prasad. blessed sweets

there are a handful times during our six and a half weeks in vaidyagrama when we actually had food that was sweetened with sugar. NO, not meals. definitely, absolutely not in the daily food. doctorji says, we don't cook for the tongue, we want your digestive system to rest and your liver to work as little as possible during panchakarma. so food in vaidyagrama is what in the west would label as 'high carb, low protein.' I am not exaggerating when i say one patient said, you are starving us. the truth of the matter is, according to ayurveda, i'm told, the ideal food protocol during panchakarma is this. two meals a day. boiled veg. kanji, meaning rice and water. it might sound unbearable. but i have to say, it really grows on me. after a short while i have to beg dr harik, pls, may i have kanji three times a day? no kidding. hwubby says, you have to understand how much suk wah loves to eat.

i discover that the natural flavors and tastes of veg comes through delightfully and enticingly by boiling them. this has made a huge shift in the way i cook now.

for those who are concerned with protein deficiency, don't you worry. there's plenty of mung. now at home we are eating mung in one form or another everyday. it's a must-have for hwubby's breakfast.

in addition, one of my daily meds is a cup of hot milk, that is freshly drawn from a cow on the grounds, and comes with a sweet med. on that note, we are so lucky in east bay. raw milk is available in berkeley bowl. it's at arm's length literally.

all right, what am i talking about? yes, divine sweets. periodically brahmin priests come to the grounds to perform pujas. The core purpose of any puja is to invoke grace, express gratitude for blessings bestowed upon us, pray for harmony, wellbeing for all, strength and courage to move through obstacles, both within and without. most of all we ask for divine guidance to connect with our own love, our divinity, within and see the same love and divinity in everything, everywhere in the universe.

it is the tradition to offer sweets that are specially made for the puja. here, if i recall correctly, it's rice, nuts, pure sugar cane juice, cardamom, ginger, turmeric. an offering to cows on that day in the year when we express our thanks to these phenomenal beings who work hard, serve mankind with quiet steadfastness and make miracle food from humble source. no exaggeration.  they eat grass and produce milk.

anyhow, such is the power of blessed food. it is infused with the nectarean vibration of the hours of vedic chants. truly sweets from seventh heaven. no wonder even doctor ji allow us to partake it during panchakarma. unless you are going thru some intensely intense treatment, like drinking ghee.

a moment of life well lived.

millions of lives can be lived. but for what purpose if there's no breakthrough? break what through? break through what? what is breakthrough? really. eight days into the high holy days i realize every stronger than before that all i want is to simply stay anchored in my own true nature. there's only one question to ask if i had to make a choice about something. does this take me closer to what i am? or missing the mark?

for instance, yesterday i was scrolling down the long list of email subject lines trying to look for a particular one when something catches my eye. someone in the congregation is recovering from surgery and she would appreciate calls or emails since she can't be at the high holiday services. all at once an explosion of competing forces jams my attention. no, no, no, you have so many things to do, you are behind, you don't really know this person, she won't even know who is sending her the email, don't embarrass yourself. i can't deny that there is a kernel of truth in all this jumbo mumbo of thoughts. i am running behind and the task list keeps growing. so i 'stay focused', finds what i am looking for and proceed to move forward on that task. there's nothing wrong with that. yet something keeps tugging me. a soft little voice. thirty second email. just do it. after a few rounds i get it. i am just caught up in residual tendency. my heart simply wants to sends a wellness blessing. that's all. it's the ego who is concerned about whether that person actually remembers me or not, or whether she values my blessing or not. before i know it, i feel this surge of willpower from deep within. i break through the grip of mental conditioning, glide into my heart and send forth a simple yet abundant blessing. it feels so right on the mark. it feels a moment of life well lived.

mistake now. boon later.

i thought i made a total screw up and ended up with this pot of spice water. turns out it's a huge blessing. it's been the foundation of my lunch since. it's forgiving. it's versatile. i throw in whatever veggies there are in the fridge, and i mean whatever. for instance, the stalks leftover from steaming chard leaves, leftover fresh garbanzo beans from yet another meal, even leftover noodle. best yet, leftover chicken stock, courtesy from lois after she whipped up risotto. since this is high altitude, soup is actually very good for hydrating. in the meantime i can devote more time to working on the book while making a nice lunch effortlessly. who knew something that looks so wrong one day becomes something so right a day later.

and so it is on the spiritual path. that which look terrible by all accounts at the time reveal to be boons and blessings down the line. just stay with it, stay open and stay in the present. all this is grace. all this is grace. all this is grace.

a basketball dream

great dream. a widely watched basketball final game is about to take place. i just finished speaking my mind in a direct and straightforward way to hwubby and muimui, my younger sister who died young. then the captains of both teams come to ask my blessings. i give each man a gemstone, one yellow-gold, one saffron-gold. what happens next in the dream is i find myself on my own getting to the game. i have to go through a long, narrow, dark alleyway of sorts. the moment i step onto the path i see rivers and floods of cockroaches along the wire fence running down the lane as far as eyes can see. the passageway is narrow. i have to get onto the fence, hang onto it with hands and feet and inch forward. out of nowhere wild dogs with sharp teeth get up close on the other side of the fence. but i don't feel like giving up at all. i just keep going. in the final scene i'm outside the ballpark. a nice guy from my university days comes up and says, you'll sit on the uppermost bench but, don't worry, you'll see. i nod but, within myself, i know i have a front row seat waiting for me.

i wake up. a few sparks come, one for a specific sentence, another for adding story to the upcoming plot twist, yet another is how to streamline the first chapter.

i feel really nice. very settling. i think i'm moving into a rhythm.