Tomorrow will mark the sixth week since my return home to San Francisco.  When I look at the weeks in brief, it is busy and a struggle for balance and acceptance like this:

Week 1:  jet lag and a very bad cold that kept me bedridden up to 36 hours per day. Barely responding to the flurry of calls, emails and requests to welcome me home from my loving community.  Spend the waking time during the weekend planning a garden in the backyard and going to the garden centers to buy the supplies.  This followed a conversation I had with Matt wherein I told him that I felt so much peace in the jungle, that I REALLY wanted to return to nature.  He pulled out a financial spreadsheet and showed to me that without me having an income, there's no way to move to a place as nice as the one we're renting.  So, we decided to bring the country into our fallow backyard. 

Week 2:  Taxes, scheduled doctor's appointments, researched an ongoing MS trial and went through the application process, considered what other jobs I could do part time, started 15 hrs/wk at my part time job.  Sit on a restorative justice panel as a volunteer for community courts for a couple of hours.  I notice that many of my MS symptoms have returned and I'm tired.  Two job interviews - accepted one that is more social media, less talking.  Feeling conflicted about going back to stuff that isn't attached to nature or personal connection.  Meet a dear friend for lunch and buy some birthday presents for upcoming events of Matt's good friends.  Join a Wed night women's song circle in the east bay.  Drive 40 minutes south and spend the day with my mom - get signed onto her checking account after conversation about aging and planning ahead 'just in case'.  Walk around city hall to sell Community Boards mediation services.  A visit from a wonderful friend Magda and her daughter - drink wine at a French restaurant. Spend that weekend looking for planter boxes, washing dishes from our Burning Man Camp storage unit with camp cleanup day and go to Michelle's St Patrick's Day party where I sing with three guitarists for about 3 hours.  I put a call out via FB to friends to refer MS people to me b/c I'm ready to talk to them and considering whether I should keep off medication a while longer...still considering whether I should do a trial instead (no drugs allowed to qualify).

Week 3:  MS symptoms are worse, I have pain and stiffness, etc,  but not even close to the first time around.  Start my new job and continue my old one (tell the old one that I will leave after a big event we're having in June and the ED asks if I can just work one day a week - I'd like to, but it pays just $16/hour - how much is my health worth?), the new job isn't much human interaction and this makes me sad, but it's my only part-time option, I visit the Bouquets to Art exhibit at the museum near my house, get an MRI, plan my mom's surprise bday party with stepdad and sister, sing with women, get re-activated in my neighborhood board and start planning the NOPNA (my neighborhood) Spring Sidewalk Sale that I initiated last year.  Hear from my Dr. that I have a new lesion in my brain - which is standard for MS.  I seriously think I should start copaxone right away and tell the neurologist to order it.  She does.  We order a spinal MRI to see if there's anyting new there.  I am demoralized.  That weekend was a birthday party for a friend in the East Bay on Friday and again on Saturday night (we stay til 3am).  All day Saturday and Sunday, I am tired. Still planning mom's surprise bday and scanning photographs to make a photo montage.

Week 4:    See an osteopath and feel a lot better. Meet with a lady with MS who doesn't work and lives ayurvedically - she was ok w/copaxone, but started taking oral meds instead.  She told me how to make injections not so bad everyday with secrets like ice right after penetration, etc.  Make a flyer for the Sidewalk Sale and distribute it around the neighborhood.  Interview a store owner in my neighborhood for the NOPNA Newsletter that I volunteer write for.  Work three solid days for my two jobs (25 hrs/wk total) Meet my friend, the meditation teacher from the Brahma Kumaris and catch up - he tells me I really need to meditate to integrate what I had in India.  Give a presentation in the Tenderloin for Community Boards. Start an acrylic painting class. Go to meditation that Friday and my gourmet group in the evening - cook food for the gourmet group and Sunday dinner that day.  Saturday, I go to a symposium for integrating more with nature through Pachamama Alliance on Saturday (they're hiring and I want to check them out).  Immediately drive to Santa Cruz for two nights with Tanya for her birthday and baby shower.  Very nice.  I have very low energy. 

Week 5:  The hardest week.  Clean up Tanya's vacation rental and head home for two MRIs (one hour sitting in a capsule). Matt comes with me and asks what it's like for me.  It's like floating in a capsule that makes a lot of noise.  I cry inside b/c I hate having to do this again and again.  I envision Dr. Ashwin in India talking about acceptance.  I can't move, so tears start to tickle my ears.  On April Fool's Day, I start off with injection training from the nurse.  I cry again b/c I really haven't accepted this.  I haven't accepted that I am sick and need to inject myself every day to avoid further lesions and relapses.  She is kind and patient and funny.  I couldn't have had a more gracious tutor - it's not so bad.  I can do this.  The next day, I show Matt in the morning how easy it is and something goes wrong when I pull out the needle - blood is streaming down my leg.  It was kinda funny in a way.  The bruise is still here now, but i haven't had any accidents since.  I feel nauseated, depressed and not hungry - low energy all day.  I write to the nurse and she tells me what I did wrong.  That night, I finish scanning the photos for my mom's bday.  I'm amazed at what a wonderful life my mom has led for 70 years and very much in love with her.  I'm depressed and low energy the next day, but i have to go to work.  The ED asks me if I'm feeling okay - I choke back tears and nod my head.  I drive 30 minutes down to have birthday dinner with my mom, stepdad and uncle.  I'm still not hungry and feeling very low energy and depressed.  I try to fake it.  My mom is happy.  I love her. Take painting class again and I like it a lot.  I went to the art store on Market and 6th for supplies (big sale) and on the way back to my car, I'm looking at all of the junkies and cracked out people and I relate to them.  I'm limping a little with my left leg b/c I still don't fully bend my knee or lift my left foot (it's barely noticeable, but I was tired and my package was heavy and I hadn't eaten much, so was feeling pretty weak).  I think about what needles do to one's soul and wonder if people think I'm a junky.  I pass the free syringe supply place and the man working there nods and gives me a gentle smile.  I wonder if he knows that I feel bruised and low and beaten up.  I get the spinal MRI results and there's a new lesion in the same area as before, but on the right side.  The large one on my left has shrunk.  All of this is standard.  Even though I'm tired and dejected and have been crying yet again, I go to Matt's fundraiser that evening bc it means a lot to him and leave him there to go to sleep at 10pm.  On Friday, we meet with the neurologist and there's nothing new that she can tell me to feel any better, except that it's not that bad compared to other cases (one young boy had 20 new lesions in a month).  New relapse remitting MS patients have new lesions every 3-6 months.  At this stage, it's inflammatory - debilitation comes in 2-3 years.  I'm glad I'm on copaxone finally and hope for the best -- it takes 6 months to take effect and has a 6-month build up rate.  I can still get pregnant if I'm taking it.  We'll see...  On Friday, I apply for the Pachamama job, Skype with our friends in Dubai about MS and then stay up with Matt until 3am working on a birthday video for my mom and doubling the amount of photos from 120 to 250, while trying to put them in chronological order, as well as putting 27 of my favorites in frames that I had collected the day before from thrift stores.  The next day, I am so tired and grumpy.  My sister had asked me to go to Disneyland with she, my bro-in-law, my mom and my niece from Albuquerque.  I know that I won't fare well walking in the heat all day with crowds everywhere and it makes me sad that I can't keep up with my own family.  I cry all day long for no reason.  I'm tired and feel like my eyes are pulling into my sockets b/c I'm feeling so down.  We nonetheless film a video piece for my mom in our bathrobes and I look like shit for posterity.  Oh well.  We head down to Santa Clara to prep for my mom's surprise party.  We arrive at 3:30 and I arrange flowers and the photos.  The guests arrive and then mom, who is miraculously surprised.  I kick into energy entertainment mode and MC the event with my sister.  If I didn't have bags under my eyes, you never would've known how much I'd been crying all day long.  Her party was just wonderful and my mom was sooo happy.  It was beautiful.  Just beautiful.  We spend the night at my mom's house with my sister, bro-in-law and uncle.  The next day, we watch the video, watch mom open her presents, walk through the park and have lunch.  I decide that I don't have the energy to go with Matt to a flow arts show.  Instead I stay at home and finally unpack fully from India - I just didn't have the time before - and organize the books in our library.  Just as I finish, Matt returns home and we go to sleep.

