Monday, July 10, 2017

Good Medical Attention(?)

I have not written in a few weeks. I have not done yoga in 10 days or more. My brother has been in the hospital 2 or 3 weeks now. My anxiety has been extreme. I thought I was just suffering PTSD. I think it's more than that. I bought a ticket to Florida immediately as soon as I got word that he was in intensive care following an emergency surgery. Actually, I didn't know he was in intensive care. I just knew he was in surgery. I had such a bad feeling. I decided this on a very frantic walk: I need to go. And when I got back and picked up my phone, I read that my other sister would fly down the very next day too. I was there two and a half days, and just got back yesterday. Backdrop: He has the same disease as I, and had to have the same major operation as I. Hearing about the complications from afar, with so many questions for the doctor was more than I could handle.
My brother and I at the Salvador Dali museum
Almost ten years ago
As it turns out, they did not complete the first surgery, the colectomy necessary due to hundreds of polyps, as they should have. They did not create the j-pouch because he "had too many blood vessels." Does that sound right to you? Could it be they didn't give themselves enough time - they began the surgery at 11am. Who schedules a major operation so late in the morning? My colectomy at Memorial Sloan Kettering was scheduled so early that it was dark out still when I ran to the hospital to make it in time. And my colectomy (with j-pouch creation) was 8 hours. They operated on my brother 5 hours maybe, and that was it. But they started at 11am and couldn't plan and foresee how long they would need? Had they not done this surgery enough? These were all the questions I was trying to ask my family and brother the night before his surgery: How many times has she done this surgery?

Foolish me. Because I didn't have the courage or heart to put myself out there a 4th time, telling him to keep me in the loop, I hadn't spoken to my half-brother in weeks leading up to the surgery. He has a motorcycle and was busy surfing up until the day before. I had told him from when he called to share the diagnosis that I would help in any way that I could, that this is a very complicated surgery, that if it's not done right it could really screw you up. He didn't hear me. I had asked for the results from a scope and he had never sent them or made contact. I knew he was under lots of stress and things in his personal life. I let it go, because, I thought, I can't force myself and my knowledge on him. I tried to share my concerns with others in the family. A friend of mine even left a voicemail on my brother's cell advising that he talk with his older sister - she has a lot of experience with this. It didn't get through. Then, the night before his surgery, I texted him to wish him well. Then, I learned some very unsettling things. For instance, his surgeon's name, a general surgeon (who has published a paper on colorectal matters, I learned, from my peripheral, frenzied google search. I was desperate for something better for him).

As I had told my brother, I've done the research, heard horrendous stories of complications that affect the rest of your life, and had gone through this - I had had complications and ER visits and long stays in the hospital from such a massive, massive operation. I'm disability now because my system has not calmed down to more normal.

Some comparitive facts: They took out my entire colon. They cut me 8 inches, from above belly button to top of my you know. My brother's colectomy almost 3 weeks ago was done through two small holes on either side of abdomen?

Now this: They didn't create the j-pouch like they were supposed to, so a third surgery was added to his course. They did not do what they said they were going to do.

But then now he just had an emergency surgery - a second major, now emergency, operation in two weeks - last week where he was finally cut 8 inches or so. Why? It dawned on my at 11pm last night: Because he was dying. He had two small holes in his small intestine. He could have gone septic and died. How did the holes get there?

My good friend remembers my surgeon saying to them during my surgery that they had to very careful with my small intestine as they could potentially rupture it. It sounds to me like the general surgeon didn't know what she was doing. When I got the surgeon's name (too late), I was devastated. Even though this was not my decision, I felt either responsible or like screaming. I did not see the one word I was looking for next to it: specialist. But this surgery will affect the rest of his life! I screamed via a small group text. I had been thinking and wishing and asking that he go to Moffitt where my father was worked on and where there is a cancer center - like the hospital I was at - with experts. It made no difference, to no one's fault. I just wasn't in the loop that my brother was deciding from. I don't think anyone really knew the difference between a children's hospital and major cancer center. And besides, I was told, Moffit Cancer Center recommends people younger than 21 to go to All Children's.

