Letting Go of Labels

A few weeks ago I shared with my yoga class a story from Thich Nhat Hahn's Being Peace book. The story follows Siddhartha, the Buddha, when he was a monk searching for enlightenment. Living with other monks outside, they meagerly lived on one piece of fruit a day. He one day knew his body needed more, but was too weak to make it to the village to get food. A woman came to him giving him milk. He started to feel better, kindly asking her to bring him rice and milk daily.

The other monks saw Siddhartha partaking in rice and milk and thought him to be weak. If he was going to indulge in food, how could he reach enlightenment? Many spiritual seekers pair down their daily intake to minimal food, trying to reach spiritual bliss through meditation, forgoing the pleasures of the world. His monk friends felt his actions were a betrayal of his decision for spiritual advancement. Needless to say, they left him.

How often do we place labels on people believing that they can only be "this" if they are "that" way? In our minds, we design elaborate stories of how people or groups of people should be. A yoga teacher should be the healthiest person we know, doing yoga even in their sleep. A Nutritionist should never indulge in a piece of chocolate or sugary drink. A monk should not have a cell phone. A runner shouldn't smoke. A doctor should eat healthier foods. A teenage singer should be pure and modest. A chef should be the cook at home. Labels.

Instead of realizing the labels we place on people, when we discover something

that was not part of our imaginary way of life someone should live, we judge. In our minds, they have fallen from a pedestal they did not know they were on, perhaps the same one we put our parents on when we were children. As we grew older, we saw our parents as people with flaws, issues we didn't see when we were young thinking of them as omnipotent demi gods. As we get older, we may finally see them as human beings. Human beings are what we are.

Thousands of years ago, yogis believed you could only achieve bliss by letting go of the body. They body had a host of it's own issues and was not important as you left it here on earth when you died. 

Eventually through the Hatha Yoga Pradipka, asanas were said to be as important as the mind exercises. Having human bodies, we must eat. We must exercise. We must take care of this vehicle we are given. Sometimes it seems, we take better care of our cars than we do our bodies. We take better care of our homes than we do our planet.

When someone judges us for a certain behaviour or action, we may instantly get defensive. We think How dare that person accuse me or judge me? We don't want to be labeled or judged, no more than anyone else.

Maybe part of our suffering can be lifted if we only start to drop our labels - for ourselves, for others, for the world around us. Perhaps if we let go of expectations, thus not having the let down of them not being fulfilled, we may find a little more happiness. From letting go, we may see with our heart instead, finding that compassion that everyone seems to need.

Hand-Made Spirituality: Seeing Through these First Nations Eyes

As I walked along downtown Ottawa last week, headed to the Byward Market, I stumbled upon a delight. Encased in tall wire fencing typically seen in construction areas, an Algonquin man named Paul, and an Ojibwe woman, showcased the lifestyle of First Nations ancestors.

As I walked through the opening, my eyes lifted to a tall tipi built on concrete city streets. Wrapped in white thick cloth, the tipi almost towered the permanent totem pole across the street.

“We start with three sticks, tie them together and then add another stick. We tie that together and then then continue adding one stick at a time, tying each one,” said Paul on the construction of the tipi. Above the entrance hung a hand drum with a black outline of the sun's rays. Inside the sun was a duck flapping its wings in water. Paul crafted hand drums.

He showed me how he used branches of the ash tree. This pliable wood was soaked in water until the wood separated into sections. If you needed the wood to be thinner, you would use a hand made mallet, with a rock strung to the top, to pound the wood and then soak it back in the water. When the wood strips were thin enough, you peeled a section and bent it into a circle. This was the rim of the hand drum. Hide was then used for the cover.

These pieces of soaked wood had many uses including basket making, snow shoes, wares, and more. He also used the wood along with cedar and more to form his nation's hut – a wigwam. While a tipi is spectacular in size, a wigwam is a mind-bending, wood-bending feat. Wood and hide are made pliable through techniques developed over hundreds of years. While a tipi would take Paul only forty-five minutes to assemble, this oval shaped house would take longer. While a tipi was easier to take down and transport, a wigwam would be far more difficult to disassemble and travel with.

