Solstice: owning the dark and being the light

I've noticed as the days have grown shorter and the nights longer, that I find myself listening to more introspective music like Together by Matthew Halsall and spending more time alone feels particularly nourishing. I love the long morning meditations, short evening meditations, and any time I take during the day to just stop. So much of meditation is noticing the thoughts, allowing them to be there, and disengaging. Some days the mental stimulation is greater, perhaps a creative project starts making itself known, and the practice is more challenging. Some days it could be a fear thought trying to disengage me from peace. The practice is always to acknowledge, or own it, and let it go to the best of my ability, and not beat myself up if I don't succeed. The continuity of the practice over time has created a field that allows dark thoughts to come up, and the spaciousness to not take them so seriously.

Recent dark events, physically violent acts, the outrageous lies told by our leaders, the plundering of our economy and environment to benefit those who don't need it, the denial of basic human rights to our neighbors, watching our semblance of a democracy being dismantled before our eyes, and other things too numerous to mention, can certainly feed our collective fears. As someone who does not go around killing others, it is easy for me to project all that darkness onto someone who does, assuming myself and others to be innocent victims of the systemic darkness. And, I don't hide away and close my eyes to what is happening. I'm fascinated by watching, wondering how we will get ourselves out of the mess, and contributing where I can.

If awareness is observing humanity into and out of existence like thoughts, are these dark times just a part of our collective meditation? Are we coming into being in a more complete way? Or are we taking ourselves out? Perhaps humanity is going through a cathartic shedding of its violent skin, breaking its own heart, and allowing something new to be birthed. Maybe, maybe not. Perhaps this is just the truth of this moment in time. More people are connected than ever before in our history. More people are willing to speak out against violence against women, and our planet, and each other than ever before in the history of humanity. The light is breaking through, even in this time of darkness. It is traveling around our planet at the speed of our internet connections.

Yummy Sesame-Coconut bars!

Some years ago, while Austin and I were in Ashland for the Shakespeare Festival, we came across these sesame-coconut bars at the coop. They were tasty and chewy, and when accompanied by a bite of chocolate - how much bliss could fit in your mouth at once?! So, determined to make my own, I mined the internet for sesame-coconut bar recipes. Alas, none came anywhere close. The coop in Corvallis sells a sesame bar with peanut butter, but I'm not a fan of peanuts. So experimentation began. Here is the recipe I am now using:

1 cup sesame seeds
3/4 cup coconut
4 or 5 fancy medjool dates, chopped
Put these together in a food processor to chop the dates into really fine pieces and blend it all well.
1/3 cup almond butter (or more)
Put almond butter in food processor and blend well.
Add a half cup (more or less, or none at all) chocolate chips (equal exchange is good). Blend lightly.
1 Tbs coconut oil
2 Tbs honey
Melt these together, then add to food processor.
Salt to taste.
Blend well.

This will make a crumbly bar, a little dry, and lots of folks love them that way. If you would like a bar that sticks together better, then add 4 Tbs coconut milk and blend well.

4 Tbs coconut milk (optional)
Blend well.

Put in a square baking pan lined with wax paper, press the mix together with a spatula, and bake at 325 for 23 minutes. (325 was a number picked out of the air. I know next to nothing about baking. At 23 minutes, it is turning a little brown on the edges.) They cut easier if chilled. So I put them in the freezer after the pan cools off, then turn the pan out on a cutting board to cut.

You could eat this raw, if you are into raw. I find that raw, I taste all the individual bits. When cooked, it gels into a whole different animal. The flavors mingle better.

I use them like energy bars between classes. They are also a nice gluten free dessert for friends who prefer gluten free.

If made without chocolate, I'm sure our parrot would be really appreciative of a bite!

Life... and its occasionally bumpy ride

When I used to work at a clinic that served mainly women over forty years old, I never failed to note the irony that right when most women are going through the hormonal changes of menopause, their children were deep in the agonies of puberty and adolescence. Just when a mom’s resources for staying centered, grounded in reality, and compassion are at their lowest, the children are needing herculean amounts of patience and understanding. And so, in another one of life’s practical jokes, just as I appear to be embarking on a second round of menopausal excitement, my beloved is having his own hormonal changes.

