The Myth of Psyche and Cupid

I found an old copy of "SHE: Understanding Feminine Psychology" by Robert A. Johnson and was skeptical that it would help me learn about feminine psychology, but I read this delightful account of a myth that actually does reflect some experiences I have had with men in a way that was quite comforting and reflective of some past events that helped me feel less self-blaming, and more accepting of the reality of some men's fears and blocks, and my own expectations and desires. 

Also, Robert Johnson helped me come to a new appreciation of myth as a conglomeration of a society's view of roles and existential perception. He says:

"A myth may be fantasy; it may be a product of the imagination, but it is nonetheless true and real. It depicts levels of reality that include the outer rational world as well as the less understood inner world within the psyche of each individual... A myth is a product of the collective imagination and not of scientific or rational development, but it is profoundly real. Because of its manner of development, through years of telling and refining by countless people, it carries a powerful collective meaning." 

So this struck a new chord for me and after reading this myth realized that this myth represents a collective experience of generations of people of a certain major culture and for that reason represents reality in a period of time for so many... I am left to wonder, if we had relied on oral tradition instead of written communication, how would this myth have evolved as we evolved in relationships with each other? Would the current account of the myth be different if we had not written it down?

 

Marking Transition with Vision Fast

In May of this year I embarked on a six day road trip to New Mexico where I would join a group of women to co-create a Vision Fast experience. For me, I was looking for a way to mark the end of a 2.5 year hiatus from the worldly material life of employment... a hiatus spent in trips to India and internal exploration and realization of my past trauma.

A hiatus spent questioning work life, who I choose for friends, why I fall in love, my need for validation, how to cultivate self-love, how my house can consume my attention, why I eat when I'm not hungry, my fear of what others think, my aging body, why I deny myself time for creativity, how to care for my mother, how I want to connect to myself and to God, what Christianity, Vedic philosophy, Buddhism, and Krishna consciousness have to teach about those things, practicing life coaching, and mostly, how I am being called to be in service. 

I still hadn't made a plan or any major decisions. I wanted some direction and some confidence about at least a few areas of life. In my previous explorations of shamanic traditions I had heard about Vision Fast tradition and had wanted to do it. So in Spring of this year I found the Women's Vision Fast organized by the School of Lost Borders. When I read the online description I knew that these people were the real deal. Sincere honest spiritually connected people that were in service to people's process, not posturing or marketing to garner the most participants. Their fees were reasonable, and their website was basic, with emphasis on the verbal content, not design or purchase process. I felt connected and confident enough to sign up. 

I allowed myself 6 days to drive the 24 hours to the Santa Fe area, stopping to camp alone by the coast in Florida, spending 2 days in rural quiet gracious historic St. Francisville, Louisiana, spending 2 days in a canyon of West Texas, and then arriving the night before at a campground in Cochiti Lake, NM. I allowed myself this time to be with myself. I enjoyed my own company as I explored a historic cemetery and some sleepy sprawling plantations. 

I enjoyed the books on CD during the 5 to 6 hours of driving each day. Between the trip out and the one back, I listened to: 1) "7 Habits of Highly Effective People" by Stephen R. Covey; 2) I tried "Care of the Soul" by Thomas Moore but stopped halfway through the first CD very uninspired after listening to S. Covey; 3) The Power of Vulnerability by Brene Brown; and 4) Autobiography of a Yogi by Paramahansa Yogananda. Listening to these 3 books was in itself a valuable experience as I drove down highways in some of the most beautiful places I have ever been, having a lot of realizations about myself and about life!

The morning after I arrived at Cochiti Lake campground overlooking the largest blackest berm wall I have ever seen (retaining a giant reservoir), I gathered with the ladies in our first circle to share about why we were here; to share our individual reasons for wanting to be alone on the land. We were five participant women, ages 25 to 50, with two elder guides, Emerald North and Margaret Thompson, and two assistants, Galaxy and Kim Allen. 

The elder guides spoke about accessing our own deep internal wisdom and being on the land to connect with it. They shared about the medicine wheel of the 4 shields. The south shield is the childhood, based in the body, discovering the self (red). The west shield is the adolescence, going inside where it is dark to choose what from childhood we want to keep and what we want to leave behind (black). The north shield is the adulthood, where we are in action in the world (white). The east shield is elderhood, or spiritual life, where we connect it all and realize the higher purpose of being (yellow). Emerald then went through the aspects of living in an exaggerated way in any shield. Being depressed is exaggerated west shield. Being a workaholic is exaggerated north shield, etc. 

This framing helped me realize that perhaps my 2.5 years of hiatus had been a period of west shield reflection time for me where I sorted through what I have, what I have done, what I want to keep and what I want to shed... and my time alone in Vision Fast would be a time to claim what I want, and to my full adulthood. Moving out of the dark internal stage I would move forward, however slowly, in this spiral of expansion and development. 

The next few days were an exploration with the group guided by Emerald and Margaret, to reflect on what self-generated ceremony we could create on the Land. They talked about The Land and it's lessons for each of us, if we were present to receive. We were invited to ask the land for the gift of a message of how we can take our gifts to the people. It was made clear that this journey was one that was for the world, not for my own self. This spoke to me and I was moved. Yes, I want to serve with my highest gifts.

