The Cauldron of Transformation

Thought I knew what that was. Turned out I didn't have any idea until now. Five days of sitting, walking (barely - about a foot a minute), sitting, bowing, sitting, oryoki (ritual eating), bowing, sitting, walking, (drink tea, go to the bathroom, sit in a real chair) sitting, bowing, sitting walking.....you get the idea. Physically, emotionally, mentally rigorous.

It burns away everything until you can begin to touch the space between the notes, and then contemplate the possibility that there are no notes.

Drove my car home at about 18 mph. Granted, it was slippery, but that just made me not look like an idiot for driving home at 18 mph. Seemed fast to me.

Rohastu Sesshin Day 3 Haiku:
A figure of stone
Scoured and worn by wind and sand
Each breath sets me free

Rohastus Sesshin Day 4:
At 5:30 am I watched the snow skitter across the lake ice.

I wanted to write a poem.
Something about how the wind blew snow ghosts across the thin, hard ice,
while underneath, the water lay still;
dark, deep and liquid.

Then the dawn broke
and I could see that the waves had shattered the night's ice,
and what I had seen was the surface of the lake
rippled by the wind.

Good thing I didn't write that poem.

Rohastu Sesshin Day 5 Haiku:
We sit in Zazen
Never knowing we are there
The snow buries us.

Gassho.

The Cosmic Downloads

A couple of years ago I took some advice from my clients and went out a limb. For years during my sessions with clients, I got "cosmic downloads" (or so I dubbed them). I would suddenly find myself in possession of knowledge that I had not had moments before, and this information presented itself somewhat insistently. Finally, some clients convinced me that people wanted this knowledge and I should let it fly. So far, they've been right about that 99.9% of the time.

I have to say that there are times that I struggle with this, but I've gotten better at trusting my instincts and knowing what is information to share or not. Then it usually becomes a matter of proper timing and framing of the information that is the source of my quandary. These "downloads" come in a kind of mental short-hand. This short hand generally comes in one of two categories: Metaphor and Catch-phrase.

When information shows up as metaphors, it is some sort of image or abstraction that encompasses a larger concept. I am always aware that this image is one that I've created as a way of conveying a large idea to myself, so I have to analyze what it means to me and then translate. This sounds like a long and distracting process, but it happens pretty naturally and readily. Not every metaphor is universal and so if I'm going to share the metaphor, I'd better have either a couple of back-up images that round it out, a more universal metaphor, or an explanation of the existing one.

In the case of the "catch-phrase" downloads, if I just blurted them out in the way that they arrive, they would come across as, at best, flip. At worst, they would come out as blunt or even harsh. The concepts behind them are much more nuanced than they initially seem (as they are, as stated, a kind of short-hand), so I must flesh them out into what they really mean, not what they sound or feel like.

This all is laying ground for the next topic, which I'll save that for tomorrow since it's introducing a whole new concept.

Obligatory Election Day Posting

Did you vote today? Here in Minnesota we are usually the state with the highest voter turn-out; generally close to 80%. We may have close to 90% today.

Minnesotans celebrate their ability to vote in a way that tickles me. When we had caucuses in the cold this year, the line in my district (at least for the DFL caucus) went down the hall, out the building, through the parking lot and around the corner. People would come and stop and ask, "Is this the line for the caucus?" When we'd say yes they'd say, "Cooool," and trip merrily to the end of the line.

That's another weird/cool thing about Minnesota. We don't have a Democratic Party, we have the Democratic/Farm/Labor Party. Lotta Socialists settled here. We may have elected a professional wrestler to the governor's office, but we never voted for Reagan.

Go Vote.

A Clay Jug Full of Canyons

Today was prop up your good friends day, which I am always more than happy to do. One of the people who needed propping was really at the end of her rope already when she had some old, icky business rear it's head.

"I thought I was done with this! I thought it was out of my life and I wouldn't have to deal with it anymore!" When she was done with her well-deserved freak out, I told her that now I was going to "go all Buddhist on her ass." And proceeded to do so. The reason I did was that what she said clearly resonated for me with what was on my mind with yesterday's post.

Kabir wrote about the clay jug which can contain mountains and canyons and the tools we need to test our mettle (or metal), because we contain everything. All our experiences, every lake we've gazed at, every leaf we've raked, every eclipse we've watched, they exist inside and outside us. We contain them entirely. No matter how many things we make part of our experience, part of us, there is infinite space left.

The upshot of this is that we cannot leave behind our experiences as we contain them, but that bad relationship, tragically embarrassing experience, or profoundly moving moment mean no more, or more less than that moon, that canyon, that raked leaf. They all just are.

Fingers Pointing to the Moon

Inside this clay jug there are canyons and pine mountains,
and the makers of canyons and pine mountains!
All seven oceans are inside, and hundreds of millions of stars.
The acid that tests gold is there, and the one that judges jewels.
And the music from the strings that no one touches, and the source of all water.

- Kabir (translation by Robert Bly)

I met Erik Storlie Sunday at the MZMC; he was the guest speaker for the Dharma talk and, I learned, one of the founders of MZMC. He shared the Kabir poem above as an example of how we are infinite in scope. Usually, Zen poetry is used to illustrate Zen principles, but although Kabir is many things, a Zen Buddhist is not one of them.

In addition to this poem, he made a reference to the concept of enough (Dayenu) from the Pesach seder. It did my heart so much good to hear him draw from a multiple outside sources. Immersing myself in comparative religion has been an avocation of mine for many years. When I am concentrating on getting clarity on spiritual and philosophical issues, I draw from my exposure to a wide variety of world religions, but Buddhism, most especially Zen Buddhism tends to draw somewhat exclusively from their own (admittedly large) pool of texts and poetry. It was comforting to see someone else feeling free to look outside the proverbial temple for inspiration.

There is a famous teaching that the teachings of the Buddha are like a finger pointing at the moon. Having Judaism, Hinduism, earth spirituality, Sufism, etc. from which to draw from feels like I have many friends with me, all pointing. It seems to me that the more fingers that are pointing, the more easily I can find the moon.

The Place Where You Live

I was cooking some wild rice today and it took me into a place of considering food and place. (If you live in Minnesota, you know that there is no food stuff more associated with this place than wild rice.)

A couple of Septembers ago, my friend Richard was visiting from Hawaii and I said something about, "Oo - it's getting to be risotto season!" To which he responded, "Risotto has a season?" I had to explain to him that when you live in a place where you have seasons, and the temperature can vary as much as 135 deg.F (this is not an exaggeration) over the course of a year, you don't cook things like risotto in the summer (or chili for that matter). He had a real "Aha" moment about place and food; I could see the gears clicking together in his head.