Week 6: This week is better.  I notified the trial on Monday that I wouldn't be participating and asked if I could be on a waiting list for Phase 2.  They told me to check back in a year.  I'm relieved.  On Tuesday, I met with someone from my new job and she was so nice and personable that I gained inspiration to work with them that has been missing for me.  Perhaps due to a disconnect, or perhaps b/c I've been so depressed.  It's a start-up company, so there is constantly changes and I'm not always clear what they want from me, nor who to ask for clarity.  I have a new campaign with peeps at community boards that I'm doing and it makes me happy.  But still...all of this is social media and I really want human interaction and less typing.  I write the article about the shop keeper and the SAFE Bike Program.  I send the shopkeeper article to my District Supervisor's office and the Chief of Staff thanks me for all I do and tells me it makes a big difference.We go to dinner at our friends' new home in Oakland and it's lovely.  Savannah reads my tarot cards for my question 'How do I integrate India in to my life back home?' She pulls a spread that shows a real hardship in the past with a lot of pain, followed by the Justice Card which has nature and peace and balance - that was India.  The immediate present is one of swords and the future is seven swords.  I automatically think of the syringes and how much I hate being sick.  I tell her that my mornings in India, and for so long before that, have been sacred times for me and now they're ruined b/c I stab myself and then have to rest a while to avoid feeling sick.  I haven't exercised, only meditated once and now even my mornings are ruined!  She invites me not to do it first thing and to create a new relationship that the syringes are filled with medicine to make me better.  Take back your mornings, she advises.  I ask her if I can draw another card as to how to make it better.  I draw a card with a man on it and she tells me to contact a male meditation teacher.  The next day, I see Sister Sukanya from the Brahma Kumaris on the bus and tell her I want to see Jay to start meditating regularly.  I go outside and enjoy nature before giving myself my medicine and feel a victory in taking back my morning.  I skip my women's song circle and don't have the energy to go to my dear friend's bday party at a bar a few blocks from my house.  Instead, I watch bad movies b/c I'm too tired from typing 25 hrs/week spliced within all of my activities, to read anything.  Today, I went to my painting class, did an errand for Community Boards and returned home to garden a bit and then work some on social media.  Tomorrow is lunch with another friend and efforts to do 8 extra hours of work due next week.  Then Matt and I prepare for a Seder on Saturday night with 10 guests, followed by a garage sale with my neighborhood on Sunday.  That evening, I'll go to Hound of the Baskervilles with my mom and niece and stay at her place until Tuesday. 

Week 7 (to come):  On Tuesday, we'll drive 3 hours down to San Luis Obispo to visit my sister and bro-in-law w/them until Wed. night when I fly home. We have plans to go sailing and hiking and just having fun together.  I love visiting them in San Luis Obispo.  Then, painting on Thursday and after working for 6 hours on Friday, my Burning Man camp is gathering 3.5 hours north in Ukiah. I love Cliff's ranch - it's beautiful and peaceful.  We'll camp out outside and I will relax.    

Week 8 (to come):  Monday will be replacing a denture going all the way down to the root.  How will MS make THAT different? And on Tuesday, my new part-time employer will go public and we're out of Beta.  My contract with them is only until 4/22.  I think they'll offer to keep me on and increase my hours to 20 hrs/week, but I'm not sure that I'll manage.  It feels like I'm just holding on as it is.  I promised Community Boards that I would work with them until June 6.  I'm supposed to work 15 hrs/week with them, but I've spent just 10 hrs/wk with them in the past month.   I have plans to go to a spa with a gf on Wed night after a day at work and hope to see Snataum Kaur in Marin on Thursday after painting class and a half day of Social Media work.  That weekend, we're  hosting friends from outta town for the weekend, including a gourmet group bbq on Sunday and Matt's fire spinning show on Saturday night.

Week 9:  My birthday is on Wed. April 30.  By the time I turn 41, I hope things slow down for me.  I still have so many friends and family that want to see me and I simply don't have the time nor the energy to see them or talk on the phone with them.  I can't feel bad about it.  I'm trying to keep a balance in my life, but this pace seems too much.  My sister tells me not to work and to write a book. A lot of people have read my blog and loved it.  My dream is to create a conference for alternative ways to look at MS - a multi-day retreat.  I wonder if I should quit the social media job, but it's my bread and butter at this point and I need to make money.  At the very least, I'll stay with them and Community Boards at 35 hrs/week through May and the first week of June.

The future:  May looks pretty clear, except for a gf visiting from Australia mid-May and then Matt and I will go to Europe for 6 weeks in mid June until July 7.  A friend of mine is getting married.  I see this as an opportunity to reset.  I will leave both jobs behind me.  Will coming home in July be a reset for me?  I intend to use vacationing in Europe as an opportunity to explore that question.  I hope it is relaxing.  Looking back at this blog without returns for each week highlights how very packed my schedule has been.  I prefer to have the next weeks more like this paragraph...short.  : )

Immediate Goals:  Wake up and mediate, write a paragraph and walk outside or do yoga a bit before taking my injection.  I haven't reintegrated exercise or meditation.  My diet hasn't been super strict.  My arm hurts from so much typing bc of my two jobs and my volunteer work.  The one thing I love love love is interacting with people and writing profiles about them.  Can you live a life you love and make money?  How will I get there.  If any of you have any suggestions, PLEASE write to me at kmillich@gmail.com

I still trust in Grace and when I paint for 3 hours every Thursday and enjoy the garden in my backyard, I am reminded of peace.  There are sooo many social opportunities that I've said no to since I've been home.  I only attend about 30% of the events.  That's a big change from before, but it still feels harried.  I trust that meditation, exercise and diet will bring it all around again.  I dare say that the right job will, too.  BTW, the injections still feel like a wasp sting for 5 minutes, but I think I'm getting the hang of it and although my energy is low and i have permanent bags under my eyes (that I think is the result of copaxone), I think I'm getting used to it.

When I go to the ocean, I'm reminded of the ebbs and flows of life.  Since I've been back, there has been a lot of love and activity and business.  I'm trying to keep calm in it all, but it's different.  So different.  If you are a friend and I don't see much of you just now, please trust that we'll get together eventually.  I just feel like I'm juggling 1000 balls with only two arms just now.  This too, shall pass and then calmer tides shall prevail.  Of that, I am determined to live in to...

This photo is of me after Matt's Dreamtime Circus Fundraiser during week 5.  I'd just discovered that I had yet another new lesion in my spine a few hours earlier and I had been sad all day and still getting used to copaxone's aftereffects of depression and fatigue.  Savannah painted my face when I asked her to make me look happy and vibrant instead of sad.  She did a good job.  San Francisco has its benefits.  Savannah is certainly one of them.  So are so many of my lovely friends...

Grace

From Sunrise

to Sunset

There is a Grace

in Hariharapura

The birds sing

the cows sing

Pujas' songs ring through the Temples

Children's songs sweeten the skies

The cars 'honk'

the rickshaws 'meep'

and the River Tunga sings the purest of All.

The Sunrise on the Tunga

spreads Grace through the village

People smile...and care for each other.

Arogyaniketana heals with heart and wisdom.

As the Sun sets behind the Temple,

the planets, stars and cosmic energies

Shine Grace from above.

Hariharapura is Magic

The people are beautiful

Innocence is everywhere

from the jungles, to the rivers, to the souls all around.

From Sunrise

to Sunset

There is Grace

in Hariharapura.

Namaskar

This is my last morning at the ashram.  I woke for the longest, most melodic call to prayer yet, followed by the sweet call of birds and roosters.  The sky is a mottled silver with a cloudy full moon.  Hariharapura is like an ongoing lullaby of sound and song.  

Yesterday in treatment, Kiri Svedhana, I fully felt my thumb for the first time since my first MS flare up.  It was a miracle.  I never thought I'd feel my thumb again.  I got back to my apartment, fell to my knees and thanked God and the universal energies for healing me.  I was convulsing with gratitude and the release of pent up hopelessness for a full recovery.  I thanked myself for having the discernment to listen to myself when most were skeptical about my decision to come here in the first place.  I must always trust my intuition.  Discern between so many energies in the future- choose one or two -focus and flourish.  Heal.  Clare came to my room even though I'd pulled the curtains.  She understood my joy.  We cried and hugged and she kept reminding me that yes, this was real.  'You can heal!' 'I can heal!' 'We can heal!'  I am healing.  Thank You!!!!

This morning, my thumb feels like my arm used to -tight-but it has sensation.  My arm is looser-it feels so relaxed after being would up for so long that it feels slightly longer than the right.  I've lost 17 pounds that are more than compensated for with my 100 pounds of baggage to take home.  I am educated about the ongoing welfare of my body, mind, spirit and intellect.  The Dr says to try to get pregnant after two cycles.  He says we have cleared a bit over 70% of the toxins from my central channel and have revived myself and reduced inflammation in my overall system.  My creativity has flourished.  I've done 20 paintings and written the last post as a Valentine Love Poem for Hariharapura. And this blog, of course.

How can I say there is anything but Grace in the MS which has brought me to this place?  I will soon go to the river Tunga one last time to offer my gratitude.  I didn't have the balance to do tree pose on my left side before I came here.  I'm enclosing a photo from yesterday of me doing vriksasana in a flowing river with no fixed drishti.  Instead, there's a beautiful caressing of my soul from this wonderful, healing, innocent place-nature at it's best-Hariharapira....Grace.

Namaskar.

From the Outside In

There is a 2.3 year old here now named 'Milo'.  He is my dear friend Susan/Hrimati's son and he is adorable.  Hrimati is the person who first suggested that I come here.  I remain forever indebted to her for her suggestion and to myself for following it and to my community for supporting my decision.  I can truly say that coming here was the best thing that I could have done for myself and my community.  Just like you can't force a 2.3 year old to accept a new flavor that he's not ready to taste, I can't force feed myself acceptance.  

