take your child/mom to work day

I wanted to check in really quickly just to say that today - take your child to work day - was GREAT. I didn't buy a yacht, although I wanted to. Isaac and I strolled past several beauties that were for sale, but I am acutely aware that we must watch every dollar in an attempt to save money for summer camp, which is only 2 months away!!! Before lunching in Annapolis, we spent a while with the staff of a dental practice, going over all the ways that doTERRA essential oils can improve the experience of everyone in their office, especially the staff. Isaac was a terrific asset, sharing stories and testimonials and making sure I covered salient points about what makes doTERRA oils unique. Tomorrow, I will accompany Isaac as a chaperone on his class field trip (reportedly the best of the year), but I will need to peel off at lunch time and head to the airport. Saturday will be take your mom to work day. I need my mother to drive me to Boca from Palm Beach Gardens because I do not have a car nor am I renting one this time. So, she will attend my training in the AromaTouch technique and get to see what it is I do when I am working, and hopefully understand why I am so passionate about it. As a full fledged member of the sandwich generation, it is a real treat to have tomorrow, a field trip I am NOT missing, for a change, sandwiched between two other very special days. I feel very fortunate. That is all.

Yizkor

It's okay to cry, and to let others nearby, both young and old, see tears streaming down your cheeks. You don't need to hide your face as you sit in the sanctuary, surrounded by others who have known loss, who understand what it is to grieve. But be careful not to let your tears fall onto the thin paper page of the prayer book. If one of them does, the paper will pucker and thus be forevermore dimpled, a memorial created by a single tear that streamed from your heart, from the depths of your soul, out of your eye, to trace a rivulet down your cheek, to splash a puddle, the smallest ocean of grief, quietly upon it, leaving its mark, permanent proof that the letters printed there, the words of the prayer you just read, were effective at reaching into a heart, whispering into a soul, resonating at your very core. Take a breath. Take another. There. Relax, breathe, you are safe; all is well; you are not alone. You hold a book that is a living thing, about as much as the scrolls that were just held aloft on the bimah. This little volume connects you to your community, to your past, your ancestors, to those who held it before you and those who will hold it tomorrow, next week, next year. The brass plaques on the wall are memorials, but so too is this book. Inside it, on the page marked Yizkor, is the smear of a tear wiped in vain by a slightly soiled hand. Just as the tears streaming down a cheek are proof that a person has a soul, so is a smear proof of a book's humanity. I have damaged the siddur, but nothing human lasts forever. Certainly none of us remains alive without acquiring a blemish, without sustaining an injury, without manifesting signs of aging and decay. As much as tears are proof that we have a soul, the unwelcome scars ands wrinkles that permanently alter us are signs of our humanity. Sorry, where was I going with this? Oh, yes, tears. It's okay to cry.

