Where's Your Valve?

Some people who know me, know that I am reluctant to say I have beliefs.

I prefer to say, "possible scenarios I am currently entertaining".

One such scenario is that about Oneness, and that we are all expressions of such.

And not just expressions, but conduits, vessels, to channel the grace of Oneness to the physical plane in order to to help each other remember and relive that experience that we so long for.

So, I got to thinking about power the other day, prompted by an observation made during a session by a client.

She was remarking how powerful my hands felt, with a small degree of awe.

For me, being 5' 1'', and not exactly the most noticeable, outgoing, assertive ... (shall I go on?) person in the room - in fact, I've prided myself on achieving invisibility, more by default - this felt strangely good to hear. "Powerful' is not a self-descriptive term I would reach for.

Normally I would have brushed it off, but in that moment, I let it sink in, and allowed myself to really try on that description of 'powerful'.

Oh my gosh! What if I am? What if I've been totally mistaken about the reasons behind some of my relationship issues... that it's not so much because I'm a wimp, but because I am too afraid of letting my power loose?

And then I had this other thought, one I've mentioned before, about how I'm fearful of making people uncomfortable, and yet, here I am in a profession that requires me to get in people's spaces and make them feel uncomfortable.

I still struggle with this.

But what occurred to me how this affects me physically. Coming on the heels of my last post, about using my hara to inform my sessions, and ideally express the fullness of my being to my receiver by really leaning into them, I noticed when I don't do that - when I hold back - my left shoulder and neck lock up. And my breathing gets shallow.

It's like ... closing up a valve.

It isn't tension as a result of poor body mechanics, it's where I stop the flow.

And I'm thinking this happens in other places too, in other situations, and with many other people.

If we are, indeed, by nature, channels of the divine... if that's what our bodies, and tissues and cells are REALLY created for.. if our sole purpose is to express our particular frequency of divinity, then it would stand to reason that when we hinder that flow, we're gonna feel it in our physical bodies.

Our shoulders, our gut, our throats, our hearts.

So, what it means, what it feels like to me, is that it's not really 'my' power I'm afraid of expressing or owning. My real power is in how willingly I allow divinity to flow through me.

It reminds me of when I was in labor with my first son.

When it came down to the final stages, my body knew what to do, and what I remember taking away from that afterward was that the most effective role I could play was to stay out of the way and allow it to happen. My second guessing, or rushing, or even 'helping' did nothing but hinder the process and cause me discomfort.

And while this seemed passive, it was the hardest thing I had ever done. Allowing the fullness of the forces of nature inscribed in my DNA to do its thing was humbling to say the least.

Let's Play.

There's a lot here to consider. I'll leave it at this for the moment, but I invite you to try seeing your own aches and pains, tension, frustration, anger, fatigue as an indication that you may be holding back from allowing your power and purpose to flow through you.

Daily Om

Put Your Hips Into It

A simple technique for making things a little easier.

Proper shiatsu-giving is all about working from the hara... the area of the lower abdomen, the center of gravity, and as far as the Japanese are concerned, the seat of intuition (referred to in the west as our 'gut feelings').

From the perspective of good body mechanics, when treating someone, you always want to keep your hips close to and directly aligned with what your hands are working on.

I forget this sometimes, and will find myself straining in odd positions, or extending just a little too far beyond my reach.

When my body says, "Hey.. um, ouch..?", most times, all I'll have to do is torque my lower body slightly so my hara is facing what I'm doing, and it's like a palpable "click"... back strain disappears, arms are relaxed, and I'm back in control of myself.

I've created a shorter distance between my hands, which are listening, and my center, which is interpreting and guiding.

Working from the hara means that it is mostly driving the pressure. In other words, I'm not pushing into someone with my fingers or even my arms and shoulders. My hands simply become and remain an extension of my center, which not only informs me much more intelligently about how to proceed, but feels infinitely better for the person on the mat.

Hara de ... kangaroo???

No, silly. Hara de kangauru is a Japanese phrase meaning, "to think with one's hara".

And hara de yam, is "to act from hara".

This is a key precept not only of shiatsu, but in the martial art of Aikido.

