Treating With An Open Heart

This medicine is amazing.

I have an elderly, white, male patient who told me at his initial intake that a) he was afraid of black people, b) he didn't trust his wife's lesbian doctor, and c) he left his first acupuncturist because she was Chinese and he didn't understand her or “her ways”. I stopped him short by declaring the treatment room a politics-free zone before he could finish telling me, I'm almost certain, that he was a Trump supporter.

Really.

I'm not making this up.

I smiled, thinking of my other (black, LBGTQ, etc.) patients that he'd be encountering in my waiting room on a weekly basis.

For anyone who knows me, the next logical question is, “how could I sit in the face of all that?”

Believe me, it was not seamless. It took a minute to process each statement initially and just as I was coming to terms with one of them, he'd come out with another one. Luckily, I was able to keep my face neutral.

Then it occurred to me. This is exactly the kind of patient that really needs my help - to open back up to himself and his life, to understand his body, what it's telling him and how he moves in the world.

So, I took a deep breath and looked past his ideas and listened to his story of what it meant to be him living in his body. I went ahead with my intake just like I always do. And you know what? I came to see this frightened, lost man, who still, in his 70's, was carrying and believing the negative internal dialogue his father had instilled in him. A guy whose need for extreme frugality despite his very healthy bank account, pointed to a life lived entirely under the weight of lack. It broke my heart.

And so, we began the work. Letting the beauty of Chinese Medicine lead me, I chose points to help him find center, reduce pain, appreciate what his body could do – not bemoan what it couldn't – and he began to heal. Using my SOPHIA skills, we looked at how the words that he was using to describe being alive were causing him pain and how to change them into something worth living into. We addressed his diet, his sleep habits, and all the other usual stuff. And things slowly began to change.

Then, during his 10th appointment, he mentioned that the majority of the guys in his weekly exercise group were black and that, to his surprise, he really enjoyed hanging out with them, talking and joking around. He had accidentally found a community that he really appreciated, and they weren't at all like he'd feared them to be. Wow.

This “drawing the bigger circle” thing is not for the weak of heart. My chest would ache with grief every time this man came in and I would make myself remain open, bearing witness to his pain and fear – physical and otherwise. And then that 10^th appointment came and my chest ached again, only with joy for once. Just like the Grinch, his heart has grown at least two sizes that day, and mine had too.

I guess what I'm wanting to say is that although, there's almost always more work to be done in a lot of situations -

Don't give up on people.

Be strong. Love fiercely in the face of fear masquerading as hate.

They might surprise you.

until next time,

peace,

Janice

Don't Wait For Someone Else To Draw The Bigger Circle!

In the interest of full disclosure, I am a Southern born, white female raised in a Democrat-turned-Republican household that supported desegregation and my dad was appointed to Nixon's sub-cabinet. I'm also a recovering union stage manager, recovering Southern Baptist, current Chinese Medicine practitioner, Democratic Independent and Taoist - oh, and bisexual, hetero-monochromatically married mother of a 10 year old boy, living in Baltimore. Needless to say, I've got a lot going on and there are people in my life from all across the spectrum.

That being said, regardless with whom I engage, what I'm hearing over and over again is that we all need to change how we move in the world. The time for being armchair activists is over.

Years ago, when GW got elected a second time, much to my horror, I decided I needed to know why intelligent, compassionate people, that I loved, had voted for him a second time. So, I called one of my sisters and asked.

I did not say, “How the hell could you do that?”

I said, “I'm calling to ask you a question – not to be political or to argue but because I really want and need to know the answer. Why did you vote for him a second time? I need you to explain it to me because I just can't reconcile it with who I know you to be.”

And so, she did. The conversation that ensued was eye-opening and amazing and important. We did not change each other's point of view and yet, we came to understand why we each did what we did in a way that was healing and brought us closer.

We are not all meant to get along and agree on everything. There are just too many of us on the planet for that to be feasible. As one might guess, I'm not fond of boxes. I learned years ago not to assume that people fall neatly into ideological groups by what race, profession, gender, or whatever they are. For example, I knew a a theatrical technical director that was Republican. Who knew?! And what a surprise when I learned that not all lesbians were well read, interesting people.

It is tempting, however, to want to insulate ourselves from those that think and behave differently than we do. It can be a very needed form of protection. For a while. It if becomes a habit, though, we become too insular. The circle gets too small and chokes the humanity out of us. This is why I continue to engage with people with whom I, often vehemently, disagree.