"God's got me" was my 18 year old brother's response when I voiced my concerns over the surgeons' experience with this surgery. How many surgeries like this has this doctor done? Lots, was the answer. But I was trying to get a number that I could conceptually compare to the specialists I had interviewed: one at Albany Med and one at MSK. I myself had gone with the one who radiated extraordinary confidence. His response that his patients do not have complications seemed incredible to me. I believed him.

The surgeon seemed nice, my half-brother texted back. Perhaps that was how he had reassured himself, in his young mind. I tried to say what I could, and of course said that I would pray as he had asked me.

Despite his naivety, he is suffering so bravely for a young man so much. He is. I can't say enough and I feel for him - so bad. He is showing amazing strength, courage, and bigger picture mentality. But he is still a child. He doesn't listen to doctor's orders. He has had some of us family members give him a sip when his drink restriction wasn't lifted after even a few days.

I did cuz I couldn't take it - and I reasoned that it was a great sign that they had just taken the NG tube out in front of my eyes. That was improvement. I thought I knew better than their doctors because I have brain and because I was in Memorial Sloan Kettering seeing my expert world-leading surgeon often and getting to ask him questions and hear him as he taught the residents using my body as an example. Because what I was used to seeing on my at one of the world's top cancer center was not what I was seeing for my brother in a children's hospital in Florida. I thought they were going through too many precautions in letting him have water (let the record show, yes, he has been on IV and nutrition pic). They weren't letting him water day 2, they told me, because they were measuring his output and it was too much. Well that problem is since resolved since they took the NG tube out - but day 6 is it : and still he has no water.

I had asked if all the output they had been measuring was from the ostomy and the NG tube - and she said yes. And I said well how often do you do this kind of surgery where the patient comes out with an NG tube - perhaps it is that the NG tube is there and so the green stomach bile that is going out to ostomy but up through NG tube, maybe that is because the NG tube is there (when it shouldn't still be - he had it in for 4 days). And her answer, the resident doctor of the intensive care floor (and thus not a representative of the surgical team) said, was that gravity wouldn't let that happen. Oh, and I told her, my brother has been sneaking drinks all day yesterday and he is ok and wouldn't that have affected his output? And she said perhaps. And then when I asked for reassurance that then maybe soon he would have water, she lied and said yes.

So here's the giveaway that they cut my brother in the first surgery, in my opinion: two weeks prior to the emergency surgery (where he was dying, but they won't say that, right), he had had a colectomy. That's the backdrop.  So, while I was there the other day, this resident doctor was attentively answering all my questions. She offered to show me his x-rays. The one she showed me was from just before his emergency surgery. She showed us how there was black space at the top of the abdominal cavity, which was a black fuzzy horizontal line curving upwards in the middle. That was the top of the cavity, so they could tell air was in there. Then there were black half circles where the top of tunnels, must be the small intestine, were black too with air. I asked questions that led to her showing us the x-ray prior to that on the previous day. She said that it seemed most likely - although it could be from the surgery we did two weeks ago - that the perforations in his small intestine happened in that space of 24 hours. Well, it took me traveling back home after my short visit down there to realize as I went to bed feeling reassured to realize the truth. The previous x-rays were all done with him on his back. Someone else in the family had even asked if we had missed something as the family getting him in and how long he was suffering. Someone else in the family had asked why, the morning x-ray the day of his emergency surgery (two weeks after colectomy), why was that x-ray clear and showing no issues? The reason, the resident doctor in intensive care told me, was because someone thought to x-ray him sitting up. Because he was sitting up they could see the air. Well, gee that isn't really reassuring then - because he was never sat up before either. He was throwing up way more than I had in the hospital. Way, way way more.

And now he is like day 6 and still can't drink water - now not because of sodium levels, which they adjusted intravenously, but because the small intestine could perforate again. In a different place. Why? Because anyone who has had an abdominal surgery is more at danger of perforated intestine. Well, I don't have one and I have had three major abdominal surgeries in 2016. And isn't that a coincidence that you had just pulled out his intestines laparoscopically via two small holes in his abdomen two weeks ago? But she is reassuring me that he only went septic, like shit flowing into his abdominal cavity for a day, for one day. Her support? the x-rays. When the truth is, he was throwing up like crazy for days on end in this recovery and the whole time is bile and then eventually some food was flowing like poison into his abdominal cavity. Are you kidding me?
My brother and I when I was visiting in February,
right around the time of his genetic test.