The goal of this duo was to promote an upcoming First Nations celebration and keep their cultures alive through education.

“We travel all over the world teaching people. I try to gather supplies where I am going so I don't have to take them with me.”

Keeping their traditions alive is important not only among their own people, but to share the remarkable beauty of the First Nations with everyone. They teach children. They mesmerize adults. They hold workshops on how to craft these magnificently complex structures and essentials using what grows in nature. The spiritual aspect, however, is kept sacred. It is kept private. “That is only for us.”

I myself have had a draw to Native cultures. I have past life memories even. I have searched for, yearned for, and prayed for learning about the spiritual practices of these cultures. However, very few it seems are willing to share. In my youth, I may not have accepted Paul's answer. However, that overcast day standing with him on the middle of the street, I understood.

Last night, I read an interpretation by Swami Satchidanada on a slokah in his book, The Living Gita. He shared a story about a man who went to a roshi (teacher) to learn. The roshi poured tea into a cup, continuing even after it flowed over. The roshi  said how when one's cup is full, one cannot accept any teaching. One needed to be an empty vessel for knowledge to be poured into.

Perhaps my cup was empty that day. I easily accepted what Paul shared. It was not my place to ask for more, to tap into their sacred beliefs that they needed to keep within their culture. After all, here they were, giving of themselves freely to share the history and skills of their people. Paul said he was a simple man who worked with his hands. I believe he is much more than that. He is a humble teacher.

My husband recently shared how ethnic tourism is a latest growing trend. People flock to various cultures to see their history, how their food was cooked like pouring vegetables into bamboo sticks and steaming them over an open fire. Cultures wanting to pass their knowledge on, to keep themselves alive in history, have found willing students. And while these students may been looking at first glance at the entertainment of it all, these cultures know that they will go back home and share their stories. About how one tribe learned how to steam food in the bamboo around them. About how another one made pottery by hand and inscribed their life story into the pot. About how another one learned to sew from her grandmother who was taught by her grandmother and so on.

The power of sharing life skills is spiritual in itself. We see the working hands of Paul make a hand drum that echoes the sound of someones heart beat. 

Tonglen Meditation: Walking Through the Fire for Compassion

When it comes to meditating on compassion for others, we often think of the Metta Meditation, also known as Loving Kindness Meditation. In this meditation, we focus one by one on a respected person we know, a loved one, a neutral person we do not know well, and a person that challenges us. In our meditation, we focus on sending that person loving, compassionate thoughts and energy. Mantras used are “May you be happy. May you be well. May you be safe. May you be peaceful and at ease.” The object of the words changes as you move through the meditation.

Similarly, the mantra Lokah Samastah Sukhino Bhavantu - “May all beings everywhere be happy and free, and may the thoughts, words and actions of my own life contribute in some way to that happiness and to that freedom for all,” does the same by wishing all beings everywhere happiness and peace. This mantra can also be used in meditation.

In Wednesday's meditation class, we practiced another compassionate inducing meditation – Tonglen. In Tonglen, we receive and send loving-kindness. This practice, used in Tibetan Buddhism and practiced by His Holiness, The Dalai Lama, taps into the bodhicitta (the enlightened mind).