So what is stopping me? What is the roughness that seems to be providing resistance? Is it my perfectionism? I heard a snippet of public radio today that mentioned the conditioning of men to be courageous, and the conditioning of women to be perfect. Ouch! I resonated with that a lot! And I am gun-shy to move into a new area of vocation as I have changed careers once already and want to make the perfect choice this time.

I also suffer from wanting approval. And this is very painful and sticky for me because I do not wear the same shoes or pants or skirts that my parents wear. My clothes are very different, and my vehicle for life is very different, and much of how I live is a bit of a secret and hidden from many because I will be seen as different and then un-welcomed. A shaman once encouraged me to have spiritual confidence. This means to me to be confident with whatever spiritual practice that serves me, and not have fear about others' judgments. But I experience others as so intensely judgmental. Many friends in the science community might think me a cook if I mention my connection to God not to mention any devotional activities to God.

Emerald really challenged me that this desire for approval is rock sitting on my wings (my words). That it can cripple me and that my spirit is here to serve the world, and it WILL be different from what my mother or father or school friends expect of me. 

After sweet guidance, reflection and exploring questions, we each created an intention. I created "I am a full adult healer-teacher and edgy elder." 

I spent four days alone with the wild place of Ghost Ranch. I added up the hours of non-eating which was 108. I wonder if Emerald knew about this number. Hunger was with me every day until the last day.

Each day was it's own journey. One day was about creating an altar that was my own with mixed traditions, writing a song, and getting a very intimate visit from a very large snake that gave me permission to be different, be diligent and focused. One day was about an excursion into low-lying sculpted river arroyos with surprises of life, shape and depth where I experienced my confidence and strength. One was a day of rocks when I rinsed my shame into them and owned my real desires with the full moon. When I celebrated and ritualized this a band of coyotes reflected my intentions with such clear acknowledgement, I was intensely moved and validated. I experienced nature as a reflective listener many times. In the yowl of the coyotes, in the echos of the rocks, in the warmth of juniper's shelter, in the sound of rocks falling down with my heart, in the energy of my arms throwing them with the anger that they took to the river.

I can recall the juniper, the special rocks, the edge of the river, the swallows keeping watch over me... and I reconnect to that place of self-acceptance and self-attention that was the biggest act of love I have created for myself.

After the fast, I shared about it with my therapist in Gainesville. I talked about getting the message to live more vibrantly. Be with people more. Be in some action. Like watching a tennis match is good for some learning, but playing tennis you learn more. So I want to be in action, host sharing circles, host events and facilitate book discussions.

I told her about my experience on the last night of the fast connecting to big deep grief about my previous boss at the university; how I spent 7 years with her, and our relationship ended. I felt discarded after all that energy I put into the organization she and I jumpstarted together. All our time together culminated in a bad taste in her mouth and her not answering my emails, and no remnant of me on their website. My ego was crushed that there was no evidence that I had ever been there. My heart was hurt that I didn't feel any compassion or care from her. I cried for 2 hours grieving those things. I also grieved the realization that I hadn’t known myself enough to know that I wasn’t in service there; that I was not using my best skills while not giving her what she really needed. But I stayed anyway... I stayed even though I was not happy there, and she wasn't happy with me there. I didn't recognize when my energy had run it's course, and my lesson there was finished.

I spent two hours at 1 a.m. crying about this loss. About losing the relationship with my boss. Why was it so painful? What importance was I assigning to that person and that relationship? The power dynamic and my boss's personality were reminiscent of my relationship with my father I guess.

My internal little girl was waiting and yearning for approval and belonging with that boss and that organization... I didn't recognize that I was barking up the wrong tree, and my little girl was recreating the abandonment experience she had when she was 3. At that age, my father had a debilitating head injury from a car accident, and my parents both went to NYC for his hospitalization for 5 months. My three sisters and I all had different experiences of confusion, terror and abandonment, not having had it explained to us why the parents left or when they would return. I felt discarded in both of these cases.

The Vision Fast provided me with some cleansing of some weight of emotions... it provided me with clear space to express myself and yell, cry and be with myself without interruption or needing to clean things up. I could express fully with no timeline. I splayed out my body and heart on big rocks that were sun-baked and moon-bathed. I allowed my own body to be sun-baked and moon-bathed. And I felt transformed and cleansed and open for new possibilities for myself coming back home. It was not the transition I was expecting, but it was the transition I needed to experience... the letting go of past attachments to approval so I could move forward in my more authentic self.

#visionfast #visionquest #fasting #ceremony #ritual #selflove #selfgeneratedceremony #lostborders #ecotherapy #

I read "Mother Night" by Kurt Vonnegut

I finished reading Mother Night today. I took it from my room in Mom’s house… it was amazing writing by a guy who was a prisoner of war in Dresden when it got hit. He had to excavate burned bodies after the firestorm that Churchill ordered on that city that had a bunch of refugees from other cities that were carpet-bombed in an attempt to wear down civilian morale to stop Hitler’s advance around Europe/Asia.

