Homeopathic Healing

I woke up this morning feeling quite ill; achy muscles, stuffy nose, exhausted. Of course, these symptoms are not unfamiliar to me. They are the feelings of a cold or a flu coming on, something that happens quite often to me back home in the states. If I were there, I would react by skipping class that day to either buy some over the counter drugs or to stop by the health clinic to visit a doctor who would inevitably hand me over a prescription. I have grown quite accustomed to allopathic health solutions, for the most part finding them efficient enough.

But in the past year or so my mind has been shifting and I have wondered what exactly I am doing to my body every time I find a problem and “fix it” with some drug, some prescription pill. I have begun to consider America’s health system and found many flaws there. Coming to Auroville, I have had the opportunity to further consider health systems. I have been rethinking the way that I treat my body and come into new ideas that might be more beneficial than the mindset adapted from working within American healthcare systems.

I signed up for the “Pease Verses Pills” workshop with very little intention; I had seen a signed posted and figured it would be good for me to participate in an Auroville class. But spending the day at this workshop I came to so many realizations; it really opened my mind to think about my health in different terms. Homeopathy is a type of healing that considers both the mind and the body. According to Nandita, the intelligent woman who led the workshop, homeopathy believes that health is being in the moment both physically and mentally. This means that one can adjust to their environment (i.e.: sweating when its hot, shivering when its cold, smiling when you feel happy, etc.). In order to be healthy, one must be very considerate of oneself. Instead of relying on someone or something else to take care of you (going to a doctor, popping a couple pills), one must be aware of how they are feeling and think about what could be causing the problem. Each individual is responsible for their illness and is capable of healing themselves.

As opposed to conventional medicine which seeks out the individual problem and goes to the source (fixing the headache or the sore stomach with a drug that will react directly to that point) homeopathy tries to understand the whole picture. Conventional medicine sees the body as a machine; an illness is a broken piece that can be tinkered with and fixed. Nandita preached a more holistic version of healing where one tries to understand why a patient is weak so that they can recover and become strong again. As opposed to seeing sickness as something that is broken, consider what the body is trying to tell you.

Sickness is an act of self preservation. The body has many ways of translating how its doing to you: symptoms, sensations, feelings, alterations in functions, and intuition. Each individual must therefore be awake to what their body is trying to tell them. When something goes wrong, you as an individual must not be treating yourself right. How is your body feeling? What has brought your body to feel this way? Besides the concentrated area of infection, is anything else in you feeling off? These are some of the questions an individual can ask themselves in order to start processing their illness homeopathically.

These are therefore the questions I ask myself today as I am forced to lay sick in bed. Sure, I could take some fever-reducing pills, some sinus medicine and perhaps I’d feel much better. But that would be ignoring the signals that my body is trying to send me. Maybe it is because I have been moving so much, between traveling and adventuring through Hampi these last couple of days. Maybe its because I have been feeling sad and anxious about the end of the program, about leaving friends, India, Alex, yet have been pulling on a happy face because I don’t want to think about it. There are many reasons that I could have fallen ill today. Though I have not trained myself well enough to understand what my body is trying to tell me, I am at least starting to think more homeopathically.

“Our Natural Love for Life Sustains Life”

It has almost become cliché to exclaim that I feel connected to the world, the universe(!). Whilst walking through nature, in solitutde, the sounds, smells, and sight come out strongly and seem t resonate with the mind, body, feelings. As I walk through nature, I am at my best to appreciate anything. I can stop whenever a patch of sun breaks through the trees, enjoying its warmth on my face. I can step lightly, gently crunching leaves under my feet, or sprint steadily, disrupting the calmness around me. Nature has always allowed me to feel at my best.

It therefore makes plenty of sense that it is biologically inserted in me to feel connected or “deeply afficilated” with nature. I have a constant pull to surround myself in its elements.

Food:

Though humans are becoming accustomed to heavily processed food, I think it is in our nature to crave real, raw, untampered with food. My diet since being in India has shifted to be much more organic; I can feel both physically and mentally the affects of this. I have never felt so healthy, awake, and present. Though something in our minds tells us to crave oily, fatty, junk food, I think the more genuine side is telling us the truth.

Animals:

I have grown up surrounded by animals, both domestic and wild. It is easy for me to express my sense of loyalty for domestic pets because I was raised on the attitude that they are my family members. I grant them personalities and put energy into keeping them well. But it reaches beyond animals that I have such a relationship with. It is such an instincitive feeling to want to help any suffering life. Whether it is a trapped mouse that you had set to “get rid of” or a lion struggling with a fractiure paw, there is a gasp of air and a reaction of wanting to help. I think that we all recognize what it means to feel vulnerable to life and therefore respond to noticising in other forms of life.

