There's a first time for everything

Photo Credit: Leslie Vigient

I just got back from my first acupuncture appointment. Good lord.

Even with the strong referral, it took me nearly a month to get in with this particular doctor. A petite woman with salt and peppered hair which accented her vibrant red framed glasses, showcasing the perfect blend of art and professionalism. This doctor was soft in nature like a grandmother, but firm and direct like a mother. I felt comfortable in telling her my life stories alongside my deepest medical and personal goals and secrets. She welcomed my honesty, and yet she still left me wondering if I answered her question "right".

Her office smelled of Chinese herbs and soft music absorbed the white noise and anxiety of all clients (definitely including the anxiety of this first-timer). Countertops were covered in needle boxes, suction glass balls, kleenex, and standard medical additions such as gauze and bandages. I clearly knew what acupuncture was going into it, so the needle aspect of acupuncture wasn't an issue for me. Between the blood draws for my thyroid and various tattoos and piercings that I have, I for some reason I trusted this stranger to stab me.

And she did.

After the face-to-face consult, I stripped down to my underwear and stood in front of her allowing her hands to trace my chi flow and my blocks. We talked about pains and naturally I brought up my never ending ability (and need) to crack my neck and roll my shoulders. She smiled humbly and said "I am not surprised at all from someone who was diagnosed with Hashimoto's Disease at 14." She explained to me the relationship between nerves and chi flow as she pointed out that where I carry my thyroid in the front of my throat, just around the corner in the same place, there sat my top vertebrae (Disclosure: I am not a medical professional, and by no means do I know technical medical terms, so just roll with my "medical" explanations here). She later asked if I had a stressful and anxious upbringing, because apparently getting Hashimoto's at 14 was quite a  young age to be diagnosed, and I briefly revealed to her the "shuffle" of my childhood. Apparently having a dad who moved in and out of marriages frequently affected my physical self more than I thought. But of course it did. I scrambled at a young age to make a name for myself and hold on to any sense of identity that being a Carlin had.

She chuckled as she traced my back, letting me know that I was giving her quite the project to work on as she said "It's a mess back there!" Yes, yes it is. She had me lay on the table on my back and opened up the flow in my legs. The needles didn't hurt. The prick didn't hurt. It was the sudden pain and movement that caught me off guard leaving me wincing. I felt like there was sharp electric currents streaming from my hips, to my toes. Opening up vents of circulation as if they were a dam to a river. She opened up my "vents" on both legs before having me switch over and lay on my stomach so that she could tackle my back. After what felt like a back massage, she counted seven main blocks and then literally stabbed needles into those seven spots. Uncomfortable, but not awful. She then lit the suctions and placed them accordingly (I have no idea where, or how, by this point my back was on fire with those feel-like electrical currents) and lined key spots along my lower back, and hips to further continue the flow of chi and energy.

This whole process lasted 90 minutes. We finished and I felt overwhelmed with both relaxation and confusion on what the hell just happened to me. Yet, I felt good. Really good. We scheduled seven more appointments (2 a week), and I took my checkbook and purse to the car to just sit there and reflect. What were those "currents"? How can I explain this feeling to others? How can I explain that this was oh-so uncomfortable, yet oh-so recharging and stimulating?

I look forward to seeing how this progresses as the sessions move along. She told me that the first appointment is always the most "uncomfortable" because you are breaking the biggest blocks, and from there it becomes alignment and flow energy.

I don't get it, and yet I recommend it. Has anyone else gotten acupuncture treatment before? What are your experiences?

Dharma Code

Last summer I worked my way through Rod Stryker's book, The Four Desires. Recommended and praised throughout the local yoga community, this meditation and exercise book aims to teach readers how they can take control to achieve a rich and fulfilling life. Skeptical at first (I was convinced it was some kind of  "don't jump!" book), I was pleasantly surprised by Stryker's approach and found myself looking forward to the various activities and meditative practices.

As summer carried along, my notebooks filled and my mind remained blissfully distracted as I let myself get wrapped up in the beauty that an Oregon summer has to offer. I finished off The Four Desires, making a new home for it on the book shelf and moved along throughout my summer reading list. Many people know my love for books and the spell that a bound book has on me. Whether it's the crisp scent and cracking sound that a hardback makes the first time you fold back its cover, or the rich character of a favorite book; Mine often polluted with bobby pins aiding as book marks, folded down corners, and pencil markings. I take pride in watching my collection grow and smile when new books find their place among the colorful spines of its new neighbors against my black shelves. 

I hadn't thought about The Four Desires since I had finished it. I didn't see myself ever re-reading it like I did so often with favorites such as East of Eden and The Sun Also Rises. Yet this past week, I pulled out last summer's notebook and plopped on the couch, in search of a quote that I knew came from another book that I had read the previous summer. As I searched for the quote my eyes caught notes from the work that I had done with The Four Desires, and there right in front of me in black ink was my dharma code.

[What the hell is a dharma code? Below is an except from the book describing it:]

"When you know and choose to serve your soul's driving reason for being -- what I call your dharma code -- you are able to collect and channel extraordinary power into your life because you are then linked to the infinite field of energy and intelligence that shapes our world. Once you are rooted in your soul's defining purpose, you are able to use your dharma code to direct every action and decision from the light of your soul.

A dharma code is each person's individual expression of his/her dharma or soul's purpose. It is a statement that clarifies your soul's reason for being. When acted upon, it is a principle that will benefit not just your own dharma, but the larger or universal expression of it as well. In uncovering and articulating your dharma code, you are providing the opportunity for your soul to direct you to be more fully yourself, and in so doing, to contribute more effectively to the benefit of the world.

