Allowing for sensation

Life is painful, it is. It's a lot of other things, too, of course. But being alive involves pain from the moment of birth until our last gasps, moreso for some than others. No wonder, then, that we began searching for ways to dull the pain long ago.

According to my quick google search, opium was first used as a painkiller 6,000 years ago. My guess is that even before that, we used fermented fruits, grains and milk - that is, liquor - to ease the aches and pains of life. Herbal medicine is ancient. Willow bark was steeped in hot water, administered as a tea, long before we figured out how to turn it into aspirin.

May I say right now that I'm all for pain killers. I'm grateful for their existence! Who wants to suffer? Not I, nor anyone I know.

But - at some point, we got carried away with the wonders of painkillers. The picture at the top of this post does not include all the options to relieve pain that are available at the corner drug store. There is an entire aisle of painkillers, which of course doesn't include the stuff you can only get with a prescription. Caffeine is a pain reliever, too.

We can not get enough of our painkillers. That should be a good thing, I guess.  What I see is that the emphasis on using every kind of painkiller has served to convince us, at a very deep level, that we shouldn't experience any kind of physical sensation except pleasure. Believing we should never be in pain has created many problems!

Because we think we should only feel good, whenever we feel a twinge, an ache or a sharp pain, we take something to make it go away, or alternatively we try to ignore it. It's rather appalling to realize that many of us do both at once - swallow an Ibuprofen while actively ignoring the very thing that made us reach for the bottle of pills. After years of this kind of behavior, it becomes almost impossible to feel anything going on internally - except pleasant sensations. It's a big problem when we go see the doctor because it's difficult if not downright impossible for us to accurately explain what we're doing there. We are not fluent in the language of describing symptoms, and too, we're embarrassed, frightened or ashamed to admit we're in pain. We've learned to think pain is wrong. Pain is normal, it is a guide. Yes it's scary - it's supposed to be scary.

The doctor's job is to figure out what's going on. Without detailed input from us, the doc has no choice but to administer tests. Oh lord, the testing, the drawing of blood, the scans, MRIs, the invasions of our beautiful bodies with probes and needles and lights and scopes - well - none of that is pleasant in any way. Yet we submit to these tests because we have no trust in our ability to describe or even to feel what's ongoing internally. We have, by and large, given up even trying to sense health imbalances. We learned to leave it up to the professionals and the professionals came to believe we were of no help in the process of diagnosis. Hence the rise of modern medical testing.

Thank god modern medicine's love of testing peaked a few years ago. It's a relief to see that studies and experts are now advising us to scale back on testing. Current research supports the truth that, in many cases, testing causes more harm than good. I always say to my clients that our bodies do not enjoy being probed, poked, scraped, and having little bits snipped off. Yes there are times when testing is important. I'm grateful we're able to test, but unless something is wrong, it's unpleasant, expensive, frightening and time consuming.

Here's a link to an article from the New York Times about pelvic exams, something I endured annually as a young woman. There was never anything wrong with me. My periods were regular as clockwork, I had cramps but nothing serious. In other words I was a healthy young woman, but still I put my feet in the stirrups every year, submitted to the discomforts of the speculum, for no good reason.

What I've not seen yet is common sense advice to go along with less testing. We have to begin to allow ourselves to feel what's going on inside us. We need to spend time with our symptoms rather than push them away. When we get a headache, we need to be conscious, take note. We need to pay attention to where it hurts, whether it's a dull or sharp pain, if it passes quickly or hangs around. Is there a fever? Do we feel queasy? Are there visual components to the headache? Are we congested? We need to think about whether we've had more headaches than usual recently. If we pay attention, then when we see the doctor, we will be able to provide detailed information about the goings on of our bodies. Less testing won't work unless we step up to the task of paying attention.

When in pain, please try to be kind to yourself. I have clients who get angry with their bodies when they're in pain. This response does not help and is cruel. I say to these people, if your pet was in pain, or your child, would you get angry? Of course not.