I'm drawing a bigger circle, however painful that may be. One we can all live in. Because I believe that is the only thing that can save us. I am not saying condone abhorrent behavior. I'm saying find the common ground where healing can begin. As the poet, Rumi, would say, “There is a field out beyond right and wrong. I'll meet you there.” I'm willing to meet anyone there, who is willing to do the work.

This brings me to G, whom I knew in high school and have reconnected with on Facebook. We are on opposite sides of the political and social spectrum. We are also both white. We disagree on everything from the environment to politics to U.S. race relations. There are many times I have wanted to shake him by his ears and on occasion, unfriend him. I haven't, though. Articulating the things I feel strongly about so that I hope he can hear them has taught me to hone my intention and language in a way that draws that bigger circle. It is important that our entire dialogue exists in type for all the Facebook world to see and I am very aware that our discussions are not just for us. It's like having guests over for dinner. Suddenly, everyone's table manners are better. Both G and I are very aware of the wording of our interactions and have, in the past, labored for actual months to be able to find one sentence of common ground between us.

And we found it.

Because I continue to have these types of conversations with my family and friends and strangers, I understand the fear and passion and sadness of “the other side” while honing a clearer and clearer understanding of what I hold dear and why. Were I only preaching to the choir, none of us would learn anything and the world would remain a very small place.

Through these discussions, I have not only learned more environmental science, political history, and social history but I have also gained more understanding of the lived experience of being transgender, a person of color, Muslim, Jewish, devote Christian, Republican, died in the wool Democrat, socialist, conservative, a member of the police and so many other things. Most importantly, it has informed my experience and understanding of being white, Southern, female, educated, and American, and how that impacts me and everyone around me.

It's a practice. I don't always get it right. And I keep practicing.

Because of these conversations, when I am with my friends, family, strangers and my patients, I have more ease in asking, “How are you? How are you holding up?” after the killings of unarmed black people, GLBTQ people, and white police officers - or in the case of Native Americans, knowing why not to ask, “Did you have a good 4^th?” or “How was your Thanksgiving?”.

Then – here's the important part - just listening - to their pain and sadness and anger without judgment, my heart open to the point of breaking and yet, not making it about me. If I can do this for others, then I know, when my heartbreak comes, they will do it for me because the circle is big enough for all of us and together we will heal.

The Passing On of A Friend

A couple of weeks ago, I had a shamanic healer tell me to keep a look out for a girl, a piece of paper, and an owl. Weird, I know. And he, the shaman, is a trustworthy sort and really knows his stuff. So, I have been holding that loosely in the back corner of my mind ever since.

This past Friday, when I woke up, I noticed that the world seemed quieter for some reason. Not making much of the observation, I went on with my day, went to the office to treat a few folks then had plans to go play chess with my friend, Penny.

About midday, I saw a text from my dear friend, Marty. Our beloved Vienna Hagan (formerly Helen Sacher) had died quietly in her sleep early that morning.

My heart broke open. Wide. Painful yes... and painful like bright light can be painful... not painful like a tearing away. The sensation was so different from anything I had felt before with grief, even knowing each time is different. I was awed. It was expansive not contractive. Weird. And I just let it be as I cried great gulping sobs for the loss of my friend and really, for the world's loss.

You see, Vienna was one of the great lights in the world. Her spirit – or shen as we say in Chinese Medicine – was so clear, it radiated happiness and love to the whole world. Not in a cheesy, intentional way – just by being who she was. She was a big, red-headed girl in her 40's who loved life and everyone in it. She embraced adventure and was very, very brave. Especially in the face of the cancer that finally took her life. So much so that she truly lived for over two years after being diagnosed, rather than the handful of months they gave her to survive.

As I sat looking for words to describe the expansive feeling in my chest, I looked up and there pinned above my desk amidst a bunch of other stuff was a piece of paper with an owl on it that said:

Miracles start to happen when you give as much energy to your dreams as you do to your fears.

And I began to laugh. Loudly. In equal volume to my sobs from a moment before. Vienna had such a great sense of humor! And that quote was a real smack in the head. It sounded just like her.

It became clear to me that her light had just grown so bright that a body couldn’t contain it any longer. And when she died, I had been lucky enough to get a refracted piece of that light that opened my heart wide. What joy!

I spent the rest of the day smiling. And feeling as though I had been given my marching orders. Those of us who were lucky enough to be touched by the beautiful spirit that was Vienna Hagen have a mandate. Or at least, I do. It is now my responsibility to continue to carry that joy and wonder out into the world. That is the best memorial a girl could ask for.

It has been several days now, and the feeling persists. I am no longer asking, “If not now, when?” because now is it – in a very visceral way, I am forever changed.