I couldn't sleep last night. I had flown down to Florida the day after I heard of the emergency surgery. I couldn't possibly stay in NY. I was having physiological anxiety attacks. So I flew down, asked my questions, seemed relieved, flew home, and realized the big "hole" in the fucking story. See, the doctors aren't going to admit - even to themselves - that they nicked his small intestine. So, why in the hell should my brother have the next surgery - the part they didn't complete as scheduled in first surgery - where they, the inept, create the j-pouch that needs to function - and perfectly - for the rest of his long life??? I called my family members and discussed this, and as I went down the chain my conviction was stronger. The most important family member told me I opened their eyes, and that they felt something was wrong too. I learned that everyone feels it too. I told my dad, call Moffitt. You gotta get the specialist. The same thing I was saying to my family just before his surgery when I got the name of the surgeon and googled her. No.

And no, it remains. God, help us to help save my brother's body and life. Now, before it's too late. Family is getting on board, as they have a feeling something may be wrong too. So, the question is: Do we let them do his j-pouch creation? How many has this children's hospital surgeon done?  I went with the guy who only does these kinds of surgeries. You want the guy who has done a lot of them because of all the issues that could arise. And we have already seen some.

My father and I would listen to this song as we drove over the Saint Petersburg bridge to the hospital.

Friday, June 16, 2017

Yoga Off the Mat: Why, Charlie Brown, Why?

"Don't take it too hard. I've done a lot of stupid things in my life too" -Charlie Brown


Charlie Brown needs yoga. Lately, yoga "off the mat" seems more challenging. That might mean that there is something off-balance, emotionally speaking. We all need to check in from time to time. We all have bad news from time to time, so how do we deal with it?

Yoga, meditation, going for a drive, a walk, playing an instrument. We need a filter in this life, so that we don't get so many grounds with the coffee in our cup. What do you do to check in with your body and mind? And equally important, is it working? Lord knows everyone needs to zen out a bit more....

"My life has no direction, no aim, no meaning. And yet I'm happy. I can't figure it out. What am I doing right?"

Stretching the sides of your body. Moving the spine in its 5 directions, increasing flexibility and balance. Bending over to reach your toes. "Good grief!" You may say. What trouble! But this is the beauty of yoga, Charlie Brown. This is the beauty of making time for you. There are a lot of reasons to stretch and do yoga. For example, 1. Life asks us to be flexible, 2. Life asks us to recover 3. If you have tightness, you can take time, relax and breathe into it - and suddenly, you're not thinking about stupid stressors 4. It just feels good. Being conscious of our physical equilibrium can help us stabilize. We have all been weak or tight on one side. And then, the laws of compensation take over, causing more damage. The strong side compensates for the weaker side: Not good. This goes for living off-balanced too. Daily life involves every aspect of our being, even parts we are ignoring or shutting off. My recent hope and revelation: Balance on the mat can help with balance off the mat.

When facing some big decisions, a deliberate increase in physical activity / time on the mat gives the grounding we need to take some steps. When I was having a discouraging moment in my PhD process, I started hiking Stone Mountain 3x/week by myself. Seeing the sunset at the top gave me the oomph I needed to re-engage my commitment, and to be happy about it rather than discouraged with where I was at. It sounds trivial, but I promise it was fundamental to my wellbeing, and my wellbeing was fundamental to doing my best work and finishing the dissertation.
Charlie Brown, you need to relax!

Being there in your body, getting in tune,
releasing tension,
working those muscles, relaxing them
reaching through the toes, the fingers, ...breathing

Santosha: contentment

Yoga helps train our mind - and our body. When I think of the fact that behind this practice lies a beautiful, long, ancient Indian tradition built by devotees, then comes: respect, awe, wisdom. This peaceful tradition makes me (and you) want to respect the tradition's tenets and discover more the ethics of yoga, the yamas and niyamas (see my previous post). They are the gateway through which we connect deeper with the tradition that supports our yoga on (and off) the mat. 