How awful! To bomb civilians as a tactic of war; isn’t this a first form of terrorism in our western history? See his book, Slaughterhouse Five, one of his most famous.

I read an interview with Kurt Vonnegut which was amazing. He said he wished everyone in the US would read more books and write book reports. So I decided to write a little book report for him, may he rest or live on in peace and enlightenment (he died in 2007 while living in New York).

I want to start by saying I loved this book. Vonnegut has a genius droll sense of humor. A bit cynical in a fun clean way that helps us develop our own opinions. This book caused me to delved into WWII documentaries on Netflix. I guess I should be grateful, history is good to learn... better than learning what the damn Kardashians or maids of Downton Abbey are doing, probably. 

So the book is about an American-born guy, Howard W. Campbell, Jr., who moved to Germany with his parents at age 8 or 10 and became a propaganda announcer on the radio while sending code messages to Americans with his different intonations and speech patterns. The book didn’t really get into that so much… but it was about the character’s indifference toward the war and to either side of the warring factions. He just cared about his beautiful wife Helga and the “nation of two” that they created in their big double bed. That was the center of his world, and everything else was just puppetry. But he became a famous German war criminal across the world, and was not keen on being caught for it for a while.

Outside of his interest in the “nation of two” with Helga, he was driven by curiosity in the rest of his life. Not by beliefs, attachments or hatreds. He didn’t seem to have opinions on anything, and just listened to people with a reflective, supportive simple curiosity.

He wrote about one friend, “I was very fond of you, to the extent that I could be fond of anybody.”

Favorite passage in the book: page 162:

I have never seen a more sublime demonstration of the totalitarian mind, a mind which might be likened unto a system of gears whose teeth have been filed off at random. Such a snaggle-toothed thought-machine, driven by a standard or even a substandard libido, whirls with the jerky, noisy, gaudy pointlessness of cuckoo clock in Hell.

The boss G-man concluded wrongly that there were no teeth on the gears in the mind of Jones. “You’re completely crazy,” he said.

Jones wasn’t completely crazy. The dismaying thing about the classic totalitarian mind is that any given gear, though mutilated, will have at its circumference unbroken sequences of teeth that are immaculately maintained, that are exquisitely machined. Hence the cuckoo clock in Hell – keeping perfect time for eight minutes and thirty three seconds, jumping ahead fourteen minutes, keeping perfect time for six seconds, jumping ahead for two seconds, keeping perfect time for two hours and one second, then jumping ahead a year. 

The missing teeth, of course, are simple, obvious truths, truths available and comprehensible even to ten-year-olds, in most cases. The willful filing off of gear teeth , the willful doing without certain obvious pieces of information. That was how a household as contradictory as one composed of Jones, Father Keeley, Vice-Bundesfueherer Krapptauer and the Black Fuehrer could exist in relative harmony. That was how my father in law could contain in one mind indifference toward slave women and love for a blue vase.

That was how Rudolf Hoess, Commandant of Auschwitz, could alternate over the loudspeakers of Auschwitz the great music [symphonies] and calls for corpse-carriers [that jewish prisoners volunteered to do].

That was how Nazi Germany could sense no important differences between civilization and hydrophobia.

That is the closest I can come to explaining the legions, the nations of lunatics I’ve seen in my time. And for me to attempt such a mechanical explanation is perhaps a reflection of the father whose son I was. Am. When I pause to think about it, which is rarely, I am after all, the son of an engineer.

Since there is no one else to praise me, I will praise myself – will say that I have never tampered with a single tooth in my thought machine, such as it is. There are teeth missing, God knows – some I was born without, teeth that will never grow. And other teeth have been stripped by the clutchless shifts of history.

But never have I willfully destroyed a tooth on a gear of my thinking machine. Never have I said to myself, “This fact I can do without.”

His Helga was killed in the war but it seemed for a few moments that she was saved, for she found him in New York where he was living under the cover of the busy confusing place of that city. She admitted to him later that she was in fact Helga’s sister, Resi, who was extremely attached to Mr. Campbell. He carried on with her as with his wife, and seemed to lover her in his way. But she killed herself with a cyanide pill when authorities came to the house of spies and operatives that he was mixed up in. Their little friendly group of people who all admired Campbell was getting broken up. People who admired him including Russian spies (Resi was one of them). She had a singleminded attachment to him and departed saying he had no capacity to love anymore, he just had “curiosity and a pair of eyes.” He was sad to lose the time with her, but was not attached to her specifically.

He was the epitome of passive. He got upset and violent one time (in his whole life!) when his prime hater and pursuer -hiding in his ransacked apartment - tried to kill him. But even then he explained away his comparison of Bernard B. O’Hare to the sounds and movings of a rat. But then clarified:

I do not mean to slander him by associating the sound he made with the sound of a rat. I do not think of O’Hare as a rat, though his actions with regard to me had the same nagging irrelevance as the rats’ scrabbling passions in my attic walls. I didn’t really know O’Hare and I didn’t want to know him. The fact of his having put me under arrest in Germany was a fact of submicroscopic interest to me. He wasn’t my nemesis. My gave was up long before O’Hare took me into custody. To me, O’Hare was simply one more gatherer of wind-blown trash in the tracks of war.

