Encountering Starling

Gorgeous Spring weather, a week before the Equinox, has my windows open and the screens not yet in place. I come home from an early outing to find a starling frantically keeping out of paw's reach as my cat, Lucy, in full hunting mode, is tracking her. The starling, whose home, typically, is in one of the big oaks on my street rather than in the confines of my little fifth floor apartment, seems to have established a route through the house; various perches from the top of my bookcases in the living room to the top of the big framed mirror in the entryway, to the top of the kitchen cabinets, then back the other way as Lucy stalks her. All very exciting (for Lucy), and frantic (for the trapped starling). I am happy for Lucy. Not much adventure in her life these days, but I am distressed for the starling who I have no idea if I'll be able to coax out of the house. And then there's the inevitable deposits of birdshit I'm likely to be finding.

My first task, much to her consternation, is to get Lucy into the bedroom and close the door. Then, I make an effort to send a wave of calmness to the bird. I assume an attitude of complete indifference, keeping my focus away from her as I begin to plan an exit strategy. I am already grateful for whatever powerful message Starling medicine holds for me. When the bird is free, I'll be looking at my books and online for information about Starling medicine! But first things first. Free the bird! My kitchen window is the biggest window in the house. It opens onto a fire escape so getting to it involves unlocking the gate I have installed -- a sad reality of city living. Gate open, I pull up the bottom half of the window as wide as it will go, which seems plenty wide. The bird flies directly into the top half. Somehow, she regains her perch on top of the kitchen cabinet and, sitting with its beak wide open (is this starling for "I just bashed into a not terribly clean window pane. I'm embarrassed, pissed off, and my head hurts...."?), seems to be waiting for my next move. Continuing my attitude of disinterest, I close the bottom half and open the top, kicking myself for not thinking like a bird. What must it be like to actually fly!! Up! think "Up!". I step away, all the way to the door of the kitchen which is the farthest point away from the window. I hold up the sweater I’ve been wearing to discourage the bird from heading this way. I have the pleasure of seeing her take her leave. I cheer and clap and feel jubilant. This has all taken, perhaps, five minutes, from my walking in the door to the the bird gaining its Freedom.

I let Lucy out of the bedroom and watch her as she searches the house for the intruder. Ultimately, homebound creature that she is, she's distracted from the prowl by her food dish where she makes short work of what remains of her breakfast. The house settles down. I close some windows, put screens in others and go to my computer to start work. But first Starling Medicine. What wisdom, what story, what instruction, does this encounter hold for me?

Starling – birds that fly in great flowing swarms, creating living waves in the sky. Surely, they are masters of community. What caused this individual to pierce the veil between our worlds? I will be thinking and dreaming on this encounter for a good long while. Right now, I find myself focussed on what Starling offered me: an opportunity to take action without thinking, to move quickly, efficiently; to be fearless and precise in the care of three different species; to have my attention brought to bird-mind (Up, silly! Up!); to be an agent in a story with a happy ending involving freedom.

I know there's more here to know from this encounter. I'll be watching for how Starling shows up in the coming days. Stay tuned.

40 days and 40 nights + 325

Exactly a year ago today, I began the journey that continues to be an adventure of growth, discovery, and transformation. Yesterday, incredibly, and without my consciously realizing its relationship to last year's journey, I began a 10-day kitchari fast. I'm not sure I would have begun yesterday if not for a dear friend and soul sister asking me if I had any interest in joining her on a fast/cleanse. I'd been thinking about doing another one -- using it as a kind of "re-boot" because I've been revisiting old, less-than-healthful ways I have with food -- but I hadn't really settled on when to do it. Her invitation opened the door and we agreed to start on 8/8/2011. The numerology felt right and neither of us could think of a reason that the Mercury Retrograde would make this harder.