Tonglen can seem like burning in a fire opposed to the light feeling that arises in a typical Loving Kindness Meditation. The practice takes on the suffering of ourselves and others to transform it into something beautifully powerful. To practice one moves through the following steps:

• Begin by focusing on the breath, bringing all mindfulness to the breath
• Feel comfortable in the space you are in, feeling protected and safe
• Bring your awareness to your bodhicitta (the enlightened mind) – you do not need to understand what it is, but become aware of a lightness that lives inside of you, aware and wise beyond your rational mind. Find peace in this feeling.
• Next breathe in smoke or darkness and exhale light and joy. You become a recycling machine for converting energy.
• You then focus on yourself. Feel any painful memories or emotions you have. As you exhale, you send yourself compassion.
• Then move your thoughts to someone you feel challenged by, past or present. Breathe in knowing they suffer. Exhale sending them compassion and love. You can even, without too much thought, think of what they need not to suffer, and exhale sending it to them.
• You may move onto doing this for several others if you choose.
• Next, you bring your awareness back to your breath until your mind fills with thoughts.
• Finally, you take deep refreshing, cleansing breaths in and out.

Like other meditations, the words and practice can vary, but the concept is the same. Transforming pain to loving, compassion. Many people find difficulty in “praying” for those that hurt them. Instead, they would rather that person feel pain and suffering. However, pain only begets pain whereas love begets love.

This healing technique is in direct contradiction to what many energy healers would practice. Many healers I know would avoid “taking on” the pain of others. They would do a ritual to protect themselves from absorbing the “stuff” others carry with them.

Several years ago, I met such a practitioner who literally yelled at me for the way I did my Reiki sessions. Because of my empathic nature, I can feel the hurt in others. I would draw this out of them through me and then visualize myself putting it into a magical trashcan in the stars where the universe could recycle it for me. I was told this was wrong. I needed to protect myself. Needless to say, I never listened.

Once at a festival in southern York County, a woman came to me to my tent where I was offering Reiki. “Would you do Reiki on me?” she asked desperately.

“Yes,” I replied.

“Are you sure? Would you do Reiki for me?” she asked again.

“Of course!”

“Feel me first and tell me,” she said implying I tune into her energy. It was intense, but that didn't mean anything to me in terms of declining. It was her energy. Every person is different.

After telling her yes once more, she told me how she had a near death experience that made her energy very intense. She was once a “regular” person and now could communicate with the other side and angels. A booth just yards from where I was at the festival had declined her because of how her energy felt.

I once had a teacher, who despite folklore, vigorously tapped tingshas together. Tingshas should only be struck three times a day between the first day of Autumn and the last day of winter or else you would have the wrath of the King of the Nagas on you for having awoken him from his slumber. The liberal teacher rung the tingshas over and over again without a care saying “I believe in the intention. If I believe nothing will happen to me, nothing will.” I loved my liberal teacher.

What I love is that while doing the Tonglen Meditation you are defying all the rules. That's the rebellious part of me. You are holding the belief that while you are bringing in the suffering of others, you have the ability to help transform their suffering into joy. You have the ability to transform your own pain into something beautiful. The intention of transformation pulls you through.

As a healer, I have to remember that healing others and not taking care of myself is a pitfall. I could so easily take on the pain of others and healing them for a personal gratification. Instead, I have to remember that I am also a pebble tossed into the river. I must also allow myself time to heal and transform. Getting tied to the outcome of whether I helped or not, is not the goal. Whether I helped them transcend pain or get a hug, is not what it is all about. That's the side benefit. The true accomplishment comes to wanting to heal someone who has hurt me, rather than harm them. To love myself enough to want to love myself, instead of beating myself up in my mind. That is the power of Tonglen. To walk through the fire of hate and find love instead.

Meeting in the Middle of the Bridge

There's an old saying that goes "Don't burn bridges." When I was younger, I didn't understand that-at all. I had no trouble fighting for what I wanted and remove obstacles from my path. Growing up in a household of constant conflict instilled in me a courage for conflict. Growing up with an Italian/Albanian family who would shout at each other everything they thought, probably also contributed to it. The shouting was not meant in a negative way. Some cultures just speak loudly waving their arms in the air. Conversation was a form of expressive art.

I thought the only way to resolve an issue was state what you felt, needed and wanted. And then of course, you push for it. I couldn't understand why others had trouble doing the same. If we danced around our issues, how could we resolve them? If we couldn't agree, I could easily part ways.