Atrophy, at a glance

I suddenly realized, yesterday, that I have let myself go, in a very specific way that had utterly escaped my attention. The background for what happened is this: I currently live in a house essentially without mirrors. We have small mirrored cabinets in the bathrooms, so I can watch myself think as I brush my teeth, but there is not a single spot where I can get the whole impact of myself such as the world does when I am out and about. On moving day, back in June, I gave away my scale to a friend who stopped by during the final hours of packing, so I have also not weighed myself since moving to this house. I have been held accountable only by my clothes, occasional photographs, the mirrored wall in the Bikram yoga studio, and randomly occurring glances and comments. It's a big change, having neither a three digit number or a reflected image to help me gauge how I am doing each day. But I walk the dog daily, or hike through airport terminals, and I try to get to yoga class on a regular basis. The waistbands of my clothes are tighter and then looser, then a bit tighter again, back and forth, within a moderately fluctuating range that I consider normal and healthy. As a person recovering (for the rest of my life) from an eating disorder, I've been very grateful to feel strong, flexible and healthy and I have tried to focus on all the wonderful things I am able to do with my body and not what it looks like or what it might weigh. So yesterday, I show up to teach the AromaTouch technique to a room full of women and I'm confronted by a solid wall of mirrors, illuminated by florescent bulbs, no less, and I avoid my reflected image, not intentionally, but just because I want to focus on my students. Until, at one point, I face the mirror to demonstrate part of the technique to three students standing behind me, because for a confused moment I think that by facing the mirror, I will give them a better chance to see both sides of me at once. (Of course, they have been seeing both sides of me all day long, but I have been avoiding the mirror, and with it, any awareness that I have a reflection) Now, I lift my hands high in the air to simulate reaching for the base of the spine, and then, I lower them slowly, my arms bending at the elbows as I do so. What I see in the mirror as I do this shocks and appalls me. There, on the underside of my upper arms are large, soft flaps of flesh swinging loose below the bone. I have to demonstrate this motion two more times, and as I do so, briefly overcome by the trauma of my soft, dare I say flabby, arms, I try to focus my gaze on anything other than that particular anatomical feature. The one glance was enough information to last a lifetime; I never want to see that much atrophy in a mirror again. More background: A Mother's day concert, two years ago: I finish playing music in a chamber ensemble, put my instrument away and come out to meet the audience at a small reception in the lobby of the church where we have just performed. Several older women approach me eagerly and ask about my toned, shapely, muscular arms. How do I get them to look like that? They simply must know. At the time, I was disappointed that they did not comment on the music, but now, I miss having arms worthy of admiration. Today, as much as I miss playing chamber music, I really just want my muscle tone back. My eldest son paid me a compliment, not too long ago, by asking what exercises he could do to improve the definition in his upper arms, and when we were together again, just weeks later, I could tell that he had taken my advice. When we saw Pippin on Broadway for his most recent birthday, he said, about the lead actor "Wow, Patina Miller has the most amazing arms. Mom had arms like that, not too long ago." My arms were never that luscious shade of brown, I think, but other than that, gosh, perhaps he is right. When was that? I wonder. And exactly when did they go away? Macho Mommy muscles, the boys used to say, referring to my arms. I haven't heard that in a while, but still, I was genuinely shocked yesterday to see what has happened from the extended cessation of downward dog, handstand, and forte tremolo. I mostly blame Bikram for this state of atrophy, or rather, I blame myself for not noticing that my arms haven't done any weight bearing exercise since I abandoned my vinyasa practice in favor of the purifying sweat room that is the Bikram studio. But not playing the violin much lately hasn't helped either. My bowing arm, at least, got a daily workout, when I practiced, when I had something to prepare for. But sadly, I have left my piano trio back in Cincinnati, along with my scale and all those mirrors. So today, I rise with the first light, awakened by the pleading meow of my hungry cat. I go downstairs to feed both pets, and then, rather than sitting at the computer to check my email and Facebook, I descend another level to the basement to find the free weights and do some tricep extensions, some bicep curls, a few other exercises for my arms. When I grow tired of this, I do a handstand, resting the toes of one foot against a beam in the low ceiling of my basement, and hold this pose for a count of 20 before letting my legs drop back to the ground. I'm going to get my macho Mommy muscles back. Just a little bit of work, every day, the reverse of how I let them go. I don't need a mirror. I have a feeling someone will let me know when they're back. I'm not trying to be skinny. I truly believe that I have sworn off that compulsion for life. But I do want to be healthy, and part of that means being fit and strong. As a natural wellness advocate, I care about maintaining good muscle tone just as much as I care about being clean and well groomed, if not more so. Meanwhile, let me know if you hear of someone looking for a good, amateur violinist in the DC area. I need to rosin up my bow.

