Party With the Parrots & Heal With the Hawks

scritch oo

Would you like to host a Taken Under Wing House Party?

It’s like a Tupperware party, but with Bird Essences. 

You and your guests will sample the 17 Bird Essences while Dr. Tarakali and the Advisory Birds share intuitive insights and wise, silly stories.


Bird Essences are potent tinctures (made with channeled bird energy, brandy and spring water) designed to enhance your wellness routines and spiritual practices.

Each Bird Essence activates subtle, steady shifts in your energy body. Our irreverent bird allies are eager to teach us new ways to play and transform. You can read the essence descriptions here.

Find out more at or (510) five-nine-four-6812.

Doorways to Liberation

I love liberation.
I have sought out liberation in all its forms for as long as I can remember.

I love relative liberation. Earthly liberation. Oh, I have not actually met it. Nor has anyone I know.

But I have longed for and ardently pursued social justice all my life; I believe in liberation for all oppressed beings.

That all may live in safety and sufficiency, free to express, create and contribute, each according to their nature.

Captured by Fanny Lou Hamer’s words, “Nobody’s free until everybody’s free.”

Captured by Green Tara’s outstretched foot, ready to leap into the relative world to end the suffering of beings.

I love absolute liberation. Liberation from duality. To be free from hope and fear.

Unfettered by the constricted vantage point of “me,” the star of my ongoing soap opera.

Captured by the Bodhisattva vow to remain on the earthly wheel of rebirth until all beings are free.

Captured by the Heart Sutra, which declares, “Form is emptiness, emptiness is form, form is none other than emptiness, emptiness is none other than form.”

And, “Gone, gone, gone beyond, gone completely beyond, oh great awakening!”

When I recite the Heart Sutra, I tear up. Just the title of Franklin Merrell-Wolff’s book, The Philosophy of Consciousness Without an Object makes me happy.

Absolute liberation is what I intuited at age seventeen, when I wrote, “Deep screams of hearts breaking, sorrow of generations compel me—I must not drown, I must find a way.”

Relative and absolute liberation are intertwined. Today I reflect upon absolute liberation.

Although absolute liberation is ineffable and unknowable, sometimes we get glimpses.

I have been blessed with glimpses now and again. When I stumble upon the absolute and lose myself in it, it spits me out again like Pacific waves that suck you in and toss you out.

Liberation is sublime and fleeting.
“I” keep forgetting about it.

Or I remember and wait hungrily for the next doorway to liberation. I grope for a doorknob for days, weeks, months, years, decades…

Suddenly the door opens, and I am swept through it. Small me absorbed into vastness. Identities temporarily (or permanently) melt.


The third of Zen Buddhism’s Four Great Vows declares: “The Dharma gates are boundless—I vow to open them.”

Those boundless doors to liberation include the natural world; contemplative practices, love—romantic and otherwise; loss, death; and suffering. And many more.

Places of natural beauty can open the door. Desert skies, lakes, oceans, snowy mountains, and lush forests.

Prayer, contemplation or meditation can open the door.


Sometimes love opens the door.

Agenda-less love. Romantic love. New parent love. Critter love.

I was 29 when I fell in forbidden, impossible love. Prophetic dreams and unlikely events threw us together. Loss was certain, imminent. Yet I gave myself utterly, drunk on our summer rain: each time we made love, the skies opened and drenched the earth with heaven’s music. We felt our flesh radiate blessings to all beings in every dimension.

Love can be a little death; great love can be a great death. When my lover left me, my life disintegrated: my home, job, friendships, name and identity fell away. I was propelled thousands of miles into a new life.



Sometimes loss opens the door. Or a series of losses.

In 2011, my mother died and my dearest friend broke up with me.

In 2012, I lost Tigger, my bird-friend of nine years, and my home of twelve years.

In 2013, Tigger’s mate also passed. I was birdless for the first time in fourteen years. Gone all those sweet call and response whistles that are integral to life with birds.