Symptoms are the body's way of expressing itself. Please pay attention, please work with those sensations instead of always trying to tamp them down or wipe them out, will you? In this way we will not only become more active participants in our health care, but will become kinder and more compassionate as a result.

Respect your body, please? It's doing the best it can! Shalom.

Be prepared

When something awful happens, such as the Boston Marathon bombings - was that only a little over a week ago? - the first responders are usually bystanders and victims. That's because it's the bystanders who are already there. Did those people know what to do or did they jump in because help was needed, even though they might not have possessed first aid skills? I don't know the answer to that, but I wonder.

To maintain my therapeutic massage license, I'm required to be CPR and first aid certified. I admit I wasn't initially keen on learning these skills since I tend to freeze, like a deer in the headlights, when confronted with emergencies. Would I have rushed towards the explosions in Boston? Probably not. I'm not proud to admit it. But there are many people who would, and will - and did - rush in to help. When I worked at Whole Foods, I was the only employee in my store who was certified in first aid. That seems crazy to me. Every store employee should have been trained, yes?

Though I didn't look forward to it, I was tremendously impressed by my initial training from the Red Cross, and from subsequent trainings since my first class so many years ago. Because of the training I was able to recognize what was happening the one time when a client, arriving for a massage, was close to succumbing to a heart attack. She said she had terrible indigestion, had been belching all day. Her ankles were swollen and she was tired, also sweating even though it wasn't hot. She swore she was OK, but she was not. I had the presence of mind to remember the symptoms from my training, remain calm and call 911. I knew to tell her to sit quietly until the EMTs arrived. (She had a stent put into an artery and was fine.)

Though it's not likely I would run towards the scene of a disaster, the training helped me deal appropriately with that situation. It was well worth it - my client would agree!

Much of CPR/first aid training involves common sense. Some of the training is specific and technical, especially for CPR, rescue breathing, using an AED and for situations such as helping people who are choking. It is well worth learning these skills.

Hands on classes are available in most cities. You can also study online these days - of course. I just took a class from Pro-First Aid that was top notch, a series of 3-5 minute instruction videos on a variety of scenarios. Even if you don't take the test, pay the fee and become certified, it's well worth learning how to conduct yourself in an emergency. You can just watch the videos. I highly recommend it.

It's sad that in the U.S. we are experiencing horrible tragedies such as the bombings, also the mass shootings we've endured particularly since 9/11. Since we as a country seem unable to curb our addiction to weapons, I expect there will be more of these awful tragedies.

We humans are, by and large, a good hearted species. There are a few bad seeds, but mostly we are altruistic, compassionate and brave as hell to run towards an explosion rather than away from it. Every one of us good people should have some basic training in first aid and CPR, just in case. I'm not hoping or wishing for disaster, but if it should happen, wouldn't you rather know what to do?

May you and yours be well, may you and yours be safe. Shalom.

Mad as hell?

In spite of the truth that we humans are highly emotional beings capable of experiencing a wide array of feelings, in American society (in general) only a couple of emotional states are acceptable. 

Joy and its lackluster sibling, happiness, are OK. There are many studies, books and ideas out there about how to become happy. Those who seem unable to access that emotion are often judged. 12 Things Happy People Do Differently circulated on FB recently. The question is, differently than whom? Oh! Those unhappy LOSERS. Isn't that the unspoken message?

Sadness, depression, worry, grief, and fear are taboo. We're supposed to "get over it," or take a pill or pretend we feel some other way. Don't worry, be happy. If only it were so easy! I understand the idea behind it - no one wants to see others suffering. No one I know enjoys suffering. But these uncomfortable feelings are an essential part of being human. I wish we were more tolerant of the complex, conflicted assortment of thoughts and feelings inherent in our humanity.

It's OK to be happy in my society. It's also OK to be angry. In fact there are many situations in which anger is admired, vaunted, elevated as the most desirable of emotional states. The saying, If you aren't outraged, you aren't paying attention describes perfectly the way we admire anger. It's bizarre. 