The Power of Plant Medicine meets the Power of Touch - the AromaTouch technique

I am teaching something today that I wish you could be present to learn, but I am glad that at least I can tell you about it here. It is called the AromaTouch Technique and over the last year and a half, it has become my favorite way to empower others to improve their health and quality of life. I cannot properly put into words how grateful I feel to have been given the opportunity to share this healing practice with others. One of the things that is unique about AromaTouch is that, unlike massage, which can be taxing to the practitioner, the technique is actually pleasant and beneficial to the person who gives it. When massage therapists of a certain age discover AromaTouch, they rejoice; not only do they not hurt after a session, but they feel emotionally uplifted and physically relaxed. Doctors and nurses love it because they can achieve a positive clinical outcome quickly and naturally, without drugs or surgery. Clients and patients may experience immediate restoration of range of motion, reduction in pain and more. They describe their feeling afterwards as "light and heavy at the same time" "clean and refreshed" and say "massage feels like it's working on the outside but this works on the inside." When I first discovered doTERRA essential oils, I was working as a reiki energy healer, and my dental hygienist thought to put me in touch with her aunt, Priscilla, a nurse who loves doTERRA essential oils and had made a business of sharing them in her spare time. I soon received a set of sample vials of the oils to use on my clients. I immediately fell in love with the extraordinary purity and potency of the oils and the benefits they delivered for my clients, myself, my husband and my kids; I began to read and learn about the company and its mission. As I did my research, it was the AromaTouch technique that intrigued me the most. I told Priscilla that I wanted to learn the technique so that I could share it with my clients. I asked when I should plan to go to Utah to learn from Dr. Hill, doTERRA's chief medical officer, who had developed the technique. Miraculously, Priscilla announced that she had just been deputized by Dr. Hill as one of several instructors trained to certify others as practitioners of the technique. Although we had not yet met, Priscilla offered to conduct a certification training in my living room if I could gather a dozen or so folks who also wanted to learn. I posted what I knew about AromaTouch on Facebook, basically, that it is a clinical application of essential oils designed to enhance health well being, and the response was rapid and strong. I quickly filled the room with other like minded individuals: a couple of massage therapists, an esthetician, a personal trainer, a life coach, a nurse, a healing touch practitioner, and a mother of teenaged athletes, and my own teenage son. We were all excited to learn something new, to acquire a natural way to help the people we care about. I didn't have any idea how much my life was about to change. Let me pause for a moment and explain: The AromaTouch technique has three fundamental objectives. It offers even a novice essential oil enthusiast a way to use oils effectively and appropriately to enhance quality of life. It addresses known constant disturbances to overall health and well being: stress, toxic insult, inflammation and autonomic imbalance. Third, it helps re-establish a state of homeostasis within the body. Without overloading you with too much of the science behind it, let me just say that it based on a whole lot of study of the neuroendocrine, nervous and endocrine systems, as well as the hypothalmus, which connects these last two systems. Walter Bradford Cannon, a Harvard physiologist and neurologist who dedicated his career to understand the autonomic nervous system, suggested the term homeostasis to describe a state of balanced and effective activity that promotes long term health. When homeostasis is achieved, we are able to react more healthfully both to emotional and physical stressors. What AromaTouch has meant for me, so far, is this: (1) I have a safe, effective way to make people feel better, to help them with chronic fatigue, chronic pain, chronic stress, even with grief and depression. (2) As a regular host of AromaTouch certification trainings (Priscilla would return to my spacious living room each month for the next six months, until I moved from our sprawling ranch in Ohio to a tiny city house just outside Washington DC), I was filled with joy each time a set of healers would leave my home armed with this new way to help the people they meet. I had fallen in love. (3) I set a goal for myself: to become one of Dr. Hills' deputies. Last month, I achieved this goal. I achieved Gold rank in doTERRA, which entitled me to spend a weekend learning with Dr. Hill in Columbus, Ohio, and I am now one of 32 newly minted trainers in the AromaTouch technique. (4) I am now the only trainer in the state of Maryland able to offer certification training in the AromaTouch technique. I also travel to teach the technique, as Priscilla did for me, when I first reached out to her. Earlier this month, I returned to Ohio to train a new group of people in Cincinnati in the technique and I am receiving feedback that they are already busy changing the lives of the people with whom they've shared it. Next weekend, I will visit my mother in South Florida and while I am there, I will train another group of folks in Boca Raton. And right now, I'm going to have breakfast with my family and then, pack up my doTERRA oils and go teach AromaTouch just a little way up the road in Rockville, Maryland.