That guy accused Howard of being pure evil, and had obsessed his whole life about capturing Campbell. All the while Campbell never gave this guy, or much of anything else, a second thought. Campbell sort of lived in the moment.

That O’Hare guy vomited down the stairwell, and this disgusting mess kept Campbell from going out the building… but it was also the apartment of a Dr. Epstein on that landing that made him freeze and not move. He wanted to be captured for being a spy. He wanted to be turned in. Epstein was a jew and must want to help capture a known German war criminal. 

The only thing that could save him in the case was if there was proof that he had associated with an American spy agent. He was shipped off to Israel (he repeatedly reminded us that he was in that prison of his own free will). The Haifa institute was providing him with all sort of research and copy services. He seemed appreciative. He was appreciative of so many on all sides, of all ilks. He didn’t really hate anyone, but had a humorous lack of attachments to beliefs, morals, or sense of a correct life. If anyone was hurt due to his actions on the radio, he was oblivious and uninterested. 

An example of Vonnegut's funny ironic humor was an exchange that our hero Campbell had with Adolf Eichmann while walking down the hallway of the prison. The guards assumed they would want to talk to each other. Eichmann did not recognize Campell (though Eichmann had danced with Campbells' wife at a party in Germany) but when told who he was, asked Campbell for writing advice. "Should one get an agent?"

When released to freedom at one point, he froze standing in the street, not wanting to move or go anywhere. “It was not guilt that froze me. I had taught myself never to feel guilt”

It was not a ghastly sense of loss when his friends were taken away and Resi died; it was not a loathing of death; it was not heartbroken rage against injustice (“one might as well look for diamond tiaras in the gutter as for rewards and punishments that were fair”); it was not the thought that he was so unloved. What froze him, after being released from the house raid, was being released by his Blue Fairy Godfather (the American Spy Frank Wirtanen who appreciated his ‘service’) was the lack of curiosity.  It had flickered out.

“What had made me move through so many dead and pointless years was curiosity.”

In the end, while in the Israeli prison cell, he decided he would kill himself the next day after receiving a letter from his American agent who proclaimed his innocence as a German war criminal, and who in fact, “at personal sacrifices that proved total, became one of the most effective agents of the Second World War.”  

Several time in the book we see this guy Frank Wirtanen saying that Campbell was such an important American spy, which seemed a ridiculous claim about a playwright radio personality who so dispassionately followed simple orders to talk and cough in certain ways while writing plays on the side that actually did become quite popular.  So in the end, he was just a playwright who loved making love to his wife. 

#vonnegut #WWII #blackhumor #nazigermany #mothernight

Hashimoto's Autoimmune Disease

A few months ago I was diagnosed with Hashimoto’s Hypothyroidism. This is a disease of the immune system, not a thyroid problem per se. My immune system – perhaps triggered by Epstein Barr virus that has come out of the closet (90% of us have this) – has decided to attack the thyroid gland. The test showing this is TPO antibodies. Thyroid Peroxidase (TPO) is the enzyme from the thyroid that is stimulated to be produced by TSH from the pituitary. TPO assists in the production of thyroxine (T₄) or triiodothyronine (T₃).

I am fortunate that I went to see the naturopath, Joy Bole, who recognized Hashimotos right away when a nurse practitioner had not. She also discovered the activity of Epstein-Barr virus which might be what triggered it

She immediately told me about Dr. Datis Kharrazian’s book that I have since bought and am reading. As I have seen other doctors since then (endocrinologist, internist, other nurse practitioner), I realize they don’t really get the connectedness of all our systems and don’t know about Dr. Kharrazian’s seminal work. Very few doctors are trained in his approach to treating this disease.

The endocrinologist says it’s not really ‘treatable.’  Dr. Kharrazian wrote a whole book about how to manage for it by better understanding what my immune system is currently doing, figuring out what the stimulator is that is causing my immune system to work overtime (antigens or haptens) and taking supplements that support the immune system correctly while eating a very healthy diet that reduces immune response.

According to the book the gut is the home-base of the immune system. If the gut system is not balanced and healthy, the immune system can’t be strong. Joy Bole told me I have “leaky gut.” Some undigested particles are making their way through my intestinal walls which also causes immune system attack on these foreign bodies. I had read about this before and it is not good for this to happen. See my blog on inflammation.

Overall, the population is experiencing more autoimmune diseases from environmental stress and foods. "Stress is the biggest factor when looking at the brew that makes up an autoimmune disease! Stress does many things to upset immune regulation: it suppresses immune function, promotes immune imbalances, weakens and atrophies the thymus gland, and thins the barriers of the gut, lungs, and brain. "

"Sometimes frequently-eaten food is seen as a foreign invader keeping the immune system engaged in constant battle. Then the beleaguered over active immune system can start to behave erratically and being attacking the body." If we have an allergy to a food and don’t know it, our immune system again works over time and can go into malfunction so that the immune system starts to attack the body creating the autoimmune response.

