macro-inspired mindfulness

Ok, so before I say anything else beyond the title of this blog post, let me just say that I am not following the macrobiotic diet by any stretch of the imagination. Um, hello caffeine! Bread! Sugar! Spicy food! (all of which are generally not prescribed in a macro diet)

That said... there's something inspiring about the macrobiotic diet lifestyle. I say "lifestyle", because I learned that there's SO much more to it than what you put on your plate. It's not simply about the ubiquitous "macrobiotic bowls" that you might see in vegetarian restaurants; you know, the brown rice, vegetables, sea vegetables, sesame seeds combination.  You might even hear more exotic-sounding ingredients like umeboshi plum and burdock.

Rather, it's an approach, a process, a way of thinking and sensing, of being in harmony with the seasons. Balancing yin and yang. Let me also say that this is my oversimplified description - it's a very, very, old philosophy that people study for years - and so I will not even claim to know the tip of the iceberg. And most macro folks (I think) seem to follow it as close to 100% as possible. My sweet friend Debra-Lynn writes about her macrobiotic healing journey and recipes on her facebook page, Going Macro. She even makes macrobiotic veggie burgers. Yum!

She and I had a recent conversation about spirituality in relation to food. But that will be for another blog post.

At any rate... a huge part of the macro lifestyle is the approach to eating - to really pause while you eat, engage the senses, and - gasp! - chew your food until nearly liquid (because digestion starts in the mouth). How's that for mindfulness?

Ok, that part stopped me in my tracks.

Does anyone do that? Chew food till nearly liquid? Do you? If so, I'd love to know how you do it.

Clockwise from top left: the scene that greeted us in the morning on our trip to Boracay (a small island in the Philippines). Breakfast meant tea and a HUGE plate of the world's best mangoes and papaya (biased much?). And, a rare occurrence on this blog - an actual photo of me, thanks to this friend. I was chewing on the center, stony part of the mango. I had one side, my friend the other - as we say in  our language, "hating kapatid" (sharing between siblings). I definitely savored every last bit. 

Sure, I get the part about pausing. I get slowing down and engaging the senses; I do try my best to practice all that as I chop vegetables, stir ingredients in a pot, watch and wait as the heat gently transforms the food, and then sit down to eat. But there are times when I do just scarf down my food, standing beside the kitchen counter. Tell me I'm not the only one?

(crickets)

Part of it, I think (or as I understand), is learning to be in tune with your body and what it needs to be nourished and healed.

I think it's why I favor certain foods while I'm sick. For me, that's miso soup, homemade ginger-honey-lemon "tea" (I think "infusion" is the more proper term), and - get this - brown rice. Probably the most commonly known macrobiotic food.

I don't know what it is, but when I'm sick, probably second to soup I instinctively want brown rice. When I have an upset stomach - yes, brown rice. When I'm stressed out and don't have much of an appetite (shocker) but know I need to eat something to avoid passing out - you guessed it, brown rice. Even plain - just cooked in either plain water or homemade veggie broth and a little bit of salt.

It turns out, when I started reading more about macrobiotics out of curiosity, brown rice is just chock-full of good stuff. I always knew brown rice was generally better than the polished white variety (well, except for Indian food... in which case it just has to be the fluffy white basmati rice).  I've been eating it for many years now and I knew that it had more protein and fiber and all that good stuff. But it also has trace minerals like manganese and selenium, as well as B vitamins.

So when I was sick last week, I seemed to just naturally gravitate toward pausing to eat slowly and mindfully. Almost as if my body just knew what it needed, without any reminding. To gently heat water for miso soup (it should not be boiled!), cook some brown rice and rhythmically chop vegetables. I think there's so much innate wisdom in our bodies, we just tend to forget in a world of fast food.

miso soup

And ok, a poached egg too. I know, it's not macrobiotic. But a lot of things are just better with a poached egg in my opinion :)

Regardless - that bowl of rice felt even more satisfying, and so deeply nourishing... simple as it was, with just some chopped carrots and scallions and a touch of sesame oil and tamari sauce. I held the pretty bowl, cupping it in my palms and letting its heat warm my hands. I watched the steam slowly rising from the mound of rice; and smelled the hint of nuttiness from the rice and toasted sesame. And I really, really tasted how sweet the carrots were. And how chewy the grains of rice felt against my teeth. Right then and there, my very simple meal seemed to taste infinitely better.