On Tuesday evening at my daughter's theatre showcase, the students had one skit with a look at what future college roommates could be like. One duo had conflict resolution. One roommate wanted to talk about the issue of accidentally waking up the other. The passive-aggressive roommate did everything they could to not talk about it, but rather mention snippets of how they were awoken. They refused to have a two-way conversation about the issue. The moment of complete hilariousness of this skit was when the roommate who was woken up showed their shirt that said "You woke me up last night." Again, they didn't want to talk about it, though.

"Pick your battles" is another phrase that entered my world when I was in my early thirties. Sometimes, I would just let an issue go. As I have a tendency to swing from one side of the pendulum to the other so rapidly, I went to the extreme left and started letting myself let go of way too many things. I became that person who avoided the conflict and instead suffered in silence. I would suffer for someone else so they would be happy.

The other day my daughter said how she was having difficulty cleaning her room. She doesn't want to be a hoarder, but finds herself with an emotional bond to almost every physical object, even something another person would consider junk. I told her about something I saw on television once, I think on Oprah. They had a hoarder divide their items into different piles. There was one with items you could not live without or had great sentimental value. Another was items you couldn't decide on or difficult to let go of. The last pile was items you could will yourself to let go of.

We all have these piles. They don't always manifest as physical objects, but rather as negotiations with others. At work, in our relationships, in our personal life, with our schedule. Sometimes we need to make piles of what is non-negotiable, what we need to consider and what we can let go of.

Pont Des Arts in Paris (A.K.A The Love Lock Bridge).
Couples bring locks with their initials and toss
keys into the water. Photo courtesy of
http://peoniesandpancakes.files.wordpress.com/

I think now in my late thirties, I am somewhere in the middle. I've learned to stand up for myself, while holding compassion for the needs of others. Sometimes if something is not a necessity for me, I let it go. It's still a challenge on both ends of the spectrum for me. I still suffer for others. I still fight for what I want. I'm a work in progress seeking balance. However, I find that if I can give myself time and distance from a situation I can find how to categorize the situation. (And being a Sagittarius, that can sometimes be only ten minutes tops.) I have learned that standing up for myself is important. Allowing my basic needs to be pummeled is not healthy. When it comes to my family, I will also certainly turn into mama bear. I practice compassion recognizing that my needs may conflict with someone else's. I say a little prayer for their happiness. And while my initial reaction may be to burn that bridge right up, that is sometimes not necessary I've found.

Perhaps if we met somewhere away from fear and ego, recognized our own needs and the needs of others, we could meet in a peaceful spot on that bridge and share it with one another.

Beneficial Garden Herbs

For Mother's Day, I spent the day in the garden. I'm a warm weather person. It's not until the weather reaches at least to 70 degrees, that you will find me working in the garden. Other times of the year, you will certainly see me outside soaking up Vitamin D, enjoying nature, but with a coat on. Gardening to me is best done in grubby clothes where I don't feel smothered in layers.

I threw on my work jeans covered in stains from years of dirt and paint and a simple red tee. I threw my hair back into a pony tail and wasn't sure where I would go first. I decided to plant some of the herbs I purchased last night with my daughter from a local nursery. Into the raised bed went Calendula, Rosemary, Dill, and Chamomile. The Lemon Verbena went into the ground this year near the day lilies and Feverfew as it got so tall two years ago, I learned my lesson.

Each year I go with a blend of cooking and medicinal herbs. This year's loot seemed more on the cooking side, but even those great herbs can help medicinally. "There's rosemary, that's for remembrance, pray you love, remember," says Ophelia in Shakespeare's Hamlet. Aside from memory, Rosemary is good for migraines, joint support and muscle aches, as well as digestion. In the Middle Ages, Rosemary was used to ward off negativity. A herbalist once told me to put rosemary in the worst possible soil and ignore it. All of my efforts to nurture it year after year was lost. Once I "forgot" about it, it thrived.