Typical triggers for autoimmune disease are: spikes in estrogen; inorganic toxic substances like pesticides or heavy metals (known as haptens); allergens like mold or foods we are allergic to (known as antigens), molds; bacterial infections.  "Physiological conditions can set the stage for Hashimotos: gluten intolerance, estrogen surges, insulin resistance, polycystic ovary syndrome, Vitamin D deficiency, environmental toxins, chronic infection or inflammation, and genetic susceptibility."

For Hashimoto’s patients, gluten is a big deal. Not only because 81% of Americans have a genetic predisposition for gluten intolerance, but because gluten molecular structure is a lot like a thyroid molecule! So if we eat gluten and have some intolerance, the immune system attacks that and the same function attacks the thyroid cells! Kharrazian says: “It is wisest to simply remove all gluten from your diet if you wish to preserve your thyroid gland.”  He says we cannot even have a molecule of it once we have stopped and are recovering, because even slight gluten contamination in a food can trigger an autoimmune response that can last for months.

Hashimotos is the #1 autoimmune disease in country. "It is not a gland disfunction it is an autoimmune disease. If a patient takes thyroid hormones, the inflammmatory mediators generated (cytokines) can block thyroid receptor sites, but the hormone might be in the blood, making the regular blood tests look normal." Taking hormones as a treatment just makes lab tests look good and might boost energy for a little while, but doesn’t help stop destruction of the thyroid.

"Vit D deficiency is associated with numerous autoimmune conditions including Hashimoto’s, and autoimmune rates have been skyrocketing in recent years. Enough vitamin D helps keep the immune system balanced. Studies show more than 90% of people with autoimmune thyroid have a genetic defect affecting their ability to process vitamin D. Therefore many people need higher amounts of vitamin D to maintain healthy even if a blood test shows sufficient vitamin D. Blood levels of vit D of my labs should be in the high-normal! The Vitamin D council recommends levels be between 50 – 80 ng/mL, and a supplement of 4000-5000 iu per day of cholecalciferol."  Kharrazian recommends 5,000 – 20,000 IU of emulsified Vitamin D for his Hashimoto’s patients.

Dr. Kharrazian’s book is so good because he explains how our immune system works, how our thyroid system works and other endocrine components, he explains how lab tests can be interpreted, and he describes his protocols and treatmens for different kinds of patients. He tells you where you can get tested for different things, so you can figure out a lot of things before you go see the doctor. He also describes a fast and elimination diet system to discover what your body is reacting to.

How to take care of myself?  Support the autoimmune system and eat right. Avoid anything inflammatory (see my blog on inflammation). Take emulsified Vitamin D.

DIET

• No gluten
• Strongly limit dairy
• Strongly limit alcohol or sugar
• Strongly limit coffee/caffeine (most difficult)
• Limit dried fruits and nuts
• Limit foods I am attracted to eating a lot (honey and almond butter)
• Limit intake of goitregenic foods; Cooking these reduces gointregenic effects
• Brassica vegetables like broccoli, cauliflower, brussel sprouts, mustard, rutabagas, turnips, cabbage, kohlrabi (they contain isothiocyanates) – so much for my garden.
• Soy (contains isoflavins) goitrogenic activity of soy isoflavones can be partly “turned off” by cooking or fermenting
• isothiocyanates  and isoflavins appear to reduce thyroid function by blocking thyroid peroxidase, and also by disrupting messages that are sent across the membranes of thyroid cells
• Millet (I love gluten free millet bread)
• Peanuts
• Radishes
• Spinach
• Eat fermented foods (I have goat yoghurt with probiotics added, sauerkraut, probiotic pills, and drink beet kvaas that I make)
• Have chicken broth in soups
• Eat fish and flax oil for more omega 3 to build the essential fatty acids to build hormones
• No iodine, it is known to trigger autoimmune thyroid response

SUPPLEMENTS        

• Emulsified Vitamin D3
• B-Complex, more B12
• Vitamin C
• Milk Thistle
• Fish Oil, Flax Oil
• Probiotics
• Ca/Mg
• …. turmeric?

LIFESTYLE AND TREATMENTS

• Salt Baths
• Acupuncture
• Chiropractor
• Reduce stress - do and plan less; simplify; say no to some invitations.
• Meditate
• Qigong. I am doing this almost every day
• Study about hypothyroid, autoimmune
• Find new recipes and cook (today made coconut almond flour biscuits)
• If I take thyroxil someday, watch out for the filler that comes with the med that my immune system might react to

This has been a very sobering journey. I have always felt blessed with the health and body of an ox, capable of hard physical labor, with strength and stamina. I experienced extreme fatigue, burny legs and joint aches for about 3 weeks in October.  Before that, I had noticed general tiredness beginning in early evenings since about January. The 3 weeks of crazy fatigue in October ended when I took herbs from Joy Bole to combat the Epstein Barr virus. I also cut out gluten. But I continued coffee, honey, chocolate sometimes, grain products, some cheese, and milk in the coffee.  I had a lot of tired days with a lot of fatigue most evenings.

