internally, his or her life battle. Some laughing, some crying, some silent, but everyone partaking in the giving and receiving of energy, food, drink, sound and creativity. Everyone offering what they could to the mix, like a stone soup. The evening was a true co-creation.

A community coming together in such a way to support someone so very sick should be the norm and not the exception. To dance at the feet of sickness and drum in the face of mortality is to celebrate life —all of life, not just the pretty parts. It's far easier to turn away from the brutal, undeniable truth that a body ravaged by cancer tells to us. Joining together to face and embrace that truth is where true healing happens.

Brothers or Fools?

2012-01-16T18:08:00.002-05:00

"We must all learn to live together as brothers or we will all perish together as fools. We are tied together in the single garment of destiny, caught in an inescapable network of mutuality. And whatever affects one directly affects all indirectly. For some strange reason I can never be what I ought to be until you are what you ought to be. And you can never be what you ought to be until I am what I ought to be. This is the way God’s universe is made; this is the way it is structured." — Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.

Until I read this quote I didn't realize I had anything to write about MLK day today. But until I read it I also never thought of Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr as a true bodhisattva. Clearly Dr. King realized, on more than an intellectual level, that we are indeed all One.

(The 10 minute video below is called "Bodhisattva Breakfast Corner - Martin Luther King, Jr. His Life and Deeds" by Ven. Thubten Semky.)

Yet if we are all one and our individual thoughts effect the whole, then what path is more beneficial: withdrawing from the world to concentrate entirely on one's spiritual practice, or staying active in the drama of this world by protesting injustice and serving others?

I like to think it takes a combination of the two. Perhaps the deep prayers eminating from secluded monestaries help provide people like Martin Luther King with the inner strength to keep fighting. Perhaps each rotation of every prayer wheel in India holds off the darkness for one more precious minute, gives the world 60 more seconds to change its ways, gives each of us one small opportunity after one small opportunity to wake up.

If we are all one, perhaps some of us are here to be the One's fighting fists, and others the One's eloquently speaking mouth. Some of us are the mothering arms that hold, and others are the analytical brain that devises solutions. Some of us are the feet who walk in protest. Some of us are the eyes of the One that see beauty — thus revealing itSelf to itSelf. And of course all of us together are a little of each, with our own individual strengths and weaknesses, striving to find our proper place in this "inescapable network of mutuality." As my Teacher says, "the individual is indivisable!"

The happiness of one’s own heart alone cannot satisfy the soul; one must try to include, as necessary to one’s own happiness, the happiness of others. — Paramahansa Yogananda

May the life of Martin Luther King, Jr remind us of the bodhisattvas that we are.

The Prayer Wheel from Jonathan Marrs on Vimeo.

Ra Ra — Rama!

2012-01-14T20:08:00.000-05:00

Just wanted to share my friend Jennifer's beautiful artwork of the deity Lord Rama that brought some sunshine to my mailbox last week (where lots of lovely things have been arriving lately, all of which I'm very grateful for and humbled by!)

Rama was the red avatar that appeared at the end of the Treta Yuga (the Silver Age) to establish fire sacrifice as the process for self-realization. In Hinduism he is connected to the sun and interestingly enough the ancient Egyptians also termed the sun as "Amon Ra" (or simply as "Ra") and in Latin the syllable Ra is used to connote light. Rama was considered the "ideal man" or ideal human, and his life and journey was one of perfect adherence to dharma despite the incredible challenges he faced.

Speaking of the sun, a recently released study of the Vitamin D our bodies naturally absorb from sunlight consistently found strong inverse correlations with solar UVB for 15 types of cancer including bladder, breast, cervical, colon, endometrial, esophageal, gastric, lung, ovarian, pancreatic, rectal, renal, and vulvar cancer; and Hodgkin's and non-Hodgkin's lymphoma. They also found weaker evidence for nine other types of cancer.

So when the sun is shining, make sure you get your daily share of it!

Here's to friends, well-wishes in the mailbox and the slowly returning light.

Street Art, Northampton

2012-01-13T18:31:00.000-05:00

The Dance of Dark and Light

2012-01-12T21:37:00.002-05:00

As heavy, icy snow covered the hills today I glanced back at last year's January 12th blog post and found a similar wintry scene, the same hint of depression, the same longing to follow a dream that feels, much of the time, as if it's buried beneath fear's covering like the dormant flowers just outside my window, waiting for spring. How can one be at once so close and so far from something?