But whether you practice a macro lifestyle or not - I think there are so many lessons to learn from it. To be mindful about your food, to savor and appreciate it, and be grateful for it as much as possible. And that just elevates any everyday experience to something... sacred.

Macro or not. But I can say, macro-inspired.

Even when it's cake. You know what, let me correct myself. Especially when it's cake.

on mindfulness, abundance, and gratitude

This time between Diwali and Thanksgiving has made me reflect on abundance and gratitude. I think they go hand-in-hand; as we recognize the abundance in our lives instead of focusing on all those "things" that we wish for, gratitude comes next.

Many times, I catch myself thinking, oh, I wish we had this piece of furniture or this or that or the other thing. We're only human, right? But nothing else jarred me back to my senses than the recent disaster that was Sandy. People suffered damage to their homes -- their shelter, for crying out loud, and here I am wishing for a new couch. 

I wish it wouldn't always come to that - for a tragic event as a reminder to be grateful. Why does that happen? A health emergency reminds us to be grateful for the health that we do have. An experience of loss or grief reminds us to be grateful for the people in our lives.

So I try to express gratitude as much as I can. For the abundance I have - love, friendship, health, work. And yes, even the challenges.

And for the little things. The stranger at the checkout line that lets me go ahead. The way my nerves, bones, joints, muscles, tendons, and every little part of my body work together so that I can enjoy my walk in the sunshine or a yoga pose. The little (but big) things that my husband does for me, like fill my gas tank the night before, when he knows I have a morning appointment.

I think it's mindfulness that connects the dots between abundance and gratitude. When I am mindful of the little things, it's much easier to recognize abundance and feel gratitude. If not for mindfulness, it's also easy to forget how important these "little" things are and how they enrich my life in so many ways. The extraordinary in the everyday.

To me, nothing else says it better than this poem...

Mindful
By Mary Oliver

Every day
   I see or hear
      something
         that more or less

kills me
   with delight,
      that leaves me
         like a needle

in the haystack
   of light.
      It was what I was born for—
         to look, to listen,

to lose myself
   inside this soft world—
      to instruct myself
         over and over

in joy,
   and acclamation.
      Nor am I talking
         about the exceptional,

the fearful, the dreadful,
   the very extravagant—
      but of the ordinary,
         the common, the very drab,

the daily presentations.
   Oh, good scholar,
      I say to myself,
         how can you help

but grow wise
   with such teachings
      as these—
         the untrimmable light

of the world,
   the ocean’s shine,
      the prayers that are made
         out of grass?

what's the world coming to?

So I heard on NPR that the day after Thanksgiving, or what is known as Black Friday, is also the "National Day of Listening". On this day, we are encouraged to invite someone to talk for an hour, while we listen.

I understand this is well-intentioned, but really?

We actually need an authority (whatever or whoever that may be) to tell us to listen to someone? We actually need to mark this day on the calendar? So what do we do on the other 364 days?

Just throwing my question out there.

"push and yield"

An excerpt from one of my favorite yoga books:

"Every yoga posture involves a 'push' and a 'yield'. Pushing is an active force that moves the body further and deeper into the posture, gently exploring areas of tightness. Yielding is a passive force with which you wait and listen to the moment-to-moment feedback from your body; it's a letting go of resistance that allows the active force to be successful without being aggressive. The pushing and yielding elements occur simultaneously, as in a dance. Done properly, therefore, yoga is a matter of pushing and yielding, of 'doing' and 'not-doing,' at the same time."

- Erich Schiffman, Yoga: The Spirit and Practice of Moving Into Stillness, p. 48

Isn't this how we should live life? To aspire for balance through pushing and yielding. We need that "push" to challenge ourselves, but we also need to know when to "yield" and let go of control.

More to learn. So much to learn.

what's your story?

The body holds stories.

The body holds memories. Just as it holds tension. The aches and pains are related to certain experiences, whether it's an injury, a stressful experience, or an important event. Where you feel the tension, tightness, or aches may change, depending on where you are right now. On your story at this moment. Our bodies hold stories, and we have to listen.

I realized, that in addition to my aches and pains in my lower back (from not knowing how to sit properly - thanks to chairs that are almost always oversized for my... ahem... petite stature), hips (from sitting A LOT at the computer for work and school), and shoulders (ditto), I also tend to hold tension in my jaw. Not good.

A little TMI: My dentist, on my last visit a month or so ago, said, "I see you've been grinding your teeth at night." She asked me if I wake up with a sore jaw and/or a headache. Or if I subconsciously tighten my jaw when I'm concentrating or when I'm tense. I told her I never paid attention to that.