Reading sacred texts
Scanning the body too

Listen to the body. We can listen to the silence through this movement, take air and light in through our senses - especially outdoors. The mind is calmed in this pose that enables us to breathe in a different way. Reading our body can help us address and cure any psychosomatic issues that may arise (psychosomatic issues: manifestations of physical imbalance in which emotional components have a strong part [source]). We can clear our body of negative energy, and our mind too. We are not empty-headed yogis: We are clearer-minded seekers.

Just as we wish both sides of our body to be balanced, strong, and as structurally supportive as possible, we also wish our mind to find balance. I know I do. Perhaps it is in yoga that one can witness the balance that one does in fact have - if we've been practicing awhile or if we've been keeping in tune other ways (running, dancing, walking, what have you). Physically, there it is. It's easy to see when you're doing balance and strength poses  that the right side & the left side can do about the same thing, though they may feel slightly different. Does encouraging our physical balance make us feel stronger or simply be stronger in life? Perhaps so. Some of us need that - and are happy to have yoga as that oil that helps make the engine run.


Test: Hold tree pose on each side, breathing deeply for a few moments, and see how you feel after. Or sit comfortably and breathe in slowly through one nostril and slowly out through the other a few times (use finger to close the unused nostril,), and then change sides. Or: Sit and enjoy nature this summer (easy yoga). Breathe.

Clarity may come with a little effort & a little balancing. And harmony and peace of mind-body.

I wish we could all go to bed like that, then awake: And sustain it.

And spread it like pizza dough.
We can try.

Sunday, June 4, 2017

Feet, Wonderful Roots of the Body

The Pope washes the feet of Muslim refugees, a beautiful message for today's world. 

Pope Francis washes the feet of 12 young offenders
at a detention centre in Rome

Symbolically, the feet already have great meaning in the Judeo-Christian world. But do we pay attention to our feet? They can't just be the donkey of the body, can they?

If you want deeper understanding of the body during yoga, and of your body in daily everyday motions of life by extension, study the importance of the feet. How well are we appreciating all the weight that they hold up, all the balancing, all the weight they carry?

Look at your toes; wiggle them. Those two middle toes after the big toe are connected to the eyes. The little ones on the side, they are connected to the ears. This ain't no revelation I had -- it's what I read in a cool book that reprinted ancient ritual symbols of the bottoms of the feet. In one diagram, various hills and valleys of the foot were marked with a six-pointed star, a swastika (a symbol from the ancient world before Hitler abused it), a temple. In a foot reflexology diagram, we see how each part of the foot connects to an organ or part of the spine. The author of this modern compilation of ancient and new wisdom Yoga of the Subtle BodyTias Little, also gives you exercises to feel how to spread the webbing between your toes, and how to appreciate the different arches in your feet, the different sides of the heel, and how to properly stand in mountain pose, for example: by engaging the lift in the arch, by pressing into the four corners of the foot - and he tells you where those four corners are - you can engage pada bandha (click on link for more on the bandhas).

This chapter on the feet does good: It's like becoming more aware of your blessed feet as you read, wanted to give them more attention and exercise in your next yoga session. You read that your toes are like the roots of a lotus flower or a tree that sip up the water, and somewhere higher in your foot is where the stream of chi energy that you're taking in becomes like a river, then gushing to knees to be redistributed via nadis to the various organs and parts of your whole entire body. Prana everywhere. The feet are how we ground ourselves to the earth, its magnetic vibe - it's basically how we stand stable. In activating them, we activate a whole current of energy, as Little says that they, along with the hands, are antennas of energy.

or samasthiti
In tadasana, or samasthiti, you can feel your sacred axial line. What a beautiful phrase and thought: there is an axial line in our body, that gives us life. "In tadasana, we stand in the sacred midline of the body. In the meditative arts, the mountain is not limited to a postural stance but suggests the embodiment of wisdom" (27).