Anger can be effective even when it should be the other way around. I'm referring to situations in which, for instance, I've only succeeded through anger, by being the squeaky wheel who demands to speak to the manager. Customer service would, in a world of my making, revolve around the people who are polite, not the jerks waving their fists and raising their voices until everyone in the vicinity is uncomfortable.

Sometimes I become the fist waving jerk, but only when the polite and patient approach isn't working. When I have to resort to that kind of behavior, I'm always amazed - and appalled - by how quickly my needs are addressed. It's not right, but it is how things work in my society.

After a display of anger, I feel shaky and exhausted, my stomach hurts, my jaw is clenched and I'm positive my blood pressure is elevated, though I've never measured it. Further, after a bout of anger, it's difficult to turn my mood around. I feel resentful, even when the wrongs I got so worked up about have been righted. Other situations that make me mad come into my mind. It's as if I want to feed the anger. I think I'm not the only one to react this way.

Pema Chodron, a super bad ass Buddhist, describes anger as a "piercing" emotion that can clear the air and reveal the truth in a situation or within the heart of the angry person. She advises allowing anger to move through quickly because anger is hot. Clinging to anger, or congealing around that feeling, will burn you. So says Pema and I agree with her. In Chinese medicine, sustained anger will create liver fire. Believe me, you don't want liver fire!

Anger is a rush. It can be addictive because it kicks up lots of adrenaline, but it is not a healthy place to be. I'm thinking about it this morning in the wake of the Senate failing to pass a benign, bipartisan bill meant to help keep guns out of the hands of criminals and the mentally ill. We Americans were already saddened by the Boston Marathon bombing, but we're not supposed to be sad, we're supposed to be happy or angry. People will tell us to be angry, they will encourage it, moreso than usual in the aftermath of Boston.

It's not a happy week in the U.S. I expect to encounter waves of anger for the next little while. Because I find the emotion debilitating I will do my best to keep breathing and to stay grounded. I wish there was such a thing as an energetic fire extinguisher. I expect it would come in handy for the next few days at least.

If you're angry, and reading this, maybe you will take some deep breaths, relax your jaw, feel terra firma underfoot. Take one step backwards into the center of your energy. Stand up straight.

By all means contact your senators, voice your opinion, but then, try to let go if possible. Just try. OK?

Shalom.

Lighter is better, in spring

In a minute I'm going to say I think it's ok to diet in spring, but before I do, I'm compelled to say I'm against most diets. Even when people say they're changing the way they eat for health reasons, there is more often than not an underlying hope that they will drop a few pounds at least. This phenomena takes place no matter the size of the dieter. We are obsessed with diminishing ourselves. This obsession is way out of balance. Also, if diets really worked the way we're promised, wouldn't everyone be their ideal size?

Of course there are people who are too big for their own good - lots of them. I see them all the time, struggling to walk a block, red faced and panting. And I see people who are grotesquely huge, who have given up even trying to walk - also people who are grotesquely skinny. There are extremes, of course. Most of the urban people I see every day are normal in size whether they're bigger or smaller than the narrow cultural norm.

The idea that all humans should be the same size is ridiculous. If you look at pictures of humans from around the world, it's easy to see we are diverse in terms of everything - height, hair color, skin color, proportion - and also weight. Some people are naturally skinny, some are hearty in size. We are a very diverse species in terms of structure and appearance.

I swear if we could gather the energy people invest in worrying about their weight, if we could channel that energy into generators, there would be no need for foreign oil.

OK - enough ranting. Here's the part where I say it's OK to diet in spring.

Depending on how harsh winter is where you live, chances are you've been doing a bit more sitting around than during other seasons. Chances are you've eaten rather heavy foods through the winter. Maybe you put on a couple of pounds. This is normal, appropriate winter behavior.