(And since I AM concentrating right this second I had to draw attention to my jaw just to make sure it's relaxed.)

Now that I'm trying to be more aware, I realize that yes I do sometimes wake up with a sore jaw and a headache. And yes I tend to tighten my jaw when I'm focusing, or when under stress. The body doesn't lie.

And I have to admit, that for someone who LOVES movement - from years of gymnastics, dance, swimming, yoga, etc... I don't always have the most keen sense of body awareness when I'm not doing any of the above activities.

Which tells me... that I still have so much to learn. About self-awareness. Self-monitoring. Stress management. Easing physical tension as a way to ease mental and emotional tension. 

During a yoga practice, instructors would usually remind people to relax the jaw during savasana. Or any other pose. To relax the forehead and the space between the eyebrows. To relax the facial muscles even while in a challenging pose. To just breathe. It's something I have said myself in classes I have taught before, and it's something that I'm still reminding myself to do outside of an asana practice. To be self-aware in other areas of my life. It is a challenge, given that my story at this moment (and for the next couple of years) is one of intense pressure. Deadlines. Performance. Which makes it all the more important, so I can get through this current stage in my life with some degree of self-care and well-being.

So what's your story? What story are your muscles and bones telling you? Are you a writer with wrist issues? A chef on your feet all day? Does your back beg to be massaged after a day of lifting heavy items? Or does your heart feel heavy after listening to other people and helping them work through their problems?

What story are you holding in your body? Where in your body do you feel blocked? And how do you listen to your body?

patient anticipation

I love this time of year.

It's the time for the "in-between". When I start noticing that the snow is slowly beginning to melt and the days are getting slightly longer. The birds are chirping in the morning. The sky is showing its vivid shade of blue. It's not quite spring yet... it's a couple of weeks more till the vernal equinox on the 20th, and I am eagerly but patiently awaiting spring.

Yesterday and today are unusually sunny days here in Northern Ohio. Sure, the trees are still bare, and there's still LOTS of snow on the ground. But I welcomed the contradiction between cold air and bright sunshine, the contradiction between deep snow on the ground and cloudless blue skies. I went for a walk and made friends with a delightful yellow lab (my dream dog, who I will have someday and will name "Summer").

I walked in the snow to photograph some trees, delighted that the snow was now just ankle-deep and not knee-deep. For a few moments, I ignored the cold that was seeping through my running shoes... and instead breathed in the freshness of the morning air, and the warm sunshine on my face. I breathed in the sight of the perfect blue sky. I breathed out my thanks.

There's something about that "in-between" time during the transition between seasons. This almost-but-not-quite time makes me so excited. It's a time to tune in to the little changes every day that lead us closer to spring. It's a time to enjoy waiting, and to accept that nature will unfold on its own... knowing and trusting that it will fulfill its promise. 

There is no better shade of blue than this.

tune in, respond, adjust

In a recent yoga class, we held Warrior 1 for several breaths. I always find it interesting when we hold poses for several seconds. For one, it gives me time to check in with my mind and body. Are my thoughts wandering? Am I still breathing deeply? Am I fully aware of where my body is in space? Am I fully aware of what I'm feeling, where I am feeling relaxation and where I am feeling tension or discomfort? What do I need to adjust in this pose so I can relax better and breathe better?

It sure sounds like a lot of questions. Which is why despite having a home practice, I like going to a class once or twice a week, because with an instructor leading the class, I am able to just listen and feel.

In Warrior 1, there are many things to attend to. Front knee directly over ankle. Front thigh parallel (or as close to parallel as you can) to the floor. Back leg strong and grounded, extended backward. Back foot at a 45-degree angle, planted firmly on the floor. Hips squared towards the front of the room (imagine that they are headlights). Ribcage lifted. Sides lengthened, arms strong and extended upward, energy through the fingertips. Shoulders relaxed and down. Head in neutral to look forward or turned slightly upward to gaze at the hands. Facial muscles relaxed. Breaths are deep and even.

Sounds like a lot, doesn't it? Staying in a pose does require tuning in to little signals. It requires awareness to make necessary adjustments, to make the pose better and safer for your body as well as to maximize the stretch.

Isn't that the same thing we need to do in life? We immerse ourselves in an experience, and tune in to what is going on - both externally and internally. We stay perceptive to change. We respond and make adjustments. I think we do this all the time. From the seemingly mundane activities like cooking (which I never think as mundane, actually!) to the things we do at work, the things we do in our interactions with others.