And so, last night, when I made an effort to post a blog entry here, I discovered the synchronicity of the timing (is that a redundancy?). I thought to pick the blog back up when I recalled how grounding, how steadying it was, and how posting entries here helped me to remain conscious during the nearly six weeks of the rigorous practice of feeding myself in ways I never had. I thought it would be good to again give myself this container. And so here I am. Day 2.

This year, I'm having to kick caffeine and sugar, which I didn't last year. Where last year I felt mentally "sharper" on day 2, today...not so much. But I do feel lighter, easier in the rest of my body. Last year on day 2, I'd put my back out shlepping jars of kitchari that I'd prepared in my friend Grace's kitchen. Incredibly, I was again at Grace's this past weekend, and I again made kitchari. This time, though, I gave what was left of it to her, came home, and made a fresh batch. So, different challenges -- last year the back, this year, the caffeine withdrawal. And, truth be told, as I write this at 1:30pm, I no longer have the headache. One little excedrin at 2:30 this morning seems to have gotten me over the hump. I seem to need to be less strict this year. Last year, I wouldn't have taken excedrin. Interesting altogether. My commitment in life remains to work for the Repair of the Planet. Last year, I came to understand that I had been willing to abuse my body in parallel ways to how the Earth is abused. The 40-day fast was a commitment to the Earth Mother to tread lightly, live simply, and practice the Repair of the World in the big and small acts of practicing the Repair of my body. Over the counter drugs seems like a bit of compromise there. But for whatever reason I could manage it last year, I could. Hopefully, I will take the lesson and move on. I'm spending less time in guilt or even shame. Clarissa Pinkola Estes says in A Dangerous Old Woman that "Wisdom is what works." She goes on to say that what works changes either in the very next moment or over longer periods of time. I like this teaching. It allows for an excedrin.

Another teacher for me today is Eve Ensler. This is intense, but very valuable. Click Here for an amazing TED talk.

Blessings on you all! Thanks for reading!

40 days and 40 nights — Day 40 + 14

6:45pm Sundown in 19 minutes, the start of the Sabbath. Two weeks since I ended my fast. Two weeks of exploring new terrain. I have been going very slowly with respect to figuring out how to eat. Mostly, I've kept a pot of kitchari handy. The only non-plant based food I've eaten is eggs, and not very many of them.

Three things stand out for me.
Number 1. I have missed writing this blog — missed reflecting on the days as they passed. Through this blog, a web of support formed around me — something that made the whole endeavor possible, something I would wish we all could have all the time. Yesterday a dear friend and teacher who had been following the blog, wrote me to say she missed it and suggested I write an entry to catch folks up. She presumed that if she missed it, others might too; others might want to know what has been happening for me in these two weeks. I'd been missing it too but felt that I couldn't yet deliver the postscript I'd promised on Day 40. I'd imagined it would be a deeply thought out essay where I would have thoroughly analyzed everything that had happened along the way and I would be able to say, unequivocally, the ways in which I was transformed by the experience. That notion, conceived within the safety and spaciousness of the fast, was swallowed up by a maelstrom of busyness that descended as soon as I stepped outside of its comfortable confines. Which leads me to...

Number 2. The 40 day fast which I had envisioned for myself was like nothing I'd ever experienced before. It was a framework which determined everything else about my life: where I went, who I engaged with, how I spent my time and money, what I thought about. I was living a daily spiritual practice and reaping its rewards in the form of love, companionship, tangible support, deepened intuitive abilities, greatly improved self-esteem. I slept better, smiled more, knew what needed to happen next. I became proficient in the kitchen in ways I'd never been nor ever cared to be. I was interested in the qualities of the foods that went into the kitchari. I blessed each bowl I ate, I gave away as much of each pot as I myself consumed. People felt immediately nourished by it, as did I. When the 40 days ended I was shocked at how all that changed. Not once in 40 days did I burn the bottom of the pot. Not even one time — and that's saying something. Once the 40 days were over, all of a sudden I kept forgetting I was cooking until I smelled it catching! Or I'd forget some key ingredient, which I hadn't done before. Even though I'd said I'd go another ten days, it just didn't carry the same fire, the same juice, the same sanctity that the 4o days did. AND, I began to feel depleted. The fear that I was becoming deficient in some key nutrient returned. I knew that down this road is the path to the dreaded American Diet which has been so wrong for me. What I have been grappling with is how to hang on to a key learning that has come from these 40 days. The Learning: I have reached a stage in my life where I am the expert when it comes to what I need to sustain me. The key is to listen with great care; to call on Spirit and then listen as the answers form inside me. This is a radical act, entirely counter culture. How do I stand firm in this truth without the safety net of the fast? What is it about the 40 days that allowed me to be the person I want to be all the time. How can I re-create that outside the fast? And last, but hardly least...