Plants:

I think we have a similar response to plant life. Seeing a suffering tree, an infested flower makes me consider the life of the plant; what brought it to this stuggle? It is naturally decomposing or has something or someone forced it into this state of despair? I think that we can be as protective of our plant life as we are with our human relations but we don’t allow ourselves to be. It is so easy to objectify plants, using them for our benefits without considering their life lines. Without considering their need to be replenished.

In fact, it feels that that is what we are constantly doing: objectifying nature and ignoring its life lines. I see it constantly. People trashing the ground, causing carbon and not replanting trees, making food that no longer resembles the part of nature that it came from. We let ourselves become disassociated with a world that allows us the most genuine health and happiness. I think this is why so much appears to be askew in our world. We are ignoring “Biophilia”, forgetting to give in to our attritions. Love for the natural world. Because of this, we are not sustaining the world we live in. We are running out of recourses, or diversity, or species, overcrowding our land with unhealthy people. But if we listen to our instincts, we can find that “our natural love for live (can) help sustain life”.

01 February 2008

Today I am physically exhausted. After two days of hard gardening, a night of
African dance class, a night of Capuera class, a week of Tai Chi and many nights
of rustled sleep, I feel that I have reached some sort of peak. The problem is
that I don’t want to stop. I don’t want to miss anything; I don’t want to pull
myself away.
It looks like we are actually going to start the semester now. A week of
community building was more than enough for us and it is exciting to start
focusing in. I somewhat reluctantly put myself in a base group focused on the
“social” aspect of our studies. Though social makes sense for what I have been
studying at university, I had wanted to force myself another way for this
semester. Specifically, I have been interested in learning more about the
ecological sides of Auroville. However, in coming together with the other five
in my base group I realize how much I can get out of learning with them.
Another part of our semester is that we all have a “service learning” project,
which is an internship of our choice. There are so many cool things I can do
but I’m focusing in on farms. I’m looking into working on Fertility Farm, the
Healing farm, or the Buddhist Garden. However, I also might slither my way into
an internship at the Pony Farm. No, seriously. If I don’t actually work with
the horses I am going to volunteer on my time off to work there and hopefully on
Sundays do the therapeutic riding with handicap children.
I guess I’m getting overwhelmed by how much I want to do here. So many amazing
classes and workshops, activities that I can be a part of…and that I want to be.
However, I am caught in this feeling of “well if not now, when else?”. I was
so proud of myself for going to the African dance class because it truly is
something I’ve always wanted to do but just felt so incredibly intimidated. Now
I feel very committed to working at it, getting better. One of these days I’ll
be able to toss my body indiscriminately around. And hte capeura class was
really cool too. it is a mix of tai chi moves, but sped up to African dance
music; its like African dance-fighting. I'm better at that than at african
dance so far.
We are also chanting and meditating a lot. I love the chanting though I'm not
so good at the meditating part. Auroville is by rule not a religious place but
has a huge emphasis on spirituality, evolving spirituality. So its been really
great for me to delve into that stuff too.

Tiravanimalai

This weekend we left Auroville for the first time (other than short trips to Pondicherry) to see the sacred mountains of Tiravanimalai. After a full day of service-learning presentations and a NVC (non-violent communication) workshop, five-thirty came and had us loading onto two large buses. The drive was a bit over two hours but felt longer due mostly to our apprehension but also to our empty stomachs. Finally, after growing anxious in my thoughts, we took a left turn into a driveway that had a large yellow archway with words listed in Sanskrit. This would normally mean nothing to me had Ross, our trip-planner/friendly uncle, not been standing there waving us into the Ashram that we would be staying. We came off of the bus and were handed room keys and told to divide out amongst them. After throwing our bags into rooms we all met back outside and walked across the street to have a much-needed dinner which was as quiet as our tired heads needed. The night went unscheduled in whichever direction each person wanted to take it; I stayed up late spending quality time with the right people.