I always think about how this is at work in my life. 

I recently taught a class at the university, about family-professional collaboration. One recent activity we had the students do is to discuss case studies - which were unresolved dilemmas, many of which require moral and ethical decisions. It is an exercise that requires communication, team collaboration, and problem solving. As an instructor I spent a great deal of time preparing for this exercise, reading on the research-based practices on how to effectively implement this activity for students. But it was not done as soon as students came to a consensus and to a resolution. I also spent a great deal of time afterward reflecting on the experience and on the feedback from students. Tuning in. Responding. Adjusting. Thinking about how to make the experience better in the future.

Or in photography - we tune in to our subject. We respond and take a photo. We adjust the camera and lens settings, and try again for a better shot.

Relationships are the same - whether with family, friends, or coworkers. We tune in to verbal and nonverbal signals when communicating. We respond with sincerity. We may agree to disagree, and we take deep breaths when angry. We adjust, we meet halfway. We come to a shared understanding.

Tune in, respond, adjust. More life's lessons from yoga.

How do you tune in? I'd love to hear from you.

perfection

 

25 degrees Fahrenheit today, light snow, with wind from the North at 1 mph, according to weather.com.

I've been watching the snow from my window tonight, feeling blissful after a kick-butt, feel-the-burn yoga class and a delicious savasana. The snow is different tonight. It's not the relentless kind that guarantees a half hour of digging out your car the next morning, the way we've had it the past few weeks. Tonight it's falling slowly, gracefully. Without any urgency, any rush.... much like how I feel after this yoga class. The snowflakes are larger than usual, almost like little white feathers. I've only experienced snow for the last six years, and until now I can't get over how beautiful and perfect snowflakes are. Especially the kind we have right now. 

As a child growing up in a tropical country, I've always wondered why snowflake designs or snowflake cutouts (you know, the kind they use to decorate storefronts) look the way they are - rays radiating from a center with intricate lines and details. I just dismissed it, thinking someone just thought to draw them that way. 

Then in 2003, during my first winter, I finally understood. During the first snowfall of the season, I bundled up and went outside. Snowflakes landed on my black coat, and I realized that when you look really closely, that's how they look - rays radiating from a center in perfect symmetry. Well, perfect to my naked eye, at least. But I trust in nature, as nature is the perfect design. When I finally saw a real snowflake for what it was, I was brought to tears. It was a profound experience. I suddenly remembered learning about fractals in school - the idea of a complex structure of self-similar patterns. Yes, I know that there is a mathematical something or other that explains it, which I do not have the ability to explain myself. But looking at this perfection... this is not the work of human hands.

It also brings me to think about the fact that there is perfection in all of us. And it's not perfection in an "egotistical" sense. It's not vanity. It's more like being at peace with the self. When we release judgment, we see our goodness and inner light.

That's another thing that I realize through yoga... as I settle into my space, I settle into being. I meet myself where I am, in perfect acceptance. Without needing to be something other than who I am. Without judgment. Towards myself, or others. Realizing that I am right where I need to be. And there's the perfection of that moment. 

Here's a mantra for a heart chakra meditation: "I am safe. I am whole. I am loved." 

Enjoy the sweetness of perfection.

 

Snowflake image courtesy of Free ClipArt at cksinfo.com.

seek passion

 

Ikebana at the North Carolina Arboretum

Passion makes the old medicine new:
Passion lops off the bough of weariness.
Passion is the elixir that renews:
how can there be weariness 
when passion is present?
Oh, don't sigh heavily from fatigue:
seek passion, seek passion, seek passion!

- Rumi

How do we seek passion in our lives?

I chose to post these ikebana pictures, because it so clearly illustrates the idea of putting passion into what you are doing versus just doing it.  Ikebana is not just a matter of shoving flowers into a vase. It's an art form that that requires one to be mindful, to be present. It requires both discipline and creative expression. It's an example that rules can coexist with passion. In many ways, it's how I would like to live my life. 

 

Ikebana at the North Carolina Arboretum

Do we go from day to day on auto-pilot? Or do we immerse ourselves fully in every moment?

I just had an interesting conversation with someone today who said that she likes feeling "jazzed-up" in her work. I like that.

I have to admit, there have been times when I practiced yoga on auto-pilot. You know how it goes: inhale, sweep arms up overhead, exhale and fold forward, inhale to lengthen the spine, exhale to step feet back in plank, inhale in plank, exhale to lower. Inhale to upward dog, exhale to downward dog. Neglect how you feel, forget to breathe deeply, obsess about the time. Yes, I've been there.