Number 3. It's as if I've shed the fat suit I was shlepping around for the last many years. In 40 days, I dropped nearly 25 pounds. To be sure, I'm no slip of a thing, but I feel so much better, so much more like myself. This is pure bonus, though it's certainly welcome and it's a very visible effect of the fast. Any nutritionist would wag a finger at how quickly I've lost this weight. But, I felt better than I had in a very long time all the way through. The depletion came after the 40 days ended and I was in a quandary about what and how to eat. I let myself get dehydrated, I didn't eat enough, I fasted on Yom Kippur, was an officiant at not one but TWO fire rituals in this period. In fact, yesterday was the first day I started feeling better. I've been taking care to hydrate more, and I've been feeling more confidant around food. I'm not so worried any more that I will suddenly, accidentally, eat a bag of chips.

I am still captivated by what I've learned about my sacred activism and how it's through the care and feeding of this body that I'm coming to know the truth of what started me on this practice in the first place: when I was preparing to do a Ceremony to Heal the Waters of the Gulf of Mexico, I began to think about how I have treated my body with the same disregard as humanity treats the EarthSeaMother. This awareness grew into a commitment to pay more than just lip service to my commitment to Tikkun Olam. I think of Bernice Johnson Reagon, in an interview with Bill Moyers explaining the beauty and power of Black Gospel music in how personal it is. She uses as an example: "This little light of mine I'm gonna let it shine...."
I take a stand for the healing of the planet through the healing of my body.
YES! Let it begin with me!

40 days and 40 nights — DAY 40!!!!

6:52pm Wow! I did it. Sunset in 8 minutes from now. 40 days of kitchari and I've lived to tell about it. I will fast for Yom Kippur, beginning tonight at sunset, as I'd planned from Day 1. My counting error which made today be the last day, rather than tomorrow, feels like the right thing now – though I will always regret having not directly linked the Ramadan fast to the Yom Kippur fast. Oh well. Next year in Jerusalem. Perhaps, if the two fasts fall on the calendar in the right way, I'll try again. I've had my last bowl of kitchari of this 40 day practice and am moving into something new which will unfold.

Tonight I must make my final preparations for the Fall Equinox/Yom Kippur Forgiveness Ritual taking place tomorrow. In the coming days and weeks, I'm looking forward to writing about the extraordinary journey I've been on, the learnings, the surprises, the openings, the letting go's. During that time, more will emerge. I will post that exploration as a postscript. For now, 40 days and 40 nights — The Blog, has come to a close.

Thank you, my dear friends, those who have joined me along the way in eating kitchari, those who have witnessed silently, and those who have cheered me on. I have been held in a powerful field of love and support that I will carry with me always.

Mitakuye Oyasin, All My Relations, Tikkun Olam!

40 days and 40 nights — Day 38

7:47am Including today, three more days. As of today, I've decided to have a meal of curried vegetables with lamb to break my fast on Yom Kippur and then, starting Sunday, begin 10 more days eating kitchari. These 10 days are to give me time to live outside the safe haven of the 40 days and take a deep look at everything I've learned, time to be with what's changed in me without overwhelming my system — and by that I mean my whole system.