These past two weeks, I have been sitting with the multifarious iterations of acceptance, fear and frustration that arise.  I realize this will be an ongoing dance for life.  I have finished a seven-day treatment of oil massage followed by either water with herbs or very, very thick oil with herbs.  They have been sitting for 40 days with herbs brewing that are designed to cleanse (water) or strengthen (oil) the central channel.  Dr Ashwin also rubs oil onto the top of my head to refresh the scalp from the heat outside.  I feel calmer than ever and my body feels good.  My left arm has a constant tightness that I'm used to and gets tighter when I do or think of something that I should not do.  Otherwise, I am calm and slowly building back up my yoga practice.  The meditation practice is good and I love the peace that comes with it.  A 60-year old TM teacher was my neighbor for 10 days and his very presence, let alone twice daily shared meditation practice, was calming.  Yet, I'm not done cleansing.  Acceptance is not complete - there is still much to be met...

I have been having consistent bad dreams about home.  In last night's dream, Matthew and I were sitting in a cafeteria.  I had a salad in front of me.  He proposed that we go to a party that started at 5:30 a.m.  I said "I don't see why I would want to go to any party that starts at 5:30 a.m., and for that matter, I don't think that I will be going to many parties at all.  I'll wake up early to do yoga and meditation every day and go to sleep early at night.  I don't really see how we'll see much of eachother."  And Matt said something like "Oh come on, this will be fun," to which I huffed out of the cafeteria and caught a bus.  "He'll never understand who I am," I fumed.  I was suddenly transported back to 7th grade and the bus didn't stop at my stop.  It eventually turned around and during tht time, I tried calling Matt on my cellphone repeatedly.  But it either turned into a 1980s joystick or the call wouldn't go through.  I woke up frustrated.  It followed a dream the night before where I caught my neighbor snuggling with Matt on a couch in an apartment with a bunch of people lounging around and I picked her up by two limbs and threw her out the door in a fit of rage.  Matt looked surprised and said 'what's the problem?' I woke up frustrated again...

So, I asked Dr. Ashwin what to make of these consistently frustrated dreams and he said they may be only 10% relevant and not to put too much stock in them.  My friend Hrimati suggested that my pitta was clearing out of my channels and this was good.  Another person said that in dreams, other people represent YOU....that hit a cord.  Although I've been actively trying to accept where I am and what I have, I have been fearful of returning home to the pace and action and lifestyle that I had before.  It's easy enough to say that I'll slow down and listen to my body, but quite a different thing to accept that.  My dreams are a reminder that this has not yet been accepted.

Today, after breakfast, the gaggle of American ladies who is currently here gathered in a circle and discussed acceptance.  I shared my dreams and started to cry that perhaps I won't fit into my life anymore - 'what if I let my husband down?' I asked.  'He married an active, dynamic lady and now I have no choice but to slow down.'  Matt later assured me on the telephone that he loves me exactly as I am and that he will do whatever he can to maintain balance in BOTH of our lives.  God, I love this man..but back to breakfast...

Clare, the Parisian with MS had some truly salient points:  "You are 40 and are now mature.  We slow down a bit anyway when we enter the 40s.  I had MS when I was 20 and am now 45.  I am not in a wheelchair, but I have slowed down.  I have slowed down a lot.  Before, I was a manager and I was very busy - so busy - I didn't take time to feel my body.  Now, I do not have a choice.  I must walk slower than other people.  I have less energy.  I have to take rests.  But, I refuse to accept that there is no cure.  There are positive things to having MS.'

'Like what,' I skeptically asked.

'You slow down.  Slowing down is a very good thing.  Sometimes, I am walking along slowly and I see people rushing past to the right, rushing past to the left, whah, whah, there they go - always rushing and wooshing bye.  The go so fast!  As I walk, I take time to see things.  I notice flowers.  I connect more deeply with people.  I take the time because I must.  If I try to walk fast or do too much, I am laid flat.  That is not fun.  I had to stop African dance because it was too much action and I loved my African dance.  But I gave up African dance and I found yoga.  African dance is from without and yoga is from within!  I found a slower form of dance that I love just as much and allows me to connect with my partner.  I feel that my MS is a gift to slow down.  I feel so much more connected.  I can look at the negatives, sure.  There is a lot of terror.  There is a lot of fear.  Will it come again? Will I get worse?  What if....?  But, there we are so much more than our diagnosis.  We are so much more than our limitations.  With each door that closes, another opens.  Do you want to rush through life or slow into your maturity with awareness?' 

I was inspired.  She went on.

'I know that the western medical world wants you to believe that you will have this disease forever.  But, I refuse to accept that we can not find a cure.  You are lucky that you have come to panchakarma at the beginning!  For 24 years, I did not know that I had it.  You know and you have taken steps to clear your channels of toxins right away!  You are so lucky.  You will go home and yes, the stresses will be there, it won't be so relaxing as here, but you have awareness that lifestyle is just as important as a disease that the western doctors tell you that you have.  There is no cure?  How about a better lifestyle.  One in which you make a choice every day to listen to your body.  Not ignore it because you are busy, but listen to it, honor it and take the space to stay healthy rather than limited by your disease.  There are positives in MS.  And there may be a cure.  People with HIV get together and stand for a cure - they build a spiderweb of support.  What do we have for MS?  We don't have the energy to build our own spiderweb?  Phuough (the french sound that we all love so well), this is not the only choice.  We will find a cure and until then, the choice is ours to find the positive.'

Jen, from America, shared that Clare had previously mentioned that her own children had become more compassionate and sensitive to other people's energies because of her own shifted energy.  'Yes,' said Clare, 'this is also a good thing.' Hrimati suggested that rather than accept a disease as  way of life, one meets it, joins it and respects it.  'Maybe the word should be respect rather than accept,' she offered.  

And so I have been thinking about this.  It echoes Ram Dass' book 'Still Here' in which he talks about aging.  He says that we are an ego within a Self within Atman.  If we choose to see it that way rather than the reverse (where the Ego is the most important thing), we realize that there is so much more than our body and our current circumstances.  There is a greater connectiveness and wisdom of the Soul/Self, and then there is consciousness/Atman in which the Soul is always striving to reconnect.  When people die in other cultures, there is less fear because they trust that they will reconnect with the greater awareness that is pure consciousness.  They find the space and peace in aging to find wisdom - a trait oft revered by other cultures.  In our culture, age is a pariah to be shushed in a corner.  People live in fear of aging, disease and dying.  Their egos are larger than their awareness of Soul and Consciousness.  If we simply pause in the midst of aging, including disease, and shift the prism through which we view things, we can realize that we are not just our bodies.  

As Clare said, we are not just our diagnosis.  There is something positive to what happens to us.  She has taken the lens of looking at least through her Soul and that is what I understand layer two of 'acceptance' to be.  Layer three is of course that there is a consciousness through which I, in this life, must experience through MS and whatever else to go even closer to that which pervades the entire universe: love, acceptance and compassion.  Bhakti.

I thought about the last three days of my Grandma's life.  My sister Stacy and I kept a vigil by her bedside.  Our cousin was frequently there, too.  My mother was far off in Africa and virtually unreachable.  Grandma Kay was 100 and 9 months years old.  She hated the nurses ward where she was living, and yet she kept fighting to live.  Stacy and Grandma and I had fought the facility successfully in prior years to keep Grandma out of the nurse's ward and in her own apartment, but she kept falling since the 24 hour nurse couldn't watch her every single minute of the day.  Grandma Kay hated that ward, but she kept hanging in.  When we held the vigil, she was mostlly sleeping.  I was reading to her from 'The Tibetan Book of Living & Dying' and singing songs to her in English and Sanskrit.  I didn't have a plan, but was just holding the intention that we clear her channels of any fear so that she could peacefully, even joyfully, surrender to death in this body.  At one point she sat up and squeezed my hand, or perhaps it was Stacy's hand, I can't remember - we were so unified in our love and hope.  As I was looking at the clouds crossing over the moon last night, I wondered what that grasp meant.  Did Grandma finally see that she was a part of the entire universe and that this little body need not be her chamber of fear anymore?  That is was okay, actually, a blessing to leave it?  I like to think that is what happened....

I asked that question to Matthew today when we spoke on Skype.  How can we know?  We were there in love for her and I hope, hope, hope that we provided a vessel for her to pass with ease and fearlessness.  Similarly, I have a choice of how I choose to see aging or disease.  When I was first diagnosed, I felt like I was trapped in a chamber of sheer terror.  I was terrified of what was going to happen, if I wouldn't get better, if it would pass to my right side, if the pain would never go away, if it got worse, if I became blind, if I ended up in  wheelchair.  I saw all of the things that I could never do again and felt like I was living in 'The Scream' by Edward Munch.  The screams of fear did not cease to assail me...and although here what comes is not screaming, they are dreams of frustration.  They are doubts, they are fear and they are also the awareness of a possibility of something peaceful, something mature, something wise.  