When you do something often enough there is a tendency to do it automatically. To take shortcuts. It happens in day to day routines, and it happens in my yoga practice too.

It takes some reminding to make myself more fully aware of what kind of practice I need on any given day.

I've learned that it's so important to check in with myself at the beginning of each yoga practice. To just sit and breathe, and be aware of any physical sensations and yes, even emotions, that need attention. Whatever we feel inside, is usually manifested outside - in how we breathe, how we tighten our shoulders, how we tighten our jaw and facial muscles.

I've learned that those 5-10 minutes --of just sitting and practicing pranayama (breath work)--tells me a lot. Sometimes it tells me I need a flowing vinyasa sequence; sometimes it tells me to slow down with a softer, slower yin practice. Sometimes it tells me to sit and breathe some more; and sometimes it tells me that I need a deep, delicious relaxation in savasana. That time of sitting and breathing also reminds me to enjoy whatever I decide to do. To put passion into it. Whether it's a breath that goes deep into your belly, a nice spine-lengthening downward dog or a rhythmic, flowing vinyasa. I've been in classes with instructors who tell you to close your eyes during a sun salutation. I think that helps me really feel the poses -- the movements, the transitions, and the pauses. It helps me put passion into it.

The same goes for whatever else we do in life... seek passion!

snow day = slow day

Ever since I moved to this colder and more snowy city, I have to admit that I have a tendency to obsess over the forecast on weather.com. Being the control-freak-in-recovery that I am, knowing the hour-by-hour forecast is somehow very...comforting.

I have to remind myself not to stress out about it, because 1) I am back home this afternoon and have no other reason to go out driving; 2) it's pretty toasty warm in my apartment; and 3) I have the luxury of sitting in my room and looking out the window to watch the falling snow.

(If you are out and about and have to face the roads tonight, I'm sending you some positive energy.)

The other thing about snow days is that it reminds me to slow down. I am working mostly from home today but I just took a nice 10 minute break from work to get up, stretch, and enjoy a short tea ritual.

For me it always has to start with boiling water in a real kettle. No microwave water here. Microwaved water makes the tea taste flat.

Then I take this wonderful green tea blend from my favorite tea place in Cincinnati. I'm glad I got a refill when I went back for a visit a few weekends ago.

I take in the scents as I open the canister. Wine connoisseurs swirl their wine in their glass and take a sniff. I like opening tea canisters to take a whiff of good quality loose tea leaves.

If I can make this a scratch-n-sniff photo I would. Just smelling it is an experience in itself.

Here's the description:

"Luminous green tea infused with cheerful mango-apricot flavors and flower blossoms. Evocative of a sunny spring meadow."

Isn't it beautiful?

Had this with some Meyer lemon bars which I made last Sunday. The tangy-sweet citrus flavors of the Meyer lemon bars complemented the tea nicely.

I sat in the kitchen to watch the falling snow. I sipped tea, took deep belly breaths, and felt thankful for being safe and warm today.

I have an even greater respect for those who drive the snow ploughs, who go out in the elements to keep us safe. Another reason to be thankful.

I send out positive energy to my loved ones who have to drive home from work tonight. I wish for your safety. You know who you are. :)

live in balance

"Live in balance between the head and the heart by filling your feelings with wisdom and your decisions with love." - Innerspace

the heart chakra

I've been reflecting on the heart chakra lately. I don't know if it's because Valentine's Day is coming up, as cliche as that sounds. I prefer to call it El Dia De Amor Y Amistad--the Day of Love and Friendship-- which is how February 14th is celebrated in other countries, as a good friend of mine told me (thanks, RZ).

Back to the heart chakra. This excerpt is from Yoga Journal:

"Through the heart chakra, we open to and connect with harmony and peace. The health of our heart center registers the quality and power of love in our life. In Sanskrit, the heart chakra is called Anahata, which means “unstruck” or “unhurt.” Its name implies that deep beneath our personal stories of brokenness and the pain in our heart, wholeness, boundless love, and a wellspring of compassion reside." - Barbara Kaplan Herring

I thought that was a beautiful definition.

It reminds me about what yoga really is - union. That yes, even with pain, sadness, and brokenness, we are all capable of offering love and compassion. And we are capable of receiving it too. It's all part of that oneness. We are also capable of being compassionate towards ourselves. Which I think is harder sometimes.

