Food as Medicine

One of the problems with posting on this blog, is that I often don't have the time or patience to take a picture of whatever it is i am cooking or describing to post on the blog, so therefore i don't write at all. strange, but there you have it. For example, I just made Baerlauch (wild garlic or ramps) butter and pesto in my beautiful mortar and pestle which i received for my birthday last year. In the pesto I put Wild garlic, basil olive oil leftover from a bottle I made last year that I had put greek basil from my garden into for two months of steeping before storing, an aged goat's cheese called Geissenpeter that is made about half an hour from here, salt, pepper, walnuts from an Abbey near Bamberg that we bought last December, and some anchovies that I brought back from the states last year when we visited in October. We'll eat with pasta this week- either spinach pasta that i make or store bought- and sun-dried tomatoes from a friend's garden. Beautiful dark green, a small jar of gold full of things connected to place or memory or person. And I did not take any pictures to give you. Maybe I will of the meal that I make later on in the week.

Food is becoming not only an art medium and creative outlet, but also a medicine over the last two months. Another reason I have not been writing is because I have been reading so much and learning so much and cooking in new ways, or in ways I already knew but did not do too much of. Having Rosacea and a bunch of digestive issues, food allergies, and probably some adrenal exhaustion from the 8 years at the Buddhist center and the move to another country, I finally decided to stop the eating whatever I want diet, although I have really enjoyed it, and move to the eating what is good for my body so I can thrive diet. Which, except for holidays and social events, I enjoy more. And it is a slow process, figuring out what is good for me and what isn't, what will heal my gut and my face and what won't. And I would say I am only about a third of the way there. As a part of my herbal studies, food as medicine, as a friend wrote to me this morning, is becoming a large part of how I work with plants. It is for sure the way in which I am the most competent. And slowly incorporating plants into food, tea, vinegar and oil, is a way that I can easily pass on information and learnings to others. ANd it is always an individual process of what works and what doesn't, what feeds and what challenges beyond capability.

Most of the herbal teachers I have read so far (about 20) agree that food and diet are a huge aspect of working with herbs and a traditional method of healing. That in fact, if a person has a diet that is not nourishing them, and even more so if it is a diet that is actually harming them, herbs will be little if no use in healing whatever it is that a person sees as "wrong" about them. Which is, of course, a whole other topic for another time. Food is a spiritual experience, a connection and communion with plant, animal, place and people. That is why the image, for example, of the last supper or of the weekly church ritual of sharing bread and wine is so powerful for people. That is why every feast day is called exactly that, a day of a feast. It is difficult to go to an easter meal and say, no, I don't eat sugar, chocolate (unless it is raw), bread, gluten, cow's millk, processed foods, oils except for olive and animal fats, and could I please have a big bowl of vegetables? Which is why I only have problems with my "diet" when I am with people who don't eat the way I do. Culture is steeped in the history, ritual, tradition, and practice of preparing and eating certain foods and avoiding others. And I am, yet again, out of the box of the (German) culture. Which is not new. And it is a challenge to explain, no I am not dieting, I am eating for my health. I know it is probably delicious, but I choose not to eat it. I am happy to smell it and I take pleasure from your enjoying it. I know that I am giving up hundreds of recipes from Julia Child's cookbook. I know that I am cleaving whole sections of european cuisine out of my repetoire. I know. and I'll live. In fact, the whole point is to live better, live healthier, live whole in my own being.

It is a strange act of courage to stand apart from the tidal wave of a culture's eating traditions. No bread? WHAT do you eat? And there is a also a small amount of ego in there who thinks she knows better, it is true, but mostly it is the willingness to finally take care of my own self and my own body and my own me, which seems to be the next onion layer in the ever ongoing lesson of how-to-be-a-grown-up-and-get-over-my-etc. SO, in celebrating that when we were in Italy last week, I bought myself two dresses (i have never done that before) one for the spring/fall made of wool and silk, designed and hand sewn by an italian woman in a little shop that I was in, and one for summer- with huge prints of red poppies all over a white background, marilyn monroe style with a tie in the back of the neck. and that one i will definitely post a picture of!