Last year on this date I hid from having to venture out in the snow by taking a vacation day from work. This year my job doesn't include any vacation days (unfortunate) — but since I work at home venturing out is no longer an issue (fortunate). These days I keep both the voraciously hungry wood stove and a growing pose of wild birds fed throughout the day, dividing my time between my chilly upstairs office and the warm kitchen table, shuffling back and forth with renewed pots of steaming Rooibos. In the early afternoon I take Vixen, limpy leg and all, for a walk in the woods, observe the bright stumps of freshly felled trees, chant in an ancient language and note each day the very spot along that path through the woods that I asked the universe, may my true teacher find me, and may I recognize him when he does. That was almost two years ago now. The path curves there and the branches overhead open.

So close and so far. Don't plan to stay a wallflower if you dare ask the universe for a dance. Be willing to move. You can even strive for gracefulness if you dare. The universe is a beautiful dancer, just waiting for you to engage it.

J is working late at the furniture shop tonight so I slurp my Varan Phala alone, swirling the bits of bright green cilantro through the turmeric-hued dahl, fishing for diamond-shaped pieces of doughy chapati with my spoon. This is an Ayurvedic dish at its best: fresh and hot from the stove top, nourishing, balancing. I learned it from my Teacher's book, which I cook from more often than not for the marriage of supremely simple and strongly flavored achieved when the right spices mingle in the heat. Another kind of dance.

And though I claim to keep the news out, that's not entirely true. I hungrily read the stories about people with Mercedes pulling into soup kitchens for a hot meal. I read about tent cities. I read about PhD's working at McDonald's. These stories stack up, one after another, and provide plenty of fuel for keeping my fear stoked. That's when I ask myself how dare you think you can beat these odds? How dare you consider risking what you have to follow a path that could very well lead to nowhere? You are no beautiful dancer.

Then I consider of all the people who have done great things in this world with little more than a dream and courage and I feel ashamed of this fear, this attachment to my own comfortable status quo. The people I most admire have ventured far and wide following their hearts, usually in the face of great resistance, even danger. Do I want next year's blog post to be the same as this year's and last year's, like the snowy scene outside the window?

I don't know how long I'll cling to the wall, or which voice I'll end up listening to. The universe has given me everything I need to go forward, and then some. I trust it. Then I look around and see how much it's taken and continues to take from so many others. I don't trust it. When I look at the light, all I see is light. When I look at the darkness, all I see is darkness. "When you gaze long into an abyss the abyss also gazes into you." I used to not understand that quote. Now it's clear.

The only thing I hope to acquire in the coming year is enlightenment. I'm not talking about some kind of spiritual sainthood in which I sit in a hut on top of a mountain meditating all day (though that sounds good). I just want to stop looking at the darkness, or stop seeing it,
or stop caring so much that it's there and find the courage once and for all to step out of it and dance.

PS...
After reading this over again this morning perhaps "enlightenment" was too strong a word, as I find it's overused and misunderstood as being just another goal to be reached or thing to be possessed in our society, attainable through the chase, attainable by spending enough time at pricey retreat centers.

Personally I equate enlightenment with the confidence to do what one feels needs to be done (one's dharma) without fear —like Arjuna has to learn in the Bhagavad Gita. Perhaps I should have used the word "realization" which is to say I hope to remove the blockages that are keeping me from realizing my true potential.

"Have Faith in Yourselves!"

2012-01-12T08:44:00.002-05:00

Today marks the 149th birth date of Swami Vivekananda, who was the chief disciple of the 19th century mystic Ramakrishna Paramahansa. Vivekananda is considered a key figure in the introduction of Indian philosophies of Vedanta and Yoga to the Western world. He is perhaps best known for his inspiring speech which began: "Sisters and Brothers of America" through which he introduced Hinduism at the Parliament of the World's Religions at Chicago in 1893 (and which you can listen to below, though I'm not sure the recording is actually of Vivekananda himself.)

Here are some of his words from the book Pearls of Wisdom. I believe they were compiled from a wider sampling of his letters and talks. I hope you find them inspiring — I especially love what he says about fear and fearlessness.