It makes me think about the thoughts, experiences, and memories that may keep me from being open in my heart's center. All these things that we hold on to, we feel in the tightness in certain areas of our body, when we contract and tighten to protect ourselves, or to keep from letting go of something that we need to let go of. Which is why backbending, a great heart chakra-opening pose, can be so challenging sometimes. I know it because my body doesn't lie. It's right there in my hip flexors. Ouch.

*Play background music here: "Fear... can stop your love and...love...can stop your fear..." (Morcheeba, Big Calm)*

I am reminded of how easy backbending is as a child. I remember doing it all the time as an 8-year-old, with hardly any discomfort. I wonder if it has to do with the fact that children are fully present. They let go. They may get into fights among themselves, and then not long after that they are fine. Well, life isn't that simple anymore. As adults, we tend to hold onto things longer.

 

(photo taken by Dad in New Hampshire, summer 2006)

 

I went to a challenging yoga class a few weeks ago. The instructor had us hold Warrior II (photo above) for what felt like a REALLY long time. Not only that, she had us go deeper, till your front thigh was parallel to the floor (still keeping knee above ankle). And this was after several sweaty sun salutations. And yes, we had to breathe deeply and fully (of course, right?!). Then she said, "Think about something that happened that is causing annoyance that you are holding on to. Sometimes it's something so petty, sometimes it's more serious. Visualize where your level of annoyance is. As you sink your hips lower into your Warrior, deepen your breath, and with every exhale, lower that level of annoyance. See the level go down with every exhale."

Whoa. Now that was intense.

But that's what the physical practice of yoga helps us with. It helps us recognize those areas in our life that we need to face and work through. Those things that cause us to tighten, contract, and close up. Those things that we need to let go of to move forward, so that we can be open, so that compassion can flow in and out of our hearts more easily. When we ease gently into a challenging asana and let go through the breath, or decide to let go of something that holds us down, we create space. We create space in our bodies, and we create space in our hearts and minds for more positivity to enter. That's what is so transformative about yoga.

A thought has been forming in my mind about a yoga practice of asanas for opening the heart chakra. More on that later...

enjoy NOW

Here is today's "tea fortune" - what I find to be a more fun version of a fortune cookie - from the tag of a Yogi Tea bag:

"Whatever you are doing now is the most beautiful thing."

What a great reminder!

This weekend has been quite busy. I spent most of my time at home, sorting, cleaning, organizing... and somewhere in between, doing work for my online class. I'm getting a lot out of this class, but for the record, I would say it's at least 50% more work than being in a "live" class. And in all honesty, I haven't been feeling very "yogic" these days.

So I took a break and had a cup of tea. With sudden inspiration, I decided to work on a little project: hand cream!

I started with an 8-ounce tub of 100% pure shea butter from this market, for $8. I thought it was a great deal, though perhaps not the most attractive. Not that it had to be, but it was a mass of white, lumpy... stuff, for lack of a better word. However, shea butter is a really effective, natural moisturizer, and a little bit goes a long way. I work in a hospital and wash my hands so many times during the day, and in the evenings I like to cook/bake, so my hands end up feeling like the Sahara sometimes.

Anyway. I thought I could make it just a little bit more fancy with ingredients I have at home. I set up my makeshift double boiler, which is nothing more than a medium saucepan of gently simmering water reaching about an inch or so, and a heatproof bowl (I use Pyrex) that fits right on top of the saucepan, with the water not touching the bottom of the bowl.

I dumped all the shea butter into the Pyrex bowl, and let the steam from the water melt the shea butter gently. I used a spatula to break up the large lumps and stir it occasionally. Then when it was in liquid form, I added about a quarter cup (maybe a bit more...this is just a "guesstimate") of extra virgin olive oil and some extra virgin cold-pressed coconut oil. I decided to add the coconut oil because it is solid at room temperature, so I thought it would help the mixture set better.

And since I love all things lavender, I added several drops of lavender essential oil--enough for me to catch a whiff of it, but not too much that it becomes overpowering.

I breathed in the relaxing scent of lavender... aaaah.

I reflected on my "tea fortune" again.

"Whatever you are doing now is the most beautiful thing." And really, this can apply to anything - even mundane things like washing dishes, or the laundry. Ugh. I am reminded of the rising pile in my laundry basket. Okay, maybe not the laundry.

