Putting on the brakes

Every so often, I come across something I read and think, "I must share this with my peeps." This blog was written by my dear friend and yoga teacher, Kathleen Thompson. I first met Kathleen over 10 years ago at her yoga studio in Mansfield, a small town in rural Pennsylvania, just after the birth of my third child, when I was desperate to hold onto my identity as a woman outside the confines of motherhood. Her yoga classes were not just a welcome escape, they rejuvenated my body and soul, making me a better mother, woman, and healer in the process. I have since come to love and respect Kathleen not only as a yoga teacher but as a community builder, mentor, and friend. She never stops learning and appreciating, figuring out what works and what doesn't work, and then getting rid of the "doesn't work" that holds her back.  As such, she spreads joy and smiles wherever she goes, like a Glinda the Good Witch, and looks 20 years younger than her age. She is beautiful and radiant, inside and out.

I am honored to be able to share Kathleen's wise journey with you. Don't miss out on her manifesto (words for us all to live by), or her insightful metaphor at the end; we all need to know how to recharge.

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Winterlude

In the week between Christmas and New Years I rented a little apartment in Ithaca, NY. I needed a getaway: from Christmas, from busyness, from tired.

I needed a retreat. But instead of booking myself into a fancy place like Kripalu, I tried a “self-guided” retreat this time, in a nearby city where I know a few, but not many people, and where I could be happily alone.

I cooked up a a batch of kitchari in my home kitchen and brought that to eat, along with a few other staples.

Every day I cooked up the kitchari for lunch with greens I bought at Oasis.

The man at Oasis who checked me out told me this joke one really cold morning:

Q: What do you get when you cross a snowman and a vampire?

A: Frostbite!

I drank a lot of hot water which I heated up an electric kettle I found in the apartment kitchen. But the mugs there didn’t fit my hands so I wandered into Handwork and bought a beautiful handmade mug for my hot water.

The one I bought was made by hands, for hands.  It is beautiful and I treasure it. It is currently sitting on the the table beside me. It will forever remind me of this time of great regeneration.

I sat on a small brown couch all day and edited my manuscript.

I slept like shit. (The bed was very mushy.)

Most nights I stayed up very late. (For me.)

I sat on the windowseat and looked out.

I finished The Distraction Addiction.

I started Daring Greatly.

I went to yoga every day.

When you teach yoga every day like I do, it is such a thrill, such an utter indulgence to be led. I got to follow someone’s else’s path every day and it was lovely.

I went to Starbucks. (Not every day, but almost.)

I cruised through the bookstore a few times. I ran into people I know, and like, from home. I ran into people I know, and like, from Ithaca.

I sat and meditated with my dear friend Zee, and her friends, on New Year’s Day, and then had Indian food with them afterwards at Diamonds.

All day I worked.

I noticed the way I worked. I noticed that I like alternating between digital and analog; between computer and fountain pen. When I started to stagnate on the computer, I’d pick up the pen and a fresh world would appear. When I felt that world begin to fade, a return to the keypad ignited me again.

And in this way, back and forth, digital to analog, hour after hour, day after day, with breaks only for fresh hot water and to pee, I spent my interlude.

I worked on my manuscript, but I wrote other things, too.

I wrote deep reflections on all the yoga classes I took, for example, pondering what it really means to be a yoga teacher, and how I might become a more effective one.

I wrote my “manifesto” which was deeply inspired by the two books I was reading. My manifesto lists the qualities that I hope to cultivate and manifest in myself and my life from this time going forward. I love this list and feel so happy to have finally articulated it.

I wrote in OmWriter, which is a new writing platform for me. I was inspired to try it from the writer of Distraction Addiction. I really like it a lot. I found it allowed me to go deeper into reflective space than I have ever gone before, and stay in that depth longer.

I severely limited my connections to other people, and to distractions like email and internet. I only went online twice a day: morning and night, and would not have gone on at all if I didn’t have a business.

I thought about installing Freedom but my self-discipline was strong enough and I really didn’t need it. Still, I like knowing that it exists, because I can foresee a time in the future when I will need to utilize it.