As of yesterday, I have dropped coffee, chocolate and dairy products.  I feel even better. I was encouraged to go grain-free. I have cut grains in half (less millet toast). I also started a new herbal protocol of 4 herbs - a subset of the Cowden protocol - created by a naturopath but recommended to me by an MD. The herbs are Pinella, Burbur, Samento, Banderol. It is designed to kill bacteria, and support the immune system. That might be another reason I am feeling better these last 2 days.

Since quitting coffee I feel more quiet and calm and true in my level of constitutional energy. The coffee was maybe masking what was really going on for me with energy. So I really miss that soothing cup but am feeling that my long term health is standing victorious over that addiction… for now. They always say, one day at a time. : )

The next steps are to visit the rheumatologist and Dr. Hall in Ocala who has studied Dr. Kharrazian’s methods for managing Hashimoto’s disease. I am learning so much about medicine and doctors and a lot of the foolishness thereof. Luckily, I have good insurance covering most of this including acupuncture and chiropractor visits. 

So my spirit is rising up to tell me something with all of this. Perhaps it is saying to be still more.  That reflection is continuous.
I close with a quote from Hippocrates because I know I can help myself most with what I eat and don't eat: “Let food be thy medicine and medicine be thy food.”

Why am I reading Bhagavad Gita?

Bhagavad Gita: I am reading it for several reasons. One being the structured accessible opportunity I have been offered to study vedic literarture and one of the most revered, inspiring and cited books. It has been read and cited by Albert Einsten, Mahatma Gandhi, Dr. Albert Schweitzer, Herman Hesse, Ralph Waldo Emerson, Aldous Huxley, Rudolph Steiner and Nikola Tesla. Somewhere it is claimed that 650 million people hold it as a sacred book.

It is the inspiration for the transformative communication classes taught by David Wolf, to me being a very enlightened equanimous way of being true to oneself.

The concepts of higher consciousness, responsibility, eternal soul, ego, material nature are explored within. 

I realized I also read this book partially for the same reason some people travel. To learn about others' ways of thinking, talking, valuing, feeling, perceiving, living. I am traveling to an entire fashion of thought so different from the western judeochristian style, and I resonate with it's emphasis on our consciousness and the necessity of discarding the ego and the material and how we can live a life that is truly devoted to self-realization - becoming truly who you are and removing the layers we have adopted from society and family and other sources.
 

Maybe the biggest reason: this class reminds me to think and focus daily on spiritual life, consciousness and the non-material. I have been noticing the material aspects more in day to day life. I experience that I take things less seriously in this way. It helps me ask, why I am doing things each day. Do I do a thing for my ego? To help others? To look good? To serve God?

I read Island, by Aldous Huxley

I have been co-reading some books with my godson nephew, Robert. Right now we are reading The Life of Pi, but last fall we read Island, by Aldous Huxley (his last book, published in 1962). It is a favorite book of my friend Evan, and a book about an ideal society, so I was interested. 

Here is an email to Robert when I was on page 100 (November 2011):

It is some work to read, and I spent some time in Wikipedia deciphering some of the references! The author is very versed at eastern religions and european historic figures to draw complete pictures of characters and philosophies creating a lot of richness on each page. Wikipedia is helping me decipher.

He values Buddhist and Theosophic principles and practices and abhorrs self-indulgent, dualistic ,capitalistic machinations of modern western society. The irony is that while he (Huxley) sings praises of eastern philosophy and practice, his angle is presented with such a protestant/catholic mood, feeling and writing style. For example, that sarcasm in his writing when describing Rani in Will’s eyes is very English, not very eastern at all. Same with the plot of a newpaper writer trying to get in on the inside to exploit opportunities for gain for all in accessing oil rights; it feels like a very western-styled plot - interesting mix! And why not? He says (in the little green book written by the old Raja so long ago): "What in fact I am, if only the Manichee I think I am would allow me to know it, is the reconciliation of yes and no lived out in total acceptance and the blessed experience of the Not-Two."

I had to look up Manichee. So interesting! he terms "Manichaean" and "Manichaeism" are sometimes used figuratively as a synonym of the more general term "dualist" with respect to a philosophy or outlook.[37] They are often used to suggest with a somewhat disparaging undertone that the world view in question simplistically reduces the world to a struggle between Good and Evil.

The young beautiful nurse is named Radha. I learned in my research about the gopi cow-herders 2 weeks ago in a class I took that Radha is the most important gopi being Krishna's lover and incarnation of Lakshmi... and in the book, Lakshmi is the wife of McPhail's dead son. I will see how this plays out.

Wow so much going on in parallel with characters and historic/religious figures. Ranga (Radha's lover) mentions the Mahayana tantric philosophy of the people of Pala. (This is also the tradition of the Tibetan Buddhist tradition observed by the teacher I was with at meditation retreat last December in Colorado.) Ranga explains Mahayanic and of tantric philosphy: "you don’t renounce the world or deny its value; you don’t try to escape to Nirvana apart from life. You make use of the world, you make use of everything you do and of everything that happens to you, of all the things you see and hear and taste and touch, as so many means to your liberation from the prison of yourself." This feels very true and harmonious to my senses...

