Living Soils class reflection: deep nourisment

I feel like I slipped and fell, landing right in Living Soil. When I think back to the beginning of my Living Soils journey, I was living in a fog. Over the past two and a half almost three years I have experienced so much emotional and physical trauma, so many dramatic life changes, that I have felt like I’ve been floating through my life, not really able to think about my future without a surge of terror and pain, not quite here. Floating. My poor distracted brain trying to negotiate and understand such dramatic life changes and challenges that more of my energy was taken up with these inward processes than the outward process of life itself. This summer, I broke my foot. Badly. I was on crutches for 12 weeks (double the length of time for a “normal” bone fracture). My independence was stripped, I was unable to transport myself, unable to do many mundane, everyday tasks without assistance, could not get to my beloved mountains, could not “blow off steam” through any form of exercise (which had become my life-line for negotiating grief, depression, anxiety, as well as providing myself with the therapy of physical movement—attempting to match the turmoil and chaos that raged within). Although there is never a good time to be down with a severe injury, the summer time seemed especially difficult for me as it marked the second anniversary of the sudden and tragic death of my father. Emotional pain fueled physical pain, physical fueled emotional….I struggled with depression and apathy; it was impossible for me to exist in the present moment so I spent much of my time thinking about all the amazing things I would be able to do once healed. I had to up my dosage of pain medication around the anniversary of dad’s death as I struggled on many levels to make it from one day to the next. I tried with all my might to keep a healthy attitude; I wrote gratitudes in my journal, I spent a lot of time reading in the sunshine, soaking up the beauty of this place I call home, I continued to practice yoga daily (learning to become quite creative in my practice), I spent a lot of time soaking at Amaya, and I began to come to Turtle Lake Refuge for lunch more and more frequently. I learned more about plant medicine and bone health and healing; developed a profound relationship with comfrey (among other helpful plants), and continued to remind myself that the universe was teaching me powerful lessons about slowing down, literally, for a reason. But despite all this, I was struggling, I was numb, I was floating. Someone told me about Living Soils….and I thought why not? I was planning on completing my 200 hour Yoga Teacher training in the fall through Yoga Durango. I‘ve always been interested in holistic health, as well as spending lots of time in the mountains and woods….i had had an introduction to the wonderful world of wild plants and plant medicine through Deb Buck when she taught at a yoga and dance retreat that I participated in as I was taking my first steps, still supported by a single crutch…and I had loved the idea of developing a relationship with the plants. Deb introduced us to the idea of plant communication, and led us through a journey to the underworld meditation. I was impacted profoundly by that first plant journey, where I met and spoke with comfrey herself. I left that retreat feeling more grounded, more present, and more fully myself than I had in a long time…. And yet I still had (still have) so far to go. I did not even realize how fragile, vulnerable, feeble, and lifeless I had become until I began to slowly emerge, to build, to grow, to strengthen over the past several months. I feel so vivacious, so strong, so energetic, so positive, so vibrant now. I feel more deeply myself than I think I have ever been. I feel loved, supported, nurtured, whole. What a journey this time has been for me. I now realize, as I reflect, what a crucial part of my healing this class and this community have been. My journey to Living Soils, I’ve said, began when I broke my foot. But I think it began much before that. I’ve always had a passion for health and learning about nutrition, alternative therapies, and “kitchen cabinet medicine”—i.e. using plants and foods to heal. I am grateful, now, as I look back, that I had built up such a strong support network for myself before my dad died, of naturopaths, healers, and friends. Because after his death, I could hardly take care of myself—daily tasks such as eating, getting out of bed, showering became huge mountains to climb. I had trouble connecting with friends and community—I just could not understand daily life and daily experience when my entire experience consisted of terrible pain, horrifying memories, shock, disbelief, and the struggle to simply continue putting one foot in front of the other. My world felt foreign, lonely, desolate, boring. I tried to remind myself constantly of the beauty—of the power of love that I could feel so terrible. But it was difficult. Still is in moments. But no I can look back on those initial weeks and months of darkness with joy and love and say “look how far I’ve come”. I think the experience of losing my father has enabled me to now connect on a much deeper level to community, to joy, to health, and to life. The person I am now is very different from the person who lost her father. I am stronger, happier, more positive, more vibrant, more able to let the little stuff go, more present, more loving… and most of all more grateful for every precious moment. In many ways, I think the experiences of the past two years prepared me to really explore and discover, to connect, to take in and to let go of the ideas, relationships, and experiences of this class. Most importantly, I’ve learned to be more authentic to myself; this class deepened that ability as it both pushed me and nurtured me. When I came to Living Soil I was hungry. I was hungry for nourishment--my soul bruised and exhausted. I was hungry for community and support and love; most importantly and deeply I was hungry for self-love. And now, as I write this, tears run down my face because I realize how much more than a “food class” the experience of living soil has been for me. I have been deeply, deeply nourished. Mind. Body. Spirit. All. And I am so deeply grateful to have had such an opportunity to learn, for the sake of learning and exploration, at a time when I was so ripe for it. I am so grateful to have been in an environment that enabled me to learn to love myself. Deeply. There were moments during class when I wondered why I was taking it, times when I felt pushed outside of my comfort zone, times