From the inside out

It's field trip season in Washington DC. I do NOT miss being a teenager. No way!

Over the holiday season, I mistreated my poor, valiant, noble body. I worked too much, didn't stretch enough, ate too much, didn't receive bodywork often enough. All that stupid negligence injured my shoulder. I could feel something bad was going on, but I just kept pushing pushing pushing without seeking treatments to help me heal. Some days it manifested as a terrible stiff neck, other days my shoulder hurt, sometimes both. I kept ignoring it until I was in so much pain I finally broke down and went to see the osteopath.

That was a few weeks ago. Since that first visit I've been diligent about getting top notch therapeutic massage and osteopathic treatment. I've been walking around more, remembering to stretch between sessions at work.

I've also been taking internal arnica, that homeopathic stuff I usually use in the form of a creme or gel smoothed over sore, stiff muscles. When I place the arnica tabs under my tongue, I imagine its essence finding its way into the heart of the injury (wherever that is) and subsequently working its way out to the surface. My mantra is from the inside out.

The arnica has pushed not only the deepest essence of the injury out to the surface, but also a rather monumental cache of emotional injuries I have unconsciously (and inadvertently) stored at the deepest levels of my skeletal structure. Old grudges I've held (without even knowing about them) have arisen into consciousness, people I've been pissed at for years have appeared in dreams and visions, seemingly from out of the nowhere.

I'm a bodyworker so I should know better than to ignore physical pain, yes? I say yes. But sometimes humans ignore pain, I'm not the first and I won't be the last. We always have our reasons, don't we? In working through the healing process, perhaps we are able to access wounds on many levels, as I am at this moment. I'm unclear I would have known there was so much submerged grudginess if I hadn't ignored my shoulder for so long.

I am impatient with clients who don't attend to their pain, but I'm thinking I've been wrong to insist they address what's going on as soon as possible. Maybe they, too, are working through something so deeply ingrained that there's no other way to heal it than to just hurt for awhile.

My shoulder is much better, and I am experiencing forgiveness at a profound level as well. All I can say is: wow.

Last Lap of Winter

I look like a spokesperson for point and shoot cameras.

Bewitched, bothered and bedraggled: yep, that's me in the midst of the final dregs of winter. Though I saw one tree yesterday that has popped, and one precocious tulip in bloom, it's still not quite spring.

The uprushing energy is powerful and - because spring has not yet sprung - exhausting. I know in two weeks this city is going to be gorgeous, but right now most gardens still look beat down, brown and rather forlorn. The trees, oh man, they are SO READY.

I think about the chick in the egg, pecking her way out. It must take tremendous strength, determination, and will power. Spring, too, has to punch her way out of the ground, out from the tips of the branches. Rebirth is hard work! Whoa.

The birds are singing, so that's encouraging. And I guess feeling bedraggled is absolutely appropriate in terms of dancing in shamanic alignment with what's going on. I guess. Ya think?

Happy Sunday y'all.

Jake

Sometimes I miss Jake so much. That dog.

No creature has ever been so devoted to me, never, not ever, the way Jake was. Of course in friendship it would be unhealthy to experience that kind of blind devotion, and while a touch of serious devotion in romance could have been wonderful, (I guess) I never experienced it. I always chose romantic partners who were either so self-involved that they believed my role was to prop them up and/or heal them, or the kind of folks who shared my intimacy issues, hence neither one of us wanted serious closeness.

Do I miss having a dog? No I do not miss picking up poop, vacuuming bushels of dog hair, inspecting every inch of an animal body for ticks. I don't miss the worry I experienced any time I tried to diagnose spells of malaise. I don't miss trips to the vet, the smell of dog food, breaking up dog fights. Nope. It's not about any old dog.

This recurring sense of loss is personal. I miss Jake. It'll be OK, I'll move forward again; I always do. Damn sometimes I miss that dog so much! Sheesh.

The Dance

Ben Franklin, in front of the old post office building.

Today is the day of peace, a day during which about a million people have promised to try to be peaceful and relational all day long. We're going to err on the side of being nice, rather than giving in to the urge to be snarky or judgmental. Click the image on the sidebar to go to the Facebook page describing this event.

I have a full schedule of clients, all of whom I admire, and no plans for this evening, so I should be good to go. Or so I think. You never know what's going to happen, yes? I "see" a peaceful day ahead but who knows? A meteor could strike the planet or anything could happen.

(Shrugging shoulders.) I'll give it my best shot.