No more trills of reassurance and belonging: “Are you there? I am here.” “Is all well? All is well.” 


2014 was loss on steroids.

In February I brought a special needs baby bird home; he died soon after we bonded.

An April bike accident stole my health and motivation for months.

In summer, my certain refuge–the lake I swam at daily–was closed by toxic algae.

By September I had let another baby parrot crawl into my heart. She died in October.  [Thank goodness for her sister Zee, who chose to live, to live with me.]

And in 2015, sleep became elusive, hard-won.


So much loss, year after year.

The friction of loss can bring glimpses of non-duality. We rub up against fundamental questions like:

How do I go on when the one I love is gone?

Who am I without my narcissistic mom? So much of what I am is the daughter who resented her, who defended against her.

Who am I without my bird-friends? So much of what I am is the woman who shares her life with birds.

Who am I without a lake to swim in?  So much of what I am is the one immersed in the lake, who flies beside ducks and turtles.

Who am I without the certainty of sleep? So much of what I used to be was rested.

What happens to identities stripped of their physical objects?

What is a swimmer with no lake? A motherless child?  A sleeper who cannot sleep?

What is left of me when the parent, the beloved, the lake, the certainty of sleep are gone?

What remains of this consciousness I call “me?”



Sometimes death opens the door. Dissolution can release us from a particular form.

I have written elsewhere of how the deaths of two of my bird companions loosened my ordinary, subject-object consciousness a little.

When my mother died, I went through many changes. The most surprising change was my relief that she was beyond my protection. Nothing could hurt her anymore.

Like a hidden vault opening, I remembered as a child, silently agreeing to protect her from

my suffering. To shield her from how much she had harmed me.

Now relief flooded me; a long-held exhalation rushing out. Permission to be thoroughly angry at her. On the spot I wrote a song called “Vampire Mom.”

I sang that song over and over in the days that followed, melting a glacier of grief and rage.

That momentum carried me “beyond, completely beyond” my mother’s daughter. My mother and I were finally free from that messed up dynamic.

Much more of my aliveness became available to me after that. Including, strange to say (since I did not seek it), forgiveness for my mom. A sense of peace about her.


Sometimes suffering opens the door.

Sometimes you suffer unbearably, endlessly from some absurd, arbitrary torment, or ridiculous injustice. Then, finally it’s over. Or maybe it continues. It doesn’t matter, because you have crossed the threshold.

Did that grit-storm sand down your soul? Somehow, you’ve let go. Horror is redeemed as you find yourself standing, relieved and grateful.

“Gone beyond, gone completely beyond” is not just an expression. Liberation is a movement beyond reactivity, the breeze that melts our resentment.

Liberation allows us, no matter why or how much we have suffered, to choose how we meet life.

Shedding that victim stance is waking from a nightmare. Our gaze widens out into spaciousness and generosity, a new way of being that is audacious and exhilarating.



You have probably noticed that most of the doorways I describe are difficult doorways.

Perhaps there is more to say about struggle than ease. Perhaps I require a lot of pressure to crack open.

But there are myriad small, subtle doorways beckoning to us in each moment. A sweet gaze. Sunlight on water. A difficult truth revealed. A baby, of any species, surrendered in sleep.

Many doors to liberation. Never the same door twice.

“No,” he said, “I don’t think it will be any good trying to go back through the wardrobe door to get the coats. You won’t get into Narnia again by that route. Nor would the coats be much use by now if you did!

Eh? What’s that? Yes, of course you’ll get back to Narnia again someday…But don’t go trying to use the same route twice. Indeed, don’t try to get there at all. It’ll happen when you’re not looking for it.”

~C.S. Lewis, The Lion the Witch and the Wardrobe.

Bird Energy Medicine Playshop

Bird Medicine for Healing & Transformation

When: Tuesday, September 29: 7-9 pmscritch ooWhere: Rockridge, North Oakland

Dr. Tarakali’s lifelong relationship with birds recently took a surprising turn. She was inspired (badgered, actually) by her bird friends (the “Bird of Directors” or “Advisory Birds”) to create 16 essence tinctures called Taken Under Wing.