Dill is a favorite with potato salads and pickling cucumbers. This fluffy herb can help protect against free radicals, can help prevent the growth of bacteria, and is a good source of calcium and fiber.

Lemon Verbena, amazing in salads and in iced teas, helps with anxiety, stress, and relax muscles. With cooling properties, it can also be useful with fevers, diarrhea, and indigestion.

Another amazing herb for tea drinking and salad making is Lemon Balm, also known as Sweet Melissa. This is an aggressive herb and can quickly take over a spot. One small plant has been divided more times than I can recall. Grab some leaves and start to distress. This is also another winner for digestion issues.

Another favorite cooking herb in my garden that I adore is Basil. This flavorful herb makes its way onto my plate in a variety of ways, my favorite being a caprese salad with slices of tomatoes, hunks of mozzarella cheese, and drizzled with olive oil and vinegar. What I love to know as I am eating it is how it has anti-bacterial properties. It is also an anti-inflammatory which can be helpful with multiple issues in the body including rheumatoid arthritis, joint inflammation, back issues, and more. It has also been used for stabilizing blood sugars and help asthmatics with breathing. Plus, it's an antioxidant and we all love our anti-aging serums. It's nice to get it in this tasty leaf.

I'm up to twenty-three herbs and plants, both wild that I keep, ones that come back each year, and those annuals I purchased this year. Having a natural pharmacy in my yard is something that I treasure.

Herbal Remedies in the Garden

When I was around twelve years old, I remember buying my first "grown-up" books. As someone who was not the "average" teenager, my first book was about eco-conscious shopping and brands. My second was on herbal remedies listing uses from around the globe for each ailment. I had no basis to getting these books. My mother did not know anything about climate change or the benefits of recycling at the time (although she did encourage us to collect our aluminum cans and put them in the magical "recycle" machine for change). We lived in Astoria, N.Y., a city, where the only green was at Central Park. Even before that, I remember buying a small paperback book with a pink cover that gave tips on natural ways to combat the teenage nightmare of acne, facials and other health and beauty tips.

People ask me often how I know about herbal remedies. They ask if I studied it in school or am certified. Oddly enough, this knowledge came from experimenting here and there. My first introduction to the world of natural healing was through the astringent, witch hazel, which I learned about in my paperback acne book. At the time I never would have equated it with a shrub. I just knew it was an all natural remedy for getting rid of pimples. It didn't work for me, but I tried every recipe I could possibly make in that book. I used cucumbers on my eyes for puffiness. I used lemon juice in my hair for shine.

As a teenager (aside from lemon juice), I became a vegetarian and started on a food kick learning about minerals, vitamins and proteins. My mother was always an advocate of vitamins. I had upgraded from Flinestones' chewable to an adult tablet. My stepfather was into herbal supplements. Even was I was younger, my father touted the health benefits of cod liver oil.

My friend Missy decided one day when I was in my twenties, that we should make our own all natural skin remedies and sell them at a farmer's market in town. Her vast knowledge of plants was outstanding. Without her knowing, she became my teacher, and I her apprentice. Taking the information she gave me, I continued to researching herbs. Goldenseal, a perennial native to the U.S. has a yellow root that is known for its antiseptic properties. A pinch of this, along with a few teaspoons of french green clay, a drop of tea tree oil and a few drops of water became the perfect acne treatment. I learned to make massage and hair oils. My favorite scent blends was Ylang Ylang and Lavender. I made foot and body scrubs from sugar, salt, seaweed, sesame seeds, and coffee. I made my daughter's oatmeal bath for eczema with ground oats and powdered milk, along with her topical oil of olive oil and calendula. Food and herbs became topical dreams.

Through playing with herbs for topical, I inadvertently learned their medicinal properties. I cared for my family's ailments using that same book I bought when I was a young girl. Each new illness had me delving in looking for something I could concoct.