According to the ancient teachings, each and every one of us is born with a distinct and glorious purpose. Thus, your soul's unique purpose -- your dharma code -- is hard-wired. It is not something you consciously decide. Your soul's purpose came into this world with you, even if you are not yet aware of it. It has always been a part of you. It's up to you to uncover it -- to bring it to a conscious level -- and then make living by it your priority."

I was disappointed with myself to see my dharma code tucked away in a shelved notebook, so I have decided to resurrect it. I spent a lot of time developing this damn thing!  May I remember this as I work through the summer, forced to adjust my activities. May I remember this as I look for new work, eager to blend my love of fundraising with the outdoor and arts community. May I remember this as I wake up in the morning and look at my reflection in the mirror.

I present to you, my dharma code:

"Embrace that you are always changing. 

Always giving. Always discovering. 

Stay purposeful, but live freely."

Don't Stop, Won't Stop

It doesn't take much to make me smile these days.

Despite new medical diagnoses, my smiles flourish.

You cannot stop. 

You cannot stop the blushing of romance.

You cannot stop the summer sun reflecting off of the crisp pages of a good book.

You cannot stop the power of friends gathered together.

The trails and the trees.

Notebooks with honest words.

The purity of live music and the freedom of dancing.

You cannot stop, joy.

I look forward to writing more now that my schedule has slowed from work. I look forward to climbing again--my hands too smooth after not climbing for two weeks--most importantly though, I look forward to connecting.

While I am here, I figured that I'd share a snip-it from the Big Easy Express that I appropriately came across this morning. Consider it your five minute banjo therapy for the day.

Big Easy Express on Nowness.com.

Re-purpose

I'm not surprised that I haven't blogged in roughly a month.
I have been busy.

Busy with wonderful, celebratory happenings such as birthdays, BBQ's, and dinners with the "Family".
So why haven't I written?

Because none of these events, though fabulous, had the ability to ground me.

It wasn't until I let my feet hit the soil this past Saturday that I felt my mind revert to a state of imagination, creativity and excitement. Alongside my dear friend, Adrienne, I felt her connection as our auras simultaneously aligned, preparing us for the day ahead.

With no concept or concern of distance, we hiked the switch-back trail catching up like old friends do. We stopped to take photos, and I got my dose of biology as she educated me on the families and origins of the plants that we passed. A true plant physiologist that woman is. (Ad--I found myself thinking about Bracken, Maidenhair, and Lady Ferns while eating my breakfast this morning. What have you done to me?). As you can also see in the photo, I got a lesson in which plants were edible. Though delicious, I remained skeptical, fearing that I would accidentally eat the wrong type and wind up dead.

With no true agenda for the day, we allowed ourselves to escape and cling to nature; I felt as my mind and soul dropped it's guard and welcomed the reunion; asking for acceptance and unity. Being typical 24 year-olds, Adrienne and I continuously find ourselves trying to navigate the world of love, meanwhile fighting to make a name for ourselves in order to keep our independence as women, professionals, and mentors. We talked about the tender love of a long-term partner and the excitement of a new crush, the turmoil and the elation that goes with dating, and the pain and the forgiveness of relationships; all while shamelessly thanking and praising our outlets: hiking, yoga, climbing, and writing, as our saving graces for our daily sanity.

Working our way past Fairy Falls towards the Devils Rest Summit, we found ourselves alongside a creek with a powerful current just gentle enough to invite us to play on her slippery rocks, logs, and mud. I felt my chest relax as I approached the water, ears stimulated over the rush, my eyes locked on to the waters path. Dancing with the elevation, flirting with large rocks and fallen trees, she made her deceleration to the forest that this was her course, but all are welcome. You couldn't stop this dance, she was full of direction, ready to adapt to protect her needs.


Adrienne and I found ourselves continuously in awe of instances such as these that displayed nature's ability to adapt and re-purpose itself within its environment. As easily as the fallen trees became a part of the creeks "tango", dozens of trees warped their strong foundation, altering the direction of growth in order to maximize sunlight. This environment is a continuum of adaptation. That very adaptation is what made them beautiful to me. On the trail we passed many perfectly erect trees, solid in their roots, beaming from the sun's rays--but my heart was with those who were twisting and leaning, and those that had fallen.

In attempt to figure out why I was so enamored with those unique trees, I began to parallel my own experiences to the trees.  As I fight towards my personal path of enlightenment, I pride myself on leading a life that continually challenges me. Just as those trees fought for extra sunlight, I fight to make myself stronger. I adapt to the changes at work, the dynamics of growing friendships, potential love interests, etc.

It was then that I realized that when Adrienne and I discussed our desire to love, truly love, I discovered why I was drawn to the logs in the creek as well as the trees that fought for their fuel source: It was because I see myself in those trees. Constantly adapting. Constantly working towards betterment. More so, I see my future partners in those trees. I love the unique qualities and the visible drive to obtain their enlightenment. I see the beauty of growth.

I haven't written, because I haven't been grounded.
I haven't been grounded because I haven't taken the time to listen to my surroundings.

Life reminds us that adaptation is necessary, nature reminds us that adaptation makes you beautiful.

The Only Good Fight

"If you're going to try, go all the way. Otherwise don't even start.

This could mean losing girlfriends, wives, relatives, jobs, and maybe your own mind.
It could mean not eating for three or four days.
It could mean freezing on a park bench.
It could mean jail.
It could mean derision.
It could mean mockery. Isolation.

Isolation is the gift. All the others are tests of your endurance. Of how much you really want to do it. And you'll do it, despite rejection in the worst odds. And it'll be better than anything else you can imagine.

If you're going to try, go all the way.

There's no other feeling like that, you will be alone with the gods and the nights will flame with fire. You'll ride straight to perfect laughter. It's the only good fight there is."

-Bukowski, Factotum