When spring has sprung, it's time to shift gears. Eating lighter foods, introducing cool foods like fresh fruit and salads, and eating less of everything will help your body adjust to the new season. Likewise, in spring it's time to get off the sofa and outside, to begin to move around more.

I'm not suggesting that you focus on losing weight, but rather on an approach that suits the season and furthers your wellbeing. This is not about looking good in a bikini, it's about feeling great.

As always, including throughout winter, please eat real food. In general, if what you're eating comes from a box, that is not real food. Exceptions include rice and dried beans, that sort of thing.

Eat what appeals to you, eat foods you're able to digest. If what you eat is energizing and satisfying, great! If what you eat makes you feel queasy or groggy, you should think about changing your diet. The digestive system is a big part of the immune system. Everything is better when you're able to metabolize what you eat.

Here's a post I wrote last year about diets and choosing foods that are right for you.

Fasts and hard core cleanses (in which you take a boatload of supplements and drink only specific, processed liquids) that last more than 3 days are extremely hard on your liver, kidneys and heart. They put the body in a mild state of shock which I know to be intoxicating. If you must get high at the expense of your liver, well, OK ... but remember what you're doing is no better than going on a bender for a few days.

Be gentle and kind to your body, please? It's doing the best it can.

Happy Spring. Shalom.

By any other name?

There are still plenty of people who use the term masseuse. To me, a masseuse is either a a busty gal dressed as a French maid who shows up at a man's house to have sex, or a broad shouldered Scandinavian bruiser who is going to grind your bones to a pulp whether you want that or not.

I like the term massage therapist. That is what I do: therapeutic massage. Most of us, at least where I live, prefer to be called massage therapists.

There are many folks in my profession who work in spas or at massage places where they pay a lot of rent or are, for other reasons, required to crank through many sessions in a work day. These people race to keep up with what's expected of them, which means they're left without a lot of time before and after sessions. They have to work so fast, it's not possible to complete a thorough intake interview with clients before a session. They barely have time to change the sheets on the table, let alone tune in to the person they are about to treat, nor even a minute to ask the client, after the session, how well the work addressed what was going on. They definitely don't have time to design a session specifically for each client, hence they develop a one-hour protocol they use on everyone, no matter what.

Let me say clearly that I have nothing against that kind of bodywork. I enjoy spa massage tremendously. But it isn't therapeutic.

Sometimes a massage technician will take a minute to ask if there's somewhere in particular I'm especially stiff or stuck. I might say my neck and shoulders are tight. But then they then go ahead and do the exact same session for me they do for everyone, one in which they pay no special attention at all to my neck and shoulders. It's kind of funny. They know they're supposed to ask, but they don't make use of the information. I guess they're just curious, or trying to sound interested.

I'm not saying the work I do varies radically from person to person, but each session is tailored to what's going on with the client on the table. This not only benefits my clients, but makes the work a lot more interesting for me. What I do is personal, while what massage technicians do is more of a spa treatment for the masses.

Do I sound judgmental? I'm not. In my society we are so touch deprived, I think there's room for many different kinds of massage. The more, the merrier!

Comings and Goings

People say prostitution is the oldest profession. I disagree. Shamanism is the oldest profession. Want to bet? Within shamanism, I would further bet that soul retrieval is the oldest healing technique. (The laying on of hands is definitely as old or older, but not specifically shamanic.)

According to my cosmology, the soul is multi-faceted. Bits of soul regularly travel away from the body, to explore, wander, learn, also in circumstances that render the body an uncomfortable home for said soul bit. Accidents, injuries, disease and other traumas can be discouraging to the soul which, according to everything I've ever read, will vamoose the body promptly in these kinds of situations. What we call shock is a perfect example of a moment of soul loss. When the danger has passed and the person's injuries have been attended to, the soul is likely to come back on its own.

Sometimes a part of the soul wanders too far afield, or gets stuck in some other realm. Those who suffer from a prolonged bout of soullessness are just as you would expect: vacant, blank, depressed or spaced out, or all of the above. Likewise people in comas as well as those with dementias are missing large pieces of their souls.