A question that I need to answer for myself: How do I retain the simplicity that has entered my life as a result of how much attention I've had to put on the act of keeping myself fed? Formulating that question as I write this, at least at the level I'm able to look at the issue in this moment, helps. A lot. The fast has brought great simplicity to my life. My days have systems in place that support the primacy and sanctity of the fast. Shouldn't it be possible to bring this intentionality into everyday life? What IS everyday life anyway? Maybe that's the larger question. What do I mean by "everyday life?!" I think what it's meant to me has been the stuff that's forgettable, that's unimportant, that's boring, hard, or doesn't make for a good story when you talk about it to your friends. Today, it doesn't feel right to relegate any part of life to the category of forgettable. These days, I find everything, at the very least, interesting. Usually it's more than that. What was once hard is now an adventure. What was once tedious is now an opportunity to practice a kind of discipline. I think a lot about The Karate Kid these days with Mr. Miyage saying "Wax on, wax off." That's a practice, one that builds patience, strength, skill and gets you a nice shiny car.

There's a practice that I sometimes do called "Soul Collage" in which you allow the alchemical process of selecting images and putting them together in a collage on a 5x7 piece of cardboard to work it's magic. As we move toward the Fall Equinox, I'm remembering that back at the Winter Solstice, I got together with my spirit sister Grace and did some Soul Collage. The card I ended up making I titled "Everyday Practice." It speaks to me about the power of everyday practice — something I'd aspired to but never really achieved. An everyday altar practice, prayer practice, self-care practice. All these energies right there in this card that I've had in my field of vision on and off since then. I've had it out for the entire period of the fast. Part of the Soul Collage process is to have the person sitting opposite you hold the card so you can see it from a bit of a distance. And then you speak sentences that begin with the words: I am the one who....

I am the one who now has an Everyday Practice — a practice that acknowledges the Oneness of all things, where washing the celentro is as sacred an act as standing at my altar offering prayers of healing for all beings and for the planet. I am the one who lives an intentional life and for whom the path of consciousness is unfolding. I offer the fruits of my practice to the healing of the planet. Mitakuye Oyasin, All My Relations, Tikkun Olam

40 days and 40 nights — Day 34

7:44pm As importantly as today being Day 34 of my kitchari* fast is that it's September 11th. Endings and beginnings. On this day, commemorating a terror act that slaughtered thousands, brought down an icon of corporate America, and continues — 9 years later — to terrorize us, my beloved spiritual home at One Spirit Interfaith Seminary, opened its doors in a brand new, beautifully appointed space, to a brand new crop of first year students. I, about to begin my second year — my ordination year — was privileged to be a greeter, to welcome the newcomers into a process that is nothing short miraculous. I certainly would not have embarked on a 40 day practice of any kind if not for One Spirit.

Today is also the day my mother stopped knowing who I am. Because of the fast, because of this blog, because it's September 11, 2010, I will forever know when that day came.