I can choose how I will see this diagnosis.  I can either grasp on to the fear and let it take me down the rabbit hole of doom, or I can step back and observe what is happening from a different perspective than that of total disempowerment.  I can respect it for what it opens to me as change.  I need not fear it, I can accept the shifts in pace and awareness that are necessarily in my life.  Do not the waves and currents of the ocean ebb and flow.  This is natural.  Reminders are all around us if we simply pause long enough to notice...and relate to them.  I am blessed with knowledge and a supportive husband, family and community.  I am not beholden to a stressful job or expensive mortgage payment due to a high income.  There is a way to value health over doing everything all the time.  Why fear this?  This, even when it is bad, will slow me down.  And there is something positive in that.  

Tonight, as you look at the moon through the clouds or the rain, I wonder if you can take the space to breathe deep into your soul and feel your connction with Soul and then beyond that with Consciousness.  What happens when you slow down?  Fragility is a gift in which to pause...and expand....and connect.  It is not for us to understand everything that happens, but we surely have an option of how we choose to participate and observe it all.  

My MS may very well be a blessing.  

Below is a picture of Clare.  The ladies suggested that she should write to help people and she was moved to tears.  She has a great gift.  Perhaps no matter where we are on our journey, it is always helpful to share and be listened to.  She is an inspiration and had no idea.  May we all share our wisdom and be honored for it.  Merci, Clare.

Acceptance

Every time that we meet for a one-on-one consultation, Dr. Ashwin talks about the importance of acceptance and a positive attitude.  Some things I need to hear again and again.  This morning, I woke from a string of bad dreams about Matthew.  I couldn't see him, but I knew he was there.  I'd previously woken from a dream where I was mad at him for no reason and in my waking state I felt bad for being angry at him for no reason, and also frustrated that I hadn't actually seen him.  I then had another dream about Matt.  All of his friends and I were present for some sort of ritual honoring him and everyone was wearing white.  It was a silent dream.  Alex and April were wearing their wedding attire, but it was all white.  We were on a ranch somewhere and Matt or an effigy of Matt were on stage (again, I couldn't see/look at him) and they were doing a prostrating dance for him like the Indians do in Pujas here.  Jesse was nearby, looking lovely and shamanistic in white, doing a blessing in the four directions of north south east and west in Matt's honor.  I was then in my old neighborhood in Santa Clara and Jack Thorpe and Kara Nelson were with me looking at teenage decorations in my old bedroom.  Then, the doctor woke me up for treatment.  I was jostled and frustrated that I hadn't seen Matt in the dream, but that I'd seen so many other people from our community.  My skype messages had a new one from Matt saying he missed me.  I wanted to speak with him very badly.

So, I went directly to treatment.  It's a cleansing oil and nourishing water that has been boiled and brewed for 40 days to treat the cental nervous channel.  The doctor will do a cleanse of the central channel one day and a strengthening of it the next.  Today was the first:  a cleanse.  As the oil was being rubbed on my body, I was thinking about how much I missed Matthew and also about how bad I felt that I hadn't seen him in my dreams and that I'd been frustrated with him.  I was also thinking about a walk I took yesterday.  I ran some errands (clothes to the laundry man and a shirt to the tailor) and decided to walk down to the river.  I sat by the river for some time and it was becoming twilight, so I took the long route home around the village and along a ridge overlooking rice fields to see the sunset.  I started to feel tingling in my legs, even though I hadn't walked 25 minutes and it wasn't too hot.  It wasn't bad tingling, just a bit.  And I had just 5 more minutes to go.  I walked on and thought of all of the things that I like to do - long hikes, adventures, being in the sun.  I thought about how I'd need to curtail those activities.  Walking from cabin to cabin in Yosemite if we win the lottery?  Maybe not.  Going on multi-hour hikes with friends without stopping?  Maybe not.  Being a slower walker b/c I'm generally tired now? Yes.  I started to get so down on myself and my limitations, a well as frustration with my dreams, that I started crying.

I told the Dr. that I was still in the acceptance phase and feeling very frustrated and sad, and that I'd had a nightmare about my husband with negative emotions and that I hadn't even been able to see him in the dreams.  He said 'the reason I keep making special time to talk to you is because it's very important for you to accept where you are, Kyra."  "These things that happen to us in our lives are beyond our control."  "You must keep a positive attitude and accept."  "Three years ago, would you have been in as good a place as you are now to accept what is happening?"  "Probably not," I said.  "Everything happens at exactly the right time and for the right reasons."  "You have been given your health and your father and your husband for a reason that is beyond what you can conceive; you have to accept."  I said that my husband was a very good man.  "There are many very good people that do not have good people in their life."  "You have."  "You are joined together in destiny and must simply accept all what is happening - the good and the bad."  "You can not assign blame to others or point your fingers outside of yourself."  I thought about how I've been blogging about so many externalities and all of the bad things that I had done to result in harm to others in my life.  

I then thought about my walking as of late - having to ask Jen to slow down from her speed walking and only walking 30 minutes before needing to take a rest.  I told him I was frustrated that I could no longer walk very far and was afraid that this was going to limit my options in the future.  He responded:  "You can train your body to walk again - maybe not as far - but quite far."  "You are starting at level 5-10 and must take your time to master each level before moving to the next."  "It may seem like a backward slide to the negative mind, but to the positive mind it is a new beginning."  "You take your time to get to know your body as it is now and then you test the limits of how far you can expand."  "But first, you must accept where you are."  "Accept and be positive."  " this is a new beginning for you."  "Accept it."

And so, I am accepting in theory, but still struggling a bit with the actuality of it.  I am glad that I have some more time here to continue listening to, learning from, and experimenting with my body, mind and intellect in such a nourishing place.  Matt has texted through skype and we're working on an exact time for him to call today (you see, my phone doesn't ring so I have to be looking directly at it to receive a call).  It's been good to be here and mostly removed from technology b/c I can focus on the subtle aspects.  I'm looking really forward to talking to him.  I'm accepting that my body and I are studying devotedly at level 5-10 and we will make progress.  But for now, I accept.  I accept. I accept.

Innocence of India

Venus is now rising with the morning Sun as flocks of snowy egrets fly over me on the roof doing Trikonasana.  With the beginning of the New Moon today,  I have finished my detoxification and am allowed to do yoga again.  The doctor said that my purgation of 11 bowel movements in one day thanks to a little tonic he gave me in the morning was very successful and that we must thank the gods, goddesses, energies and plants, as well as my own intention, for such a successful detox.  It turns out that the prayer he does every time is asking for the healing powers of these local energies.  Thank you energies.  I feel light and cleansed.  The Dr. said we've gotten rid of 70% of the toxins in my system and all of the ghee.  It certainly felt like that this morning as the prana eased through my body during asana.  He promises to get rid of 90% of the toxins by the end of my stay here.  The rest is up to me.  

The day before purgation, I stayed in the sweat box a little too long.  It was only 10 minutes, but I was enjoying the hissing of the steam and the heat on my body, as well as the dew drops forming on my forehead...I was fantasizing about the kabuki spa with my eyes closed...suddenly, Dr. Shubha was standing directly in front of me with a look of consternation and concern.  "You are sweating," [concerned head wobble] "you must get out now" as she opened the sweat box door and cool air came pouring into my fantasy.  I later realized that I should've listened to the Dr and gotten our when I was merely warm.  My arm was in great pain all day and I was trying really hard not to worry that I was having another MS flare-up.  I was quiet at dinner and went to bed with prayers that my arm would be better, not worse, the next day.  It was.  Thank God.  That day was the day of purgation.  My period started this day and the Dr. said that we couldn't have planned it any better.  Why?  Because I need two days of rest/no treatment post-purgation and there's also no treatment while on the cycle.  So, in essence, it's perfectly planned.  Thanks again energies.  My arm hurt a bit the day of the purgation and lasted into the evening.  Again, the Dr. said not to worry.  He said that my body is exhausted - that it would be 40% tired with just the purge, but 90% also with the menses.  The next morning, I felt better.   I didn't go on any long walks or do any yoga.  I just rested.

During that rest, I got an email from Dr. Geeta - an eccentric doctor that I'd met previously (Jan. 2009) in India.  I'd travelled all the way across India with her (from Tamil Nadu to Gujurat) to do five days of Panchakarma at her house.  Her house was freezing cold and she required me to listen to spooky chamber music from 'The Mother' of Sri Aurobindo Ashram.  I did a runner for the airport, but she came after me and convinced me that she was supposed to teach me something.  She was so earnest that I went back, finished the treatment and left her house feeling lighter, happier and more energetically vibrant than I ever had in my life.  When my Bollywood actor friend picked me up at the airport after travelling from Gujurat, his mouth dropped and he told me that I had the glow that only the stars had in Bollywood (more on him soon).  Anyway, it ended up working very well, but I'd always had a bit of a reluctance to go back to her, but fascination at the same time.  Imagine then, how strange it was to get this email from her out of the blue after four years:  "Hi Kyra, Where are you? What are you doing? I have moved permanently to Pondicherry.  Here's my phone number.  You can call or come anytime."  It just so happens that my chakra yoga teacher from Thailand's guru has his school right next door and I'd been wondering if I'd ever have a chance to study there.  Um.....