This, then brings me to examining my relationship to place. I've always lived somewhere with seasons; distinct, extreme, defined seasons. I wonder how my life would be different if I lived at a different geography. Somewhere where seasons manifest differently - or, as in Hawaii, there is only one. I cook so seasonally that I wonder how my meals would be different. Would I never make chicken soup again? Would I cook like it was summer all the time or would I adjust to the sameness and begin to vary my menu? As it is, I absolutely cannot eat asparagus out of season; it's just too weird for me, so I must contemplate my relationship to locality and seasonality would be.

Richard was dying for fresh apples when he was here (for which it was, unfortunately, too early). Funny to think of apples as exotic.

My birthday is at the beginning of September, so I am curious as to whether my relationship with my birthday would be different. By the end of August, I am a bit tired of summer, so I wonder if I would tire of the sameness of the seasons or if I would miss the anticipation of the change.

"Stand in the place where you live. Now face north. Think about direction and wonder why you haven't. Stand in the place where you work. Now face West. Think about the place where you live and wonder why you haven't before." – "Stand" by REM.

A Rest Stop in the State of the Sublime

An Adobe Abode
Translation is such a tricky thing. Pali is the original language of the buddhist liturgy and is, essentially, a dead language. Combine this with the cultural gap between modern Westerners and ancient South Asians and translation becomes a tricky thing.

I have a particular interest in the Brahma Viharas which is frequently translated as the "Divine" or "Sublime" Abodes or Abidings, and they are Compassion, Equanimity, Loving Kindness, and Sympathetic Joy (again, there are some translation considerations here).

I felt compelled to get clear about what, exactly, "Abode" or "Abidings" mean. Since translations are the purview of academics, I wanted to see what the linguistics of this phrase are, sending me into Dorky Fascination No. 28: Etymology.

My understanding of the word "abode" was pretty limited, as it (embarrassingly) turns out. I thought that it meant "residence" and "abide" meant "tolerate". I'm not sure how I reconciled the two; basically, I guess I just didn't bother. Although my translations were not incorrect, they were incomplete. "Abode" also means: "stay or continuance in a place; sojourn". Not entirely different from my definition, but different enough in important ways. Abode implies an impermanent resting place. The connotations of this are initially disconcerting. After all, if these are sublime ways of being, aren't they the state we must be in all the time? But if we look at "abide", which in verb form is the present tense of "abode", it can be defined, "To remain stable or fixed in some state or condition; to continue; to remain."

I am taking to a place where I see a place of rest, stability. This is a state where we can find respite. It is an opportunity for repose. When the frustration or dismay over striving to make the Divine Abodes a permanent state of being becomes disconcerting, we can remind ourselves that we can go to them as an interlude or breathing space. Then, be with, enjoy, and appreciate the moments we find ourselves there.

Get a "Life"

It's been a while since I had a must-see TV show. I have several I enjoy, but if I miss them, it's of no large concern. I think the last time I had a show where I refused to answer the phone and on nights I had to miss it, just in case, I double recorded it, was "West Wing". I've been feeling good about the fact that I have not developed any other TV obsession, until now. Fortunately, we now have Fancast so I can watch old episodes and get caught up.

What is this new addiction? "Life". Here's the premise: A cop is falsely convicted of murder. Since he's a cop, the other prisoners regularly beat the crap out of him, his wife divorces him, and he discovers Zen. After 12 years it is discovered that he was falsely accused, is set free with a substantial (at least seven figures) settlement, and goes back on the job. He is now quirky, awkward, and has little to no relationship with, or understanding of, camera phones, instant messaging, and car GPS systems. His Zen education is obviously self-taught and thus he is stumbling toward enlightenment the best he can figure out how.

One of my favorite lines so far is when he is driving his extremely hot new car and he keeps repeating, "I am NOT attached to this car. I am NOT attached to this car. I'm just attached to this car."

Think about it.

Plus it has Robin Weigert in it. I love her. And Adam Arkin. I love him too. I met him once - very handsome.

The Buddha Machine vs. Lawn Signs

Many of my friendships are defined by particular characteristics. These characteristics may not be unique to this particular relationship (say, "shoe shopping buddy"), nor are they the sum-total of the relationship, but they are somehow an important part of the identity of that relationship. My friend and, until recently, co-worker, Mats and I have one of those relationships. It is defined by our fondness for weird Asian kitsch. We have been buying each other stuff for years. All of it somewhat inexpensive, all of it amusing.

This year for my birthday I received from him the Buddha Machine. Cool, weird, funky (don't know how much he paid for it, so I can't tell you if it was cheap), and wonderful. It is a small, blue, plastic mechanical device from China that plays twelve different Buddhist chants. It comes on a lanyard - need I say more. Not being entirely sure what to do with it, I have hung it in my car where I could be serenaded at will.

Today I was driving to a far suburb, and about half-way there I flipped on the Machine, chose a chant and chilled. I was curious what letting this thing run would be like. It took me a minute or two with several of the chants to really settle into one, but once I did - whoa.

What I Learned:

First of all, chants are something that allow your mind to focus on one, simple thing. Playing chants is a weird thing to do when you're driving. You are both more present, but less alert; or the opposite; or something. At first, it did not permeate my reality that much. Then, suddenly, I understood that the chants were beginning to draw my attention and I wondered if driving and chants were as good a combo as I had initially thought. (I learned a while ago that I couldn't listen to Eckhardt Tolle and drive at the same time.)

Again suddenly, I realized that I was experiencing a synthesis between the driving and the chanting. It was about this time that I hit the edge of the 'burb's residential area. Spread before me about every block or so, was a house with political campaign signs. The majority of these signs were for candidates I have little interest in supporting - some I might even have a tendency to respond to somewhat viscerally. The thing is, by the time I hit the string of lawn signs, I was in a place where I was able to observe them with a breathtaking amount of equanimity (not to mention an ease with simultaneously observing my equanimity!). They were signs. With names on them. Huh.

The Buddha Machine - who knew? As cool as it is, I think I'll be careful/responsible about using this in a moving vehicle. Late nights, for example, would be right out. Nine hour car trips; also probably a bad idea. Respect the Machine.

Fig Finale

I ate the rest of the figs. I bought more figs. Lots of them. I am not going to pine over the perfect fig, nor am I going to live my fig-eating life in search of the next perfect fig. I am going to enjoy each and every fig as the fig that it is.

