Vitalism and herbal medicine
Vitalism in healing is a clinical strategy based on the principle that Life, Nature, and the Great Spirit from which they arise are fully present in all the tissues of the body, and also in the psyche, the spiritual heart, and the soul, sustaining life and health, providing momentum for personal evolution on all levels, and for the fulfillment of the highest purpose in social and spiritual life. Vitalist practitioners employ clinical strategies and methods which support this life power through encouragement of nourishment, digestion, rest, and appropriate activity, identification of purpose in personal life, connection with nature, an active spiritual life, identification and removal of obstacles to cure on all levels, and avoidance of methods which suppress or distort life processes. The Vitalist incorporates all aspects of science, especially physiology and pathophysiology, but equally values knowledge from traditional medicine, empirical observation, instinct and intuition, and is not confined to the narrow materialistic world view that dominates much of modern science, medicine, and social life. Vitalist herbal medicine is the use of herbs in support of this approach and these processes.
From the North American Institute of Medical Herbalism Website, founded by Paul Berger, Boulder Colorado
Friday, April 27, 2012
Thursday, April 26, 2012
Folk Herbalism
“Folk herbalism is the people’s medicine, tried and true, shaped by the land, driven by the healthcare needs of its inhabitants, and handed down through the generations by mouth and pen. Its vocabulary is that of geography, the plants, the elements, the earth and the sky. At its most glorious, folk herbalism heals the people and the land in one motion, because we really can’t separate the two. What happens to the land is reflected in health of our bodies, minds and spirits and folk herbalism acknowledges this interdependence. Without folk herbalism, we would be lost in a vast sea of corporate, pharmaceutical care. Lost without the herbal traditions that bring balance to this one-sided form of medicine, and lost without the understanding of the inter-connectiveness of the human body.
Folk herbalism is the yin to conventional medicine yang. It’s roots are deep, feminine and, and intuitive. And though it’s form may change over time and within cultures, its roots stay strong, viable and hardy. It will never die.” –Phyllis Light
Thursday, April 12, 2012
Two great blogs
Check out the folks and recipes as The Perennial Plate, they are dedicated to sustainable and adventurous eating, traveling around gathering recipes and talking to folks who fish, hunt, pick tomatoes, and learning from them about where food comes from and how it is prepared.
Please watch Episode Lupe Gonzalo, tomato picker and activist with the Coalition of Immokalee Workers (CIW) in Florida. As Barry Estabrook wrote in his book, Tomatoland: “Any American who has eaten a winter tomato, either purchased at a supermarket or on top of a fast food salad, has eaten a fruit picked by the hand of a slave. That is not an assumption, it is a fact (Douglas Molloy, US Attorney for Florida’s Middle District).” “Immokalee,” as Estabrook continues. “Is the town that tomatoes built.” Florida supplies 1/3 of America's tomatoes.
From the article that accompanies the 5 minute film, "...each bucket of tomatoes a worker fills (roughly 32-35 lbs) still gets them around only $0.45. Forty Five Cents. And they are picking green tomatoes — as in, tomatoes that are not ripe. If you live in Florida and ever find yourself behind a tomato truck, you probably wouldn’t know it as the fruit is completely unrecognizable. The tomatoes are picked green so that they can be gassed with chemicals to turn red and then shipped to other areas of the country." One question: Why do we want to eat tomatoes in winter that taste like styrofoam?
And for another kind of activism, check out The International Supper Club, two folks riding their bikes 15,000 miles across Eurasia, documenting people and what they eat.
Please watch Episode Lupe Gonzalo, tomato picker and activist with the Coalition of Immokalee Workers (CIW) in Florida. As Barry Estabrook wrote in his book, Tomatoland: “Any American who has eaten a winter tomato, either purchased at a supermarket or on top of a fast food salad, has eaten a fruit picked by the hand of a slave. That is not an assumption, it is a fact (Douglas Molloy, US Attorney for Florida’s Middle District).” “Immokalee,” as Estabrook continues. “Is the town that tomatoes built.” Florida supplies 1/3 of America's tomatoes.
From the article that accompanies the 5 minute film, "...each bucket of tomatoes a worker fills (roughly 32-35 lbs) still gets them around only $0.45. Forty Five Cents. And they are picking green tomatoes — as in, tomatoes that are not ripe. If you live in Florida and ever find yourself behind a tomato truck, you probably wouldn’t know it as the fruit is completely unrecognizable. The tomatoes are picked green so that they can be gassed with chemicals to turn red and then shipped to other areas of the country." One question: Why do we want to eat tomatoes in winter that taste like styrofoam?
And for another kind of activism, check out The International Supper Club, two folks riding their bikes 15,000 miles across Eurasia, documenting people and what they eat.
Wednesday, April 11, 2012
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!
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!
Thursday, March 8, 2012
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.
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.
Thursday, February 9, 2012
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.
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.
Monday, January 9, 2012
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.
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.
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