Zen master Dogen, founder of the Soto school of Japanese Buddhism in 1240, wrote that mountains  are "the bones and marrow of the Buddha ancestors" and the "realm where all buddhas practice."
Zen master Dogen
And if you think any of that is beautiful, then file this full length movie about Zen master Dogen away for later. (Bookmarking for myself too)

The feet. Mounds of hills and crevices, like another planet, storing the connections of our body to pressure points on our feet. Pressure points that Eastern arts know better than Westerners. But it's available, out there to pay for if you want. If I knew that any local acupuncturist was the best, knowing what the ancients knew, I'd go to him for sure. And even if he knows some...

Then, this blew my mind: "The feet help orient to a sacred axis through the temple of the body a pillar of self-organizing radiant vitality, revered in hatha yoga as the primary pathway for the movement of the deepest life-force (kundalini) Contemporary physiological renderings of this central axis involve the spine, spinal cord, and brain-that is, the central nervous system-yet we can imagine the central axis beginning in the inner foot." (29). A pillar of self-organizing radiant vitality, so perfectly said. I stopped and reread that a few times over my morning tea yesterday at Daylight Donuts (where you heard the old guys catcalling each other as they walked in and saw the whole group: "Rocky babyyyyyy!").

Our body has a pillar to conduct energy for our very life, breath, vitality - thus PRANA, what we work so hard for, and need to relax into and make time for, in yoga. That it why it is so important to take care of the spine and not lose flexibility. Vitality. That is why we breathe, and do yoga, and let the pose serve the breath, and let the breath help us extend along our axials... we are preserving and honoring our vitality, connecting to it, hoping to have some leftover connection and light to give to others who we meet with a smile, or peaceful nod. Recognition that we are all a body and soul, a breath.

So amazing. The feet.

Now I know why my Ballet teachers would say "Lift those arches!" and study our arches to see who had the highest one in class. Pulling up the arch, not letting it collapse, affects the gait and alignment and centering (or off-centering) of our whole body. Its amazing, when we really look at the interconnectedness of the body. And by extension, of the world.

Tuesday, May 23, 2017

How Wonderwoman Made Me Feel Vulnerable (for a sec)

So, I was thinking the other day: are we all just crazy chameleons? Walking around doing as we do?

Society, pfft. French philosopher Jean-Jacques Rousseau looked down on you, especially at the end of his life. Paranoiac, perhaps. He became so disenchanted in old age with society. In his last and unfinished book, Reveries du promeneur solitaire, he reflects and says that our states of being are always in continual flux. (Now add to that the looks/judgements of others.... isn't that society?).

And of happiness, Rousseau made this point: Everything is in continual flux on this earth: Nothing maintains a consistent form, and our affections which attach to exterior things are just as changing as those objects. So yea, I think it's right: we are all just crazy chameleons. Rousseau may be right: we only have pleasures which pass. As for enduring happiness, he doubts that it can be known here on earth. He writes: Hardly is there an instant in one of our most amazing pleasurable moments that the heart can truly say "I hope that this moment lasts forever." He goes on to ask: How can one call happiness a temporary, fleeting state which in fact leaves our heart anxious and empty, and either makes us miss or regret something that came before, or desire something that would follow after?

We already kinda know we're going to die... And as Woody Allen likes to say, Life is how we live with the ways in which we distort the reality of that fact.
Jewish cemetery in Prague.

What is the ole adage? O yes...
"It is what it is."

In other (perhaps more positive) news, a strange thing happened today: Wonderwoman made me feel vulnerable, and I'm not quite sure how it happened. First, I was shopping at Target and throwing a retro sports bra of her face in the basket (you know how that goes at Target... flinging into the cart stuff you don't need), next I am trying it right on at home and to my surprise it looks kinda cute and I won't have to return it, and then I'm taking a selfie with my wonderwoman sports bra, smile, and stomach scars in a pic. Then, I'm texting a friend goin' "She may be wonderwoman but she doesn't have my scars." And then I do yoga, and I feel my body still need healing from all it has been through, and I start getting down on myself, somehow, about my disability situation and the rut I feel it has thrown me into: the indecision, the uncertainty, the lack of real improvement.

And then I think of my scars and I start to feel proud again. Wonderwoman? She's just a face. I mean, she may be real to some, but it's besides the point: I know deep down that I'm a real wonderwoman. So vulnerability because of disability? Yea, sure, I got that. Today was the first day that I let myself kinda complain to myself. And I thought: oh no, I must confess this, because I can't let my gratitude lessen. My sheer gratitude helped me see the amazing positive of my disability - because I am still ALIVE because of those operations - duh! How could I get down on myself and this condition? 

