Moderation

Over the past few weeks, I have decided that while eating local is a wonderful thing, and that I will do it as often as possible, I'm not going to be a complete locavore. The simple fact is that I love things like oranges, bananas, mangos, and avacados. Right now, California strawberries are ripe and delicious. When I walk through the produce aisle, I can't resist the smell of ripe strawberries. My new rule of thumb is that if something is available locally, I will always choose it over something from out of state. If it's not available locally, I will buy it if it is from California or Oregon, but not if it is from Florida (or other distant states over on the other side of the country). In the case of bananas, I won't buy them from further south than Mexico. In fact, the only reason I am willing to buy them from Mexico at all is that a portion of the profits from all of the organic bananas that Ballard Market (one of my local grocery stores) carries go to a charity that promotes sustainable agriculture and good working conditions in Mexico. I can get behind that.

I still strongly believe that it's necessary to support the local economy and buy organic, sustainable food. I just can't limit myself as much as I have been when the limits feel like punishment. I didn't get into this to feel bad, but to help my planet and my health. Of course, when local products are available, I'll eat those. I can't wait for local Rainier cherries (quite possibly the most delicious fruit on the planet), and local berries. But until the local produce is ripe and ready for consumption, I'll celebrate the wonderful produce that is available from a little further away.

How Does My Garden Grow?

My garden is growing a little bit at a time, and it makes me very happy. I have basil, oregano, cilantro, peppermint, catnip, lavender, rosemary, cherry tomatoes, and strawberries. I have also planted the seeds of zucchini, carrots, broccoli, and sugar snap peas. The peas have begun to sprout (which makes sense, since they were the first seeds I planted). Soon I will have to get some sort of support structure for them to climb up, unless I want my deck to be taken over by vines.

I'm quite amazed at how well the plants are doing given how little sun my deck gets, and especially given that it had been overcast for weeks. I'm keeping my fingers crossed that they continue to do well, and that I will have a bountiful harvest this year.

Community Day

It is an annual tradition at my school to cancel classes one day in April for Community Day. Ostensibly it's a day when students, faculty, and staff come together to have fun. This year, they are having Rock Band, and volley ball, among other things. While I appreciate the idea of trying to create community at school, I have opted out of attending. I feel that I already have a strong group of friends among my classmates, and our friendships get stronger daily.

Instead of using up gas to drive 32 miles round trip, I am taking the day to nurture myself. I savored the opportunity to begin a book by my favorite author that I hadn't yet read. I sat in a patch of sunshine on the floor, with my Mico kitty in my lap, stroking his sun-warmed fur, and listening to him purr. I will work on my garden, which is doing remarkably well so far. I will clean my tub and clean out my refrigerator (not fun, but certainly necessary). I will go for a walk in Discovery Park when it gets warmer, enjoying the return of the sun after what seems like an eternity of rain. I will spend the evening with close friends, being nerds and playing D&D. And I will gleefully anticipate the arrival of Atropa Belladonna whom I will see tomorrow.

I can't think of a better way to spend my day, and I am filled with a sense of contentment.

Living Inside Hope

"...the very least you can do in your life is to figure out what you hope for. And the most you can do is live inside that hope. Not admire it from a distance but live right in it, under its roof. What I want is so simple I almost can't say it: elementary kindness. Enough to eat, enough to go around. The possibility that kids might one day grow up to be neither the destroyers nor the destroyed. That's about it. Right now I'm living in that hope, running down its hallway and touching the walls on both sides."

-Barbara Kingsolver from Animal Dreams


When I made the decision to become an acupuncturist, I honestly didn't spend a lot of time thinking about it. When I knew it was right, I knew it was right; it came to me in a flash of inspiration from my Goddess, and I had no need to question it. I did come up with a list of reasons why I wanted to go into the field, mostly to placate my parental units rather than to make sense of it to myself. Chinese Medicine is my calling - no other word encompasses the full meaning of my experience. Job, career, vocation... these are all too small to describe how I can no longer see myself doing anything else. From the first day of school orientation until now, every day that I get to learn about Eastern medicine, every needle that I put into a classmate, every patient I see, my soul sings in ecstasy.

I used to think that in order to be happy with my life, I would have to do something epic and bold that would capture the attention of the planet and hopefully save Earth and humanity from all its trials. Naturally, I became discouraged. Talk about setting myself up to fail! Thankfully, I've recently had something of an epiphany. Not too long ago, I commented on a blog that, "The purpose of healing, in my opinion, is not to prolong life indefinitely, but to improve quality of life so that everyone has the chance to live up to their full potential." Imagine that. Imagine being able to truly help the people you meet, giving them the foundation and the tools they need to fulfill their divine purpose. It isn't change on a massive scale - it's not a cataclysmic flood that garners attention, awe, and fear, and leaves chaos in its wake. It's the expectation of spring, nurturing a seed into a sprout, encouraging a bud to blossom. It's bringing hope where there was despair and joy where there was pain. It's healing the world one person at a time and having faith that they will each make contributions of their own. It's living inside hope.

My First Clinic Shift

I had my first clinic observation shift this morning, and it was amazing. I had been thinking that it would profoundly suck to have to be at clinic by 8:45AM on Saturdays, but if today is any indication, it's not going to be a problem at all.

As an observer, or secondary, my job is to assist the primary (the student who is doing the intake and inserting the needles). My tasks today included changing the linens in the room, filling out the superbills (a form used for insurance billing), doing moxa, getting supplies for the room, and swabbing points with alcohol. While the tasks themselves weren't very exciting, getting to have contact with patients was fantastic. I truly wanted to help the patients with their problems, and it was wonderful being part of their healing process. Being in clinic today made it 100% clear that I'm going into the right profession.

Everything I've learned until today has been theory. Today, I got to see acupuncture in action, and I got to be part of figuring out a treatment plan for the patients (albeit a small one. I've only been at this for 6 months). My primary seems like he's going to be great to work with. He's very helpful and understanding of the fact that this is all new to me, he's open to things that I have to contribute, and he's got a good sense of humor. My supervisor (the licensed acupuncturist who, well... supervises us) also seems great, and I've only heard positive things about her.

Basically, I think that I would be content doing this all day every day. I know I'm extra enthusiastic because it's shiny and new, but frankly, today didn't feel like work.