Naturally, I called her.  I told her I was at an ashram getting ayurvedic treatment in India and she said 'come to me,' 'I want to make sure you have a child.'  Well, that got me.  I asked her if she knew I was in India.  "Kyra, we have a soul connection, I keep telling you.  Of course I know that you're in India.  Come to me!"  I didn't ask if she knew I wasn't yet pregnant, but really wanted to be.  And so, the day after I emptied my toxins and was recovering, I had THIS tossing around in my mind.  I looked at how I could get to Pondicherry:  leave this ashram early, change my domestic flight from Bangalore to Pondicherry, move back Dubai a bit, etc. etc. etc.  And you know what?  My arm started hurting.  A lot.  When I slowed down and remembered that it's important to finish what one starts and not to go for the shiny new thing, even if it seems uniquely mystically alluring to me, I decided that I would finish this ashram and not go.  My arm instantly felt better.  Just. Like. That.  Yet another new connection between me and my body.  When I make a bad decision, my left arm hurts.  Well, that's handy (no pun intended).  Earlier that morning, I'd had a dream that my mom needed a new car and I was trying to convince her to buy a tried and true used Honda from Craigslist, but she wanted something like a shiny new Kia.  I remembered this dream and thought perhaps it was a bit prescient.

Nonetheless, the allure of Dr. Geeta lingered.  The next day, I called her to see how much it would be and what she was offering.  She told me it was 10 days for about $1K (room, board and treatment) for prenatal education, 3 hours of external treatment plus 2 hours of internal treatment.  She mentioned the good luck that I would be there during 'the Mother's' birthday.  I asked if the internal treatment had anything to do with the Mother.  'Yes, with the Mother's blessing, you will be gifted with a child.' 'I am an ayurvedic MD and a gynecologist MD, as well as a devotee of the mother.'  'The last time you were with me, you felt her presence, remember?' 'I have people come to me from all over the world.' 'A negro couple came from Africa and they wanted a white child.' 'After four months of prenatal education and treatment with me, they had a white child with the blessings of the Mother.' Um...

And so the decision to go to Pondy was made:  not this time around.   I will instead pray to the energies and planets and gods and goddesses, as well as myself and my husband and the universe at large, as I continue to detoxify my body and move forward in a lighter manner - both physically and emotionally.  I'm sorry, 'Mother', but I am quite well taken care of on this track and will stick with it.  I was fortunate to study Chakra Yoga in Thailand and will continue to find my own way with me as a teacher.  When I asked Dr. Ashwin his opinion, he guessed that she was opening a new buiness and contacted everyone that she knew rather than 'knowing' that I was in India.  Perhaps I give this country too much credit for its mysticism.  Perhaps not...   

Dr. Ashwin says that the beauty of this place has to do with the 'innocence':  the innocence of the people, the innocence of the water and the innocence of the forest.  Indeed, throughout the day, we here children singing, pujas being done, birds singing (even peacocks in the morning), cows mooing, and only occassional - not constant- honking.  As a Brahman village of 800 people, they respect the land and eachother.  There is very little garbage on the streets, men are not openly urinating on the street, there is no begging or harassment, the children excitedly say 'hi' and keep going while giggling, and the calm in people's eyes is very relaxing and bright.  The river is also unpolluted and swishes in front of the great temple at the base of steps leading down to it.  If you stand in the river long enough, little fish gather at your feet and nibble off the dead skin.  Just across the river (which can be walked across with ease) is a Vedantic school for young boys where they learn the yogic ways of life - you can often here 'The Gayatri Mantra' echoing across the river.  The forest is the home of king cobras.  The not so innocent three men that were stealing their venom for sale in Bombay were recently caught and punished - two of the people here heard them being whipped at the police station next door.  Indeed, the forest is lush and verdant.  I watched several dozen snowy egrets flying east at sunset across the green floor with a pinkish hue --- it was lovely.  Every day, I see two new kinds of birds - bold and colorful.  I have not yet seen a cobra and likely will not, but this forest is their primary home in India.  They are scared of humans - don't worry, Mom.  

I have a new companion with whom I take walks.  His name is James and he's almost 60 years old and from London.  From the age of 23, he has been a transcendental meditation (TM) teacher.  He's not allowed to teach me TM meditation outside of a formal facility, but has a very calming presence and I like to meditate with him with my own methods.  He's travelled all over the Middle East (in the 70s) to bring resonant peace to people in conflict.  I like him very much and am happy to walk through the forests (on the path, not narrow cobra filled ones!) with him.  It's just right.

So, as I let India enrapture me, as I heal, as I revive, as I feel lighter and more hopeful and more connected with my body than I have in years, I wonder...should I extend my stay a bit?  I can still stay two extra weeks and be home in time for ovulation.  I checked in with Matt who says that he's so busy with work and that if he were me, he'd stay.  And so I called a couple of friends.  Both are willing to meet me in Bangalore.  Asif, the Bollywood (and now making quite a name for himself as a Tollywood) actor, said he'd rent a motorbike in Bangalore and we'd explore around Karnataka.  (He is the geeky manager in the American movie 'Outsourced', btw).  Sounds good, but Dr. Ashwin says I must stay in one place for at least two days while travelling.  We can do that.  I started to look into going to the State of MP to see tigers and ancient tantric ruins, but guess what?  My arm started hurting.  And then I remembered Dr. Ashwin's words about the innocence of Karnataka.  Why not stay around here and explore.  Just then, Asif called and suggested he pick me up here and we travel around this area for 2 days, then he can drop me off here and I'll be on my way to Bangalore...thank you energies of this local place once again.

And now, I'll go do gentle yoga again on the rooftop.  The sun is nearly setting.  I am hoping that the gypsy staying here will either be on his flute or guitar.  I finally got his name when he gave a CD to a Swedish woman (a great teacher for me - my 50 year old walking partner who tells me I must meet the pain, not fear it) who left today.  His name is Estas Tonne.  Our wifi is too slow to download anything, but if you'd like a taste of what it sounds like around here, google him.  Today I commented about the symphony of birds all around us and said he must find a lot of inspiration.  He smiled and did a little lyrical gesture of his hand.  He doesn't say much, but his gypsy guitar sure does...

I'm attaching a picture of 'Pappa' and the first born grandchild.  They walk around this property with awe on their faces as they look at and listen to the innocent beauty of the forest.  In one glimpse, they actually had the same childlike faces.  The Brahman healing through nature tradition continues...I believe in the confluence of body, mind and spirit that Ayurveda offers.  I told Dr. Ashwin that the western doctors suggested that I try a treatment of daily hormone injections for 10 days with three ultrasounds for an IUI.  He gently explained that the reproductive layer is directly on top of the nervous system layer.  "For you, with your MS, to inject any such hormones would cause great disruption to the nervous system."  It's explanations like this that make me feel that I'm in exactly the right place to get myself balanced enough to let nature take its course.  And if it doesn't, I will accept it, as with everything.

Rooted Expansiveness

The smell of it was everywhere.  Through every pore, both nostrils, my mouth, even my ears, the ghee was burbling out of me as sweat from my skin.  I turned my nose to my armpit - a sea of ghee assaulted my senses.  It smelled like the thick, rich, hot butter oozing out of every aspect of my being.

I woke from this dream with dry skin and no discernable smell of butter.  I washed my face, brushed my teeth and did some yogic breathing to greet the new day.  At 7am, I was given a glass of ghee and a prayer by Dr. Ashwin for the fifth day of ghee detoxification.  Yesterday, he said that I was at about 50% total saturation, but that the completion phase is rapid in the last few days.  If my dream meant anything, I'm already there on some level, or perhaps it was prescient of the future.  The following day, I felt like a giant butterball of ghee.  The light sweat from my morning asana smelled of ghee.  I felt like a tick full of butter, who could roll down the local hill and collect cow dung and tree branches as I descended with a great possibility of popping and making a huge mess!  Earlier in the morning, Dr. Ashwin scratched the top of my arm and took my pulse.  "You should be at 100% saturation by tonight; we will see by tomorrow morning."  I did what anyone can ever do in India:  put my hands together in 'namaste' and said 'very well' with a feeble smile.  He was right.  Today, I slept through the call to prayer and awoke to his gentle scratches on my skin and calming brown eyes telling me 'saturation is complete,' 'you make take hot bath - four buckets of hot water.' And so it is...  

The ghee detox is followed by three days of sweat treatment in either a hot box with a hole cut out of the top for my head, or through piped steam on my body like a massage, or through sevral buckets of a hot water bath.  In my case, Dr. Ashwin prescribed the least heating because MS symptoms can be exacerbated by excessive heat (true: see below walk story).  I will then have one to two days of purgation:  I'll take a shot of a medicated beverage and then eliminate four times either through my mouth or through the other end.  That will complete the detox process.  