But back to my project. I just gave the mixture a gentle stir, then strained it through a fine mesh strainer (as natural shea butter may have some small dark particles in it from the nut) it as I poured it into small jars with tight-fitting lids, and placed them in the refrigerator to set.

That's how the mixture looks in liquid form, above, in the little containers. I wish I had fancier glass jars, but I happened to have those travel-size containers (probably from the dollar store).

I couldn't believe how easy it was!

I've been using it frequently today. It's lightweight, and absorbs easily into the skin... and it smells divine! I won't be using store-bought hand cream for a really long time.

Maybe next time I'll try different scents. I wonder if my bergamot essential oil would work well. Or vanilla....mmmm.

Until then, back to work...

the darling buds of.... April

I'm not attempting to correct Shakespeare's sonnet Shall I Compare Thee in which he wrote "rough winds do shake the darling buds of May."

But I wanted to capture the changes and transitions that this season brings. I love spring. It's almost... magical. I love the word SPRING and how it sounds, and the images and phrases it evokes in my mind. Spring forward. Spring in my step. It's about everything fresh and new. It's about feeling a renewed sense of energy after being dormant (at least I was) for the past three months. I've been taking more walks outside, and each time I wonder, where was I all winter?

I am filled with the heady scent of spring.

feeding my soul... some more

I wouldn't call myself an artist... I'm not an art critic, and I don't have any formal art training. But as someone who appreciates art, I think I can be a pretty good spokesperson for it. :)

Last Sunday I had the pleasure of going to another art show with this friend, to see the work of Tara Donovan at the Contemporary Arts Center.

I can't begin to describe Tara Donovan's work. Look her up on the internet, and you'll find some interesting descriptions and photos... but nothing compares to actually being there, experiencing it. There are no words for it. Her sculptures silenced me, gave me goosebumps and chills down my spine (in a good way), and brought me back to my center the way no other art has. It was actually... yogic. I could really see myself going back there to just sit in that space, and meditate on her art... like meditating on a mandala.

At the art shop of the CAC, I came across a book: "Seeing is Forgetting the Name of the Thing One Sees" by Lawrence Weschler. I think that phrase captured my experience that day.

Her work is on exhibit at the CAC until May 3rd. Oh, and did I mention that if you're an Enjoy the Arts member*, you can get 2 free tickets to the Contemporary Arts Center (among other places)? Otherwise, tickets are still under $10... a small price to pay for an incredible art experience.

*I personally think that the Enjoy the Arts membership is one of THE BEST things about this city.

a deliciously slow morning

I woke up this morning at 7:20 am, without an alarm clock. And it's Sunday. For me, that's EARLY.

But as early as it was, I felt rested, even after 6 or so hours of sleep. Coming from someone who needs 7-8 hours, that's unusual. It must be the morning sunshine, the warmth pouring into my bedroom and onto my skin. This is what waking up should be.

I checked the time and couldn't believe that it was only 7 in the morning. I thought maybe the power went off sometime during the night and my clock was wrong. I checked the time on my cell phone. Yes, it was 7:20.

Today, the first of March, holds the promise of spring, the coming warmth, longer days, and baby leaves.

I get up and look for my camera.

Two hours later...






It is a quiet morning, save for the sound of the camera clicking. It is a morning meant for taking pause. Forgotten tea.

*Thank you, EyesOpenWide, for the really great mug!*

remedy for work/school burn-out

I haven't written since Thanksgiving!

Here are my excuses – work burn-out, vacation, and my s-l-o-w computer which I need to update badly.

(I actually wrote this entry in early January, but have been unable to post it on cyberspace for some reason...)

December left me pretty burned out. I've never embraced a vacation with more open arms than I did when I left for New Jersey/New York to spend the holidays with my brother and his family.

But, getting there was not without (mis)adventure. It was the 23rd of December, the day freezing rain turned the roads into what seemed like an ice skating rink. We were on our way to the airport when the car we were in slid on ice and turned 360 about 2 or 3 times, and we ended up on this grassy field next to the road. Thankfully we didn't crash into anything and no one was hurt. The one driving us was so calm -- he just resumed driving, and we arrived at the airport with time to spare. Had I been the one driving, I would have been in a cold sweat, knees shaking, with no desire to drive for the next several days.

Flight delays and all, I did finally arrive, and was greeted by my adorable nephews (who are 8 and 6). I finally met my 4-month-old niece who, during the course of my vacation, was always held and carried by me or another uncle or aunt. (Felt sorry for my niece's mom afterwards, since she kept fussing and wanting to be carried the whole week after I left).