Well, you can't keep me down in my self-image - cuz I have the scars. They are evidence of my strength and of the love that went into me. The love of God and the love of my parents and friends and family who prayed for me. I might need a picture to see them so that I can recognize what I have been through. I might need to still crawl out of my trauma, but I'm letting go with every pigeon and tree pose - and in many other moments in yoga. I'm letting go. I'm feeling myself as strong as ever. And I remember, hey, I saw a some strong abdominal type people in the Colondar magazine, showing not only their scars like mine, but also their in-shape-ness. There is something about being sick and weak and down at the pit of earth when you're getting out of a total colectomy - and all that ensues after it.... So yea, it's no wonder that some people want to get in tune with their body and feel stronger through their body by embracing their relationship with it, this wonderful body, conductor of... Life.

Getting in child's pose, almost a fetal position, made me feel better today. No coincidence in that, I realized afterwards. I stayed their a while, forehead to the mat.

Thanks for listening.

Yoga helps us be a self in awakening.

Monday, May 22, 2017

Tree Pose: Running to Stand Still

The Art Institute of Chicago has an amazing, zenlike garden adjacent to it
Balancing in tree pose for some time last night, it seemed all at once that I achieved a new level of breath. The obvious tension of recent stresses vanished and I felt clear all of a sudden. I felt my breath achieve a place where it became deep, like a well of fresh water. The breath was so long and free and deep that it almost felt as if my body was drinking it. My arms rose like the branches of green that I admired out there in front of me as the vital life force of prana within was finding echo in the woods around me, with the birds singing in the cooling evening air. The wind carried the leaves gently side to side. I looked out at all these trees, peaceful bastions of the earth from which they grow, and I felt myself thinking about their lucky lot in life: trees get to stand still. Very unlike us, no?, we who flutter here and there and try to construct a life via job, friends, activities, duties.

Piedmont Park, Atlanta. Skeletons of trees,
veins and arteries ascending toward a painted sky above
It is always a matter of time and of intention, the time we give ourselves to stand still, to root down in order to lift up, to be tranquil amongst nature, and to enjoy the utter pause. In this place, we need not give attention to the self, but be low like water. 

The leaves are not pretending to be.

Greek columns in Paestum Southern Italy have withstood il tempo (in Italian, tempo means both time and weather).
They are like trees, erect yet fragile.
The notion of trees standing still while we run about collecting and depositing and throwing out.... reminds me of the U2 song: Running to Stand Still. Cuz isn't that we do at some times in our lives? We do so much in order to just be. (Alas, Joshua Tree, one of U2's best albums ever).

The body as a tree is one of the oldest analogies in the yoga tradition, according to Tias Little. He reminds us of the feet as tree roots: "The toes and feet nourish the body in the same way that the roots of a tree draw water, nutrients, and minerals out of the ground in order to support the vitality of the trunk, branches, and leaves. In turn, the spine supports the growth of the arms and hands like a tree trunk supports the branches and leaves. Ultimately the roots of the feet help metabolize prana by remotely providing support to fine twiglike structures within the lungs (bronchioles) together with their alveoli leaf clusters." from Yoga of the Subtle Body. One can even go deeper with this metaphor, and consider the tree a metaphor of the soul. I always think of this when I see two tree growing together... it is as if they have found their soulmate, and I am happy for them because they are obviously committed. Rooted together, reaching for the sun together, drinking water together, weathering the storms and years together.

Flowers in Sicily in Summer
My commitment as I move forward with my practice is to remember to hold tree pose longer than usual, more intentionally, and more often.

With this, a poem that I published in 2011 in a review online, Ishaan literary review, which is no longer in publication I recently discovered (darn). Thank goodness I still have the poem; in it I buried memories and images, nature and childhood.