At a conference during one summer, my daughter who was with me, suffered from a bee sting. A holistic practitioner scooted outside coming back with a handful of dirt. She added a few drops of water from the bathroom sink and applied it to the sting. My daughter immediately felt pain free.

Then came my next lesson in learning herbs through gardening. I wanted an herb garden along with my vegetable garden. What should I grow? What would I use? Each year I added to my garden. A friend led me through the edge of the property where my studio is on beautiful farmland. I learned about wild weeds. Plantain is good for cuts. Dandelion detoxes the body. Stinging nettle for arthritis, digestion, allergies, and urinary tract support. Yellow dock root for cramps, hormone balance, blood builder and cancer. Cleavers (or sticky weed as I refer to it) for the lymphatic system. Common "weeds" gardeners pull out with so many health benefits waiting to be used! She also taught me to look at food, herbs and weeds to see the clues nature left behind. Beets are red so use for blood. Look at it's roots and cut one open and it looks like a heart. Sticky weed sticks to everything so it can collect what your body doesn't need.

Tonight, as I walked around a section of my yard where the spring and summer wildflowers grow, I saw the stinging nettle staring up at me. I recently read how it was stinging nettle picking time. Another first for me, but one I am excited for. And for Mother's Day this year, I think witch hazel for my garden has finally made it onto the list.

The Power of Sound

Sounds can evoke powerful emotions. A song can evoke heart felt tears. The chirping of a bird can make us smile. The sound of waves can soothe us. A honk of a car can bring us to attention. This morning on my back porch, I played Pharrell Williams Happy song on my mobile, picked up my shih tzu, Charlie, and started dancing. While he didn't understand the point of it, I was having a grand time.

In tonight's meditation class, we played around with sound. As we sat on our cushions, we chanted Om. Each part of the sound including the silence that follows has always brought me to a still place as if time didn't exist. During the start of meditation, I strike the singing bowl. Years ago, a friend led meditation classes at work. When she tapped the bowl with her wooden stick, it felt like everything funneled to one single place between my third eye, my third eye chakra. I would instantly get sucked into this void, if only for a moment, with no thoughts. At the end of tonight's class, I invited everyone to close their eyes as they went into a journey of sound. On the carpeted baby blue floor, I laid two singing bowls, tingshas, and a crystal bowl, tuned to the heart chakra. I started with striking one bowl, slowly laying in the next. I added an additional sound by rimming a singing bowl and then started rimming the crystal bowl. We sat in sound for almost ten minutes. At the end, some of the students indicated the sense of calm that overcame them.

Water with John Lennon's Imagine. Courtesy of
http://www.masaru-emoto.net/english/water-crystal.html

Dr. Masaru Emoto's book, The Hidden Messages in Water, reveals the world of sound through the perspective of water. Play for water upbeat, happy songs, and the water forms beautiful crystal shapes. Speak harshly to the water and watch it form into misshaped dull forms. The water literally transformed based on sound. (www.masaru-emoto.net)

How does that effect you? Depending on your body size (weight and height), you are approximately 60% water. "According to H.H. Mitchell, Journal of Biological Chemistry 158, the brain and heart are composed of 73% water, and the lungs are about 83% water. The skin contains 64% water, muscles and kidneys are 79%, and even the bones are watery: 31%." (Source: http://water.usgs.gov) Half of you is made of water. 

When the moon is full, the gravitational pull effects the tides. The ground is also changed, but we cannot witness it as we can with water. Have you ever heard someone say "it's the full moon," when referencing people's odd behaviours and angry outbursts? We are moved by water. We are driven by sound.

How we speak with one another can greatly alter our moods. Sometimes, it isn't even the words we say, but the way we say them. Maybe we should all sing Happy, dance a little, and speak with tender voices. 

Suggested sound for this week: Tibetan Singing Bowls Meditation
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Q5dU6serXkg