I wish you all much light and love and laughter. And look out for miracles...

peace,

Janice

What's on your plate?

I'm back!

Life has provided a feast of opportunities for me over the last year and a half and blog updates have fallen by the wayside. Many apologies.

On my plate, I have my rewarding acupuncture practice, my peaceful and lovely wellness center, the second year of my graduate studies in Chinese Herbs leading to my eventual Doctorate in Chinese Medicine, supervising in the student acupuncture clinic and teaching diagnostic interaction at MUIH, and last but far from least, my wonderful family.

*whew*

So, where and when to breathe?

Now.

It's all we truly have.

When a patient comes to see me, I often lead them in the following meditation:

Take a deep breath all the way down to your toes, breathing deep into your belly. 

Now, with each exhale, I want you to let go of everything up to this minute. The past does not exist except in what we say about it. And we get to tell whatever story we want to... or none at all. So, for now, just let them all drop away like rain off a raincoat.

At the same time, letting go of anything that might happen next. Letting all the what-ifs and the lists of things to do float away like a handful of balloons...

Letting all of you sink down into right now.

Pulling your awareness down through your whole body to the soles of your feet.

Noticing the spaces between your toes...

The weight of your body in space...

And giving yourself permission to stop doing... and let yourself be.

Alive and awake to this moment, 

right now,

where life is happening.

It's all we have...

and more than enough.


*ahhh...*

I'll meet you back here next time.
Unless of course, I see you in the real world before then.

peace,
Janice

Letting Go

Fall is in full swing. It began creeping up in early August and hit its height at the Equinox last week. Everyone is beginning to feel the shift. Some welcome it and others, not so much. Now is the time that we begin the energetic slope into Winter. The days are getting shorter and it's time to take stock.

The energy of Fall is all about awe and grief. The beauty of that first crisp day that causes us to gasp. It's so beautiful. The Chinese say this is the Lung taking in the "breath of heaven". And yet, as so much is letting go and dying at this time of year, there is also the grief that follows the declining of the light.

Many of my patients report either being inspired or a bit down at this time of year. Both are appropriate. The inspiration, associated with the Lung, comes from that last glimpse of heaven before we burrow into the darkness. The "down" is that pulling in of energy in preparation for Winter. This is the Large Intestine's territory. Its physical function is paralleled by its energetic responsibility to extract what is valuable and let the rest go.

There is a Chinese parable about two monks, one old, one young, who are walking along a road. They come to a muddy stretch and there they meet an aristocratic woman who is complaining loudly about not being able to get across the mud. Her servants, meanwhile, are wading through the muck, weighted down by heavy packages.
The older monk kneels down and offers to carry the woman across. She begrudgingly climbs on his back and gripes the entire way across the mud. He then sets her down and continues on his way with his younger companion.
Once they are out of earshot, the younger monk begins to complain about how rude and ungrateful the woman had been. He continues this tirade for the next hour, ending by saying, "How can you be so calm about this?" and the older monk replied with a smile, "I put her down an hour ago. You are still carrying her."

As I began writing this, sitting here in a coffee shop, I was reminded about this story. Someone whom I am still carrying came in to get coffee. We did not speak or even acknowledge each other. However, I am sure we were both aware. It took me a minute to regain my center - to not be wobbled by the mere sight of this person.

So, now it's time to walk my talk. Before Winter begins to creep up at the beginning of November, I will practice letting go of this person once and for all. I will take what's valuable from our association and let the rest go. It is a practice. By putting it in writing here, I am holding myself to it. Now is the time.

So, want to join me?
What have you not let go of? Who are you still carrying? Do you really want to lug them into the deep of Winter with you? Wouldn't it be better to make room for other things?

May the peace and beauty of the season inspire you to simplify your life - shedding people and things and habits that no longer serve you as your best self. That's my plan.

Until next time,

Janice

A Conundrum

When a friend recently asked how I would feel when a certain difficult situation was resolved, I responded by saying:

"I really, really want to get the pebble out of my shoe. I'm just concerned that once it's gone, I will forget that I have feet."

In the face of difficulty and hostility, we have the opportunity to become aware of ease and kindness. I know it sounds backwards. However, by their very absence, we become aware of them missing. And we have the chance to find the better parts of ourselves to counter them.

Of course, we can choose the knee-jerk reaction of meeting like with like. You yell at me, I'll yell at you. And in the end, that gets us nowhere. Just more unhappy.

We can also choose to bottle up that same reaction and cause physical and emotional harm to ourselves and those around us as it leaks out. Still not useful.