The return

A month later, and I finally publish another post. Not that I haven't started once or twice, they just seem not to get finished. I seem to always have too many things to do, which keeps me away from the computer. And I go through increasingly restless bouts of "how do I keep living in this century/world with all of these technological gadgets- like cars and computers, high rise buildings and shopping malls" and want to move out somewhere in the wildernesses and have sheep and be with the planties and make a life from and with the earth and pray and have access to trees and forest and water and not only city. I really do think sometimes that I was born in the wrong century. On the other hand, if I were not born in this century, I would have to do things like wear a corset, be married to a man, have to go to church, or be burned at the stake for being a witch. It is amazing to have the freedom I do, and heartbreaking to see where all of our "freedom" has gotten us. Which is to say, in a mess. I have to think of that bumper sticker that goes something like, " where are we going, and why am I in this handbasket?".

In any event, there have been big changes afoot. As usual, filled with vision and inspiration and hopefully making something of beauty to offer the holy. We have to decided to go back to school for the "Naturheilpraktikerpruefung" which means, the naturopathic practitioner license. The system is a bit different here in Germany, but what it boils down to is that for any therapeutic modality that involves touch therapy, diagnosis, treatment using hands on techniques (osteopathy, cranial sacral, massage for specific ailments rather than "feel good", etc.), nutrition, herbal medicine, homeopathy, and so on, a person needs this license in order to practice. Basically anything other than being a doctor or a midwife (they have different licensure). The only things we will not be allowed to do are deliver babies, treat highly infectious diseases, and write prescriptions. From a legal perspective, if we can find an anesthesiologist who would work with us and an operating room to us, we could even perform operations. Anyway, it is a twenty two month process and we begin in April, which means in March 2014 we will take the licensing exam. Anatomy, Physiology, Pathology, injections, blood taking, reading lab reports, physical exams, everything we need to know for medical practice. All therapy specific training is extra, so nic is doing homeopathy courses, I am studying herbal medicine and nutrition (in addition to my bodywork), and we'll see what else unfolds.

I have begun to ask myself, what is actually the underlying idea behind all of this for me. What is healing? What am I trying to accomplish? What do I want to offer? I am clear that I do not want to "be of service" which, noble as it may sound, is so full of rhetoric and dogma that it cannot possibly be separated from the ego of the "seeker" or "spiritual" person. I have heard it too many times before and it sounds so pure and unselfish, but I know from experience and observation, it is never the case. When it is unselfish and pure, there is no thought of being "of service", there is only the work to be done and the offering made to the holy, not from one person to another. Like the Tao, that which can be spoken about is not the true Tao. People, I am afraid, are always beautifully egoic, and that is just how we are made. Freud knew that.

A friend wrote me an email about the "mysterious wobble" at the heart of all of life, that imperfect-ness that is our exact beauty, or gift, that we can bring to the world. We strivers tend to think that is something to be cured, healed, ripped out, avoided, bettered, or gotten rid of. Which is only internal violence, rather than love, which produces only more violence, not more love, I don't care how spiritual one is. I know because I used to hate myself and I would send so much time criticizing and correcting everyone around me. I was full of violence and poison, and though I tried to be loving, tried so hard to be good, I just couldn't do it, because I hated myself. It is true, what they say about loving oneself before loving others. It is not just a platitude, it is actually impossible. We need to love our total humanness, and not try to change something about ourselves because it is not "whatever" enough. Our gifts come from our shadow, maybe even more than our light. And the more we try to push the shadow away, the more it will come back to haunt us. We make the monsters that live in our darkness out of the pearls that are there, rubbing us the wrong way, the dark way, the feminine way, calling for our attention to see the lustre, the shine, the beauty of the gift hidden there. The beauty of the gift hidden within us, that when we ignore, becomes the source of discomfort, pain, aggression, depression, maybe even illness and disease within.