Like Rescue Remedy, bird essences are energy medicine, in this case the channeled energy of specific birds, including parrots, owls and raptors.

Each Taken Under Wing tincture embodies a unique aspect of avian wisdom that the birds are eager to share with humans (and other beings) to support healing and transformation.

The 16 essences include Nourishing Partnership, Slow Down, Badass Female, Agency-in-Disability, Altar Eagle, Hunter-Healer (to enhance healing insight), Liberation Beyond Form, Good Death, Preening, Adorable Owl, Taken Under Wing (for mentoring), and others.

Zee HH

In this playshop Dr. Tarakali and the Advisory Birds will share intuitive insights and anecdotes, while guests sample the essences and experience bird energy medicine.

If you like, Dr. Tarakali and the “Advisory Birds” will recommend an appropriate essence for your temperament and situation.

Space is limited
Playshop Cost: $20

To register, contact Dr. Tarakali at
or (510) 594-6812

Sacred Disruptions

Kali, the Sacred Disruptor

Kali Ma is showing up in my life again.

Kali is the ferocious Hindu deity of illuminating darkness; a destroyer of illusions. Her ruthless compassion cuts through our obliviousness to how things really are.

On the spiritual path, Kali uses shake-ups and transformations to destroy subject-object consciousness and restore our intimacy with all things. Her path to liberation is swift and challenging.

Kali Ma can also represent a fierce advocacy for justice, as demonstrated by an amazing art installation projected onto the Empire State Building.

I came across these images right in between a difficult confrontation with my landlord, and a silent meditation retreat with my teacher.

When my landlord refused to honor his legal and ethical responsibilities to his tenants, I spoke up, even though I was frightened of repercussions. He yelled at me, calling me a “pain in the ass” for insisting that he listen and take action.

At the retreat my teacher invoked Kali several times. He explained that we need to open to her in order to awaken; that more of us need to embody her:

“We do not have many (Kali-style) teachers who can destroy our positive and negative storylines; lack of self-interest is required. A true guru will destroy the things inside you that veil your consciousness.”

This destroyer role is not only for teachers. Any of us can drop our self-interested fear and embody Kali when we or our people are in danger. Or when ”other” peoples and beings are harmed. Sometimes we need to shake things up and wake people up. Sometimes we need to fight.

Being a Disruptor

I had to fight at the retreat. I have some life-threatening food allergies. The host organization for the retreat forbids any outside food, and refuses to post the ingredients of the meals they provide. A double-bind for those of us with food allergies.

I explained this to the retreat administrators before the retreat. After much back and forth, they promised that the host organization would post a notice at any meal where my allergens were present, so that I could safely avoid them. I would still be out of luck if I could not eat the meal, but it was something.

This promise was retracted at the retreat. We were told that we would have to use handwritten signs (it was a silent retreat) to find out the ingredients of each meal.

We were told, “you will just have to work with it,” the implication being that this would be part of our spiritual practice. Then the food coordinator said to me, “I know how you feel, I have food sensitivities too.”

I pointed out that they had broken their promise to advocate for those of us with allergies, and had put the onus on each of us to protect ourselves.

She frowned as I spoke my truth. She obviously expected me to accept this ridiculous situation—and her acquiescence to it–with grace. Was this her idea of non-attachment? What nonsense.

She and the other retreat organizers expected us to sacrifice our basic safety and/or nourishment, and to silently find out each meal’s ingredients from the ever-changing kitchen staff roster.

They expected us to potentially forego some meals. Why should I sacrifice the truth to make her feel comfortable? She ought to feel uncomfortable about abandoning those of us with food allergies.

I walked away, muttering to myself with a mixture of self-righteousness and matter-of-fact anger. The food coordinator also had food sensitivities, yet she clearly expected me to “suck it up.”