Why would one want to saturate her body with ghee as a detox treatment?   As the most sattvic form of provision from the holy cow, ghee is believed to have healing properties.  In Ayurveda, ghee is a miracle cure-all remedy for everything from eye problems to constipation.  In my case, the ghee is actively attaching to the toxins in my body and lubricating them so that they can loosen up/decalcify and then  leave my body through sweat and purgation.  This ghee has been treated with special herbs to focus on my mind, body and intellect.  I asked Dr. Ashwin whether the mind and intelllect weren't the same thing.  'No, the mind is actively thinking; in your case the mind is very active."  "The intellect is a higher state of consciousness that is always present, but can get a little bit blocked."  "Once you are calmly rooted in your body, the mind eases and allows the intellect to come into the body."  "This is why this particular batch of ghee is designed to alleviate your symptoms."  This made sense to me.  I thought to myself that I couldn't envision a  better palliative cure or causal explanation for a disease of the central nervous system could be prescribed.  

I've been exploring these questions:  'What do you think might lie at the root of your illness?" and "What does your body need in order to heal?"  The answers that come up aren't easy to articulate; it feels more like a frenetic energy to an increasingly sensitive organism caused by overdoing.  The healing feels like pressing pause and surrendering in to the peace within my body rather than trying to shove it into something that is convenient for me to keep doing.  Naturally, I should be able to tap into rooted peace anywhere, especially since I was trained in pranayama, asana, meditation and bhakti for hundreds of hours in 2007 and 2008.   But since I stopped my practices in 2010, I haven't touched into them too often except for those rare times when I'm in nature and there are no plans to be made.  At that time, I feel a whoosh of synchronicity and my body is smiling.  THAT is what I heard in Dr. Ashwin's description of how ghee helps body, mind and spirit.  I like this treatment very much.  The four buckets of hot water felt delightful this morning.  Dr. Ashwin was right - it was just the right amount not to exacerbate my symptoms.  

In the meantime, harmful emotions and thoughts are also getting loosened up and clarified.  I've seen that I've lived a strong masculine pesence as a Taurus/Bull, lawyer/litigator, socialite trying to make sure that I'm well liked and all people are provided for.  Iin the Vedas, the right side is the masculine/sun side of the body.  The left side is the feminine/lunar/nourishing side of the body.  Indeed, I have felt scorched and imbalanced for the past several months.  My left side is very clearly telling me to nourish my feminine side -- to listen to her.  There is a purpose to be done in me through my feminine side that is being ignored.  Once I tap into that and trust it, I feel there will be great Grace, peace, power and purpose in my everyday being.  But I have to listen...

The other day, I went for an hour long walk with one of the ladies who is a 50-year old Swedish woman struggling with lifelong physical impairments due to being caught in a threshing machine as a six-year old girl.  She led the way in the sun as I followed along with my umbrella.  After 30 minutes, I had to sit down because both of my legs and feet were tingling in the sun.  It felt like electric shock pulses that were growing stronger and almost bouncing off of my legs.  So I listened and I stopped, even though I was embarrassed to ask her to take a break; after all I'm only 40 and to the naked eye in perfect health.  Not so on the inside.  I sat and focused on lovingly breathing fresh prana into my legs; I connected with and nudged the tingles down into my feet and into the earth.  The result was remarkable - it was as if I turned a jug of tingles upside down with fresh air and they literally poured out of my feet into the earth.  The connection with my nerves and my body was instant when I came from a place of gentleness and grounding and nurturing compassion.  What a gift!  I continued home for another 25 minutes and was just 5 minutes away when it happened again.  I didn't want to stop again - I was too embarrassed, so I ignored my body.  I then tripped on nothing a couple of times, once catching Ann-Catrine's shoulder as not to fall to the ground.  We were nearly home and suddenly my left hip seized up as if in protest.  It was completely stiff and I had to swivel walk to make any progress. It was as if I was a walking zombie.  Ann-Catrine apologized profusely and I told her that it was my choice and I'd simply overstretched my limits.  I made it home in this akward gait and collapsed on my bed for two hours.  I had dinner and then went straight to bed.  This was a good lesson in asserting the aggressive over the nurtuing.  Instead of pushing through, I should've honored the body by resting and giving it soothing attention to release it.  When I honored the feminine side previously, there was a beautiful, natural and nourishing relief.  When I didn't, the symptoms grew worse.  Is this not my body speaking to me directly?  Listen.  Indeed, Dr. Ashwin had warned me that during this treatment, I shouldn't walk for more than 30 minutes.  But, I didn't want to be restricted.  Dr. Ashwin sees right through it.  I trust this man more and more each day.  

The following morning, my whole body was stiff and I went up to the roof and rolled out my yoga mat.  The pre-dawn mist nourished my skin as the breath of prana lubricated my stiff joints.  Collectively, me and the dawn of nature blended to bring my body relief.  Through rooting, through breathing, through listening and nurturing my body in whatever pose felt right (and holding it for a very long, slow time), I brought my body back to health.  I feel that this is a macrocosm for what I will continue to do in my life.  Bring grace through rooting and connecting with the great source of nature; always healing; always rejuvenating - I will not stray from this practice again.  The sacred feminine left side - like the lunar energy of lubrication itself is so very rejuvenating, no matter what.  By finally paying attention in this manner, I have very much started over as a beginner with my breath and my body.  I am exploring and experimenting and re-learning that which I once taught to others.  It is very humbling and inspiring.  And feminine.

I have since walked only 30-40 minutes and have not had such an episode again.  I continue to experience emotional upswells of fear and anxiety in the not knowing, but they are growing less overwhelming as I find grace in my core.  Here, it is a soothing process.  Every morning, Dr. Ashwin brings up a cup of hot tea and hot water and gives me a blessing by touching my head and saying a prayer.  I feel like he's singing me a healing lullaby as I prepare to drink a cup of hot ghee followed by steaming herbal water.  I feel held and nurtured and cared for by a doctor who understands so much more than I do about the interconnectedness of things and the Grace of grounded healing.  Indeed, the energy of India is so vastly wise and spiritual --- again, I can't put words to it, but it's everywhere.  In the midst of MS, to have an Indian doctor give me a blessing with holy medicine designed to clear me out and connect me up with Source is the very aspect of healing that I couldn't touch as I drove from healer to healer to healer throughout the Bay Area in my search for trust.  Trust? Trust that I can heal through this.  Trust that I have the strength.  Trust that I can find the Grace.  India is a vast vessel of rejuvenating trust for me.  It undeniably shines the light back to me as the source.  If I'm unbalanced on the left, go to source to find the balance and then listen and nurture.    

Likewise, my lessons about self-created mental turbulence are increasingly clarified.  As soon as I let go of wanting to be invited in to people's experiences here, I connected bit by bit with people without even trying.  Likewise, as soon as I stopped lambasting myself for having jet lag, I realized how lucky I was to enjoy this sacred, quiet and cool type of morning all to myself.  And now, I'm sleeping in until 6:40!  I heard the woman from whom I felt actively disliked say that the 12-step recovery program saved her life and suddenly I saw her as a delicate and brave being who was on her own journey to healing.  Why would she want to give me her energy?  I'm guessing that my needy energy felt invasive.  I GOT it - in a flash.  And later that day, we had a nice chat.  Never mind WHAT her journey is, but it's not mine.  Likewise, the energies of all the people that I deal with day to day in the city and take on are not mine to become absorbed and worried about.  It's a constant drain of energy to be so sporadic with one's energy.  Of course, there are loved ones of whom this is beautiful.  But, I'm talking about virtual strangers and my preoccupation with making sure all of the ts are crossed and is are dotted all the time with everything.  When we entertain, I want to make sure everyone is having a good time and then spend hours cleaning up until the wee hours of the morning.  So often, the night has passed and I haven't connected with anyone and don't want to trouble anyone to ask for help, but feel energetically depleted.  This was supposed to be fun; instead I feel exhausted and wonder why I can't enjoy my own parties.  Recently, a friend asked if he could host a dinner at our house a few days after we had a holiday party.  The thought of it made want to crumble, but I didn't want to say no.  Matt gently suggeted otherwise, so it passed without issue, but THAT is an example of my lack of boundaries with energy in order to appease, as well as my desire for making sure that everything is lined up just right.  My housemate calls me 'The Falcon' because I notice every little thing that's out of place all the time.  That can't be healthy.  I get that.  In a flash.