So, the question, what is healing? Is not about getting rid of something. Not getting rid of whatever it is that is bothering us so that we can feel better, be better. Every illness is a messenger, a symptom of something long out of ear shot, out of time, something long since forgotten, or suppressed or missed, calling us to remember, to re-member. Healing is a process of inclusiveness, or wholeness, of holiness. Each person must discover their own way. I hope to be a person who can be a friend along the path, helping to offer support, encouragement, ease, a mirror, friendship in the darkness, a space to hear the call from within. I do not want to be, nor do I think it is possible to be, a healer for someone else. I may at some point have more information about certain plants, or the body, or techniques that can help, but the person must bring all of these things together in their own psyche and soul and make a healing potion of them. The alchemical process of lead into gold, of seeing that within us as a treasure, of treasuring ourselves. Of bringing forth our unique never before seen beauty as a gift to the holy, to what nourishes us in our lives, so that we may continue living. Call that whatever you will, it is the source of all of us. This great mystery that we still cannot understand that is this life. This source that we can come close to, come to know, in our hearts.

This same source, this same process, is exactly what brings the return of Spring each year. The seeds, the potential, sleeping, waiting in the darkness, is finally freed by the right conditions, to sprout. Coaxed out into the light of life, birth into this world. Spring has returned here, just barely, but the snowdrops and crocuses are blooming, the roses are beginning to leaf, the smells are different in the air, the birds are singing and the first broods are hatched. life has returned. Light has returned, we have more than 8 hours of light per day and it grows ever more. What a gift that the Spring returns and bestows her blessings of growth and warmth each year.The trees are filled with buds and the energy of the season moves in all of us as the sap rises.

I quit my job!!!!

AND I AM SO HAPPY ABOUT IT!!!!! Well, one of my jobs. The other, the job in the little natural health food store that I love, I kept. The one I quit was the one cooking for a person who did not at all have an appreciation for how, what, who or why I cook. And therefore, it was a match made in hell. For both of us. When I was quitting, in German by the way, I barely got my sentence out before she said, I agree. and Yes. and Well, we tried. And then, it was over and I was jumping up and down celebrating and being wonderfully happy and free! For example, right now I am taking care of things in my life that I need to care for, and receiving herb books in the mail, and writing a blog post instead of being there. How wonderful!

Things I am doing instead of working there:
-Returning to my studies of Herbal Medicine including Chinese 5 Element Theory(totally interesting)
-Cooking for myself and my wife and friends- for which I had no interest while cooking there in that kitchen
-Massage and bodywork practice- like actually hanging up posters and earning money doing the work I want to be doing
-Cleaning my house and keeping my practice room clean and ready for clients
-Reading books
-Healing my Rosacea with herbs and aforementioned 5 Element Theory
-Making herbal remedies
-Practicing Tai chi and chi gong
-Beginning courses in preparation for being a Naturopath (I have to learn how to take blood and give injections!)
-Smiling
-Standing in my power

not bad, eh?

Going off to cook dinner- Stir fried brown rice, baked squash with spices, beet and hijiki sautee.

The Epiphany or "when the three kings finally get to the baby jesus who is still laying in the hay trough"

The star, apparently, led the three kings, or wise men, to the christ-child. Which, if we see the story as a metaphor, means, in order for us to be enlightened, or awake to our own christ consciousness, we must know how to follow the signs. We must be awake to what the world around us is saying and know how to interpret it and how to act. Now, living in Germany, as the light returns to this part of the earth, at the beginning of 2012, this great year of possibility and portend, I find the way that has led me here, keeps leading on. Though not following some external star, there is, yet, an internal listening and knowing at work.

We are still looking for a house, and it would surely be nice to have a star hanging over its eaves saying- here, here, this is the place where the light lives! We have only our own hearts and instincts and ability to read the signs. We come ever closer, but have not, shall we say, fallen on our knees in wonderment. That said, it is always a question of willingness, of patience, heart, trust, and courage. To take the journey in the first place, risking everything- our vision, our marriage, renewable energy sources and the end of the world- in the search of the place where our vision can take root. And it is then just as courageous to actually settle on something, and be willing to jump in and buy it. And then to every day to live with the choice we have made...wouldn't anyone cringe in fear at such a possibility? How do we as a species get anything done and make all of the miraculous and sometimes horrible innovations that we have?

The poem I have heard since childhood, when my grandmother- also a poet- first read it to me, has come up several times in the last week from various sources. I find it still both an inspiration, and an accurate description of my life.