FYI: I did get one very bad fig. You couldn't tell from the outside, but it was FUN-KY on the inside. So, as I have not let the perfect fig ruin my fig eating, neither will I let the evil fig.

No attachment. No aversion. Just eating fruit.

The Perfect Fig

Yesterday I was doing a quick "drive by" shop of the Trader Joe's across from my office. I was working a long shift and wanted to have some fruit and nuts for quick snacks I could grab between appointments, when I saw a large container of fresh figs. I love figs. Love them. Heart them. After quickly assessing their mold situation (fresh figs seem to mold before they leave the store), I snagged them with glee.

I didn't end up eating them until I got into the car to head home. I broke open the seal, reached in, and bit deeply into a fig. It was good; good enough for another one. This one was better. One by one I worked my way into the box, relishing each one, until I bit into a fig that exposed me to a depth and richness of flavor I had never met before. It was a fresh fit with all the dark, sweet funkiness of a dried fig. I was transported.

This transcendent experience put me in a quandry. My choice:

1. Stop eating figs (For now? Forever?) as no fig can compare to this perfect, ripe jewel.
2. Eat more figs hoping for more of the same or, be still my heart, one even better.
3. Eat more figs acknowledging with a sweet anguish that no fig will ever live up to this one.
   

What do you think I did? What would you do? What does this say about attachment and equanimity? If you try to log in and it gets hinky, email me here.

New Haiku For You

Birds chirp and chatter
About the pain in my back
I should listen

This is the haiku that wrote itself during my day-long retreat this weekend. The point of sitting is NOT to be creative - or even to think. Sometimes they happen anyway.

Things that Bug the Crap Out of Me - Part 2

I've gotten some responses to the Bug Me Item file and the first one I'm going to address is Public Expectoration. I chose this one because it is straight-forward and, interestingly, high on the list of my own personal Pet Peeves. Good one, Nancy! This makes a great challenge for me!

First I want to be clear that no matter how I tweak it, rudeness is unacceptable. We cannot be inconsiderate of others with the expectation that others need to get over it. I consider public spitting rude. Unfortunately we live in a world with it; how can we do so with our respective heads in a better place? Let's look at what it does to us – why does it bug us and how? I wasn't told why it bugs our correspondent, so I'll have go with my own issues.

1. It is dirty. Nothing is dirtier than the human mouth - and what comes out of it.
2. The sound of someone coughing up phlegm makes me gag (I'm gagging right now just writing about it).
3. It is unnecessary. There is no reason to spit. If there is, use a handkerchief.
4. I might step in it; which can result in the reaction described in #2.
5. Per the objections stated above, it is inconsiderate.
6. There is an aura of machismo that seems to be associated with spitting, making it as much a statement as a biological urge or necessity.
   

This is tough. The first place I am tempted to go is to causality, why one would spit. I'm not sure why individuals spit so it's hard for me to go there for understanding and compassion. The fact that I have such a visceral reaction makes it that much more challenging as well.

1. Spitting can be culturally specific. Spitting anywhere in China has, until recently, been considered completely appropriate. (Between the arrival of foreigners for the Olympics and SARS, the government has been launching anti-spitting campaigns.) Is the spitter native to this country? How embarrassed he will be when he finds out it is not appropriate.
2. The gag reflex is my own reaction. Own it.
3. Men don't carry tissues. Men are spitters. Men have nothing into which they may spit.
   
4. I am reminded of the story of my then co-worker, Mary Margaret McMahon, who returned from her lunch break telling me about this poor woman she had seen who must have grown up without a mother because she was wearing white pants in October. Her concern and sympathy for the woman were genuine; she really had jumped to the decision that the woman had no mother, and thus her fashion gaff. Can we consider that the spitter has or had no adult to correct his ill behavior?
5. The macho 16 year old is, whether spitting or displaying some other ridiculous chest-beating behavior, flirting with adulthood and scared sh**less. Poor kid.
   

This case, in particular is about adjusting our overall attitude. Of course rude behavior bothers us, particularly when it has an impact that feels personal. It is a matter of how much you are willing to be worked up about it. The key is in adjusting your own relationship to the event. I really hate spitting, but am I going to let it put a serious damper on my day? So, I guess another discussion that needs to happen soon is Techniques for Shifting Your Relationship to Events.

Love to hear your responses to this one.

Housekeeping - Let's Keep in Touch

My sister keeps telling me that she cannot comment on my blog. Is anyone else having this problem? If so, please click here to go to my website and you can email from the bottom of the page, or directly at kate@thehealingpresence.com and let me know. All my settings indicate that anyone, including anonymous posters, can comment (all comments do, initially, go to me for moderation - I have yet to reject anything.).

If you do want to comment and it doesn't go through, please email me and (a) describe what happens and (b) tell me your comment so I can post it.

The next post I intend to be Stuff that Bugs the Crap Out of Me Part 2. Stay tuned!

Not What You Were Expecting

Today's exercise for myself is to subvert expectations, watch my expectations be subverted, or notice the capacity for subverted expectations. The other day, I took my daughter to buy a white garment to dye in her batik class and I suggested a polo shirt. She thought that batiking a polo shirt was weird and I tried to explain to her that is was cool because it subverted expectations. She wasn't interested in hearing it at that point.

In a couple of weeks we are going to be taking my daughter to visit her Kansas City relatives and my father-in-law suggested we meet in Des Moines and find something fun to do there. Fun. In Des Moines. Now, I'm not a big cosmopolitan snob, but I've driven through Des Moines more times than I can count and we couldn't even find a good place for lunch there. Everyone else has seemed to have a lot more enthusiasm for this than I have.

Desperately, I turned to the internet only to discover that there are something like 5 or 6 historical homes to tour. You have to understand, we all have our own nerdy buttons (I think I have more than the average) and historical home tours is a big one for me. So now, I'm the one who's all worked up about the historic homes.

Also, the Des Moines Art Center is housed in a building designed by (NERD ALERT) Eliel Saarinen with additions by Richard Meier and I.M. Pei. Okay, I'm sold.

Having our expectations subverted is a wonderful exercise in recognizing:

• Our attachment to our ideas and investment in them
• How our preconceptions take us out of living in the present as we make decisions about how things will be – a recipe for having them disrupted either for the better or worse

So, today (and maybe all week) I will notice when I have expectations, when I can let go of them, and when they are subverted (as well as making an effort to gently subvert them in others).