My mother and I had spent the day together, from noon on, because her weekend aide had to fly to Jamaica due to a death in the family. I split the day with my daughter so that I could get down to One Spirit in the morning. Driving down from a brief visit to the country house where she'd spent 36 summers with my father — dead now these past 5 and a half years, the house she'd given to me several years ago, she turned and asked, looking around at the back seat, "Where's my husband." It was so sudden. I was caught off-guard. I said, foolishly, "Are you talking about my father?" She was silent for a time and the said, "Are you my child?" We'd been talking the whole way down about things that referenced the family, there was no question that we were connected in the way that I was accustomed. She'd dozed off and it was after she woke up that things started to get wonky. I didn't realize at first, when she'd awakened, that she really didn't know in whose car she was and who I was. She complemented my driving, which she has done before. My father had been a terrible driver. She went into great detail about all the ways my driving was good. They were all the ways my father's driving was appallingly bad. I said something to that effect. And that's when she all of a sudden switched and asked where her husband was. She absolutely knew she had a daughter named Riva, but she didn't believe that I was her. She was completely baffled at how much I knew about her family. I was completely baffled that I was trying to reach her in this way, given that I knew this day was coming. I reminded her about her grandchildren, who she completely remembered. I said that I was their mother. She said "Do they know that." I was flummoxed by that response. Once the car was parked and we got upstairs, I began to fully lose my emotional equilibrium. She seemed to understand that there was something wrong — she seemed to get that I knew too much to not be Riva. She tried deciding to accept it, but I could absolutely feel that she was looking at a perfect stranger. As often as I'd heard about this happening with Alzheimers, it was devastating. I txted my beloved who reminded me to call in Spirit Help and promised to do so on my behalf. I felt better almost immediately and I began to feel into the energy of the situation. I became unafraid, unreactive and introduced myself as Riva, the person taking care of her this evening. I was aware that she had a daughter named Riva and wasn't that a coincidence. She asked what had caused me to know that she'd even need care today, and I responded that I'm the person who sees to her getting the care she needs. She was interested to know that. I could feel the energy unjamming, I kept it going, the energy flow. Back and forth, sending her expansion, acceptance, building a field of trust. Before too long, I could feel her shift back into seeing me as her daughter. Until the next time — which could be tomorrow, when I will again be sending the afternoon with her. The day will come when I won't be able to retrieve her.

What I know is that this access to the kind of energy work I did today is something else I have a much greater conscious awareness of, faith in, and ability to work with as a result of the increasingly clear field engendered by the kitchari fast.

Tomorrow's another day. Please send prayers for her, for me.
______________
*For those of you who are sensitive to issues of consistency of usage and spelling, I want to acknowledge that I have not landed anywhere on how I think kitchari (kitcheree) should be spelled. This is the case because I've been told on good authority that kitchari, with the accent on the second syllable is absolutely the right way to spell and say it (this from 1. my beloved, who spent several years following a macrobiotic diet and 2. a Guyanese friend) and I have been told on equally good authority that kitcheree (accent on the first syllable and a decided roll of the tongue on the "r" is the absolutely correct way to spell and say it (this from a friend married to an Indian man). I trust and love all three sources and so sometimes it comes out one way, sometimes another.

40 days and 40 nights — Day 32

3:59pm What a day. "Emotional rollar-coaster" doesn't actually cover it. I mean I'm fine, but as I move through the day I'm hit with wave upon wave of intense emotion. Today is Rosh HaShanah. I am acutely aware that today is a High Holy Day, acutely aware of how little personal experience I have of celebrating it from a spiritual perspective (as opposed to a culinary one), and how my spiritual community, rich and deep as it is, caring and careful to wish me a Happy New Year, has me once again in grief over my disaffection from organized religious practice, including and perhaps especially the religion of my ancestors. I had felt that so much had gotten healed vis a vis my relationship to my Judaism during the first year of my seminary training. But in the space and clarity of this fast, so much is coming up yet to be healed. Today, after hearing the story of a dear friend and spirit sister's awakening to her own internalized race hatred, I wonder if I've got that going on myself — if at the root of this disaffection, perhaps even antipathy, is a long-buried case of antisemetism. That would be a real kick in the head! I, who have been quite an in-your-face secular Jew, eager to use a yiddish bon mot whenever possible, proud to have a fairly good working knowledge of Yiddish and a very nearly perfect Eastern European accent... this is something to contemplate. It makes it easy to remain disaffected with the political situation in Israel which has me at odds with family that lives there. Anyway, I find this and other strong, hard, uncomfortable feelings coming up today, as I move through day 32.

It struck me that with 8 days left, I am now able to have wave on wave of difficult feelings without using food to medicate them way. I've developed a new way of being with feelings and, as I once again contemplate the approaching end of this 40 day container, I'm thinking of keeping it going. We'll see what unfolds.