So I made up a story about her. It could well be a projection on my part. Pure fiction. But, I have known plenty of WASP (white anglo saxon protestant) women like her, like me, who do fit my story.

White women who were taught as little girls to never make waves; to always be “good” girls. Not unruly, never disruptive. To keep the adults comfortable.

A Reflection

To white girls like I was, to white women like me, and to any other readers who have had to “suck it up” for someone else’s comfort, I offer this reflection:

Have you ever?

Have you ever been marginalized and betrayed? Asked to sacrifice your basic needs?

Have you ever been expected to act like everything is okay, as if you are content to be overlooked and abandoned?

Have you been expected to act like a pious, gracious, “good girl” while others dismissed your need to be alive or safe or fed, to express yourself, be cuddled, or have alone time, or space to daydream?

Probably all of us have. Being overlooked is a quintessential childhood experience. Even more so for girl children, trans children, poor children, children of color, children with disabilities.

When you had needs that did not fit the family or community or dominant institutions status quo. When you were called “weird” or “high maintenance.” When grown-ups decided you were “other.”

Those grown-ups looked at you, then through you. In their eyes you were a nuisance, a danger. A disruption of the familiar. They abandoned you. They made it clear: no exceptions, no accommodations will be made for you.

You were expected to accept your own sacrifice. To shut up, smile and make nice.

Fast forward to adulthood, long after you had internalized those messages: fit in; “suck it up;” don’t expect special treatment.

A Reparative Re-do Exercise

Now I am asking you to do a “re-do.”

Find a friend (or use a journal as your listening “friend”) and try out this practice:

Set aside 20-30 minutes for each of you. Choose who will speak and who will listen for this round.

It’s time for you to tell your story. Call up one of those times (either in childhood or more recently) when you were expected to roll with it as others rolled over you.

As your partner listens, express the feelings and sensations that you had at the time. You may feel grief or rage. You may feel your longing to be seen and loved. Do not hold back! This time you get to be heard and seen.

For now, don’t make excuses for those grown-ups or those who had power over you. This is your time, your space.

Your partner’s role is to ground themselves and receive your truth; to midwive your memories and realizations, to be moved by your long-untold story.

Feel the sensations in your body as you tell them how you were just trying to be, and instead were silenced, ignored or punished. If you feel like clenching your fists, stomping your feet, yelling or crying, go ahead.

Feel your spine lengthening as you take your dignity back.

Now imagine the child that you were back then being encouraged to speak up. Imagine yourself offering those grown-ups an amazing opportunity to open their hearts and widen their vision.

Imagine them freed from the limitations imposed on them by their caregivers. As they listen to you, they stop expecting you to sacrifice yourself. They are liberated, too.

Then switch roles.

After you both have had a turn, debrief your experience, sharing any insights or new self-commitments you are ready to make.  Thank one another.

This practice is one way to reclaim our disavowed outrage, our childhood grief at having to sacrifice our health or safety or dignity to placate oblivious adults.

While we are at it, let’s reclaim our quirks, special needs, gifts, and inborn vocations that were/still are our beauty and our power. Your uniqueness lives in your bones, the same bones that hold your shape.

When I Have My Own Back I Am Okay With You Having Yours
I have found that practices like this one increase my capacity to tolerate others’ rage at
injustice and accept the necessary disruptions of “business as usual” that are core to
social justice work.


Finding my own dignified, dissenting voice has shifted some of that infamous “white

into appreciation for collective wake up calls by groups like
These wake up calls are ferociously loving invitations to grow our courage and authentic

belonging: “Join the human family—join us in healing ancient injustices.”

These invitations deserve to be met with a robust presence that is willing to be changed.

To access this robustness, I need to know I will fight for me! I need to know I have my

own back, that I will insist that my needs are acknowledged.

Knowing I will fight for myself has given me more internal room, more relaxed spacious

room to welcome disruptions of my business as usual, my status quo.

And you need to know that you will fight for you.