Thoughts from a hammock
Studying under the shade of a tree in Paestum

There is a hammock that floats in a wheat field bordered by berries
Godlike design seems to play upon the wind that scurries about

I bend my ear
As I lift rocks for facts and reflection

The wind carries moments of my childhood
It is like an attic that I crawled through with pride

Shining jewels embedded in my imagination
Despite the winding tunnels of the past

In my grandparents’ house
I learned masculinity and age through my grandfather’s cough

Oh! Everyone was tough and sweet
The finest you could meet

When I tried to uncover their mysteries
Those silly whispering voices grew silent

As I reached for the dangling fruit
I felt curiosity and a stronger appetite

My head is now too replete with sugar and summer
Fresh like a cold mountain creek

Afraid of serpents hiding in the green plants
I suddenly realize that the carpeted forest floor does not reveal its paths

I walk with a stick in my hand
And wonder how to welcome old wisdom and deeper love

I think about reflecting on the stars I used to go to
I think about loving all who once loved me

I want to love the world in a person
Or in a tree, it is all the same to me

Love asks for my hand
I hold fast and run toward the forest’s edge

There I will have a playmate
To examine with me its treasures

Secret are the forces of the sky that cushion the trees
And the murmuring creek that bathes their roots is no different

Bubbles are blown from the mouths of children
And kisses are all we have to cling to as adults

I whisper and I sigh as I laugh with my love
He is as green as my favorite springtime

And that is why I am like a bumblebee
Making honey for our tea

Crushed flowers are like an elixir
When mixed with the fluid of our bodies

My love flows before me
Both as himself and as my desire

My affection is tied to this spot
To which I return for restoration and speech

I would like a bed of grass like jade to pillow me
In peaceful slumber and waking glories

Yes, I think it would be nice to be awake
So I might hear God when he asks for me

But first, I would like for some spirit to father me
Like a real person might have done

I would like to trust a man
Like I trusted in storybooks when I was little

And finally, I would like to contemplate the wonders of nature
In quiet gratitude and strength

From the breath of creation I borrow sustenance
And in magnificent trees my heart grows feathers

Yes and once, my heart took flight
Unto the setting of the night


More on Prana...
Prana moves along the spine, via three major channels, called nadi (see diagram to left). It is worthwhile to look into pranayama, which is the practice of bring prana into the organs and all the areas of the body. This blurb, from a wonderful article, is just the tip of the iceberg: "According to yoga, tantra and the science of kundalini, prana is supposed to originate in pingala nadi. Within the framework of the spinal cord, there are three channels known as nadis in yoga. One is called ida, another is pingala and the third is sushumna. Ida nadi represents the mental energy, pingala represents prana or pranic energy and sushumna represents spirit or spiritual awareness. These three nadis originate in mooladhara chakra, which is situated at the perineum or cervix. Pingala nadi flows to the right from mooladhara and continues to cross ida at each chakra all the way up to ajna. [....]
Prana is not merely a philosophical concept; it is in every sense a physical substance. Just as radioactive or electromagnetic waves exist even though we can't see them, in the same way, in this physical body, there are pranic waves and a pranic field. Now, each of us has a certain quantity of prana in our physical body and we utilize this in the course of our day to day activities throughout life. When our prana diminishes, sickness sets in, and when we have plenty of prana, every part of the body is in perfect health. If we have an excess of prana, it can be transmitted to others for healing or magnetism."

Thursday, May 11, 2017

Glad to Be Home

 Mom got tix for her 60th birthday - this was on front of the card.
"Is that Rod's rod?" her and her friends all examined...
I love the outfit.

So, it's Julien's naptime and I am happily out in the sun, on my mat, taking a break to write, so that yea, I don't get all my thoughts simply stuck in my head. Sometimes it is good to share what you're thinking -- even if it's just for you, for a later date. Or just to reflect from inside the head to the world via a computer screen. And here it is, that which I was just thinking as I breathed and folded and planked: there's something about doing yoga out on a deck on a beautiful Adirondack May morning, with spring greening all around you. The sun is not quite directly above you but it is there down at an angle, and just above the trees on the hillside you live near. And then you think, hey, isn't it nice to live back home again. I lived in Florida and Atlanta for 10 years plus, Illinois 4 years, and Utica 3-4 years with summers always somewhere in Florida or back home in the 518. I was forced by academia to go off to two towns that offered me something very different from what I was used to - either a city or a hilly, mountainous zone: what to me meant home, friends & family. So, isn't it nice that even though I had to get sick and go through a lot to get back home, here I am.
Question: Is it still yoga if you don't do a sun salutation?
Answer: yes
Recommendation: But do them toward the sun and whenever you want to.
Happiness restored. Body and mind join in peace.