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,

And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveller, long I stood

And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth; 



Then took the other, as just as fair, 

And having perhaps the better claim, 

Because it was grassy and wanted wear; 

Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same, 



And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day! 

Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh 

Somewhere ages and ages hence: 

Two roads diverged in a wood, and I--
I took the one less traveled by,
 
And that has made all the difference

...
Robert Frost

I never imagined that I would end up in Germany, married, looking for a house to buy and longing for sheep. Bodywork, healing herbs, and performance are still my companions, although now I work to translate them into another language and culture. I could not have chosen this life if I had tried, but clearly each choice has led me to it. And it is good so, as it is. I have learned how to read the signs and am still learning how to decipher them, and the even greater task, to act upon them with an open heart. I am reminded of the story of the prince who is sent by his father to learn the language of the birds. After 10 years, the boy comes back and, when questioned by his father about what he has learned, he answers, " I think I have begun to hear something." The father is, of course, irate that after 10 years of good money spent on an education, the boy is only just beginning to hear something,and sends the boy back. After 10 more years, the boy comes home and is asked again what he has learned. He replies, " I think I have begun to understand something." The father sends the boy away again. After 10 more years, the same scene is repeated, but this time the boy says, " Now, although I have begun to be able to speak the language of the birds, i have nothing more to say."

Such a long, forgetful, rememberful practice of praying, listening, feeding and offering, living each day full of thankfulness and gratitude and then forgetting and remembering everything all over again, this life is. Merciless in its beauty, when we once, through the struggle of our daily lives, come into contact with what is holy, we either know enough to keep our mouths shut about it, or the trickster comes along and steals it out of our memories. I have always longed for the road less travelled. Weird, my sister would say. But I am happy with its weirdness, its signs and languages and people and places that I happen through. I am happy with the gift of this life, on the road less travelled. Happy 2012, may we bless the gods with beauty this year.

The Rauhnaechte, or, the pagan bardo between Christmas and The Epiphany

New Grange, Ireland, and the Winter Solstice dagger of light. As  a dear friend of mine said, one may know what lies within only by going in, otherwise, there is little to talk about. Talking about such things trivializes them and renders them obsolete. The invitation is to experience them, to enter the darkness with a full heart and a willingness to be emptied. The unknown gift of the return of the light and the ability to read the signs in our lives. Here is the opening to the womb of the dark, in which the birth of light is participated in, celebrated, known.

 The spiral brings us also back in on our selves, back into the center point, the dark point, the, as my tai chi teacher said, apparent closure, and leads us out again into openness, light, and birth. Sunwise, moonwise, earthwise, turning, turning, turning. Celebrating the wheel of the year, the ever spiralling time of a year's cycle through the seasons, through the dark and into the light.

Being here in Germany at this time, I notice two things very strongly. Firstly, because my childhood memories are not from this place of food, family, traditions of gift giving and time spent together, and because I am not christian in belief or practice, I am left rather empty about the experience of christmas going on around me. Which is not to say that I do not value the traditions of my German family and the time spent together. I do value those experiences very much. But, I am aware that underneath the current enjoyment, there is a rather large space of non-meaning, a hole of dark, which is absolutely in order for the season. And, I notice myself also searching, reaching, longing, as always, for depth of meaning, ancient knowing, human truth hidden in mindless rituals that stay on the surface. From an email with a friend: christmas is such an interesting thing. i agree with a- about the commercialism, and i know you actually do too (though you love shopping!). it doesn't have anything to do with the meaning of christmas. i am not a practicing christian, but i was raised from the time i was 8 to 16 going to church, so i know the traditions and the meaning. It is just that it is lost on me. i think of the return of the light with the solstice and the birth of the sun as the natural reality of this time that is seen through the lense of the christian story of jesus. But every religion and faith has some winter time festival of light. The darkest days of the year are upon us and we as humans always celebrate the return of the light, the movement towards spring, the rebirth of our life for one more year. and i think coming together, and feasting, and lighting candles and cooking traditional foods and sharing time together is really important. And the symbols of the time are important- christmas trees, stars, if one is religious the creche and the story of jesus. And it is a time for looking back at the year and being grateful for what we have and looking ahead with possibility. just because there is also a commercial buying overlay doesn't mean we have to give up the deeper meaning.