But it is not just about fighting. It’s also about grieving. We must have room to grieve

having been sacrificed and abandoned. Grief brings business as usual to a standstill. As it

(As it must if this planet is to survive. People with disabilities, forgotten people,

“disposable” people, island people, walruses and bees are screaming, wailing, pounding

at the smug, violent, oblivious corporate culture to STOP. Stop killing us all.)

Reclaiming our willingness to fight and grieve for ourselves enables more resilient

responses to sacred disruptions, whether by activists, tenants or children.

Knowing you have your own back helps you to recognize the “calling in” within “calling out.”

Sacred Disruptions Make Us Uncomfortable

A class mate of mine was upset with me one day for asking the class to treat me in a

different way than the established class norm. I had asked the group to ask me for my
consent before giving me advice or assessments. He was offended that I wanted “special


After our teacher encouraged him to dig deeper, it turned out his family and culture had
required him to sacrifice beloved parts of himself in order to belong. Anything else would

have been seen as “disloyal.” So he took my request as a rejection of him and the group.

As often happens when someone disrupts the status quo, some classmates initially

judged and blamed me for making them uncomfortable.

Our teacher then pointed out that “everyone has special needs; everyone can benefit
when someone opens up the possibility that we can ask for what we need.”

Such “special treatment” is not special at all, but is appropriately responsive to each

individual’s unique strengths and limitations.

My teacher told me that my request was vulnerable and courageous, and had opened up

space for others to ask for what they needed.

My “inner child” was touched to receive appreciation for being disruptive (!) and taking

care of myself. Wow. The class’s intense response to my request sparked a profound and

lively discussion.

Receiving Sacred Disruptions

So now, I entreat you and myself: do not dismiss those who are different. Slow down,

listen to them. Allow yourself to be changed by them.

People with food sensitivities who need some TLC, people in wheelchairs who want to

attend, trans people who want to “pass” but cannot.


You are—or soon will be—different too. You will fall ill, you will age, you will lose your

money or your home, or your best friend will commit suicide.

You will be different, and you will need special consideration/accommodation. You will

need it and you will either demand it and insist on being seen,


you will follow the old script, “suck it up,” and sacrifice yourself. You will accept the

notion that your difference is an imposition, a nuisance. That you are on your own.

Your secret resentment will insist that others “suck it up” too. You had to. How dare they

ask for more?

And the cycle continues.

Oh no I say! You are NOT on your own. None of us is. Each of us who cries out to be seen,
whether in a harsh or trembling voice, opens the circle for ALL of us to be seen. In this

way you redeem us.

Following Kali Ma’s Lead

If you already know you are different, if you’ve never been allowed to forget even for a

second that you don’t belong, I’m asking you to love yourself and your difference. Love
your humanness that does not fit the status quo.

Please do NOT sacrifice yourself! Instead grieve for yourself. Fight for yourself! Fuel your

fight with love. Tenacious, ferocious love.

A love that knows you deserve care and consideration; knows that the people who you

disrupt deserve to expand their hearts to include difference. Your loving insistence is a

gift to them, their compassion wake up call.

Persist. Don’t wear yourself out, don’t do it all by yourself, but persist. Pray, play and
persist. For the sake of all beings, do not let others dehumanize you. Let your love for

yourself, just as you are, be ferocious and patient.

Ferocious like Kali Ma, whose outrage transforms injustice. Unlike the deities I was

taught to worship as a child, Kali does not sacrifice herself, or her children.

We are here to wake up our neighbors’ empathy and love. That is what “love thy neighbor

as thyself” means to me now–to be a sacred disrupter.

So yes, Mr. Landlord, I proudly accept your name for me. I AM a pain in the ass. I gladly

follow Kali Ma’s lead.
Click here to find out more about Vanissar Tarakali’s coaching and teaching work.


Last month I quoted Jesus from The Gospel According to Thomas, where he says:

“If you bring forth what is within you, what is within you will save you.
If you do not bring forth what is within you, what is within you will destroy you.”