I want to hear about your experience with your expectations being subverted (or subverting others). Hey guys! I'm dying for a conversation here!

Things That Bug the Crap Out Of Me - Part 1

I have decided that it might be interesting to examine things that get on my nerves and, by examining them, learn more about equanimity and compassion. Please be warned; they are bound to be stupid. Embarrassingly so. The things that get on our nerves rarely deserve the energy we give them.

The first one, in no particular order of gravity, irritation-induction, or importance, involves the new Dyson hand-dryers being installed in public restrooms. Does anyone NOT hate those electric hand-dryers in the restrooms? They just don't work worth a damn. The Airblade does. I was so profoundly impressed with these things. They work. Well. Really well. So what's my issue?

So the problem itself is not the dryers; it is the people who use them. They work very simply. You stick your hands in and then slowly pull them out and the dryer works like an air squeegee. Genius, no? Directions are posted and worded clearly above the dryer. So why do people try to use them incorrectly? Here's this beautifully designed solution to a problem and people can't be bothered to learn how to use it properly. Of course, it then works no better than the old-style dryer. Let me be clear, this issue does not keep me up at night or raise my blood pressure appreciably. It just bugs me.

Now, I didn't design the Dyson Airblade; why do I care whether or not people use it or appreciate it appropriately? I think the things that I find irritating are:

1. Here is a product which does not look at all like the product it is replacing. There is a pervasive lack of curiosity that is made apparent here,
2. There is no appreciation for good industrial design - both in the aesthetic and practical senses,
3. There is no gratitude that someone designed something that will make YOUR life better, addressing an inherently problematic and pervasive item we all encounter.

That probably boils it down for now.

Okay, let's break it down:

1. I feel a kind of compassion for those who, for whatever reason, live their life without the capacity for curiosity. Perhaps they are overwhelmed by other problems in their lives. Maybe they were raised in an environment in which curiosity was firmly discouraged (it happens - sad but true). Whatever the reason; I can allow my heart to soften in relationship to these people because I realize that their circumstances are deficient and I wish them better.
2. I don't know what to do about this one.
3. How do I know what their feelings about the Airblade? This is a hyper-dramatization of the story I have started in my own head about these people. I have used the momentum of my indignation to wind myself up and used this as fuel for the fire of self-righteous thrills.
   

There. I feel better all ready.

So, like my friend Dennis Cass who is trying to help people become more awesome in their contributions to culture (primarily writing), I'd like to help people cope better with life. Is there something bugging the crap out of you? Would you like me to help you defuse it in a way that creates compassion and takes the energy out of it?

Send your pet peeves to me and we'll see what we can make of them.

Accidental Poetry

Why do you worry When the wind blows so wildly Through the trees outside

I wrote this haiku by (sort of) accident last Sunday. I went to the Minnesota Zen Meditation Center as I frequently do on Sunday mornings to sit and hear a dharma talk. When I showed up, I discovered that Norman Fischer was there to do the talk!

I kinda knew who Zoketsu Norman Fischer was; I've read an article or two by him or quoting him, but not much. He came in and sat zazen (meditation) with us before his talk. While we sat, we could hear the wind blowing in fierce gales through the open windows; shaking the trees ferociously. As I sat, I was struck some anxiety (as sometimes happens) and I thought to myself, "How can you worry when the wind is blowing so wildly?" and then it became a poem, right there in front of me. Writing poetry is not the point of zazen, but there it was; I had to nudge it to get it into haiku form, but not much.

When Tim Burkett introduced Norman, he mentioned, before anything else, that he is a poet. This took me a bit aback. Never have I written a poem in zazen before and it made me wonder about the possible extent and ramifications of resonance. I talk a lot about emotional resonance with others in my Healing Presence classes and the effect it can have on the overall experience. I had never considered the idea of resonance in terms of skills or talents. Did being in that state of presence with someone who writes poetry regularly and skillfully resonate with my "inner poet"? I am delighted with this discovery and cannot wait to explore and play with this idea, stretching it to its illogical conclusion.

Please share any experience you have had along these lines; I'm dying to hear about them.

Written July 11 - Posted Today

It is 4:45 in the morning and my power is out. I’m drafting this in Word using my battery with the intention of posting it once my wireless goes back on with the power. I know that my blog has been uncomfortably silent of late. I feel like my life has been a bit out of control. My friend Carla the attorney astrologer says that it’s because Saturn is directly on my Sun, Venus and Pluto (which means it is also directly opposing my Moon – full moon baby you know). All I know is that I feel like I’m running really hard and not getting anywhere. She says I need to buckle down to the most necessary and yet unpleasant tasks. I’m not entirely sure when this is supposed to happen. Somehow, more than usual, there are not enough hours in my day lately.

Well I’ll be damned!!! I’m sitting here in my living room amongst the chaos (more on that) at 5 in the morning and I keep hearing this weird noise. Initially I think nothing of it, but after a bit it starts to creep me out. Do we have mice again? Crap. But, could it be? No way. But maybe…

It is. It’s our hermit crab. He went into molt months ago (early April maybe?) and never came out. I know molt can take a while, but we were pretty sure he was dead. It was just a matter of time until I faced cleaning out his cage and deciding what to do with his stuff (and his wee carcass). Yet here he is, clacking around his little glass cage. I immediately filled his food and water bowls. I’d hate to witness his resurrection only to have him die of dehydration.

There’s a lesson in here somewhere. But it’s now 5:07 am and I’m not sure what it is. I do know that I have to deal with my house. We started the long and involved process of painting our kitchen a couple of weeks ago and everything that was in there is now everywhere else. Gotta clear my house so I can clear my head.

Practicing What I Preach

I have now been in my new office for one week and a busy one at that. The interesting thing is that I've had so many clients this week and all of them are having fabulous, mind-blowing, pattern-changing sessions. Is it the feng shui? The green walls? Or is it me?

I know that I've been different in the new office. I'm not sure if it's the new-ness of the space, but I am finding myself being extra mindful and extra present. There are more and different ambient sounds at this new space and I know that I've been working harder to be completely present. My intention being that by creating this complete sense of being present that all potential distractions fail to become part of our experience. This appears to be a very fine example Healing Presence in practice. It's not that I wasn't using it before, every day with every client. I just don't know if I was doing so with the kind of consistency I am now.