"The whole life is a succession of dreams. My ambition is to be a conscious dreamer, that is all.
Each soul is potentially divine. The goal is to manifest this divinity within, by controlling nature, external and internal. Do this either by work, or worship, or psychic control, or philosophy — by one, or more, or all of these — and be free. This is the whole of religion. Doctrines, or dogmas, or rituals, or books, or temples, or forms, are but secondary details.

The whole universe is one. There is only one Self in the universe, only One Existence. All differences in this world are of degree, and not of kind, because oneness is the secret of everything. It is our own mental attitude which makes the world what it is for us. Our thoughts make things beautiful, our thoughts make things ugly. The whole world is in our own minds. Learn to see things in the proper light. First, believe in this world — that there is meaning behind everything. Everything in the world is good, is holy and beautiful. If you see something evil, think that you are not understanding it in the right light. Throw the burden on yourselves! All knowledge that the world has ever received comes from the mind; the infinite library of the universe is in our own mind. The mind is but the subtle part of the body. You must retain great strength in your mind and words. The powers of the mind are like the rays of the sun when they are concentrated they illumine.

You cannot believe in God until you believe in yourself. Where can we go to find God if we cannot see Him in our own hearts and in every living being? To devote your life to the good of all and to the happiness of all is religion. Whatever you do for your own sake is not religion. All that is real in me is God; all that is real in God is I. The gulf between God and me is thus bridged. Thus by knowing God, we find that the kingdom of heaven is within us. All truth is eternal. Truth is nobody’s property; no race, no individual can lay any exclusive claim to it. Truth is the nature of all souls. Everything must be sacrificed, if necessary, for that one sentiment: universality.

Fear is death, fear is sin, fear is hell, fear is unrighteousness, fear is wrong life. All the negative thoughts and ideas that are in the world have proceeded from this evil spirit of fear. Freedom can never be reached by the weak. Throw away all weakness. Tell your body that it is strong, tell your mind that it is strong, and have unbounded faith and hope in yourself. Go on saying, “I am free.” Never mind if the next moment delusion comes and says, “I am bound.” Dehypnotize the whole thing. If there is one word that you find coming out like a bomb from the Upanishads, bursting like a bombshell upon masses of ignorance, it is the word “fearlessness."

Pray all the time, read all the scriptures in the world, and worship all the gods there are …[but] unless you realize the Self (atman), there is no freedom. The greatest religion is to be true to your own nature. Have faith in yourselves!

Worship of society and popular opinion is idolatry. The soul has no sex, no country, no place, no time.
Why are people so afraid? The answer is that they have made themselves helpless and dependent on others. We are so lazy, we do not want to do anything ourselves. We want a Personal God, a Savior or a Prophet to do everything for us.

We must have friendship for all; we must be merciful toward those that are in misery; when people are happy, we ought to be happy; and to the wicked we must be indifferent. These attitudes will make the mind peaceful.

Give me few men and women who are pure and selfless and I shall shake the world. Take up an idea, devote yourself to it, struggle on in patience, and the sun will rise for you. Every step I take in light is mine forever."

— Swami Vivekananda

To listen to Swami Vivekananda's inspiring address to the Parliament of the World's Religions in Chicago in 1893 use the player below.

How Mushrooms Could Save the World...

2012-01-11T20:30:00.000-05:00

Nobody needs to convince me that mushrooms are amazing — but in this TedTalk mycologist Paul Stamet provides 6 more reasons to love them by sharing his truly amazing findings.

Tea & Sanskrit...

2012-01-11T00:35:00.001-05:00

"Do not conform any longer to the pattern of this world,

but be transformed by the renewing of your mind."

(Romans 12:2)

So...I'm teaching myself the Sanskrit alphabet. A good winter-by-the-woodstove activity, at least in my opinion. Call me a troglodyte, but when I read the newspaper I see that the world is carrying on just fine (or not) without my undivided attention to its pattern of never-ending ups and downs, winners and losers, gains and losses, sorrows and joys. In fact it's just as it was when I left it — and just as it will be when I glance its way again. Sure, the places and names will have changed, but the rajastic drama will be broadcasting like an endless rerun on a channel where plenty of people's attention is already riveted.

Is mine really needed?

For better or for worse and despite criticism, I'll continue to focus the majority of my attention on what calls to me over the world's din, and whether it leads me towards riches or poverty, fame or disgrace, a straight path or twisted has yet to be known. As is the case with everything — even the inertia I sometimes feel drawn to out of fear of the unknown.