The second thing I notice very strongly, is the dark. It is very very dark here. We have for 3 months about 8 hours of light per day. And most of those days are rainy. And this year, there is very little snow, a lot of rain, and it is weirdly warm for the season of year. This darkness explains why in this western/northern hemisphere culture, the big stories are based on the fight of the light, or good, and the dark, or evil. Because it is such a tangible thing to be submersed in darkness. And while the darkness is, as a former teacher said, fruitful, it is also, at a survival level, untenable. We are, like plants, built to seek the light and the warmth. We know in our bones and guts that light means life and dark means death. Why else would we think of intentionally built archeoastronomical mounds/caves as graves rather than ceremonial places of great transformation? We confuse transformation with death all of the time. And the great possibility and hope of the return of the light, the promise of warmth and new life, is as powerful an image as we humans can recognize.


Having just passed through the darkest night and the great pageant of christmas, now between the Rauhnaechten- the 12 days "of christmas" or the 12 days between december 25 and january 6, (which the church has overlaid with christian symbolism), are the days when spirits move along the earth. It is important to stay home, to stay warm and careful during these 12 days and nights. Fights, sicknesses, strange weather, are all signs of the spirits afoot. Each day is said to be a portend for the month for which it stands- the first day being january, the second day, february, and so on. Much to think about in these times and days. So much to integrate, signs to read and understand, the new life to welcome and the old one to let go of. I suppose, as they do every year, these days between Christmas and New Year's cause me to grow philosophical, to look for meaning and depth, to "go inward" as we used to say at the Zen center. There truly is a lot of darkness here- so little daylight and so many grey clouds. And it causes me to reflect on the darkness within us as a species, and the light within us. The ability to make meaning, to tell stories, to make beauty, to love.

coming into the close of the year

One can see that I am not a writer. I come to this blog sporadically, when either the mood strikes me or the time allows. I would actually like to write more, but I seem to always pack my life full of things to do. Sometimes, these things are wonderful, inspiring, and nourishing. Other times, I seem to to be so busy I am barely at home with no time to cook and I have no idea, other than work, what I have done that day. And I only work a half time job. Granted, looking for houses and driving all around the Hochtaunus takes time. And driving to my parent's in law and spending the night. But, for example, I seem to have had very little time for studying herbs (exactly none) since August.

We are not really any closer to finding "the house", but we have really learned a lot about what we don't want and what we do. For example we know now that we want about half an acre of land for the house/garden itself with a barn, and then we need to rent/buy about 2 acres to have our imaginary but hopefully later very real 8-10 sheep on a rotational grazing style pasture.

I am reading Marie de Brebis: the rich sound of the simple life (in German!!!) by Christian Signol. Marie told her life story to Christian two years before she died and he published it as a book. In the southern mountains of France, she was found in 1901  by a Shepherd in the middle of his herd of sheep with a note that her name was Marie. She grew up as a shepard, married, had children, lived through two wars, healed people with her hands, made bread, and kept always her beautiful devotion, her joy in life, and her great loving open heart. She is my new heroine and I definitely want to be her when I grow up. That is to say, she has realized the vow that I also have, to love all beings, and lives a truly handmade life, steeped in her culture and her community and her time.

After her lambs are born and she watches them jump around, she says "The animals are born far more mature than the human child. We are not so superior to them, as is often thought. When people were a little humbler and wiser, they would study the life of plants and animals more closely.But people often have crazy ideas to rush forwards without knowing why, without taking the time to look at themselves. And in spring, when the grass begins to grow between the stones, one can learn more than from all the smartest machines. But who thinks of these things anymore?"