I've also been exploring an understanding of the sacredness of our relationship - my client and I. Not in some sort of esoteric, "I feel the presence of the divine" kind of way, but in a really - dare I say it - PRACTICAL way. I know that is the right word, but I'm not exactly sure how that is. It's not that I don't have transcendent experiences in the work because I do. It's more a recognition that the sacred need not be transcendent to be real.

Then again, maybe it's just the new wall color.

Hi Honey; I'm Home

I have returned from a trip at the behest of a kind and generous friend from Arizona. We spent part of our time at a resort and spa in Sedona located in an amazing red rock canyon. Yes, I did make some enso paintings; I even drew some in the red earth of the canyon. More on that later.

One morning I headed out to walk the trail running the length of the canyon and was profoundly moved by the rocks above me which felt like great benevolent gods. I tried to take photos, but it was not the best use of my time since my skill and camera were inadequate to the task. Finally, I decided to put the camera away. I realized it was getting in the way of my appreciation of my experience.

This led to an experiential insight. As is true of most insights, the raw material was already there, but my ability to appreciate the truth was stimulated by experience. I was able to understand that equanimity is to be cultivated not only around those things that are difficult or unpleasant, but also in relationship to that which we find pleasurable. This is not to take some sort of monastic or ascetic stance in regards to experiencing enjoyment. The need for equanimity comes in the attachment to that in which we find pleasure. These experiences, too, are fleeting and impermanent and by attaching to them we find ourselves unable to be present in the moment.

Being able to fully grasp the impermanence is something that can only add to the enjoyment of the experience. I have found myself fretting about the fact that my lovely experience will eventually end. Upon reflection, I realize what a waste of that opportunity it was to be concerned about the future such that it removes me from fully experiencing the present. Anthony Bourdain (my TV boyfriend) gave up taking photos years ago since he felt it did not do justice to his experience.

Have you ever found yourself in a place of unspeakable beauty, or experiencing an episode of profound bliss and found yourself grasping at the experience? Please share what that was like. What was it? How did it manifest for you? Where did you feel it in your body? Have you ever found yourself regretting it?

Enso It Goes

The last couple of times I've gotten acupuncture I've had these wonderful experiences where as I'm lying there, I've created paintings in my head. Interestingly, they've all been based on the enso. An enso is basically a circle, drawn/painted with (usually) a single stroke. It is an expression of the moment. It's everything. It's nothing. Very Zen.

My acupuncturist tells me that some of my problems are expressions of frustrated creative energy and these paintings in my head are a good sign. If I don't make good use of this stuff, however, I'll keep having the same problems.

As such, I am going to pack a few of my (now severely depleted) art supplies to take with me on my TRIP to Arizona (the universe will provide, as it turns out) and I'll work on making some stuff. If I make anything worth sharing, I'll post it here on the Blog.

The Big Math Test

I've gotten a lot of positive reaction from people on a particular topic regarding the Healing Presence. It is that changing yourself and your relationship to others and to your circumstances is not just a selfish act of self improvement. It is, in fact, a profound change that you make in the world.
The illustration I use to explain this is fractals. I have been intrigued to discover how few people know about fractals. I guess I'm just a bigger nerd than I thought. A fractal is a pattern that follows certain rules, including:

• It has a fine structure at arbitrarily small scales (even when you zoom in, it has a fine level of detail).
• It is too irregular to be easily described in traditional Euclidean geometric language (it has a very complex and somewhat irregular geometric shape).
• It is self-similar (it shows a similar or recursive pattern on infinitely small or large scale).

Fractals are produced by certain algorithms (a kind of mathematical set of instructions) and these algorithms can be used to predict weather, or allow a computer graphic designer to create realistic landscapes. They are found extensively throughout nature. We can recognize the frost on the windows in the winter, or the shape of sand dunes because they have a fractal nature that allows them to always have their distinctive shape while simultaneously being infinitely variable.

I like to think of the whole of human interaction as a fractal. One of the other things that defines a fractal is that when you make a change in the algorithm, or set of instructions, it must result in a change throughout the entire fractal on every scale. What this means to me is that every time we make a change for the better in ourselves, if it results in a more flowing and healthy interaction with ourselves and our circumstances, we change the larger fractal of human interaction. Making yourself better makes the world a better place.

Cloquet "Rendevous"...Now the Real Work Begins

Well, I'm back from Duluth. Lovely venue, lovely people. About 35 people attended my talk (there were multiple talks going on at the time) which made the room about 4/5 full. I was determined to be prepared so I took my information and arranged, rearranged, outlined, deconstructed, and threw it all up in the air and saw how it hit the ground.

In the long run, I ended up doing what those who know me well knew I would do: I winged it. I wonder, can it really be considered "winging it" if you've put that much time into preparing? There were several things that were good about winging it:

1. It felt much more authentic (have I written much about authenticity?) and that is of key importance to me.
2. It gave people the sense that they had permission to ask questions during the talk.
3. The questions and flexibility of my "open outline" allowed an organic flow that followed the interests of the group.
4. I was less nervous and less likely to get flustered than if I was following a script.

The thing that really helped me was that the night before I was delightfully distracted at the Rendevous, a very "casual" local drinking establishment in Cloquet, MN, in attendance at a celebration for a friend of a friend. Met nice people who expressed interest in my work and asked me good questions, had a couple of extremely reasonably priced cocktails, ate hot dish, and generally get good and relaxed. Which I needed. Badly.

The next day, I was very gratified that after I was done speaking, many people came back to my booth to talk to me, sign my mailing list and ask me "When is your book coming out?". Hmmmm....

The Big AHA!

Today I was speaking with a friend of mine (call her Meg). A couple of weeks ago she was telling me about a problem she was having with her main support staff person. This support person would ask her about her personal life and then make subtle, judgmental disparaging comments.

Meg wanted to keep her support person happy since her own work lives and dies at this woman’s mercy, but she was becoming very upset at the increasingly hurtful situation. She was reaching the end of her rope, and asked me for advice.

After talking through a wide variety of options, I finally suggested that the next time it happened, she say something like, “I know you probably don’t realize this, but when you say things like that it hurts my feelings.” Meg listened to what I had to say and said she appreciated it, and that was the end of it.

A couple of weeks later she called to tell me that she had taken my advice and she was blown away by the results.

The upshot of what happened is that another hurtful exchange took place. Meg says my words came to her head and, in desperation, decided to take my advice. The employee grew very sad and told Meg that she had no idea she was being hurtful, she was very sorry and that she valued their relationship, and would be more considerate.