Everything is the unknown.

J is in the midst of reading The Autobiography of a Yogi again and felt compelled to read this passage out loud when he found me hunched over a notebook in the kitchen with my flashcards and Rooibos tea tonight. The narrator, Paramahansa Yogananda, is a young student whose just realized he's forgotten to adequately study for his upcoming Sanskrit examination...

Feverently I reminded God of the oversight.

I set out on a walk the next morning, assimilating my new knowledge to the rhythm of swinging footsteps. As I took a shortcut through the weeds of a corner lot, my eyes fell on a few loose printed sheets. A triumphant pounce; in my hand were Sanskrit verses! I sought out a pundit for aid in my stumbling interpretation. His rich voice filled the air with edgeless, honeyed beauty of the ancient tongue.*

* Sanskrita, "polished, complete." Sanskrit is the elder sister of all Indo-European tongues. Its alphabetical script is called Devanagari; literally, "divine abode." "Who knows my grammar knows God!" Panini, great philologist of ancient India, paid that tribute to the mathematical and psychological perfection of Sanskrit. He who would track language to its lair must indeed end as omniscient."

To think that last July, a mere day before asking my Teacher for a spiritual name, I came very close to receiving one from the revered Sanskrit scholar and poet who teaches at the ashram during the summer months. By some generous miracle I'm still scratching my head over, I had been invited to take lunch at the ashram cottage with a small group that included both this wonderful elder scholar, who sat beside me, and my Teacher, who sat across from me. I kept very quiet throughout the meal, concentrating on eating with my clumsy right hand instead of my left (out of respect) and trying to hide the fact that I was shaking from head to foot and potentially about to pass out from heat exhaustion. The scholar asked my name and I told him — but as I did the thought popped into my head that it might be polite to make conversation by casually mentioning that I did not yet have a spiritual name.

Luckily, I kept my mouth shut. I was told afterwards that he most probably would have given me a Sanskrit name similar to my Western name on the spot, as he has for many other guests and residents of the ashram throughout the years. Given that my Western name is Melanie, my Sanskrit name most probably would have been Malini, which literally means, the Devi who wears a mala or garland of 50 letters of the Sanskrit alphabet (each of which represents energy in some form).

A beautiful name — but not the right name. A lovely teacher, but not the one I'd decided could name me (and who, a day later, would.)

So by fate (and by keeping my mouth shut) my name really was to become Uma and not Malini. Even so, perhaps I will wear 50 letters of the Sanskrit alphabet someday — not as a garland around my neck, but as a garland around my mind once I've committed them to memory. I know this small feat can't even begin to scratch the surface of Sanskrit's mystical depths, but it represents one more small step in the direction I plan to go in — weaving my own pattern with this life, renewing my mind of the very knowledge I've been discovering and rediscovering, gaining and losing, for what feels like forever.

2012-01-10T18:47:00.000-05:00

Lost mitten. Florence, MA

Resolution: Tea

2012-01-07T18:51:00.002-05:00

My romance with chai has hit the rocks as I try to gain some control over the rosacea flare-ups that increase with the onset of cold weather (and that aren't at all helped by the stress, sugar, and gluten-laden holiday season). I don't believe the black tea in chai is the culprit, but rather the blend of warming spices that accompany it. Since I've been studying the benefits of green tea and herbal tisanes for "tea month" at work, I thought I'd begin the new year with a resolution to replace my morning mug of spicy chai with a small pot of green tea.

All tea, whether green, black, white, oolong, pu-er, kukicha, etc, is derived from one species of plant, Camellia sinensis, a flowering evergreen shrub or small tree native to China, South and Southeast Asia. The wide array of tea choices we have today come as the result of the region and elevation of the tea estate (high elevation tea plants, for example, grow slower and generally provide lighter, more refined flavors) and the season of harvest — as well as the processing, aging and oxidation that occurs after the leaves are picked.

For some varieties, like Ancient Moonlight White, the harvested tea leaves are allowed to naturally wither. Other leaves are dried in the sun, or pan roasted over a fire, as is the case with Jade Bamboo. The smoked black tea Lapsang Suchong is dried in bamboo baskets over pine fires, which achieves its signature balance of smoke and tea flavors. Other varieties are artfully hand rolled, and some pressed into bricks. As a cup of Twisted Leaf Assam from Northeastern, India steeps the leaves unroll and open up.