Now in May 2012: This is one of the truest-feeling statements in the book. All that we experience is medicine for us to become more realized beings, using our human form as a vehicle for awakening!

I am enjoying this book! Will Farnaby is still talking to everyone from his bed! It is strange though, this book is devoid of any emotions on the part of the characters except a few feelings from Will Farnaby of annoyance at the Rani etc... people are very intellectual, as is obviously, this author.

Now in May 2012: I wanted to say more about this last point.... that in Huxley's writing about the perfect society, people are 'doing' a lot of the right things for societal and environmental sustainability. But where is the consciousness of people's inner lives? If people are still living according to the externalities, without a shift in how they view themselves and the roles in each other's lives, such a happy, healthy society will not last. Intellectualizing about the perfect society is an interesting exercise, but our over-developed intellectual brains must take a little break... and we must start leading our lives and decisions connected to our hearts. When we truly connect to our hearts, we can heal past traumas (from childhood and previous lives) and stop acting to serve our egos which serve to protect our hearts and lead us to live in selfish agenda-driven situations. This is where we are today with our capitalistic, competitive, individualistic, lonely, anxious, consumptive society. 

Despite this last statement, I am feeling encouraged, hopeful and excited by more and more people questioning the status quo and searching for new ways of using their minds, skills and words to create more awareness of their whole selves. I am constantly finding ways that people are helping each other discover deeper meaning for each others' lives through healing, breathing, and experiencing the essence of things.

What an exciting mysterious path of discovery to be in this temporary human form. We have a mission in that.

I read some of "The Adventures of Tom Sawyer"

Catalyzed by a scheduled getaway with mom and sister to Hannibal, MO, Mark Twain's (Samuel Langhorne Clemens) boyhood town, this week, I'm reading the Adventures of Tom Sawyer and the writing is blowing me away. I want to buy 9 copies for the young people in my life. The writing so entertains my mind and triggers images of the author contemplating each paragraph for a whole morning at his desk and how he could most creatively and humorously, with metaphors and adult-life reference points, present the mood and energy of seemingly simple boyhood pleasures and antics. Here he talks about Tom's new whistling skill:

[His] new interest was a valued novelty in whistling, which he had just acquired from a Negro, and he was suffering to practise it undisturbed. It consisted in a peculiar bird-like turn, a sort of liquid warble, produced by touching the tongue to the roof of the mouth at short intervals in the midst of the music. The reader probably remembers how to do it if he has ever been a boy. Diligence and attention soon gave him the knack of it, and he strode down the street with his mouth full of harmony and his soul full of gratitude. He felt much as an astronomer feels who has discovered a new planet. No doubt as far as strong, deep, unalloyed pleasure is concerned, th advantage was with the boy, not the astronomer.

I read "French Women Don't Get Fat" by Mireille Guiliano

It was cheap at a thrift store in Boca Grande, and I needed some reading, figuring some nonfiction about eating habits was better than a Mary Higgins Clark mystery. I think her book is better than her title, though it was a very quick read saying many common sense things we all already know, and listing many recipes that I am excited to try (pumpkin pie with hazelnuts, cauliflower gratin, asparagus flan!, cooked pears with cinnamon, carrot soup).

Her book offers a cross-cultural comparison of eating between America and France and worries that if french culture goes by the wayside, her pais-mates will be getting obese like Americans. She quotes Brillat Savarin, the great 18th-century French gastronome: “The destiny of a nation depends on how it feeds itself.” She worries: "Where are we going? And why is everyone following?"

She advocates regulated gastronomic pleasure instead of diets as the most powerful tool of weight control and is shocked by how overweight we in the USA are. She presents a plan to change eating habits and lose weight. Start off writing down everything you eat, and send it to her; she'll find your main "offenders" in habit or food choice and advise you a solution. Just kidding she won't send you anything, you have to find your own "offenders." She stresess that you move a lot; french women walk everywhere and do little secret exercises with their arms and abs at home. Climb lots of stairs.

Second step to your new french-style life is to eat leek soup for 3 days. Thereafter, include lots of leeks in your life.

She speaks about having a variety of seasonal foods on your plate, sitting to eat giving full attention to the meal, chewing slowly deliberately meditatively, buying food at the local market and only enough for a few days. We must not cut out the fats; eat butter and whole milk and goat cheese. Just moderate. And if you eat a large meal today, compensate tomorrow with no sweets, and minimal bread etc.

The funniest thing is her encouragement to fool yourself and others. Example: When you don't really want a dessert when everyone else is getting their own, go ahead and order it, eat 2 bites slowly and engage your neighbor in conversation so they won't notice that you've put your fork in the 5 o'clock position that tells the server to take it away and of course s/he will without anyone noticing that you were so moderate!!

What a notion that we are all going to start spending 1 hour shopping every 2 days and an hour preparing meals with 4-5 sides on a set table with linens and candles. But her idea of variety and small portions of each makes a lot of sense for your digestive enzymes and nutrient requirements.

