Simplicity "Rains"

A simple act of sharing... we are all healers in our own way -- sharing our sweetness however that nectar manifests within...

It is January 3rd and I am sitting in a little coffee shop in Vernonia. Our internet is down at Cedar Ridge, so I have set up office here. It is cold and raining outside. I am sporting some handmade arm warmers (thanks Nan! Love these forever!), and I have just finished a warm, creamy beverage of choice. The only thing I might change is the music selection… but Bobby McFerrin’s quote soothes me, “spending your whole life listening to one kind of music is like living your whole life in a beautiful mansion and spending all of your time in the bathroom.” Time to get out of the bathroom, girlfriend…. I guess twang aint so bad.

2011. Wow. Truth is, I don’t know exactly where to start. I am satiated with herbal recipes, cordials, treatment plans, diagnostic techniques, and a newfound love for the magical wisdom of the tongue and pulse. What I do know about this year is that I am dedicated to living my “simple little life”. The word “sweetness” permeates my consciousness. Amrita… nectar… the stuff a “juicy life” is made of… pure sweetness.

So, what is so sweet in my life lately? Why, thanks for asking… ☺

Loving my “wife-ness”… lighting a candle for my husband when he arrives home after working out in the cold all day… having his slippers ready for him… having dinner started, with candles and smells of yum wafting through the air… taking a bath together… and laughing about our mama and daddy long-leggedness, drizzled into a bathtub made for one (reminds me of setting off a can of silly string in an empty Altoids tin).

Dancing again… I danced a total of…. Let me think… ONCE…. During the months of November and December. Coming back and dancing my heart IN with my friends, brothers, and sisters again is soooo SUHweet.

Yoga… Really. Yoga in the big sense… not just what happens on the mat, but opening my eyes intermittently amidst asana and pranayama and seeing the sun rising, radiating pink across the sky… and then just being a cat, a dog, a horse, a child, a woman of 40… throughout my practice. THAT is sweet. ☺

Feeling GRATITUDE… for the brilliance of friends and “shareholders” in my life… Angela… my hair goddess. Molly and Marla… my “resident” artists (your art hangs in MY residence ☺), Annie and Patty… the ones I find to be brilliant mothers and women of grandiosity… Michael F… and his highness, Jolene… J with the contagious smile, Steve Gold, Shimshai, Jana, David Roth, and Tina Malia… my friends and sweet, soulful voices of light that share this journey and inspire me vibrationally… as I dance and share my gifts… for you… (and so many others… I am so, very grateful).

Ahhh…. The light is fading… time to leave this office and head home to our 600 sf apartment at Cedar Ridge. Time to think about dinner and how I can share this sweetness I taste in my bones.

May you taste your life like chocolate. It’s there for the savoring. Sweetness and simplicity rains… especially in this Pacific Northwest Winter.

Namaste,
Britt

A Clinic Like No Other


The "waiting room" outside of the screen door leading into the clinic. Most of these patients are farm workers.

We have completed two weeks of clinical training and suffice it to say it has been overwhelmingly satiating. We spend 10-14 hours per day split between classroom studies, clinical observations, and assisting the physician. We navigate this ancient land, in search of food that we can stomach, admiring the people, keeping our sunglasses on our bright western faces, with ankles and arms covered. There are 8 students, 1 administrator, and 1 physician.

Clinic is the most graceful of the experiences. As we sit and observe vast socio-economic strata coming and going, their purpose for visiting Dr. Vasant Lad, reminds me of our sameness. There are physicians from across the globe accompanying their patients with perplexing symptoms to the most impoverished farm workers exhibiting signs of malnutrition. We have seen typhoid fever, scorosis of the liver, kidney failure, cancer, schizophrenia, depression, servere anorexia (not the psychological type, but cause by internal mal-absorption), and the rarest of skin conditions.

We sit, in a small clinic, around physician and patient, as they speak any variety of Indian dialect and then, as if narrating, the Vaidya (ayurvedic physician), translates the health concerns of patient to us, without affect, and then proceeds to share his findings. We are taking pulse (the seven layers... not just the lub dub), assessing organ strength, dosha, and relationship between what is happening in one's psychology and one's physiology. We assist with basic treatments, including nasya (nasal oil treatments), netri-bindu (stinging, clearing eye drops), and marma therapy (like acupressure). Already, in these two weeks, I have witnessed the nonsensical. He integrates allopathy and ayurveda with clinical finesse. We observe the uncanny, yet unfaltering correlation between physical trait and disease. We witness how eye characteristics, nail shape, tongue color & landscape, skin tags, and pulse presentation clearly express the honest and innocent truth of what is happening within one's body and mind. These diagnostic processes, although dissimilar in many ways to our western medical approach reveal a direct correlation to mineral deficiency, presence of intestinal parasite, blood lipid profiling, history of thumb sucking and its impact on physiology, and so much more.

Probably the most profound, we are realizing how our mind is a valuable tool, especially when partnered with the intuition. There is a sensory skill that is developed through the practice of ayurveda. A way that we exhale, let go of what we think we know, and allow that which is true, in this moment, to reveal itself through pulse, intellect, tongue, and manifestation within body, mind, heart, and soul.

Until next time...

Namste,
Britt

This is INDIA!


This small tribe greeted us as we arrived at the farm for clinic... we traveled 2 hours each way twice a week to offer free healthcare services to the villagers who live near the doctor's farmhouse in the country.

No rules apply here. Last night, my roommate Madhuri (translates to Sweetness), was taking a shower, when there was a knock at our door... I openened the door to find a hotel attendant, who could only say, "Excuse me, maam... Balloon?"... I was stumped. We exchanged gestures, and he repeated "balloon?" a few more times, when I finally opened the door and said, "you need to come in?" He wobbled his head like a bobble doll (which is what they do here.... I still haven't figured out if it means yes or no). My roommate, now wrapped in a towel, quickly sequestered herself in the bathroom,w ith just her head sticking out to bear witness. I watched him walk, barefoot, between our two skinny beds, to the window which overlooks a five story drop to the patio below. Just outside the window we have a coconut tree, and as he whooshed open the curtains, it all made sense. There, tangled in the fronds of the coconut tree, were two stringed balloons: one purple, one red. He pushed our personal items on our nightstand aside, and put one bare foot on the table, and one on my bedsheets, next to my pillow. He then balanced on his knee, teetering out the window, as he grasped the balloon strings, jumped back inside our room, pointed below and out the window and said, "small child". I nodded, and said, "ho", which is sort of a cross between "I see and hhhmmm.". He wobbled his head and sort of smiled. Madhuri retreated once again into the bathroom, and he exited. We shook our heads and laughed... THIS is India.

Namaste,
Britt