when I did not want to know because I wanted to stay within my comfort zone and I was told that I was hurting myself by doing so. I felt pushed away from raw foods when Kevin and Isabelle taught (I’ve since found out many of us had that reaction) because of the radical and aggressive energy they brought to class. I tried to tell myself that I appreciated their energy and enthusiasm, as I rebelled in the following weeks cooking more and eating more animal products than usual….but in the end I learned a valuable lesson from them. I discovered that lecturing people and trying to force your view of health, nutrition, what we should be eating on others often times backfires because you are taking no time to appreciate the other, the audience, the patient. I have found in my own experience that approaches like Dr. Nicola’s have the most profound impact on people. I have most especially found this with myself. There have been moments during this class when I’ve tried to make radical changes in my food and nutrition choices, only to fail miserable, then feeling badly about myself I end up far in the opposite direction from where I was trying to go. I have found that if I am more compassionate, loving, understanding, and realistic with myself and my needs, I tend to naturally gravitate toward healthier choices. And I’ve managed to stick to my motto through-out the class: everything in moderation, even moderation;). That means that I allowed myself to eat crackers (gluten free with lots of healthy seeds and yumminess) with cheese and avocado after dinner because I was still hungry and my body was craving fat and protein; that I enjoyed my glass of wine tonight. And that I refuse to judge myself even if I go on a major junk food binge (which is happening less and less as my body is beginning to crave healthier foods and most especially green drink). I say to myself: oh that’s interesting. Aren’t I cute. And I move on. Let it go. Get back to being joyful and free. Yep, I’ve brought my yoga practice into my food practice☺ what a beautiful marriage. One class that sticks out in my mind is the one with Pat Blair. I loved her advice to “follow your giddy”. And Katrina: I so appreciate your wonderful positive energy. You are so, so joyful and encouraging of others, and you bring a wealth of healthy foods and ideas to others… without ever making other people feel judged, or like you are pressing any sort of agenda upon them. I am so grateful to have such a wonderful mentor, role model, and friend. I realize, as I write this, how much I learned about health and happiness and how connected they are. I am so grateful to have had such positive influences and motivation during a time in my life when I am re-defining who I am and the daily choices I make. All of our instructors contributed to my healing, growth, and self-discovery. Whether instructors made me run the opposite direction, or want to be just like them, I learned something valuable; I learned to listen to my inner teacher more and more closely, I learned to experiment and explore and that I do not have to do anything by anyone else’s “book”. I learned to allow myself a bit more wildness, freedom; and I learned how to nourish myself even when I feel so utterly depleted I don’t quite know what to do. I learned that a big liter of green drink can go a long way towards revitalizing every cell in my being when I’m run down—whether its from too many hours spent in the hospital helping my mother through surgery, or from many miles of exploration on my bicycle or running. I have learned that it takes a community to support the individual—whether we are talking about plants or humans. I have learned to continue exploring, discovering, trying new things, always checking in with the Self. And I have learned to always to stop and question and check in with Self and with Mother earth. I have learned to reach out my arms, to open and expand my heart, and love comes running right into my embrace. I have learned that love really does make this world go round. I have been told that for a while I was standing with one foot in life, this life, and one foot in death—the other side. I know this is true as I look back on the past two years of putting one foot in front of the other. The fogginess. The terrible anger. The uncontrollable tears. The feeling that my chest was ripping into a million splinters of glass. The chaos. The alienation. The aloneness. The loneliness. The fear. And. Yet. The joy. The gratitude. The connection. The love. I have learned to connect ever and ever more deeply to my own “divine courage, freedom, and Light” (hafiz). I have learned to let others in… and the vital role of community and love in healing. I have learned to allow plants, as well as people, to help me heal, to guide me toward my deepest needs, and my deepest fulfillments. I have learned to be flexible, fluid, and child-like with my curiosity and desire to learn, explore, and discover. I have learned that the worst thing I can do for myself and others is to become rigid and firm in my beliefs. I try to remain graceful and fluid like the wind and the waters of this planet. I dance upon this beautiful earth with joy. I open my arms and my heart for all the world; whatever experiences come my way I try to embrace with love and gratitude. I think the words of Hafiz profoundly explain my experience: my deep learning not only about foods, nutrition, and health but of life and the human experience. So I leave you with the words of a poem, read to me for the first time by Katrina herself, as we gathered, celebrating life, community, love, and wildness outside the dream cave last Wednesday evening. If the falling of a hoof If the falling of a hoof Ever rings the temple bells, If a lonely man’s final scream Before he hangs himself And the nightingale’s perfect lyric Of happiness All become an equal cause to dance, Then the Sun has at last parted Its curtain before you— God has stopped playing child’s games With your mind And dragged you backstage by The hair, Shown to you the only possible Reason For this bizarre and spectacular Existence. Go running though the streets Creating divine chaos, Make everyone and yourself ecstatically mad For the Friend’s beautiful open arms. Go running through this world Giving love, giving love, If the falling of a hoof upon this earth Ever rings the Temple Bell. Thank you Katrina, thank you to everyone who was a part of Living soil for giving love, for giving love. And for nurturing me back to myself. Back to health. Back to love. Back to Self. I am oh so grateful for this wonderful community, and this wonderful knowledge I have discovered.