Eleven years ago, after over a year of spending every night throwing the covers off and putting them back on, over and over, all night long, and never feeling rested in the morning, of trying every natural hot-flash remedy on the market, plus traditional Chinese medicine, of upping the doses - hoping for a good night’s sleep – I gave up the search. Through it all I worked thirty-two hours a week as a nurse and taught six or seven Nia classes a week, without ever feeling fully rested. I didn’t know what ‘normal’ felt like, anymore. So, I opted for bioidentical hormone replacement therapy. The doses are titrated to the lowest dose of estrogen needed to control symptoms, plus progesterone to balance the estrogen. I have enjoyed good sleep, for the most part, and no hot flashes. At ten years into the therapy, my doctor decided it was time to wean me off, and we have been decreasing the dosage for over a year. Last March, I started having a little vaginal bleeding. I thought it was related to the hormones, and was not worried about it, but after a few months, decided to inform my doctor. She ordered tests, and in September, I found out that I had endometrial cancer. One week later, it was gone - following a hysterectomy. No need for chemo or radiation. Just gone.

I’ve tried (accidentally) to cold turkey the hormones, but the night sweats came back in a fury, even if I took half the dose. Historically, I don’t cope well with sleep deprivation, I’m not ready for that plunge into misery. So, the slow plod into allowing my body to balance hormones continues. Someday soon, I will do it on my own.

In the meantime, Austin was diagnosed with carcinoid tumors, for the second time, the same week I found out about my cancer. We have been awaiting his surgery, coming up soon. His original surgery (eleven years ago) took out all of the primary tumors they could find in his small intestine, but no lymph nodes. It is a slow growing cancer (“sluggish” is the term doctors use to describe it). You might note that 10.5 years is a long time for a cancer to reappear. It appears to have been growing in at least one lymph node. His symptoms suggest that it may be in the liver, as well, which has a much more positive prognosis, after treatment, than most cancers. (Unlike the aggressive, star shaped tumors of other cancers, carcinoids are round, and look, to me, much like sebaceous cysts. I once watched a doctor remove a large sebaceous cyst from a man's head, and it popped out and rolled across the floor. Carcinoids can behave in a similar manner. Really, sometimes they just roll across the floor and have to be recovered.) This is a neuroendocrine cancer of cells that produce different hormones and neurotransmitters, Austin’s tumors produce excessive amounts of serotonin, and possibly other things. (Another aside about carcinoids of the small intestine, that I would like to get out there: The excessive amounts of serotonin produced by the tumors cause scaring of the small bowel that is clearly visible on the outside surface. The scar tissue causes the bowel to shrink or kink at the sites of the tumors. Some people who have them experience a lot of pain when they eat, and are misdiagnosed for years with irritable bowel syndrome, or even Chron's Disease. Austin had no pain. Carcinoids are difficult to diagnose, and I have had many friends over the years with abdominal pain that could warrant an evaluation, if treatment does not appear to work.) Austin’s surgery could end up being very extensive, his doctor is the regional specialist for this type of cancer, has done lots of research on carcinoids, and was instrumental in developing treatment guidelines. He is aggressive about finding and extracting most of the tumors, as this significantly extends the life of the client (even if they don’t remove all of them). Austin has been assured that he can have a good quality, long life after removing as many tumors as possible. Still, the prospect of losing organs and parts of organs, and having his innards rearranged, is frightening for Austin. We can also assume that the excessive amount of serotonin in his system could be creating some mood changes, adding to the (justifiable) presurgical anxiety.

So, true to the ironic nature of menopause, it seems that one never goes through the change alone. There must always be more than one hormonally challenged person in a household. Austin gets to cross the threshold into some semblance of normalcy a little quicker, but with more discomfort and scars. Together we exercise religiously (I would say joyously), meditate, eat healthy, write, talk, and support each other. We have a community that provides support when we need it. We live in a beautiful environment and feel connected to the natural world. Excepting a few bumpy hormonal (and surgical) rides, life is good.

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