witches brew

a tawdry truth

Been playing witness to the funny and beautiful things that are happening to me now that I’ve started up my meditation practice again. How the whole world has elegantly collapsed into the palm of my hand- everything feels more manageable, filled with more potential, a bit more sparkly. It kind of reminds me of that quote from the Alchemist, how when you discover what it is that you want, the whole universe conspires in helping you to achieve it. Suddenly the universe is my best friend, dropping tiny clues in many corners that hint at our affability. I saw a big glowing purple dot in the corner of my bedroom this morning that reduced me to sheer giggles. It was like a Blue’s Clue’s pawprint from the celestial world.  I visualize muladhara’s glowing red ball of energy when I need some grounding, and have felt from time to time significant heat building up in my root. I’ve started to pick up other signs in my external world that previously I would have only ever expected from a thorough excavation of the Tarot – the fox that looked like she was winking at me, a bumper sticker that seemed to warn me, even a spilled Chai that tapped me politely on the shoulder and reminded me not to take things so seriously. It’s been suggested to me once that the mark of pure joy is finding pleasure and empathy in the smallest of things. I find myself imparting silent blessings on the driver in the car in front of me, or truly hoping for the best outcome for someone that in all honesty I thought I couldn’t care less about.  There is an amicable density between the air and my skin; it cloaks me.

Vulpini Medicine

I was driving home from a long day in the lab yesterday and, probably because I didn't have time to run, was consumed with negative thoughts all the way up the canyon. I felt a sticky, heavy weight that hung between my ribs and dulled up my solar plexus. I couldn't get rid of this certain cycle of anxiety about something in my life i've been having trouble with. This happens to all of us, more often than we like to admit,  these toxic events, behaviors, places, foods, relationships, that help to spin an unhealthy thought pattern and create a spiral of toxicity in our lives. On this particular evening I just couldn't seem to shake it....

and then I turned the corner at dusk and saw the thick, telling tail of a fox. Bushy like a dream. I got closer and saw her white padded paws and the slender curve of achilles. It glanced at me and then quickly tore off, and I had to laugh. Vulpini, the animal that is fleeting. Reminding us of the impermanence of the present, triggers our adaptability for change. Urged me, upon seeing her, to be more cunning in the battle against my restrictions- to slip briskly away from the negative thoughts that do not belong to me, to swiftly decide against a toxic pattern and change due course.

so thank you, you fantastic mrs. fox.....

she found herself mourning Fall before it ever left her; all the rusts of the season and the Heartleaf bittercress bowing in the field, and the soft crabapples and the wind like a moths wing.

AS IF

 

have a safe, nourishing, and easy mercurial retrograde. 

ayurvedic october

 "it is the summer's great last heat,

it is the fall's first chill: they meet"

-sarah morgan bryan piatt

“It is the summer’s great last heat,
It is the fall’s first chill: They meet.”
– Sarah Morgan Bryan Piatt - See more at: http://consciouslifenews.com/transitioning-fallvata-season/#sthash.2aLc4EDE.dpuf

“It is the summer’s great last heat,
It is the fall’s first chill: They meet.”
– Sarah Morgan Bryan Piatt - See more at: http://consciouslifenews.com/transitioning-fallvata-season/#sthash.2aLc4EDE.dpuf

“It is the summer’s great last heat,
It is the fall’s first chill: They meet.”
– Sarah Morgan Bryan Piatt - See more at: http://consciouslifenews.com/transitioning-fallvata-season/#sthash.2aLc4EDE.dpuf

 As we move swiftly from the the sensuality of summer into the Vata qualities of October, I want to point out that the junction between the seasons is a critical time to cleanse and nourish the body.  Those of you who know me well  know that I don't always do so well with transitions... already I am finding dryer eyes this season, my hair feels brittle, the excessive wind that blows through my beautiful house on a hill has begun to unnerve me. I feel drastically overwhelmed. Perhaps some of you are feeling the heightened anxiety or the roughness that can be attributed to the Vata dosha.  Because Vata attributes include cold, light, irregular, dry, and always changing, right now it's really important to make choices that bring warmth, stability, and consistency into your life. To help you through this transition, try out some of these ayurvedic routines I've found and tried below. And remember, enjoy the transition knowing nothing is permanent!