Forgive the finger blur - I thought it added a dash of color to the composition

Monday, April 24, 2017

A Trans Bodhisaatva: Representations of Mercy

This week marks the one-year anniversary of my life-changing surgery. It is very interesting to relive memories, since it was this time of year that my whole world was turning.

Today, I see Spring budding all around me - especially as of yesterday, and I remember that I was in the hospital in New York City for two weeks, unable to see my baby, and unable to see Spring bloom. When I came out of the hospital, it was like I had escaped Vietnam, and everything was green with new hints of pinks, whites, and spring yellows from the transformation that the world had taken on, seemingly without me, while I underwent my own transformative experience indoors on the 15th floor of Memorial Sloan Kettering.

A few days ago, to commemorate my one year anniversary of my total colectomy last April 19, I found myself in Troy for a pleasant stroll on an overcast, cold day. There, in an antique store there, I "met," if you will, a bodhisattva I had never heard of before. The statue was in the corner, elevated on a green pillar, brilliantly colored. I fell in love instantly. I did not know who this person was, nor how significant in all of the Asian world he/she is. But research would prove her significance, and give great meaning to "meeting" her there in an antique store on an unintentionally special day in not-far-away-upcoming-old-industrial collar city NY. My appreciation of the statue led me to read up on her and appreciate her: Quan Yin is a basically bodhisattva who has transcended time and space to ease the suffering of those on earth - all because she heard their cries. Her Chinese name refers to this hearing - real hearing - of the anguished. And her decision to go back to earth instead of walking into the eternal bliss she had earned through her life. This is what makes her a bodhisattva. Her name is Quan Yin.

Quan Yin, as she first appeared to me visually
There are many reasons to admire her and relate to her, now that I know of her life journeys and have had my own recent ones. It was a bit like love at first sight. I did not take her home, but I wanted to (we would all be wise to not bring a first date home lol). The next morning at 4am I was unable to sleep and was so inspired reading about her that I got up to meditate before the sun rose. So many coincidences with my recent experience with grace and mercy: she brings compassion and healing to those who suffer illness and she brings baby boys to women. It is almost as if what she incarnates had already touched me this past year. She is known for her deep compassion for the suffering, and her mercy. When you think of mercy and grace, what comes to mind? The symbol of a woman who gave of herself to help those suffering is one that evokes characteristics that both reassure - and inspire. All over the world, we all have our symbols and our reminders of values like mercy and compassion for the suffering and the sick.

There happens to be an intriguing and informative summary of her in Wikipedia, where a list of her names is given, already giving a taste for how she has impacted the world over the centuries. Her name Guan Yin is from the Chinese, and she is known as these names (which are fun to look at):
Guanyin statue on Putuoshan Island, China

Quán Thế Âm

In shortened form of the name, Guan Yin means One Who Sees and Hears the Cry from the Human World. Her Chinese name signifies, "She who always observes or pays attention to sounds," i.e., she who hears prayers.
Nitin Kumar has written a wonderful article
called Kuan Yin, Compassionate Rebel
The Sanskrit name of this bodhisattva is Avalokiteshvara. Brittanica has an entry on Avalokiteshvara (click here) that is fascinating, featuring many links for your rabbit hole reading, and is worth reading at length.

In a way, Quan Yin or Avalokiteshvara is transgender (or perhaps androgynous or without gender), which is cool and reminds us that suffering and mercy is universal and that the Atman itself transcends gender. Brittanica gives this summary of the transformation from the male to the feminine image, with interesting traces of masculinity still remaining in some representations centuries later in the form of a light moustache. Quan Yin or Avalokiteshvara is a "Trans Bodhisattva." Like love itself perhaps, she is transcultural, transtemporal, and transgender.

What symbols of mercy and compassion speak to you?