The green pu-er tea Full Leaf Nanuo from Southern Yunnan, China is harvested from Camellia sinensis trees that are close to 800 years old, and Pan Roasted Green from Jingmai Manjing (also in Yunnan, China, which is considered the birthplace of tea) is made from 600-1200 year old plants! Bilouchun Silver Spiral, grown on Bi Lou Peak in the Dong Ting mountains of Jiangsu and Zhejiang Province, China is harvested from tea shrubs that have been interplanted with plum, peach and apricot trees for shade, which lends a subtle floral aroma to the tea.

The little balls of dried tea pictured above were grown and processed in Pinshui, Zhejiang Province, China the world's largest producer of green tea. It's a “gunpowder” style green (referring to the shape of the tightly rolled leaves) with a roasted, slightly smoky aroma and a rich, sweet vegetal flavor. Three factors determine a high quality pearl tea: 1. Body: should be small, tightly rolled leaves. 2. Regularity: The size of the pearls should be consistent, and 3. Uniform dark color.

This is what a teaspoon of it looks like after it steeps:

I've also replaced my afternoon chai with a cup of grassy herbal Rooibos, which isn't technically a tea but a tisane, as it's harvested from Aspalathus linearis, a member of the legume family grown only in South Africa. According to the research I did for work, Rooibos tea is rich in anti-oxidants, flavonoids, calcium, manganese, fluoride, zinc, alpha-hydroxy acid (which promotes healthy skin) and magnesium which is necessary for a healthy nervous system. In fact it's recommended for people suffering from irritability, headaches, disturbed sleeping patterns, insomnia, nervous tension, mild depression or hypertension and has anti-spasmodic properties, relieving stomach and indigestive problems like nausea, vomiting, heartburn, stomach ulcers and constipation. It's mild tasting and quite good.

While I'm really enjoying this foray into the world of green tea, I'm hoping I won't have to give up chai forever. I'm curious to see what effect, if any, taking a break from it has on my skin and am hesitant to begin eliminating other potential triggers (like dairy, sugar and gluten....noooooo! I love bread!) until I've tried this approach first. Could be I'm simply overheating my already fiery constitution, between the chai spices and the excessive caffeine.

While I'm on the subject of tea, here is the poster I designed for the Apothecary window this month:

Have you resolved to change anything in your diet or lifestyle for health reasons this year?

Two New Prints at Uma's Guest House...

2012-01-04T17:36:00.001-05:00

While the Uma's Guest House logo is still a work in progress, I've added a couple more prints that are more in line with the direction I'd like the artwork in the shop to go in. I may also have some of J's handmade birdhouses listed there soon — we have several similar ones around the vegetable garden, and they are seldom vacant for long in spring.

Moody Ganesha, Remover of Obstacles 8 x 10 Original Photo (Gloss Finish).

Original 8x10 Glossy Photo of Jizo Bosatsu, Protector of children, Expectant Mothers, Firemen, and Travelers.

Now. Not Now.

2012-01-03T22:32:00.001-05:00

"Realization is noticing the endless choices, and making one." — Guru Ganesha Singh

It is for the best that I returned from New Mexico this autumn, I know that. It is for the best that I made my dad that last pineapple upside down cake and saw him for his 80th birthday, it is for the best that we saw each other on Thanksgiving. It is for the best that I didn't come home from school break with plans to see him on Christmas only to find I was one day too late. And of course it is for the best that J and I continue to live in the same time zone as one another, whichever one that ends up being.

Absolutely. No regrets. I see the beauty in the outcome of being here now.

Still, I find my thoughts drifting to the desert tonight where my almost-classmates are meeting my Teacher for the first time as he begins instructing for the last two quarters — a meeting that comes with a great deal of anticipation and excitement — and I can picture the scene so clearly it might as well be streaming live on the internet (though I'm thankful that it's not).

"All is unfolding as it should" a friend who is currently at the school wrote to reassure me. Yes, the universe has always shown this to be the case. Yet even as I see the unfolding, I struggle to have faith in its outcome. Or perhaps it's myself I lack faith in — and this, my Teacher warns, is true sin.

In the Sky. The Last Sunset of 2011.