 Now comes the weeks before Christmas, a holiday which I celebrate obliquely and more pagan than christian (tree, presents, food, candles, Winter solstice/"rebirth" of the Sun), going along for the ride, as it were, on the coattails of st. nick. And so I have started baking, of course, and making hand made christmas presents- felt stars for christmas ornaments and nets of stars for wall decorations, a vest hopefully for nic, if I can pull it off, jam, candied ginger, membrillo (quince paste), chutneys, etc. We have our tree already, but won't put it up till next week. Christmas markets are in full swing, which accentuate two things about christmas- its non-stop all-out consumeristic frenzy of shopping, and its non-stop, all-out gathering of people in the dark of the year to drink, eat, and be together. Which is really what the time is about. Marie knew that, what it means to live depending on neighbors and friends helping each other through the year, and celebrating the festivals and feast days through the year to dance, eat, sing, and celebrate the crazy beautiful joy of being alive and the gratefulness of living though the whole cycle of the year, one more time.

Artisan Food

Artisanal food makers- bread bakers, pastry makers, cheese makers, and others- are specialists and have access to the freshest ingredients.

Food artisans craft their wares in a special, artful way. Their foods are made in small batches by skilled hands. Artisans bring a tremendous amount of learning and experience to their craft, made manifest in each loaf of bread or each round of cheese. Their works are the product of passion and pride, not just commerce.

True artisanal foods reveal the hand of the maker, since they are crafted in a uniquely individual way. For example, a baker may bake black olive loaves, but each one will vary a bit in size or shape, be a bit bumpier from the dispersal of olives, or be less than perfectly rounded- a sign that human hands have been at work.

This touch of life is what makes the loaf of bread, the round of cheese eloquent and expressive- attributes that are unattainable in mass-produced foods.

Viana La Place Unplugged Kitchen


I work in a small cafe connected with the shop of a Biodynamic Farm. Here, farmers often supplement their income by selling either products from their own farm- eggs, milk, cheeses, vegetables, meat- and/or by having a small organic foods store where they sell the full range of groceries from cereals to bread to cheese to vegetables, frozen pizzas and so forth, albeit on a small scale.

I bake cakes, which to the Germans are almost holy, for the shop, twice a week- on thursdays and fridays. I am not yet at the level of artisanal mastery that Viana speaks of, in terms of excellence and experience. My cakes are, however, hand formed and hand made, coming from my wish to make something beautiful and nourishing. They take time to create and I am still working out the details or experimenting with the recipes. Like learning the language if German, I also have to learn the recipes. For sure these last things are too much for my employer. She is of the just get it done fast and efficiently, and make it reproducible so that it is the same each time, mind set. I do understand that a person wants to be able to go to a cafe and eat the same cake they had last week and have it taste as good as it did then, but I also understand, as Viana says, that sometimes the olives are lumped together, or the shape is not quite round. These are the things that are actually alive about what I make.

One of my favorite parts of the job is making something for lunch that day for the people working there. What I don't want to do as a cook is to make large amounts of food for nameless large masses of people. A few cakes a day, a quiche and a pizza, and then either a pasta dish and a salad or a soup and bread or a casserole of some kind are simple to do. Sitting and eating together make us connected as a community of people working together and make our work something different than working at, say, Stop and Shop, or its equivalent here in Germany. I am the sort of cook who would rather invite people over for dinner, and spend the day cooking for them, than put something together as quickly as possible so i can get on to something else.

My boss and I have such a hard time understanding one another because we differ on the ground philosophy of how food should be prepared and enjoyed. A cake, like everything made from scratch and by hand, takes time to prepare and bake, time to cool, ice, and serve. And how it comes out of the oven and how it tastes and how fluffy or dense it is, depends on many factors. For an apple cake, for example, it matters which kinds of apples one uses, and it matters whether they are peeled or not, or poached, or steamed or shredded, or cut, or raw, or sliced. It matters which sort of dough one uses- and there are so many more kinds of cake batters and dough recipes here than in the U.S. Over there, we have regular cakes, where one creams together butter and sugar and so forth, pies, angel food cake, and that's about it. And there are so many more kinds here.

But the real issue at hand here is not which cakes are being baked and by whom, and how long it takes to bake them, but the continuing question of how to remain loving, remain open, in difficult situations. In a relationship with two very different sorts of people, with very different conversation styles and personalities and ideas about food. In situations, as my tai chi teacher said, of apparent closure. The opportunity to love, to turn towards love, is always present. And what better way for me, than through baking and cooking.