A couple of minutes later she came to Meg's office and said that when she behaved in this inappropriate way, that it was really about her own pain which she went on to share briefly, candidly, and appropriately. She also said this was not something been able to talk about much before and appreciated the opportunity.

This, ladies and gentlemen, is the Healing Presence in action. I've been looking for a centerpiece for my talk, and I think it just got handed to me. Again, it's about vulnerability and, too some extent, surrender. When we make ourselves vulnerable we give other people permission to be vulnerable, a state necessary for healing.

When Meg shared that story with me, I told her that it made me feel that softness in my heart that allows me to experience compassion for this person I didn't even know. Meg responded that Yes! she felt softening in her heart in relationship to this person as well! That's exactly what it felt like!

You see, we were able to see the assistant's pain and understand what a wounded person she is. But it's about witnessing the pain; there was no attempt to resolve this woman's problem, nor was it necessary to share in or experience it. That's compassion. That's Healing Presence.

Beating it into the ground

My friend Dennis Cass, in preparation for a talk he was preparing for, made the commitment to blog about it multiple times per day. I told him that I supported this; that three posts might be shit, but they may lead to a fourth that is a revelation. I'll try to make my posts relatively interesting, at least to me...

As I draft my outline, I cannot help but think about the video sent to the Ortho-Bionomy® Yahoo Group of Jill Bolte Taylor sharing her experience as a brain scientist having a stroke. She is a powerful speaker. Why because she is funny and she allows it to be personal.

I am using this as a guideline. I have had discussions with many people who agree that my greatest asset is myself. (Note correct word usage -"myself " is hideously misused.) So, me it is.

Fasten Your Seatbelts...

I stated that the goal of this blog is to aid me on my path to embodying the healing presence. Since I am going to have to talk about Cultivating the Healing Presence for an hour in Duluth at the Northwoods Wellness Expo, I thought I'd make use of this forum to support me.

I believe that the challenge that confronts me is making it just one hour. I think I could talk for four hours - or four days, but one hour is a big challenge. How do I hit the highlights; be informative. I don't want the material to seem crammed, irrelevant, incomplete. I know it's considered bad form to dwell on that which you want to avoid, but often it's the only way to define what you would like to achieve. So what do I want? What are the opposites of these descriptives: Useful. Self-contained. Flowing. Complete.

What do I want for my audience? To feel gratified, educated, replete. To see me as a font of wisdom, a master teacher, approachable and entertaining.

No problem.

I have a reputation for being able to pull stuff out at the last minute. To quote my sibling: "For the number of things you can pull out of your ass, it should be a lot bigger." Granted, being able to do this has a lot to do with the fact that I've been cooking on stuff for a while, but I don't want to do it that way this time. So, lots to do. But I feel like I've made progress in defining what I want this thing to look like. Stay tuned.

Your comments and suggestions are always helpful and appreciated.

Sweet Surrender

I was being interviewed the other day by a woman who is in a health coaching program. I swear I am going to hire her to come in and ask me questions every two or three weeks. She's so smart and so inquisitive and asks such good questions. I get so clear and have so many great insights when I talked to her.

We were talking about the use of Ortho-Bionomy® with Irritable Bowel Syndrome. She mentioned the connection between stress and IBS and we began to riff on that. Ortho-Bionomy is very relaxing on a surface level, but I mentioned that the stresses that contribute to IBS tend to be deep-seated issues and that really, the great benefit of this work is that it reaches deep through the surface stresses and down into the deep seated ones that lie beneath many of our pains.

Somehow through this, we got to a place where she said that, in some ways, she envied people of fundamentalist faith because they had access to this ability to have these profound healing experiences and then briefly related a story she'd read about a woman who was able to be rid of her chronic fatigue through Jesus.

The word or concept (I don't remember which) that stood out for me was "surrender". This woman gave herself up to Jesus, but what she really did was let go of any illusion of control or investment in being able to fix her situation. She was willing to let go of her ego, her attachment to her need to fix, and her intention for what and how the outcome of her healing should take place.

This ability to surrender the ego is something I believe to be a core piece of Cultivating the Healing Presence; there is no differentiation between creating that space for yourself or others.

Do you think Jesus took her pain or was it something else? Is it easier to surrender if you have something to symbolically surrender to?

As a sidebar, my tai chi instructor told me that if you strike someone between the eyes (without much force), it causes their body to temporarily freeze up and become disoriented. His teacher called it the "Preacher 's Knockout" - just watch some faith healers to see why (oh, there's one just below the xyphoid process too; you'll see him use this too):

Turn Signals and Aunties

I was driving the other day and experienced an all too familiar event. As I was waiting to make a left turn, a driver in the oncoming traffic lane came to a stop, stared at me, and then eventually made a left turn. All without benefit of her turn signal. No harm, but it pushed my button.

I have a thing about turn signals. They are the most clear and most easily employed methods of communication between people operating large metal and glass objects careering (yes, that is the right word - look it up) through the world. I am completely at a loss as to why someone would fail to take advantage of this effective, and I believe necessary, mode of communication. Why wouldn't you want to? What are you hiding? Are you too lazy to swipe your hand, or are you unable to make the commitment?

Not 24 hours before this most recent cause for eye-rolling, I had a conversation with a friend of mine who was in a bit of a quandary. She has an auntie who, it seems, likes to buy things for her nephews and nieces and their offspring. I say "it seems" because she has poor skills at offering to treat her young relatives and this is the kind of thing that compounds itself as no one wants to stop on anyone's toes, nor presume too much. This leads to all kinds of awkward behaviors and second guessing that leaves everyone feeling a bit out of sorts.

What do these two events have in common? Incomplete communication. How many problems would be solved if people could simply state their needs and preferences? What does this have to do with Healing Presence?

A question: What do you think incomplete communication has to do with Healing Presence? What do you think causes people to participate in incomplete or indirect communication? And, most of all, why don't people use their turn signals?

Semiotics is the Root of All Chakras

Image from www.dancingshakina.com
When I was in graduate school, I had a couple of ridiculously brilliant roommates. One of them became completely obsessed with semiotics in theater. She tried explaining the concepts of semiotics to me, but I quickly found myself over my head.

Fast forward 20 years later (YIKES!) and I am trying to understand semiotics for my own reasons. I still am struggling, but I have a clarity about why I might have a personal need to grasp it. One of my great frustrations in communicating with others about the kind of health care I provide and teach is helping them understand that all systems of healing operate based on metaphor. Chinese medicine, Ayurvedic medicine, and yes, western-AMA-medicine, all have a metaphorical foundation. The problem comes when the metaphorical aspect gets lost. People become overly attached to the symbol, confusing it with the thing itself.