Babies are amazing... they are such a great reminder of everything beautiful and joyful and peaceful. In March 2008 my grandmother passed, but my family was blessed with 2 new nieces - one born in August, the next one born in September. And that's how life is.

Babies are so.... ZEN.

I love this moment with my niece... she found her hands!

Needless to say, this was such a refreshing vacation, with the right combination of action and down-time, which as you can tell, mostly consisted of time watching, adoring, and holding my new niece.

when the body says "enough is enough!"

I'm sure you've all had those caffeinated, running-around-like-a-headless-chicken kind of days.

Between working and going to school, traveling to attend and present at a conference, and just keeping up with the demands of each jam-packed day, my body finally said, "Enough." I got sick two weeks ago, and was pretty miserable in a self-imposed quarantine for a whole weekend plus the following Monday and Tuesday. And the fact that I've fallen off the exercise wagon for the past few (ok, several) weeks doesn't help my immune system one bit.

If you (or the people around you) are dropping like flies with the cold and flu, here are some remedies I swear by:

Warm saltwater. Mom and Grandma were right. At the first sign of a cold, gargle frequently with a mixture of warm water and some sea salt. This can reduce the swelling in the nasal and throat passageways (which happens when you have a cold).

Avoid dairy products. Dairy products can increase mucous production in the body. And excess mucus = breeding ground for bacteria. This is why having a cold can pave the way for a bacterial infection.

Apple cider vinegar. First thing in the morning, I mix a tablespoonful or so of unfiltered apple cider vinegar (such as Bragg's) and a couple of teaspoons of raw honey into a cup of warm water. Unfiltered apple cider vinegar soothes a sore throat, and honey has antibacterial properties. Sip slowly. This worked wonders for me, especially since I hate waking up in the morning when I have a cold and feel all this gunk in my throat (sorry to be descriptive). Another bonus? Apple cider vinegar is like a detox drink, flushing out toxins. Now that I think about it, I should drink this more often!

Vitamin C/citrus fruits. This one's a no-brainer. And of course, lots of water, hot soup, herbal tea, and plenty of rest. Mmmm speaking of citrus... I look forward to winter's blood oranges! They are almost too pretty to eat, but sooo good.


(How easily distracted I am about food. Back to the topic at hand.)

I decided to call in sick for two days. Despite my worries about falling behind my work and school schedule and my unease with the idea of "doing nothing", I was so glad I did it. My body wanted me to put those brakes on, and I listened (I learn the hard way sometimes). I think I recovered more quickly because of it.

I have to say, I think I got pretty good at the art of doing nothing.


P.S. Disclaimer: I have no medical training, and these are just "my" remedies that work for me... when in doubt, contact your physician or health care practitioner!

tea set photo by cyberlaundry

living without

Cincinnati was struck by a severe storm last Sunday. Gusty, howling winds strong enough to uproot trees. I am one of the fortunate ones to live in a place where the electricity came back on after 24 hours. Some have had to deal with the power outage all week and are expected to have electricity this weekend.

Initially, the power outage made me feel non-productive. I needed to get on my computer to work on some things I needed for the week. I wanted to upload photos. I wanted to check email. Ah, the need for technology....it makes me wonder how we lived without it.

Later, I ended up liking it. After checking on some friends and asking if they were ok, I decided I was just going to take a nice, 20-minute power nap, then read something for pleasure. I actually went to bed at 9:30 pm, which in my life is unheard of. It felt refreshing to be disconnected, for a change.

I remember how, back in my home country, we would get hit by tropical storms that made power outages last for days and days. As children my siblings and I would rejoice at not having to go to school. We would welcome the cooler winds that the storm brought, maybe float paper boats in puddles. We would use oil lamps that looked like (and probably were) from the era of Spanish colonialism in our country. We would find ways of enjoying our time, just being together as a family.

This time, I savored the feeling of not needing technology, even temporarily. It's amazing too how we can get used to life's little luxuries. At 6 o'clock on Monday morning, taking a cold shower was almost torturous (ok, so maybe that's being overly dramatic). How could I have gotten used to warm water, when I have been taking cold showers all my life in the tropical heat back home?

Needless to say, the power outage became a welcome respite, to go back to simple pleasures. And to realize that there are things I can live without sometimes.

moment of clarity

(photo from www.art.com)

There's just something magical about moving through water. This is the place where I am most present with my breath, my body, my mind.

Just a few more days before the pool closes for the season.... (sniff)