• Give yourself a massage with sesame oil- my favorite fall trick. Sesame oil balances Vata dosha because it is heavier than most oils, and extremely warming.(avoid coconut oil which is cooling)
• Ginger tea
• Favor aromas that are sweet, heavy, and warm, like cloves, basil, cinnamon, sage, and vanilla.
• Favor sweet, heavy fruits such as: bananas, avocados, coconuts, figs, grapefruit, apricots, berries....
• Minimize eating raw vegetables in the Vata season. Cooked vegetables are best, and root veggies are even better.
• Spices to use: cardamom, cumin, ginger, cinnamon, mustard seed, basil, fennel, oregano, thyme
• Go nuts! Walnuts, almonds, flax seed....
• Wear a scarf. Because Vata typically is bothered by cold and wind, dressing warmly and keeping your neck warm (which is especially vulnerable to wind) can be very soothing for your body.
• Endeavor to keep a regular routine with regards to sleeping, eating, working, etc
• Nurture yourself as much as possible!!

The afternoon was crisp and cool like an apple waiting in the ice box. I slung a shawl around my pointed shoulders, a cloth dripping in weight and warmth, hoping it would keep me anchored to the earth. But as soon as I looked up I began to float- my heart rose to my fourth chakra, which tightened around its bindis. My open throat twitched and flexed. I pulled my shawl tighter but it was to no avail-  as my feet scraped across the wooden planks I arched my heels and drew in my toes, but slowly my heels left the ground and I began to sense a warm harsh air underneath my toes, where it had once met with wood and was now hovering above the planks.  My fingers quaking, they clutched first the corner of the counter and then as I was lifting drew my hands anxiously toward the next closest thing… garlic to keep me grounded, a chilli pepper to keep me present in it spindling and spiky heat. Baby tomatoes from my plant on the windowsill, plucking one by one like dreams gone by, even the orange heirloom sleeping curled like a secret at the bottom of the pot. Still I was lifting… bracing myself and baring my teeth I waited for my head to bump against the ceiling…

Then  I remembered my breath, that ancient silver key, and as I drew it through and across me I sank, heels pushing into the velvet earth, and my soles and my soul found groundedness.

The Three Beasts

I'm really grappling with the fact that everything happens for a reason. Sure, it makes it easy to surrender to a higher knowledge when something doesn't go your way, acquiesce to the bigger picture and trust in some universal benevolence, acknowlege your blindness, lift your chin regardless, and waltz on knowing that He will sweep away with grace any walls, invisible to you, that you make your way towards, arms outstretched and grimacing.

But you have to wonder.... how many perfect things have been prevented from happening because Circumstance, that great rocky beast, decided to rub her mountainous hip up on your side, or Chance that fleeting, flimsy wind decided to blow cooly on the back of your neck, or Surrender that mysterious and telling vixen saw the weakness was in your ankles and cut you at your heels? What if all three were working together to sway you, break you even?

knight of pentacles

as always the cards dont tell me anything i dont already deeply know

cheers to a heartwarming weekend

getting hands full of earths dirt

   

 

wanderlust

 

in just a few short months I get to pick up my faithful orange 70 liter (pictured below)
and travel to rural villages of Peru, where I'll be empowering young women through my black carbon initiative. each village will be outfitted with a black carbon monitoring station so they can measure their local exposure to this critical and dangerous air pollutant. 

feeling like the steps i've taken to get here have been methodical, lucky, and blessed.

if i dream of you i wake up with this thin and fleeting feeling


like maybe i was never yours at all

sometimes

the only way to see things clearly is to step back a bit

I watched him leave like I knew he was coming back, and I was right. When he finally turned around and honked his horn I was busy hiding his sandals, washing the dishes he had left behind to remove all traces of him, elbows deep in soap suds and sadness. I braced myself and headed to the driveway, wrapping myself around my jutted elbows, dripping in wetted knit. He pretended like he had made a mistake and I pretended like I didn’t want to follow him. It would have been so easy to jump into his car- I had already packed my bags that afternoon hoping he would want me to join- but I saw the way his eyes turned down and I saw- how unlike him- how his cigarette had been smoked down to the quick, he still held on to it- ashes falling and he still held on to it, it looked hot and too close to his touch but he still held on to it, and it was time to let it go. So I jammed my toes into those old clogs we shared.

I jammed my toes into those clogs and I held my chin high but this was only to keep the salted tears from being caught in the corners of my lips. I tried to visualize the red stone on the floor underneath my yoga mat, tried to call its structure into form, borrow its consistency to keep me upright and sturdy as I made my way to the front door. But all I could find in the spaces between my mind was the last cigarette I saw him smoke, how it stirred listlessly in his hand much past its prime, how it begged to be released. I saw it dropping sweet and slow and painful all at once, his hand opening like a jaw, imagined its impact upon reaching the rocks below and the sickening peace that would come at its demise.