Why do I care? The danger of this literalism is that it leads, almost inevitably, to a kind of dogmatism, and a dogmatic approach is diametrically opposed to the Healing Presence.

We have a saying around here that "the map is not the territory". Investing in the "realness" of any of these metaphors is like gasoline on the flame of the ego. The need to cling to some kind of "fact" or "system" is a way of fooling ourselves into thinking we have more "knowing", more control, than we actually do.

I am so often questioned about the most prevalent and most firmly embraced of any of these symbolic systems - the Chakra system.

Sigh. The chakras. People are always screwing with each others chakras. Do I clear/balance/unblock, spindle, fold or mutilate them? I have to tell you, I don't know how to answer this. It's not like I do; it's not like I don't. It's not as though I'm not familiar with the metaphor; I know the designated locations, colors, correspondences and effects with which they are associated. But I realize, it's all semiotics. I don't know anything, but I know that.

I had an "Aha!" the other day when I realized that the chakras line up with places in the body I've found to be ripe for energetic and physiological logjams. They show up where there are structural transitions and, for whatever reason, these transitional areas tend to be prone to misalignments, divergent patterns, and lack of movement. This is my metaphor. Do I sometimes associate these with the chakras? Yes, sometimes, when it occurs to me. Does it change anything I do? Maybe. It's impossible to know what you'd do if you didn't know something you do know.

Maybe that's semiotics...

Rending the Time/Space Continuum

My sister, a font of things weird and webby, sent me a link from the JC Penney's website. Clicking through, I was confronted by what may be the absolutely weirdest thing I have seen in recent memory.

It has captured my attention all day, but I wonder if my reaction is in some way disproportionate. Granted, there's the profound kitsch factor, and of course the darkly unsettling creepiness of the thing, but that's not what's captured me.

It was the fact that the existence of a Carol Channing ventriloquist doll in the JC Penneys catalog was something directly out of 1965. It is such a real world anachronism that I keep thinking that there must have been a tear in the time/space continuum, just large enough to let this thing slip through. The feeling this has created has left me a bit off-kilter. It's the inverse of the old wrist watch on the soldier in the gladiator movie. The reason it's funny in a movie is because we I'm practicing being with this sense of disorientation and recognizing my attachment to the rules of how things should be, how I expect events to line up with my expectations, and how I respond to having those expectations and assumptions disrupted. It gets particularly interesting when it involves my perception of the linear nature of time.

Anyway, in an attempt to find a nice little Carol Channing clip I found this. Here's the thing in motion. It's not brilliantly clever or entertaining, but it does show that someone actually bought it.

Where I've Been Hiding

I fell victim to influenza - temps in excess of 101 degrees, deeply painful aches, excruciating coughs, asking for death. I was out of commission for over a week. This meant that in addition to feeling like I was playing catch up for days and days, I had to reschedule half of my Ortho-Bionomy® Phase 4 Basic Workshop. I don't know what made this class hard, but it was.

By hard, I don't mean bad - it was full of delightful people who had good, transformational experiences, delightful surroundings and the wonderful opportunity for increased clarity I hope for myself every time I teach. Hard in that at each step it felt like I was going uphill. The flu was only one of the small stumbling blocks. It also felt as if is profoundly important for the class to happen. It was very important for it to happen for the individuals who attended somehow.

When events conspire against you, how do you know when it's right to throw in the towel and when it's important to persevere? What are your signals? What do they look, sound or feel like? How do you know they're reliable? I'd love to hear how everyone's intuition manifests for each person individually. Please share...

Feel The Force

I want to talk about vulnerability.

One of my clients was experiencing a great deal of deeply internalized stress that was manifesting externally in painful physical symptoms. This stress came from a conflict between the need to express an emotional need and life-long patterns about denying these needs. The client didn't know that's what was going on, but I knew because of Obi Wan Kenobi.

You see, I get these ideas in my head when I'm working. Some of them are very literal, but others are quite obviously metaphors. Since they're my metaphors, I sometimes share them whole cloth, other times I distill them down and share them in a more pre-digested form.

In this case, I was struck by the scene from the original Star Wars movie when Obi Wan says to Darth Vader, "If you strike me down, I will become more powerful than you can imagine."

Cut to the chase, I knew it was about the battle over vulnerability. A definition of vulnerability is, "capable of or susceptible to being wounded or hurt." No place in the definition does it mention that one must be or will be hurt, only capable of it. We all have the potential for injury, but stepping into one's capability for wounding actually creates a flexibility, a resilience. Opening the heart and allowing oneself to be open to pain, also allows one to be open to deep connection. It also creates equanimity. Standing in a place of equanimity is standing in place of strength and resilience. Avoiding vulnerability is standing in a place of fear. Fear is never a place of strength

Putting It All Out There

My sister sent me a link to the American Enterprise Institute (yes, I know) to read a diatribe from an Angry White Man. It is actually left me in that weird place where you are simultaneously wanting to go into the dark bowels of Hell to see what exactly they keep down there, and realizing that really, nothing good can come of it.

Anyway, the thing is, in one sentence alone, I found four grammatical/stylistic errors (pretty grievous ones). I mean the phrase "In consequence we have all got used to sentences where puffed-up words like "chairperson" and "humankind" strut and preen..." is so god-awful on so many levels. I stand amazed at the fact that anyone gives this man and space at all.

This just shows me that passion counts for much. I participate in a networking community/blog by Dennis Cass, author and cool guy. In Dennis' blog (or social network), he brings up a lot of great points for discussion about what is awesome, how to be awesome, and knowing you're awesome even when you're dismissed by others.

I was sure that I had read something about the importance of passion in creating your "calling card", that thing that sets you apart and introduces you to the world. (Oddly enough, I couldn't find this thing that I thought I read when I went back to quote it.) Anyway, I find that when I collect loose data and let it float around my sub/unconscious (I am always a little shaky on where that line is - maybe Dennis' book will tell me!), the pieces that match eventually click. The combination of these two pieces of data (the power of passion and Idiot Rant Boy being the two) has really given me a powerful understanding about how to approach writing and speaking about my work.

I DO care passionately about it, yet I've backed way off to the place of Clinical and Clear. Clarity is good (and I am a big fan of concise too, by the way) but I am contemplating how it can also be injected with Big Words (I intend that not to mean polysyllabic, but to mean words with lots of oomph! and large connotations). The polysyllabic thing is a trap I fall into when I'm teaching. I love these words because they can encompass so much or be so needle-precise, thereby allowing me to be concise (there it is again). I am finding that it can really distance people, however, from something that should connect with them on a gut level.