As I delved into why I care so much about everybody being satisfied to the point of my own exhaustion, I realized that I have a fear of rejection.  I want to be included.  I thought abut my past relationships with people and saw a pattern.  Is it true that we re-live the same cycles of behavior and experience again and again until we simply recognize the pattern, merge with it and then let it go?  This is what I was thinking about.  As a child, my older sister wanted nothing to do with me, but I thought she was the sun, moon and stars.  I never gave up.  I still haven't.  But, there is a distance the size of Montana between us.  In first grade, the kids made fun of me for being pulled out of class for speech therapy classes.  I liked the counselor and ended up becoming a speed reader and placed in the GATE (Gifted and Talented Education Program), but I never really felt like I was like the other kids.  In third grade, the cool girls allowed me into their makeup club only after I acquired enough makeup and a purse to give to them.  In fourth grade, we moved from Morgan Hill and I was suddenly the new girl in a 'city' school.  When I wore flip flops and a torn gunnysack dress to a school outing, the kids pointed and laughed and laughed.  My sister transformed me into a cool kid, with feathered hair and painted nails, in 5th grade, but then the older girls would 'bark' and 'woof woof' at me when I walked by.  In seventh grade, I used to run to the bus after school so that the 'hair bears' - chicks with feathered ratted hair up to the ceiling and heavily made up faces wouldn't beat me up:  "I'm gonna kick your ass, bendeha!"  My best friend from 4th to 7th grade didn't defend me when her new best friend threatened to kick my ass for flirting with her boyfriend by asking him questions about himself while we were sitting across the table from echother at a big group gathering.  Finally, 8th grade was a transfer year and it took a while, but I gradually was somewhat comfortable, although never quite.  It goes on and on...basically, I've lived my life repeating this pattern.  Even becoming a lawyer was to prove that I was as smart as the rest of my lawyering family.  In fact, I never wanted to be a lawyer.  What I wanted was to be liked, wanting to be accepted, but never feeling like I fit in anywhere.  It's truly a pattern of self torment, judgment and pain.  I saw this so clearly as I sat for hours just meditating on it.  Merging with it.  Will this, too, melt away?  I believe with ongoing focus and compassion that it will.

  

What do you think lies at the root of your illness?  Fruitless energy being expended and expended and self-created and expended again.  What does my body need to heal? Learning to trust in my own being, focusing on my root, tapping into connection with the natural awareness that we all have.  Flowing.  Much easier right now in a sanctuary in nature and healing, but surely being re-introduced and saturating into my body.  The left side - the feminine side - has been hurting.  I honor her welcome her and will slowly slowly nourish her/me back to health.

Grace.

Two nights ago, Krishna Das led a kirtan for the seven of us staying here.  It was rejuvenating and soulful to sing to the deities with a man of faith.  He is a beautiful soul and I am most grateful for his gift of song.

Grace.

Yesterday afternoon, as I finished my yoga, I took the below picture of the sky.  It seemed like Mother India was reaffirming the vast possibility that comes with rootedness --- expansion into a beautiful, boundless sky of...

Grace.

  

Musings of a Muddled Outcast Mind

The mornings here are black and misty and quiet.  I've been waking at 2:00 each morning and walking out onto my balcony to ease into the darkness.  There is total silence - not a bird, not a dog, not a person...it's the perfect sattvic time of day that the rishis claim is the best time to meditate.  Ommm.  The call to prayer wails through the darkness at the crest of dawn over a crackling loudspeaker answered by howling dogs and awakened birds.  As the sun rises, the birds' songs grow louder and the darkness slips into a patchwork of golden fleeced clouds aloft an ever brightening pearl blue sky.  This morning, I stood on top of the roof deck to greet the sun and lost myself in the jungle surround-sound.  True peace.

I'd been frustrated with myself for not getting over my jetlag, but the fact of the matter is that there's no schedule - no activities - nothing that I must do, so what does it matter?  This is the peace that is so very healing...a gift.  I wish all of us could access such a peaceful place.

And yet, I find ways to sabotage the peace.  Social life here.  I was feeling badly that no one had invited me on a walk and no one accepted my offers to do the same. I was wondering why I couldn't just make a friend like I so easily do back home.  I was reminded of my childhood with my older sister - of always trying to keep up with her and having her ditch me with her friends.  In truth, I feel that a very juvenile aspect of myself has come out and it's making me feel very excluded and very sad.  And so I go out alone during the day and explore.  Another gift to have this time and space to explore when and where I want to.  Yet, I wish I was not alone.  And then I remind myself that this is not a social vacation.  Perhaps I'm not bonding with someone because the POINT of being here is to go within and heal.  

This anxiety I have is a reflection of the monkey mind that rules my stress at home with my over-booked schedule and feelings that I'm never doing enough for my husband, friends, family, health or profession.  I remind myself that I took this one huge step to India because i'm making time for health.  And believe it or not, I think this psychological stuff resulting from social stresses has contributed to my dis-ease.  This self depracation for not being cool enough, healthy enough, smart enough, or for example disciplined enough to sleep in through my jetlag, creates so much stress and anxiety where it need not be.  For Christ's sake, I'm in paradise here!  I get the morning all to myself and it's the most pristine time of day.  What a gift!  I'm here at an ashram to really go within and heal myself - it's not about giving out to others in order to share external distractions of experiences.  I am grateful.  And yet, there's a child-part of me that wishes that the kids wanted to play with me.  But are they not on their own journeys?  I must respect that and not try to barge in just because I fear I'm missing out.  I must trust the flow, focus on myself and relax.  It is a practice.  And it is an important lesson to bring back home and maintain good health.

Relax.  The past three days, I've started the late mornings (6:30/7) with a warm sesame oil massage followed by an herbal 'bath' where hot water is poured over my body on the table in order to stimulate circulation and pull out the toxins- all provided with a prayer and a blessing.  Today was the beginning of a ghee treatment (also with a prayer and a blessing) that will last from 4-7 days and consists of drinking ghee in the morning followed by a sip of hot water every 30 minutes until I have porridge when I'm hungry, then rice and veggies for lunch and dinner.  This phase will be followed by three days of heat through a sweat box or a hose or hot water depending on my sensitivity.  MS can be exacerbated by heat (goodbye Burning Man; last year was really painful!).  I'll then do one day of purgation and thus complete the detox phase.  What happens thereafter is a mystery.  The treatments are undoubtedly sweet and nourishing and soulful healing.  I can't really put it into words.  The food is also:  it's fresh, homemade and hot.  We have idly, chapati, dhal, coconut chutney, mung beans, vegetables, perfectly seasoned sauces and occasionally chai.  Our water jugs are constantly refreshed with hot herbal water for drinking.  The devotion and attention to purity and healing in this place are remarkable.  I feel very, very we'll cared for here.  

Yesterday, I took a rickshaw for 30 minutes to a nearby town of Koppa in order to get SIM cards.  It was great to pass through the verdant foliage of these mountains.  The telephone headquarters was very Indian and I was shuttled from one office to another to another with my request.  Finally, I was placed at a desk of a very disgruntled man who seemed highly annoyed and was clearly going to take as long as possible to drag this out and make my life hell.  I decided to take a chance.  'What's your good name sir?" I asked.  "Gopal Krishna,' he muttered.  "Ah, a very good name, sir.  I know a song celebrating this name, would you like to hear it?'  He grunted with a sidelong, slightly incredulous look that melted into a half smile as I sung a mantra I know from bhakti yoga teacher training in 2007 (thanks Rusty Wells!).  It was as if the sun came out and lightened up his face and attitude.  Suddenly, I had an ally to wend through the red tape and countless forms that he insisted he fill out instead of I.  The engineer on the other side of the table started asking me about life in the States as he moved items around on a huge electronic switchboard that he said controlled all of the banks' telecommunications and ATM systems.  I could've just reached over from my chair and disconnected the Bank of Karnataka's phone system with one move.  So very Indian....  Anyway, he asked what the difference was between Indian and American attitudes.  I told him that my experience is that Indians live in a constant state of Spirit with their rituals and celebrations.  Spirituality is a big part of life here.  I didn't notice such a devotional spirit in American people.  He asked if I was Christian and seemed shocked when I said I didn't have an official religion, but that nature was my God and I believed in the Universal connectedness of everything.  To that:  the universal flow, he nodded and said 'Ah, yes, I understand your religion now.  This is why you sing in Sanskrit - the language of nature and Spirit.' 

After two hours, I hopped back into the rickshaw that I'd hired to take me to town and back and ran a few more errands around town.  The shopkeepers were friendly and I received subtle stares, but nothing was threatening or uncomfortable.  I found that I easily flowed into the crazy traffic of cows, people, rickshaws and cars as I crossed from one side of the street to the other.  A chai walla was hollering 'chai garam...' and the smell of fried pakoras made me lick my lips.. Everything was chaos and at the same time very easy.  Another difference to India.  I love this place.

I returned home in time to go to the neighborhood college's 50 year anniversary.  I knew it was happening b/c the ashram family told us and because the college decided to test their sound system at 2 in the morning - it worked very very well and they tested it for a good 30 minutes.  Only in India...a group of us went over together; the two ladies in saris were swarmed by admirers and they loved it!  The scene was epic.  Massive tents with colorful ceilings of Indian designs fluttered in the breeze as hundreds of children ran around in their best clothes with doting mothers and proud fathers.  The saris were stunning and the entire affair was over the top India.  Blaring loud music, colorful elaborate flower displays, garish flags, ornate designs and decorated walls and floors with deities planted here and there.  It was a celebration like no other for me- splendorous color! And of course the ever curious children practiced rote English questions and hovered around my chair.  I was with a nice lady from PA and we fantasized about breaking into a sychronized Bollywwod dance to go along with the music and the unwavering attention from our neighbors, but that didn't happen.