We may think of this primarily in terms of the dynamic of acting in relation to another person, but at the heart is the discipline of mastering one's own energy and staying in center.

It's about not allowing yourself to be pulled away from the task at hand by meandering thoughts, multi-tasking, other people's agenda and dramas.

Commit the hips and the mind will follow.

There's the straightforward physical lesson here... that of good posture and body mechanics.

If you're currently sitting at your desk, notice your body. Where are your hips in relation to what you're working on? Are you sitting straight with feet on the floor, or are your legs crossed or off to the side?

Shift yourself in various positions for brief periods of time as you work on a task.. whether at your desk, or washing dishes, or talking with someone. Notice what happens to your attentiveness as you either fully face or move away away from what you're dealing with.

Let's get engaged!

Then there's the life lesson.

Interesting to note that the second chakra, the one dealing with being present in your own body, is located in the center of the hara, the tan dien.  When you bring your awareness to your hara, and you bring it into the conversation, you are essentially saying to whatever or whomever: "Here I am. I'm paying full attention. I am present."

And when you are present and engaged, everything seems to flow, does it not?

Try it for a day. For an hour. Get up and right now and move about your space, walking, standing, lifting, reaching, interacting.. all with the intention of "hara de yam"... acting from the hara.

Need a visualization?

Picture your lower abdomen in 3-D. See your pelvis structure as a bowl holding a ball of light or energy. This is your hara. Place your hands on the place below your navel. Take a few breaths, allowing this area to expand with each inhalation, and imagine the ball of light glowing brighter with each breath.

Imagine the ball having weight, and stand with your knees loose, bouncing a little to allow yourself to sink in the ground and root with the hara's solidity.

Shift your weight from side to side. Now try moving around the room again with this awareness.

Are you feeling it?

**As Gina's mind goes wandering off on tangents, she wonders if there's more than just coincidence between 'kangauru' and kangaroo... given that the hara/tan dien/second chakra is the area where babies gestate, and where marsupials, such as kangaroos, carry their young.

Hmmmmm.....**

D.I.Y.

In case you have no patience to read through this, this post will eventually get to the point of touting the benefits of self-massage. Go ahead and skip to the bottom if you want.

So, I went to my family doc yesterday, for a long-overdue check-up as well as for some other questions I had.

First, you must know about our doctor. He's based in an anthroposophic community. He is an MD but also a homeopath, and we've been going to him for about 15 years. One thing I've been grateful for is his sane, relaxed viewpoint concerning vaccinations, antibiotics and overuse of medical treatment in general... so much so, that we were actually joking recently that we'd appreciate maybe a little more intervention once in a while. His most common response to what ails ya is, "Are you eating enough vegetables?"

His practice is located in a restored barn, if that gives you a better picture.

But I called anyway, even though I expected I might have to ask, beg, plead for  a round of tests to be done. (Note: yes, I will tell you that I do feel a need, at times, for some degree of western-style qualifying of symptoms. It's a fine line... one that even I'm not sure where it's drawn, but I feel more secure with both an Eastern and Western perspective. Integrative, I believe it's called.)

I was told on the phone that our doc had a new partner, a woman, and would I prefer to see her. Sure! I said, hoping that I clicked with her better than the last woman doc, the details of which I won't discuss here.

So, imagine my delight upon learning that even though she is a western-trained family physician, who worked on an Air Force base for eight years, she is currently studying Ayurveda, practices yoga and meditation and sees the wisdom in the ancient Eastern perspective of body/mind/spirit medicine.

Can I get a whoo hoo?

After a blessedly long and thorough intake process and an agreement to do some blood tests, she diagnosed my dosha imbalance - the one that predictably involves lack of groundedness and my head being in the clouds - and gave me some recommendations, such as an almond drink recipe, a breathing exercise and instructions for self-abhy.

Abhyanga is a self-massage routine that involves rubbing the entire body (gently or vigorously, depending on the imbalance) with oil... in my case, vigorous and using warmed sesame oil, as I have a tendency toward being cold.

I've talked before about the benefits of self-massage, as we have a similar practice in shiatsu, called Do-In.