I talked about the ruptured relationships and social injustices that can occur when we fail to “bring forth” the fears and biases hidden within ourselves and the dominant culture.

I also shared the concept of Alaya or “storehouse consciousness.” Alaya is like an ocean of unconscious kleshas (mental states that cloud the mind) that are individual, ancestral and collective. These below-the-radar thoughts, intentions and implicit biases shape our behavior.

When we are triggered, our kleshas abruptly emerge as thoughtless or cruel actions. Since most of us want to see ourselves as a “good” person at all costs, it is common to instantly forget these actions.

My own father exemplified this dynamic. He would abuse me late at night, then express caring and concern for me during daylight hours.

This instant-amnesia prevents us from making amends or changing our behavior, whereas unearthing our kleshas supports choice and agency.

Below I share some principles and practices to quicken this unearthing process, this “evil twin” taming process, for the sake of personal wellbeing, relational healing and social justice.

How To Unearth & Tame Your Evil Twin(s): Principles


Principle 1: Unearthing Takes a Lot of Energy

Some of the most helpful changes I have made in my life started with painful realizations that arose during a silent meditation retreat, where I had enough time–and more importantly, energy–for something new to emerge.

Make no mistake, self-archeology takes enormous energy. Retreat allows me to lean on the collective energy of a group that is focused on waking up, and on the steady energy of my teacher, who holds and encourages, goads and invites.

The retreat structure, which includes specific roles, schedules and collective meals, means I expend less energy than usual on logistics. The silence allows me to release the ordinary social interactions that consume so much energy. Every bit of that freed up energy is needed for practice.

Within this retreat container, profound excavations are possible. Some of the material I have discovered in myself while on retreat is so unthinkable, so unacceptable to my surface personality that I cannot keep it in my awareness unless I write it down. I cling to my pen and journal for dear life.

This, plus the sangha, teachings, silence and my teacher’s presence, ground me enough that I can stay with it, breathing, writing, crying, shaking, doula-ing this alarming newborn into daylight.

Principle 2: Unearthing Takes Curiosity and Compassion

As we saw last month, Anam Thubten suggests “inviting our hidden thoughts to tea.” This welcoming host attitude can prevent shame, and that’s a good thing, because that emotional *zing!* of shame distracts us from noticing our harmful thoughts and behaviors.

To gaze steadily at our evil twins requires curious and compassionate eyes.

Compassion develops our capacity to face and feel what we dread being or becoming. Curiosity helps us ask, “What makes me so fearful that I lash out?” Or, “Why does self-righteousness feel so intoxicating?”

If we cannot feel it–all of it–then we have no toehold to change it. Our evil twins will continue to ambush us and destroy what we care about.

Principle 3: Unearthing Takes Patience and Persistence

Potent *aha* moments do not happen everyday; they are sandwiched between mundane awareness practice. Transformation arises from “dojo style” learning, where you practice the same thing over and over, throughout your life.

We need to regularly set time and energy aside in order to keep evolving.

Even when *ahas* arrive, we tend to forget them. So we need reminders. We likely will have to encounter the same material again and again before can integrate that *aha* into daily life.

An Unearthing Story

Once near the end of a grueling week-long retreat, I encountered a particularly hard-to-grasp, hard-to-stay-with knot of kleshas. I needed to employ all three principles of big energy, curiosity/compassion and patience/persistence to process the experience.

I uncovered an unexpected, ancient, deeply rooted aversion to being in a human body. A disgust at being exiled on this planet. An anguished, arrogant refusal to be confined in material reality.

The experience was so intense it was frightening; the information almost too painful to receive. And ironic, since I am someone who encourages folks to “befriend your body, trust your body, be with it as it is.”

It was a shock for me to uncover within my own alaya such revulsion and contempt for the limitations of bodies. To find within myself such a huge NO to Life.