A couple of gypsies from Belarus arrived at the ashram and they were sick.  They disappeared into a room for some time and had their food delivered to them rather than joining in with our communal meals.  When the man finally joined the group for a meal, the ladies tried to make polite conversation with him, but he gave vague answers.  The next day, I almost backed into him at the sink and without thinking exclaimed, 'Ah, welcome back to the land of the living, it's nice to see you up and about.  You looked nearly dead when you arrived!'  He seemed amused.  I asked his name and he said 'Estas.'  'How funny,' I said - that's the one comeback that no one can respond to.  No matter what insult or accusation someone hurls at you, you can say 'You are!' and there it is.  He said, 'Estas, no estas, none of it is real anyway' and I decided he didn't want to be bothered with conversation.  Someone asked where he was from and he said 'nowhere' and he asked where I was from.  'San Francisco'.  'Ah,' he stroked his black goatee and flipped his scraggly long mane behind his copper gypsy vest, 'I've been there for some time, I passed through...' 'Yes, it's a small town, we may even know the same people,' I mused.  'I'll say just one name...Meriana Dinkova...yes?' I asked.  His smile broadened.  'Yes, Prachanti (her partner) just invited me to go on a medicine journey with him in Peru,' he said.  'Small world,' I winked.  It gave me some comfort that I could relate to a gypsy and call one person out of 750,000 that he knew.  I may have some magic to me yet even if I explore alone most of the time around here.  I call the woman he came with 'Surya' because she's always basking in the sun and doesn't say anything?  They're an intersting pair.  I heard from Dr Ashwin that he's a famous musician who just gave a tour and got sick.  He and Krishna Das have been bonding.  They keep to themselves.

Last night, Krishna Das showed me how to drive earplugs really deeply into my ears to sleep through the noises.  That was nice of him, but I still woke up at 2.  I used his technique this afternoon and drove the plugs in while pulling my ear up and out-whoosh-it goes deep.  As he said, I couldn't even hear my fingers snap.  It was a peaceful and quiet nap.  I hope that I don't damage my ears...

As for my health - when I'm tired and I go for a walk around this beautiful place for more than 25 minutes, my arm tightens.  But mostly, I don't feel anything - no knotting or tightening - and I feel that I've really dropped into this place.  I feel that all of this social weirdness that I'm experiencing is part of dropping in even deeper.  I hear that the ghee treatment pulls up a lot of toxic material that is both physical and emotional.  I certainly feel that today.  If part of the cause of my disease is stress and anxiety over everything, will not that arise during detox.  I learned from the Bhagavad Gita that the best way out of a busy mind is to focus on one's connection to God.  Since my God is nature, it's all coming together quite beautifully.  Healing starts with relaxing the mind and going with the flow.  Got it.

There's a part of me that think this blog may be too much of giving out of myself and that I may need to reel it in for a while; Stop putting out to externalities and just meditate on being, not doing.  So, if I take a hiatus, I'm detoxing....on many levels.  Allah Akbar!

Ayurvedic Flow

This is a place of healing.  And it's surreal.  Far through the KK forest is a sweet little complex with a family that tends to foreigners via panchakarma.  There are all women here - about 10 with just one man - Krishna Das.  Yes, that one.  He hasn't sung a note since we've been here.  I asked him the one word to help integrate the lessons of India into life in the west:  Ram.  And Love.  I can dig that.

I still don't feel that I'm totally here to be honest.  There is the woo woo bird in the morning accompanied by the birds of the surrounding jungle, a snake slithers across the property at times - could be a king cobra, could be a gopher snake, tigers in the jungle that I haven't heard, but know they're there, the honking sounds of cars in the distance water being drawn from the well, roosters crowing and puja bells and low chants in the distance overwhelmed by the mosque's call to prayer echoing through dawn and sunset.  This is India.  I'm back.  And this time, in a jungle in an ashram for one purpose:  ayurveda.

I arrived two afternoons ago after a travelling marathon that ended with three hours in a taxi that drove through hair-bend turns honking and nearly careening into every passing bus and truck on a one-lane road.  Yep, right back to India.  I calmed myself by sizing up his age of roughly 40 and the ease with which he careened past gigantic TaTa trucks with never a tremor.  There's an art to Indian drivers - truly - honking to let you now that you're coming up behind you, or around a blind corner, or alongside a car, or to tell people or cart drivers that they're about to walk into your line of fire.  I remember someone telling me when I first moved into an apartment near Chinatown in San Francisco that rather than fighting the tide of people bustling through the streets, that one merely needed to surrender to the flow like a river.  My ability to walk through Chinatown without getting frustrated greatly diminished at that point.  It's similar in India - the drivers miss each other within millimeters, it seems, but there's an overwhelming flow (with honking)  to the drivers in this country.  It's nice to remind oneself of that when a passenger on these roads.  Nonetheless, to say I was relieved to get out of the car once we finally arrived was an understatement.

This is my second morning here.  Yesterday morning, I met with dr. Ashwin for an interview.  It ended up being a philosophical spiritual physics talk about life and the expectations that we have for ourselves.  He told me that my sadness is a sign of maturity.  That mature people have sadness because they've experienced so much.  And that my diagnosis is something much larger than me that plays into the vast realm of the incomprehenible.  The more disciplined we come to actually relax into the rhythms of the universe, the more able we are to heal our bodies.  He said that this is a healing place for me and that while he can not promise a cure for my MS nor guarantee that I'll get pregnant, 'we'll see.'  The first step is the commitment and you are here.'  I'm here.  I told him that there must be grace in illness and he agreed - everything that happens is divine interplay.  Do I want to surrender to this flow too?  Is that why the Indians handle chaos with such ease?  Is that why a part of me felt at home when I looked at Indians and smiled at them to receive a soulful and heartfelt greeting smile back.  There is a vibrance, a rhythm, a natural flow here that is like nowhere else on earth.  It's very easy for me to say this from my refuge in the jungle, but honestly, even in the airports there was an ease to which we all related that I truly loved.  It felt like my song and I was dropping into the rhythm with my special instrument.

Ive had two treatments thus far.  Two abhyangas - full body warm sesame oil massages and one ??? of hot herb water poured over my body.  It feels like heaven.  The doctor says I need another day of this combinatin to ground down my energy.  Indeed, my dreams are restless and I wake at 3am and then again at 4:30 am.  My dreams re frenetic and plentiful.  Last night I dreamt that I was pregnant with the baby of a professor who was proud to wal around with me and so very in love with me and the baby.  It was beautiful.  The night before, I dreamt that I had a lovely home.  These are nice dreams, and yet I also have this anxiety when I awake.  The sore throat that I wake up with belies the dis-ease with which I sleep.  I wake at least four times a night with an urge to pee and coax myself back to sleep.  This may be just a term of getting grounded.  I look forward to being there.

My first morning here, three of us went to a puja for a woman named Jen at the  Shiva temple.  She had previously asked the swami for a blessing for her travels and he told her to come back the next day for a puja.  And so we went - she brought a bag of fruit and a bag of yellow flower garlands.  The doors to the shiva lingham encased in the inner chamber were open and the shiva lingham was being washed and oiled and decorated with flowers by the chanting priest in yellow.  Fruits and notes and flowers were offered by villagers before they circled the shrine three times and then did three circles standing in one place before prostrating themselves to the ground, rising and awaiting a blessing - some flowers or pepper on the head - from the priest.  The puja lasted about an hour and the priest chanted the entire time.  He blessed the fruit and gave it to Jen.  During the ceremony, I also circled the shrine, including the adjoining one of Sati.  Here was the place where she burned to death because her father would not accept her husband Shiva into the family.  Legends are that she self combusted in deep meditation or that her father threw her into the fire for her insolence.  Shiva was so devastated that he reached into the flames and took her out, reviving her as Parvati - his main consort who had parents that did approve of Shiva.  Anyway, there was the shrine for Parvati in an even smaller chamber but she was more beautifully adorned with flowers and fruits than the lingham.  I gave her shrine special love because of the great power of women to withstand fire and come out stronger and more full of grace than ever.  Jen certainly felt blessed by India on this New Year's Day and I felt like I was in a dream of sorts.  Not quite grounded.

Indeed, the first day I woke up in India there was nearly a full moon and it was Indian New Year.  Whatever one starts on that day is strongly empowered with intention of the universe.  I tried to meditate that evening, but was still so discombobulated.  In fact, I was HERE in India at an ashram to heal and find grace in the rhythm of the universe.  I was participating.  I am here.  Even though the details of meditation in that moment weren't perfect, I was here.  That's what mattters.  Bit by bit, I recapture my practice...of self love, health, meditation, yoga and ealth.  The perspectives of India that I have are so deeply held by me.  I love this country.  I love this place.  There is something so familiar and healing and inviting here.  I've returned to partake and contribute again, but this time I'm learning to interpose them into my life in the west.  Integration.  Ram. Love.