As stated on the Chopra Center website:

"When stimulated through therapeutic touch or massage, the skin releases a pharmacy of healing chemicals that have health-promoting effects on the physiology. In addition to feeling good, regular massage and loving touch detoxifies the body’s tissues, increases circulation, calms the mind, and enhances immune function."

I tried it this morning, and I was indeed amazed at how warm and vibrant my body felt afterwards, even after my shower. Not to mention how thrilled I am to have a doctor that I think I can work with.

Here are the Chopra Center's instructions for self-abhy.

And here, again, is my blurb on Do-In, with a downloadable PDF.

Oh, and here is my post about my previous ayurvedic experience. Good stuff.

For the Love of the Game

So, I went off on a little tangent yesterday when writing about my sudden interest in baseball, that had less to do with the game, and more, shall we say, with the players.

But, seriously, with the help of my husband's commentary, I gained a huge appreciation for this cliché American pastime.. one could even say, I totally GOT it.

Far from what for most of my life appeared to be a hell of a boring activity to watch, it was actually filled with intrigue, strategy, tension, mind games, and the fascinating interaction of dynamic personalities in a very highly-pressurized situation.

I marveled at the rhythm of compression and activity, the yang and the yin... as the intensity would build between pitcher and batter, and then be released with a whack of the bat, exploding into activity out in the field.

Like the one-on-one of tennis or martial arts, it would all come down to two guys (or three, if you count the catcher, who also held a crucial place in this part of the dance)... and a momentary but intense interplay; a meeting and clashing of training, skills, and ego.

But then with a swing and a crack, the rest of the team, already focused and ready to come into play, would spring into action, working together seamlessly like a finely tuned machine.

Simply glorious.

As I watched, I tried to contemplate what lessons I might take away from this experience.

I imagined that there were already a great number of metaphors between baseball and life... such as the wisdom in playing the short game, instead of trying to hit it out of the park every time... blah, blah, blah.

So, I took it to a more personal and somewhat spiritual level.

It may have been a coincidence that the first game I got into was on Halloween night. There had been several twitter conversations about costume-wearing being a mode of psychological healing... the act of dressing up and temporarily but completely embodying an estranged aspect of yourself.

I walked around the neighborhood that night wearing a Phillies cap, disguised as a fan.

Funny how complete the transformation had become. Suddenly, with a piece of branded headwear, I now became identified with a certain group. And by implication, I was also in direct opposition to another group. 

Which was weird and somehow arbitrary. But also a little exhilarating.

The irony being that I've been spending a lot of time and energy on cultivating my awareness of one-ness, and now I just threw myself headlong into one of the most divisive mindsets of our modern society... beside politics and religion: I became a sports fan.

Suddenly one of my favorite twitter buds became an 'enemy'.. playfully of course, but still, there we were, hurling public insults at each other.

And as I watched the other team, because of my recently-acquired loyalty to my own, they appeared to me to be aggressive, ugly, and obviously worth defeating. Preferably shamefully.

Even though I was well aware that if they were my home team, or even playing anyone else, because of their obvious skill and fortitude, I would be totally rooting for them and celebrating all of those previously undesirable qualities.

How interesting. To now have preferences and aggression and emotional investment and hotly debated opinions and concern over outcomes and a willingness to lose sleep -- all because of a choice to identify with a group of people.

A game for the ego to revel in.

A game which I have the luxury of easily divesting myself from.

But, then, it's all a game, really.

Isn't it?

Brace Yourselves

I've been thinking about you, and about the many of you who have in come in seeking relief from those places where you hold all your tension.

I have those places too. Neck, shoulders, sometimes my stomach.

And so my question is, if we weren't holding it there, or anywhere, what might that feel like?

I'm guessing the first response would be, "Well, it'd feel great! Duh.."

But here's the thing. There's a reason why we do that. Why we tense up, clench up, brace parts of our body.

It feels safer. Yeah, I know. Weird. This has been referred to as 'body armoring', and without going into huge detail here, the term was coined by controversial psychotherapist, Wilhelm Reich, to describe conditions in the physical body where repressed childhood memories are chronically held.