2011-12-31T22:07:00.000-05:00

Thank you all for the comments and condolences you left on my post about my dad's passing. A week has gone by already and while there's a certain peace and acceptance in my heart that I'm grateful for, it shares space with a great amount of grief. My dad's life was relatively simple perhaps, but he seemed to enjoy it immensely and as I went through my photo albums searching for his face, I realized that he wore a smile in every one of them.

In losing my dad I think J and I are both feeling, among other more personal losses, the loss of our connection to the traditional (and disappearing) New England French Canadian culture that he epitomized. This was always the aspect of my lineage I felt the most connected to. In fact, my brother chose this French song, J'irai la voir un jour for the communion meditation at the funeral, and though the words descended from the choir loft like tears, I had to give the eulogy immediately following it and blocked out its beauty at the time.

But when I hear it now you might as well stab a knife in my heart.

In English:

I'll see her one day
In the Sky, in the Garden
Yes I will see Mary
My joy and my love

In the Sky, in the Sky, in the Sky
I'll see her one day

I'll see her one day
I'll join the angels
To sing her praises
And form her court

I'll see her one day
This so beautiful Virgin
Soon I'll be near her
To say my love

In the Sky, in the Sky, in the Sky
I'll see her one day

I'll see her one day
I'll go near her tomb
To welcome the dove
For the eternal stay

I'll see her one day
I'll go away from earth
To the heart of my mother
To rest with no return

In the Sky, in the Sky, in the Sky
I'll see her one day

I'll see her one day.

Gerry Jolicoeur: October 15, 1931 - December 24, 2011

2011-12-25T22:57:00.003-05:00

My dad's strong and beautiful spirit left his body on the afternoon of Christmas Eve, with my new sister-in-law Grace at his bedside, ten minutes after receiving the Catholic sacrament of last rights. Was it my mom who came to guide him away from his failing physical body as his brain and lungs forgot their common language? Has he been reunited with his brothers and sisters and his own beloved parents on this sacred weekend? Was it his spirit I heard walking beside me, rustling the leaves as I hiked through the sunlit woods on Saturday, still unaware that he was gone from this place?

J and I were to visit him today, for Christmas. The universe had other plans.

Dementia stole so much from my father, but in the end it could not take his integrity, his deep faith, his polite and gentle nature, his quick smile, or his love for his family. His brain may have forgotten how to keep his physical body alive, and couldn't always remember our names, but his heart still recognized my brother and Grace, J and myself — recognized the bond of our love.

My mom and dad, both gone, so deeply missed. It's more important than ever now to stay in the present, lest the past break my heart.

I thank God for my practice and for the generous gifts the universe has given to me over the course of the past two years, gifts of faith and reassurance, the gift of teachers and friends, the blessing of saints, a new way of looking at things that helps to make some sense of this fragile, painful, beautiful, sacred experience we call life.

Akal, dad. May your soul go swiftly to the creator. Thanks for the memories.

Merry Christmas & Happy Holidays...

2011-12-24T22:03:00.000-05:00

...dear readers. May love & light surround you.

The Return of the Light

2011-12-22T22:43:00.000-05:00

asato ma sadgamaya

tamaso ma jyotirgamaya
mrtyorma amrtam gamaya

From ignorance lead me to truth.
From darkness lead me to light.
From death lead me to immortality.

(Brhadaranyaka Upanishad — I.iii.28)

There was no pushing and striving on this solstice, no 54 Sun Salutations.
Instead a simple acknowledgement, inspired by the ever-changing and always entertaining play of life: my path this coming year is going to continue to be towards the light, and when shadows fall across it (as they inevitably will) I will be a light to myself in order to find my way. I will not settle for a substitute. I will not allow the distraction of others to distract me.

Happy return of the light.

May the long time sun shine upon you. All love surround you. And the pure light within you guide your way on....

We Now Interupt Our Regularly Scheduled Program...

2011-12-16T17:55:00.000-05:00

I've been so busy this week I've forgotten to let you know about the gigantic online sale happening now (tomorrow is the last day!) at the Apothecary's online store.

Today most items are 25% off, and tomorrow they'll be 30% off.

My advice: go for the Chocolate Mint Raw Honey. It's delicious, and makes a great stocking stuffer. Loving Cup tea is also an unusual blend and excellent made with milk and finished off with honey and a bit of ghee. Ginger Elixir? Yum. Lavender infused oil? Ahhh. Wild-crafted Eastern Hemlock or Black Spruce hydrosol sprays? Like having the New England forest in a bottle.