I loved living in this small, walkable city. Everything I needed and wanted was less than a 5 minute walk away: yoga, health food store, bookstore, Starbucks, even an indie movie theater. I could walk to Indian food and Thai food, as well as Tapas and Mexican and vegetarian.

On my last day, G came and we went to see the movie Wild. For my final dinner, we chose the tapas restaurant right below my apartment. We drove home in two cars, following each other.

(my apartment was on the 2nd floor, the 2 windows on the left with the white blinds.)

As I drove home I thought about the Prius, and how the battery of that car recharges every time you apply the brakes.

It recharges when it brakes.

What do you know? Me, too.

Go figure.

Healing for the FUN of it

Most of the time, people become my clients because they are unhappy with the prescriptions they get from their doctors, whether conventional or naturopathic. They are overwhelmed by the pharmaceuticals, supplements, and diet changes that their provider insists they must swallow and follow for what seems like an infinite amount of time -- a year, the foreseeable future, or in some cases, forever. And that saps any possibility of joy from their potential healing. The client loses their mojo. They see Mt. Everest before them. Huge. Looming. Insurmountable.

Why in the world would they want to invest the time, money, and energy in a process that might or might not heal them, but will, in their eyes, cause them to suffer, whether physically or emotionally? To me, that’s a bitter pill to swallow.

I do not believe in telling my clients they have to “suffer through it,” “stick it out,” "feel crappy," “endure it,” or anything of that nature. Yuck.

One of the fundamental tenets of the work I do is to show people how to capture the joy in healing. Healing – no matter how it comes about -- should be FUN. If you’re going to spend the time, money, and energy to heal, it needs to feel good, whether it involves whole foods, herbs, or diet and lifestyle changes.

This is not some idealistic Pollyanna scam on my part. Like all of the work that I do, this premise is based on science. Just look at the research surrounding laughter as medicine. When patients feel joy, they feel better. It doesn’t matter if they’re depressed, have cancer, walk with pain, or are on dialysis. Their symptoms improve.

Therefore, incorporating joy and fun into a client’s journey towards optimal wellness is critical. They are integral components of earth-based medicine, especially where food is concerned.

We all understand the joy and comfort that we get from eating certain foods and drinking certain beverages. Unfortunately many of these foods and beverages take away from our health, particularly when we are dealing with some sort of health crisis.

For instance, I had a client, Liz*, who came to me wanting to lose weight and unable to kick a 30 year Diet Coke habit. She drank anywhere from 5-10 cans a day. She knew the Diet Coke was unhealthy and contributed to her weight gain, but she enjoyed drinking it during her stressful day as a high-tech executive. I asked her what she specifically liked about the soda, and she said, “The bubbles refresh me.” I suggested that she drink mineral water instead. Violà – the Diet Coke habit disappeared in one week, and she’s been on a healing journey ever since. All we had to do was tap into her joy.

Patricia*, who was already an amazing cook, has started listening to music while making dinner. She says the food tastes better, she is eating more slowly, and her digestion has improved.

Children especially need to have fun when they’re healing. Kate*, a beautiful 11 year old, came to me with her mom recently after dealing with debilitating joint pain for over a year. She has been to countless doctors, all of whose different diagnoses and prescriptions, despite their best intentions and steep costs, have caused Kate to suffer even more. Some recent bloodwork suggests that Kate needs to make some major changes to her diet, including not eating her Halloween candy. Together with her mom, we figured out what would bring her joy instead of the sugar, and she left my office empowered and smiling, knowing she would get some of her favorite Pangea Organics lip balm at the end of her candy-free week. There might even be a trip to Disneyland in the spring.

When you give people options, when you take the time to find out what brings them joy and what’s “fun” to them, you also tap into their innermost source of deep healing. Yes, healing can mean making major life changes, but these changes should be rooted in joy, not suffering.

I want my clients to have fun while they’re healing. I want them to savor the physical and emotional joy that comes from their symptoms disappearing and from living life to the fullest. My clients are redefining wellness for themselves and having a darn good time in the process. And that’s what I call medicine.

*Names have been changed to protect clients’ privacy.