Psychological trauma aside, I have also read that we tend to tense up as a means of creating a sense of stability in our bodies when faced with difficult situations. Like someone yelling at us. Or driving. Or dealing with any kind of stress, until this becomes an automatic and ingrained response and condition. It's as if in response to the external chaos we're facing, we create solidity in our bodies so as not to feel blown over or swept away.

While we can imagine experiencing tremendous relief in having those tension-holding muscles released, we may also feel strangely vulnerable and insecure. Especially if we were to be in those trigger situations again, without the response of bracing ourselves.

So, again, what might that feel like?

Maybe it's helpful to remember that our nervous systems and bodies are responding to every day situations as though they're more threatening than they are, because they remind that deeper part of our selves that feels like something life threatening. Being yelled at as a kid was scary. Seeing adults out of control was terrifying. Overstimulation and invisible monsters under the bed can still affect us as adults.

What might it be like to pay attention to the breath and the body and maintain a state of relaxation in the face of stress (provided it wasn't endangering), and fully felt the emotions that arose, no matter how uncomfortable?

Maybe it would help to remember that we're adults now. Maybe it would take some practice in bringing awareness to the situation and directing your focus in a different direction.

Like on your feet. Feeling yourself rooted in the earth. Gracefully poised and relaxed, but stable and secure.

Or on your core and center. Secure in the unshakable truth of who you Really are.

Both of these require some practice and mastery outside of stressful situations so that they can be called upon easily in times of need. And like with anything, awareness is the key. Notice when your shoulders tense up, your jaw clenches. Breathe into those places and let go.

So, now let me ask, where do you hold your peace?

Like this? You may also dig:

Under Pressure - Turtle Syndrome

How Does Your Life Feel?

Under Pressure - Grounding

The Fifth Element

3 Unrelated Lessons That Have Little To Do with Shiatsu

I'm going to start out this post by stating something highly controversial.

I love Comcast.

Well, more specifically, I love their customer service. In my 8, 9, oh, I don't remember exactly how many years since we've switched over from another unnamed phone/internet company, I haven't had one negative contact experience with them.

Aside from the high prices, as if I even have any context by which to determine that number, and a sneaky move they pulled six months ago of offering a "loyal customer discount" while at the same time adding on services we didn't ask for and raising the prices just slightly above that discount (got that taken care of just by asking)... they've been a joy to deal with.

One helpful guy, upon determining that our modem had fried, not only looked up and gave me directions to the nearest Comcast office so I could get a replacement, he called back twice (twice!) when I returned to make sure I got it up and running. After I thanked him, he shared his perspective that why shouldn't he have fun and enjoy doing his job well? What would be the point otherwise?

Indeed.

So, there are several points I'm trying to make in this post... a typical blogging no-no.

One: sincere and actually-helpful customer service is worth paying for. For me, anyway. And it usually works out nicely for everyone involved.

The second lesson was to examine the source of negative expectations.

I had a situation come up recently which warranted a call to Comcast. In spite of everything I just said above, I was hesitant to call, and expected confrontation of some sort. The only reason I can see most likely behind this was some complaining I had heard recently from other people who had dealt with them. There was no other reason to expect my call to go badly, except I let these voices get to me.

And I dread making phone calls as it is. See?

I put off dealing with them, even though my issue was time critical. And then I put it off and put it off some more. And then created a contingency plan should my call, when I finally did make it, would not go too badly.

Finally I screwed up my courage, and complained on twitter about having to call them. (See how proactive I am? My passive-aggressive self knew that if I even mentioned their name, someone would promptly respond, ready to help me. Took all of about 45 seconds. And I totally avoided 15 minutes of navigating irrelevant voice mail options...)

I explained to Comcast Twitter Guy my situation in 140 characters or less. He took my phone number, saying he'd look up my account, and then I didn't hear from him again.

Until this morning, when I got a call from Comcast saying they got my tweet, they dealt with my issue and all is now fine and dandy. What the heck was I worried about?

Which brings me to lesson three, in which I'm finding procrastination sometimes works really well for me.

Or, we can call it 'a trust in the natural flow and rhythm of the universe'. Yeah. That's it.

(What does this have to do with shiatsu? Well, not much. Except for a new tact I'll be trying out in the near future in which I not only own up to being a lazy shiatsu practitioner, but create a whole marketing angle around it.)