Alternately, struggling with meanness and self-absorption in another can allow us to face these same things in ourselves and eradicate them. To acknowledge the demonstration in another of what we are also capable of. And yes, Virginia, we are all capable of some pretty heinous acts - as well as some very tender ones.

Easily 20 years ago at my house, we were watching a PBS special about WWII. In it, there was a black & white clip of Hitler playing with his dogs. He was laughing and smiling and his dogs were bouncing around, tails wagging. A happy scene. I was stunned. It had never occurred to me that Hitler was anything but cruel and hateful. Dogs are pretty good judges of character, though, and apparently, to those two, Adolf was a nice guy - as appalling as it sounds.

We all have it in us. And we forget that to our own peril. As they say, those who do not learn from history are doomed to repeat it. Since seeing that documentary, a saying has evolved in our house. When faced with someone or a situation that we find hateful or mean, we remind each other that "Hitler loved his dogs." Shorthand for "We are all capable of great good or great evil. It is our responsibility to choose wisely."

Having said that, in this current situation that I and my family have been wrestling with, I find that I have reached the point where I just want it to go away. Unfortunately, I am afraid that the better selves that it has called us to be, will also be forgotten once it's gone. There is more than one way to live "in reaction to".

So, now, my practice, is to consciously thank the pebble while it remains... and mindfully prepare to remember my feet once it's gone.

I'll let you know how it goes.

Finally, as an old friend said to me, :Very deep grasshopper! Make someone try and 'snatch the pebble from your hand' after you take it from your shoe. :)" 

Wax on, wax off....

Until next time....

peace,

Janice

Anger Can Poison People - What's the Antidote?

I have recently spent a good amount of time with an older woman who has spent much of her life steeped in anger, colored by fear and grief, and it has poisoned her. It’s a really a tragic situation.

According to Chinese Medicine bottling up our anger causes stagnant Liver Qi. The Liver, aside from its western responsibilities of filtering toxins and such, is energetically responsible for our smooth flow of emotions – specifically anger and kindness. It’s in charge of our muscles & tendons, our ability to handle details, planning, & follow-through. As part of our Wood energy – the Liver provides motive force – similar to that which pushes the bulb up out of the ground in Springtime. It fuels our vision through our eyeballs and through our mind’s eye. Our hope for the future, our creativity – all come from this same energetic.

So, when we bottle it up, it stagnates. Like a plant kept in a glass jar. It struggles to reach the light and ends up balled up on itself and trapped. In a worse case scenario, it rots, destroying itself.

And in humans, not only can it affect our health, it can become infectious to others, if we’re not careful.

After prolonged exposure to the woman I mentioned above, I found myself getting angrier and angrier. And since I didn’t act on that anger to move it forward into something productive, it got heavier and heavier to carry. I could feel it in my joints. I was getting more frequent headaches. My ability to plan for the future was impaired. I was sighing a lot and lacking motivation and worst of all, I was sharing it with everyone around me, griping and unhappy.

Our society does not know how to get angry effectively – especially women. Anger, in & of itself, is not a bad thing – as long as it fuels growth towards the light. As long as it supports and rectifies the idea that “something is wrong here and I need to do something about it.” 

Practicing directing that aggressive urge into productive growth is one of the healthiest things we can do for ourselves and it could save our lives.

So, what did I do with all that bottled up Liver Qi? I took action. I took myself for a walk and then I spoke my mind, clearly and concisely. I was specific about what was and was not acceptable and what needed to change for things to continue in a healthy manner. I did not rage at her and yet, I let her know that things could not persist the way they were, they had to change.

I feel a lot better. My body is moving easier and suddenly, there is more room in my head for other things. I am able to move forward in partnership and kindness with this woman and sincerely mean it.

Did she like it? No. It made her mad. But it also seemed to lance a boil of anger for her. It allowed her to go ahead and feel it outright and release at least a little bit of the pressure building up inside her.

My next goal: talk her into acupuncture. It could relieve more of that stagnation and help her live more smoothly in her own skin, reducing her negative effect on those around her.

We all get toxic sometimes, even during Summer, the time of joyful partnership in the Fire energetic. Being able to move smoothly from that sudden urgent push of Spring into the joyous partnership of Fire isn’t always easy for some people. 

So, if you’re feeling pent up or frustrated, take yourself dancing – even if it’s in your own living room. Find ways to act on those impulses that allows for more creativity and joy and partnership in the world.

And call me for some acupuncture, if you need a little help getting started. I’m here to help.

Happy Summer Everybody!

(and please share this with anyone you think will benefit)

peace,

Janice