Enjoy!

Hope

2011-12-13T21:50:00.000-05:00

Nature's Ice Sculptures

2011-12-11T20:09:00.000-05:00

My long letter to the local land trust is 99% finished, compiled and composed on Friday morning after a peaceful hike through the field and along the river across the street, the land in question (also where I took these photos today).

Since the spraying of Roundup probably won't begin until spring anyway, I may hold off until after the 1st of the year to deliver it — more for the sake of my own pre-holiday sanity than for any other reason.

I love to see what nature's done with the cold and the bits of ice forming along the rivers and punching their way through the soil like glassy mushrooms.

It's getting colder and colder here — and almost time for the winter solstice.

How far away do I need to go to get away from it all?

2011-12-07T17:26:00.003-05:00

This morning we found out that the land trust who owns the pristine and in some sections old-growth forest across the street has deployed a forestry company who will soon begin spraying Round Up on the invasive Garlic Mustard directly across from our driveway and cutting down trees in select patches of the land in order to "encourage woodcock breeding grounds."

The irony is, the woodcock are already there, fluttering into the night sky during the summer with their unmistakable mating calls, and the land trust has even erected an informational sign in the middle of the field to state this fact, along with more signs in the woods to point out how pristine it is (well, was). I don't understand how bringing chainsaws and skidders into what's been an untouched habitat for decades is going to improve the habitat, at least in the short term.

The other irony is that Garlic Mustard is a delicious and highly nutrative food, originally brought to North America in the 1860's by Europeans accustomed to growing it as a culinary pot herb. Garlic mustard is full of vitamins and minerals (vitamins A, C, E and some of the B vitamins, potassium, calcium, magnesium, copper, iron and magnese) and (more uncommonly) used medicincally. The leaves (especially in early spring) can be chopped up and used in salads, sauteed, steamed or used in pesto (as I do, here). The roots, which taste similar to horseradish, can be harvested in fall and utilized in spicy condiments. The prolific seeds can be harvested and used as a spice in cooking and in specific recipes — like this wild mustard seed mayonnaise.

I understand the invasive nature of this non-native species (though I have read that our own native Jewel Weed, another medicinal, outranks it in terms of invasiveness) but I'm becoming fed up with "improvements" that aren't actually improving anything and in some cases making matters worse.

Just for starters, Roundup is known to be fatal to amphibians (who breed and often live our their entire life cycle in the shallow puddles of former agricultural fields such as the one across the street) and this particular issue is currently under review in Canada and with the EPA. According to this 52 page Earth Open Source document, scientific research published in 2010 showed that Roundup and the chemical on which it is based, glyphosate, cause birth defects in frog and chicken embryos at dilutions much lower than those used in agricultural and garden spraying. The study also noted these malformations were similar to human birth defects found in genetically modified soy-producing regions.

Even more frightening, according to the Organic Consumers Association, "a recent study by eminent oncologists Dr. Leonard Hardell and Dr. Mikael Eriksson of Sweden, has revealed clear links between...glyphosate (commonly known as Roundup, marketed by Monsanto), to non-Hodgkins lymphoma, a form of cancer." and studies at the Women’s Cancer Resource Center have shown "that chemicals such as Round-Up can result in reproductive damage as well as damage to the kidney and liver, and some studies show a link between the chemical and cancer."

When I bought my property — 40 minutes away from the nearest shopping center — I traded convenience and community for the pastoral beauty of the surrounding fields and forests, for the "away from it all" feeling I got when I turned into my driveway. The looming reality of toxic chemicals and chainsaws and skidders isn't sitting well with me, to say the least.

One more thing — according to an article in the July 2000 issue of Organic Gardening, "independent scientific studies have shown that Roundup is toxic to earthworms, beneficial insects, birds and mammals, plus it destroys the vegetation on which they depend for food and shelter." A woodcocks diet consist mainly of earthworms. In fact you can tell where they've been by the close-set holes their long beaks poke in the ground as they hunt.

The woodcocks don't need this kind of "help" from the land trust. And J and I don't need man-made signs informing us that they live in the field. We've been listening to them for the past ten years, chirping and singing through the summer nights along with our other beloved neighbors, the frogs.