My day of peace today is without agenda, since I'm going not only for peaceful behavior, but peaceful mind. I'm not thinking that this peaceful day will change the world, or even should change the world. I'm not worried about a backlash of bad behavior personally or collectively after today. I'm not bemoaning the fact that we homo sapiens could or should be a peaceful species all the way around; we aren't peaceful so wishing/hoping for anything like that would just get me into a state of self-loathing. I have a warrior soul; I enjoy tilting against things: the weather, pollen, infecting viruses and bacteria, other people and other points of view. In general, I accept my tumultuous nature.

But I like the idea of free will, I enjoy the thought that I can go against my human nature if I choose, just to see what happens. I'm all over the idea that for one day, I can choose to enact the dance of peace.

Shalom, y'all. Shalom.


Ben's shadow.

Cause and Effect

Splendid sparkles on the reflecting pool west of the Capitol. That cool shape in the background is the Indian Museum.

It was gorgeous yesterday, warm with a nice breeze. So I walked - of course! It was a nice, long walk all over the national mall, downtown, then home again. And yeah I was sneezing a little bit, my eyes itched. I had the presence of mind to buy some Claritin, pop one. But of course I kept walking. At the conclusion of winter, especially this past winter which was so cold, seemed so long, it was glorious to stretch my legs, connect with the uprushing energy of spring (the trees are going to pop any day), listen to the birds.

Ahhhhh ...

Unbeknownst to me, even though nothing has bloomed, spring pollens were on the move, riding the wave of that sweet breeze somewhat in the same way that I travel to Zone 10. Hmmm. The grains of pollen landed in my hair, on my clothes, found their way into my eyes and of course I inhaled them in great, ecstatic gulps of air. Towards the end of my walk, things took a turn for the worse. Last evening I spent a lot of time blowing my nose, way more time than I would have preferred.

One thing I continue to be baffled by is my body's resistence to the magic of pollen. My immune system considers the powerful life force of springtime to be an enemy of great proportion. My immune system thinks spring pollens are toxic.

It's an odd quirk of body/mind/spirit - a conflict - a big problem. I have acupuncture and herbal teas and Claritin, homeopathic remedies, yeah yeah. Nothing I do completely resolves this inner conflict, however. A sneezing shaman? It ain't right, I tell you! It ain't right.


Rising on some invisible spiral of energy, these sea gulls whirled in circles above the Capitol just as I walked past, then landed again on the water in the reflecting pool, as if nothing had happened. Very cool.

The Power of Dirt

I'm back from Zone 10, feet on the ground, oh yeah. Thanks to the brisk, beautiful, pre-spring day yesterday, I was able to get outside and walk around for hours. There is nothing more grounding - literally - than connecting with dirt.

Indeed.

Just now I got the go-ahead from my housemates here at the chateau to plant herbs this summer. I'm thinking about the herbs I use all the time when I cook - parsley, basil, rosemary, thyme. I might also plant some lavender because lavender is great for everything.

There are so many trees on Tennessee Avenue that, although we tried, we were never successful in our attempts to grow herbs. But here on E. Capitol Street there's always plenty of sunshine.

Speaking of the power of dirt, the bulb flowers are rising, pushing their sturdy leaves above ground, towards the sky. I can't wait to see the daffodils, jonquils. I'm so eager to see the pear trees pop. Spring is so close you can almost touch it. I can't wait!

Zone 10

The title of this post refers to a technique for moving through time, using breath and the wind - allegedly, that is. I'm learning this technique in dreamtime. In fact, I received a second lesson this morning just before I woke up. I am telling you, the whole shamanic lifestyle? It is deeply strange, deeply.

When in doubt (about one's sanity), walk and cook. That's my plan for today. A big ole walk will actually be fun today since the sun is shining and it's supposed to get warm enough to enjoy being outside (50 F). Haven't decided what to cook yet, but I'm thinking something complicated will serve to bring me back from Zone 10 to the beautiful, exquisite, delightful, mundane reality of my very fortunate life.

Some days I need to remind myself that, yes, I'm a shaman, but I'm also a woman, you know, a person: a human. I can fly around on the wind for only so long before it's time for a cup of coffee or whatever. Because of my exotic imagination, I really enjoy everyday activities like doing the laundry, vacuuming, cooking, walking around. One of my great teachers always used to say, Body trumps spirit.

Balance is everything, always always. Oh yeah. Earth to Reya: come back from Zone 10. OK, OK ... on my way.