I do like leek soup... Her anecdotes describing the wild blueberries and mirabelle plums are delightful, and you can learn a lot about different little foods (how to clean mushrooms) and french food culture. The 2 days a year at Christmas where everyone eats a few slices of cake are a charming picture.

She encourages doing chores, cleaning things the old fashioned way, taking the stairs; essentially stop being lazy! Work to enjoy food and work to reap psychological reward and exercise benefits. Oh, and she is the CEO of Clicquot, Inc. and encourages us to drink champagne often; it's not just for New Year's and rare celebrations. Her recipes call for Champagne Veuve Clicquot Yellow Label Brut, and that you drink the rest with dinner.

She just falls a little short by not discussing our society and culture bent on consumerism, professional competition, fitting in lots of activities aimed at kids' pleasure because of parental guilt, socializing with wide unconnected sets of friends, and needing to do things fast, and get places fast so there is more time doing activities with our gadgets (watching, talking, playing, texting, buying). I guess she is challenging us individually to make gastronomic pleasure a bigger priority and an enjoyable family affair.

I read "Dharma Bums," by Jack Kerouac

It's hard to believe that this book was assigned to me as a freshman in a Jesuit university - an 18-yr old sheltered catholic girl, straight out of all-girls catholic nun-style high school, not knowing the first thing about beatnicks, poems, buddhism, hippie-freedom, california culture, pot-smoking or sex and not ready to investigate these either. I was only just discovering what male humans looked like and talked about and that's all I wanted to put my attention into. Now I've read some about tibetan-style buddhism so thought this book - which made a big poetic impact about this guy who wandered the country by thumb and traincar in the 1950s with his backpack, beans and notebook living a simple life - would resonate.

Ray Smith (autobiographical of the author) is our wanderer trying to co-lead the rucksack revolution with his mentor/idol Japhy Ryder (who in real life was modeled after poet Gary Snyder). We follow Ray during his joyful do-nothing year relying on his wits, fearlessness and friends to do a year traveling, visiting, partying and meditation. He is happy to sit and pray for the world; "something good will come of it."

Japhy gets on his case for not doing much besides sitting and poems while Japhy chops wood, works and reads Zen buddhist texts. He is an old bikkhu who loves haikus, satoris, the mountains and "hoos!"; he plans a trip to Japan. He tells Ray what it's all about. I loved that Japhy practiced charity all the time and I loved how it charmed Ray: "There was nothing glittery about it but almost sad and sometimes his gifts were old beat up things but they had the charm of usefulness and sadness of his giving."

The rucksack revolution that they both wanted was described by Japhy: "refusing to subscribe to the general demand that they consume production and therefore have to work for the privelege of consuming all that crap they didn't really want anyway such as refrigerators, TVs, cars, certain hair oils, and general junk you finally always see in the garbage a week later anyway, all of them imprisoned in a system of work, produce, consume, work, produce, consume. I see a vision of a great rucksack revolution with people going to the mountains to pray, making children laugh and old men glad, making young girls happy and older ones happier, all of 'em Zen lunatics who go around writing poems..." They had a fantasy of West meets East, with guys hitchhiking and tramping around the mountains praying and writing poems.

Kerouac talks about food alot, albeit simple food: beans, soup, food supplies, food storage, dinner, lunch, Hershey bars...

Ray had a breakthrough in his mother's back woods in North Carolina. He became empty and awake and saw no difference between himself or anything else; became a buddha. He felt the same as the trees, he felt blank, he became "Bikkhu Blank Rat." He experienced transendental visits without drugs - Samapatti. His life was a "glowing empty page and I could do whatever I wanted."

And that he did. He went back to Japhy's place in California (I saw the very tracks on the beautifuul coast south of Sta Barbara a few months ago), and they partied, got drunk, naked, and had sex in what they called the yabyum ceremony. Ray's justification for what seemed like Samsara stuff to me was that "the dharma can't be lost; nothing can be lost on a well-worn path." Interesting justification.

In a final scene, Japhy gets on his boat to Japan, makes love to his favorite girl and literally throws her from the boat to the pier as the boat pulls away so he can get on with his business of the Dharma. Is he finally seeing the partying as samsara chatter distraction?

Ray went to the Cascades to be a fire lookout, following Japhy's advice as usual. He got to be completely solitary on a mountain. And very happy claiming he learned all up on that Desolation peak, falling in love with God, and fearing his return to people and cities.

Jack Kornfield's "After the Ecstasy, the Laundry" would be a good book for Japhy and Kerouac to read. It discusses living a compassionate, loving-kindness, buddhist meditation, present mindful life with busy job, family, account numbers, jealous defensive people, rules and forms. Can someone maintain a Kerouac-style bikkhu-ness in 2009 in a literal way? Maybe outside the USA or in some parts of Montana, South Dakota where thin populations may engender some sympathy for a lone person on a rural highway. One can certainly adopt some of the rucksack philosophy to eat and live simply, having just the food needed for the next few days; figuring out stuff for ourselves or with our neighbors; having just the furnishings needed for sitting/staying, cooking, sleeping; and for sharing the used reusables given with attention to the potential to reduce further consumption.