For perhaps 100,000 years, when that happens, a shaman is called in to find the missing bit, bring it back to what we call reality, and help it settle back into the correct body.

If you're making a face, please remember that our society is an anomaly in terms of human history. From the north pole to the south pole, throughout our history, there have always been shamans among us, retrieving our souls. For those who would dismiss even the idea of soul retrieval, may I say: you're the exception, not the rule. No offense.

Soul retrieval does not necessarily involve a shaman banging on a drum, dancing around all night. Even in my uber-rational society, we go about the business of soul retrieval every day. We just don't call it that. We call it psychotherapy or acupuncture. We come across an old picture, or listen to a piece of music that triggers a flood of memories from a former era in life. That flood of memories is a soul bit returning to the fold. It is, believe me. A weekend at the beach, a meeting with an old friend you haven't seen in awhile, or an encounter with beauty can function as a soul retrieval.

A part of soul retrieval involves making the body a calm, peaceful place in which to reside, hence meditation, yoga, t'ai chi, a session of Reiki, a rhythmic therapeutic massage or a nice long walk on a beautiful day, can lay the foundation for return.

I used to wonder why bits of soul take off so often, and so universally.

Why is not that important, and in many cases beyond our comprehension anyway. What's important about soul retrieval is this: when parts of us are missing, we are not whole. Wholeness allows us to fully experience the precious existence of life lived in a human body. I'm good with my souls traveling around a bit, bringing back inspiration, ideas and challenges, but at the end of the day, I want to return to wholeness. I wish to be, as often as possible, whole hearted, whole souled. Don't you?

Life is good and I am grateful. Shalom.

Read all about it!

My first Reiki teacher encouraged us not to read about Reiki. He told us the story of Dr. Usui and those who followed him, but during most of the Level I weekend what we did was practice on ourselves and each other. He told us to practice every day, to feel the Reiki flowing, and to resist trying to understand or intellectualize that for which there really is no suitable descriptive language. Always a Very Good Student, I followed his advice.

Later, after my Level II attunement, I began looking at books about Reiki. Good lord there are some horrible Reiki books out there. Wow.

But at last I've found a book I think is top notch. It's "Reiki, A Comprehensive Guide," by Pamela Miles. It's available through Amazon and well worth a read if you're interested.

I have some quarrels with Pamela's point of view. She is an ultra-traditional practitioner, a devotee of Mrs. Takata (the person who is responsible for bringing Reiki to the U.S.). Pamela is ultra orthodox, something I always have a problem with, no matter the discipline. Ultra orthodox Jews, Muslims, Christians, Vegans and Reiki masters scare me, they are so rigid. They are right and everyone else is wrong. And, too, she insulted me when I mentioned that I give Reiki to the Washington Monument. She called me "capricious." She said I discredited Reiki with this practice. That wasn't nice, was it? She questioned whether what I was doing with the monument was "real" Reiki. She was very dismissive.

Her life goal is to bring Reiki into modern medicine which means we are not supposed to come off like (as someone on her FB page said) "crystal waving, sage burning crazies." OK, I guess.

But her book is very good. Nobody's perfect.

She says vibration is the substrata of what we call reality. That resonates not only with me, but with modern physicists. (Even resonance is vibration!) She says vibration is the intersection of spirituality and reality.

She describes Reiki as a vibrational adaptogen. According to Pamela, Reiki addresses the substrata of reality, adjusting the rhythm of vibration underlying pain, disease or discomfort to bring balance and a sense of peace.

That is interesting! And, may I add that the Washington Monument is basically a gigantic crystal. Is there some reason that addressing the substrata of vibration there is capricious? You tell me.

As you can see, I'm a bit miffed. I'll get over it. In the meantime, may you find yourself in sync with your body's many rhythms and with the vibrational substrata of life. May it be so! Shalom.