The morning came and we congregated to walk over to the Sri Rakjflef ashram/temple. It was a strange place for me, European and Indian tourists filtered through the ashram’s meditation spaces and shrines. I followed the crowd in ways, circling three times the main shrine, thinking hard but trying not to be cynical on the use of money in spirituality. In ways I really enjoyed the space. An adjacent shrine was a darker room, smelling strongly of incense. Shrines of Shiva (shadowed by Nunda) and Ganesh with his rat were cast around the room. I appreciated the silence, appreciated other people’s presence in the room. For a while I sat meditating in the main chamber, but of course meditating to me simply means letting my mind go monkey. After about forty-five minutes I got up and joined the rest of the group who was in line for lunch, a meal we had been quite fortunate to be invited to. I stuck by Ross, needing a good conversation with someone who holds a sturdy perspective. I told him how I have a hard time with shrines, about my own discomfort with them but also with how curious I always am that other people find such security and inspiration with them. He told me how shrines, gods, goddesses, the works did not matter as these physical items that I was observing them to be. Instead, they should be considered as the ideas they represent. For example, Ganesh represents clearing out obstacles. So sure, he is embodied as the elephant-headed man that I am meant to make funny faces in front of, but those objects are just a reminder. I really appreciated that idea.

After a great conversation and meal we had time until we would go see the biggest Shiva shrine in the world. I needed to lay low a bit since we haven’t been sleeping these past couple weeks so Alex and I just lay around talking. The evening came and we once again piled on a bus for a twenty minute ride to the temple. The shrine was incredible, like a strange Hindu amusement park. I made funny faces in front of Ganesh which granted me an ashed forehead. I circled a little too quickly the “marriage tree” seven times, hoping that its affects would be a bit more delayed than promised. We walked the cues into one of the inner shrines to Shiva and wound up in this dry steam room, knees to the floor giving flowers as an offering and once again spreading ash on our foreheads. Right before leaving the shrine we sat down cross-legged on the cool tile floor because we had to “ground” everything that had just happened. Sitting, I felt myself calm down and I understood the importance of that final step.

We all left at our own pace, going off different directions for dinner and the evening. I went for a wonderfully relaxing meal where we sat on cushions on the floor, sprawled out across the restaurant. Back to the ashram before ten, we all lay low talking knowing that the next morning we had an early hike.

5:45 came and I heard Pete and Kristin whispering in the bed next to me, we had 15 minutes to get ready. By 6 oclock I had pulled on hiking apparel and found myself on a bus driving along the mountainside. We got out, still in the village and just started moving up. Within an hour I was leading the group, scrambling along steep rocks. The hike up this sacred mountain was about two hours and I loved every minute of it. I barreled up with Tialoc and Betsy, looking over my shoulder every once in awhile to see the amazing view of the city and the huge temple with its surrounding courtyard. But fog started to fade in around us and by the time we reached the summit, there was no more city to be seen. The summit was covered in a greasy charcoal layer. Apparently it had recently been covered in Gee and lit on fire. Eventually, the rest of the group caught up with us and we all sat relieving ourselves on this misty isolated summit. The way down was much more difficult as the mountain-ground is all rocks. I slid and scuttled down most of it, crab-like. It was amazing to see the horizon come back to us as we descended, the city come back into focus.

Coming back to Auroville I am completely exhausted but happy. It feels good to be home, to shower, to sleep in beds that are at least a bit softer. I’m nervous about starting a new week when my tank has not been refilled. But who am I to complain when these experiences have all been so wonderful, so rewarding. I continue to feel like the luckiest girl in the world.

me and my bike

We woke the first morning in Auroville after having slept between two-three hours in our new homes, new beds. I walked down the spiral stairs of Mitra Guest-house with my new roommates to find out that the first order of business was to find our bikes. Out on the red dirt driveway I noticed a few of my fellow travelers were already out trying to find keys to match bike locks. I ran out and met for the first Tialoc, who in these brief days I have already identified as the most spectacular human being yet to have entered my life. Long-haired, fit as any Tai-chi master should be, and Hawaiian, he introduced himself to me and offered a box of keys and sent me on my Easter egg hunt. After trying to stuff many a key into wrong holes, I found her. Black and silver, thick mountain wheels, shiny silver bell, single-geared, I slid the key into Number 8’s hole and she was mine. Love-stricken, I wrote my name corresponding to the key and bike numbers and walked away longingly; I would have to wait to get my first ride.

Five days have passed since that first ride. Since then, Number 8 and I have shared many adventures; we have explored Auroville together. Her wheels are as new as my eyes and together they roll over red dirt, stop suddenly for bulls with painted horns crossing through the bike path. I have never so much loved biking as I do here, but perhaps that is because I seem to love everything here. I’ve never felt so right in a place before now.

Though Number 8 is surely 2 inches too big of a bike for me, we’ve learned to over-come our differences. I have a rock set securely for help mounting, and as soon as I do: we’re off and I swear I don’t even need to use that arm-breaking trick Tialoc showed us.