So, passion it is. I am always looking for a new and better "elevator speech" - the 45 second answer to the question, "What do you do?" That seems like a good place to start with experimenting with using words that express my passion for my work and beliefs.

Hang Ten

There I am at the checkout line at my local SuperTarget (which did NOT have everything I needed), finding my attempts at conversation with the surly checkout girl being rebuffed. Tucked in with the gum, People magazines, batteries, and other impulse items is, oddly enough, a new Eckhart Tolle book! It is apparently the the Oprah Book Club book. I flip it over to read the blurb on the back and it describes the book as being about "how transcending our ego-based state of consciousness is not only essential to personal happiness, but also the key to ending conflict and suffering throughout the world."

I tossed it onto the stack of light bulbs, apples, and the new hairdryer (replacing the one which caught fire this morning).

I am hoping I am catching the crest of this wave, not about to be swamped by it as "old news".

What ARE You Talking About?

I've built an entire blog around this thing I call the Healing Presence, but what is it?

The foundation of Healing Presence is that the compassionate presence is a positive act of healing.

And that means what, exactly?

In my work, I have experienced the power that comes when I am entirely present with another. This total presence means that I hold no expectation, intent or attachment to the outcome of our interaction.

This accommodates the development of a place of compassion and equanimity for the other, creating a nurturing space for that person to process and heal at the rate and manner that fits their preference and need.

The amazing and beautiful thing about the Healing Presence is that it creates an experience where both parties are fed by the interaction. I am so energized by my work. I am often asked if I need to "cleanse my energy" or if I feel drained by my work, but if I'm doing it right there should be no reason for a sense of burn-out and toxicity.

It doesn't mean that I'm never tired at the end of a long day, but I'm not perfect, and it takes some effort to remain that present and attentive, not to mention the fact that each session is unique and I am constantly drawing on all my resources to provide the best possible set of techniques and abilities to respond appropriately to the individual.

To me, the most important aspect of Healing Presence I can share with others directly confronts the furtive, surreptitious dangers of the ego and of investment in the end result of our interactions with others. This is the place where Healing Presence can be eroded most inconspicuously and most dangerously.

I am blown away by how profound, powerful, important and subversive this information is. I firmly believe that it is incredibly necessary.

What about this concept appeals to you? What venues or circumstances do you think this information would be useful in?

Wabi Sabi

In the last week and a half I taught 3 different classes. I have no idea what I was thinking when I planned it that way. This past weekend I taught two one-day classes, neither of which anyone had every taught before. There was no template for these classes, not even a guarantee that the information was going to fall together in a way that made sense, was useful or even worthwhile.

Turned out, they were well thought-out, insightful, logical, and infinitely useful. I walked away Sunday night knowing that I'm really good at my job, and I want to do it a lot more.

I find myself trying to think of things to teach, places to teach them. What was very obvious to me during this weekend's classes is that there is a great deal of desire and need for the Healing Presence work.

Sunday's class was a Practitioner Study Group where I brought out a group of seemingly unrelated concepts that I have had influence my understanding and practice of Ortho-Bionomy. My intent was to introduce these divergent concepts was to inspire others to being open to influences from other places in their lives. They included such things as Newtonian laws of motion, the movie "Cold Comfort Farm", and fractals.

Healing Presence concepts crept into everything I teach, but when they really came to the forefront when I wandered into Japanese aesthetics, specifically Wabi Sabi. Given the fact that both Wabi Sabi and HP have their roots in Buddhism, I guess this is really no surprise. Wabi Sabi is an aesthetic appreciation of the transient nature of things. It is an understanding that as soon as things come into being they begin to decay, and that there is need for the appreciation for the marks left by living.

I believe that by entering into a relationship with an old or chronic injury with an appreciation for the wabi sabi nature of it, it responds more readily than when it is approached in an adversarial manner. Consider that the next time you think of your "bad" hip or your "trick" knee.

I Want What You Have

The bones of the Healing Presence work have been forming for years before I even knew what they were. Last year the whole thing came together in a way that made me feel that there was enough information that had gelled into something tangible that I could start teaching it.

It was really hard.

I did put together a really great, smart, enthusiastic group of people. "Companions of Destiny" my friend Lori Palm would call them. They were great. They really challenged me and my information. I think they got something out of it; at least, I'm pretty sure they did. But the end result was that I realized how much more there was to do. I needed a break, but I wasn't letting this go. It was too important.

I was in a class this fall where one of the (very many) things we did over 3 days was sent intentions for the next 90 days. We worked on it, off and on, for all three days and I realized what an art there is to crafting a useful, effective intention for oneself. It's a distillation process which means reduction and concentration of ideas. I think the tendency is to build, add on to, and complicate our intentions as we attempt to make them more specific.

Anyway, my intention was to "embody the Healing Presence" at the end of 90 days. Not a traditional intention, I know. Not very specific, not customarily measurable. But it happened. How do I know? Well, partly I just knew. But I didn't know for sure that I knew until two brand-new clients showed up within 10 days of each other. After their first 2 appointments both of them said to me, "I want what you have. I want you to mentor me in how to be like you; how to have the kind of presence (yes, they said presence) you have."

These wonderful people are my gift. The one-on-one style, the conversational form of sharing this information has allowed me to develop a personal relationship with the material that is profound. I can, even more, embody this information. More importantly, I am distilling, clarifying the info so that it can be better shared with others.

Getting to Know You...

"Why," I ask myself, "would you want to start a blog?"
I certainly don't need more to do. And yet, the busier I am the more it seems I get done.

What I do know, is that the development and sharing of this stuff I am calling Cultivating the Healing Presence is the most important thing I am going to do. Maybe ever. And having a place to talk it out, think out loud, and get a little feedback along the way is going to move this process along more effectively, more efficiently, and maybe more pleasantly.

What is shocking to me is how miraculous, simple, breathtaking and seditious it all is. I am completely intimidated by profound enormity and the utter obviousness of the whole thing.

Today I held another Ortho-Bionomy self-care class. No matter how many Ortho-Bionomy classes I teach, I will always be astounded by how cool it is. Watching my students discover how profound, effective, and simple it all is leaves me breathless.

Watching as they see how the way we've always been told things have to be diverge with they way they can be gives me a fiendish hope for the future.