I had to work hard to stay with this and suspend my disbelief that I was harboring such attitudes, but once I was able to just be with it, I had a memory of “me” becoming form as I was conceived. This memory was traumatic.

I remembered thinking, “Why would anyone want to return to this quicksand swamp, where horrific things happen everywhere to everyone throughout their lives?”

This reclamation-process was not fun. It was hard work. Yet it stretched me in a positive way. I felt an empathy and tenderness for us matter-bound humans that remains with me and enriches my work with people.

And I have noticed that since that experience, I am inhabiting my body more fully, and enjoying this earthly life more and more. Embracing that contemptuous “evil twin” has relaxed its grip on me.

How to Unearth & Tame Your Evil Twin(s): Practices*


Setting Intentions

Intentions are powerful tone-setting practices. You can link your declared intentions to something or someone you care about. Here are some intention examples:

  • Set the intention to gradually and steadily unearth the attitudes and fears that lie within you.
  • Each day, choose to take responsibility for your thoughts and emotions.
  • Establish a host attitude, and welcome your hidden negative beliefs to come to the surface.
  • Give yourself permission to feel taboo feelings, think taboo thoughts, and commit yourself to bear witness to them. 
  • Make a commitment to honor and express your unearthed kleshas without harming anyone, including yourself. Embracing and celebrating kleshas sucks the poison out of them. (Check out the final practice in this list.) 

Body Scans

1) Take time each day to sit or lie quietly and scan your body with your breath. When you find places where your breath catches, keep your attention there, breathing gently until the “catch” softens. You can also hum into the catches until they soften.

2) Scan your body for areas of muscular tightness; notice the sensations in these areas. Silently say “yes” to the contractions, thank them for their efforts, and move on. You can also hum into the contractions until they soften.


According to Anam Thubten, “calm abiding” meditation enables us to become aware of our concealed, deeply rooted tendencies.

Other Somatic Practices

1) TRE or Trauma Release Exercises are designed to heal trauma stored in the body without needing to talk about or mentally revisit the trauma. What a relief to be able to bypass our thinking mind!

I have found that these exercises also release other energies stored in the body, and I suspect this practice has the potential to unearth deeply rooted fears and negative beliefs.

You can learn TRE from this DVD:

2) Project whatever is emerging onto an object in the room. (I often use my ficus tree; she doesn’t mind.) Start with your back turned to it, and very, very gradually, start turning towards it, as if you are about to look at it directly. All the while, feel your sensations.

If it becomes too intense, pause and feel your sensations. Give yourself permission to stop the practice at any point.                            

Continue the practice if it feels okay, stopping at any point(s) it becomes too much. You may or may not end up directly facing what is emerging the first few times you do this.  Do not pressure yourself to “arrive.”What you discover during the practice is far more important than“completing” it.If what is emerging feels too big or scary, you might want to wait and have a friend or therapist with you when you do this.

Practices to Try When Something Barely Bearable Emerges

1) Self talk can be helpful. You can tell yourself:

  • Whatever emerges is my lifeforce—it is me. I am therefore big enough to meet it.
  • This emerging form is–at its heart–neutral energy, however camouflaged or misshapen it has become. I can learn how to move this energy through or out of my body.
  • 2) Practice compassionately holding and soothing yourself and your sensations until you get really good at it. (You might imagine a bigger-than-you version of you is embracing your body/mind.)
  • Then, use this practice when you have a strong aversion to what is emerging. For example, you could compassionately “hold” the part of you that is saying, “No! This cannot be so! I despise it!” or, “No! This cannot be in me or of me!”
  • 3) Try to externalize and express whatever is emerging. Get it outside of you, and give it all the room it needs by singing, dancing, drawing, journal writing, screaming silently, humming.
  • Make sounds or movements that match your internal experience or sensations. Or make a collage of one or more of your “evil twins,” and have fun with it! Externalizing and expressing can be both grounding and illuminating.

*Special Note: If you are struggling with mental health challenges right now, or struggling every day just to survive or stay grounded, it is probably not the appropriate time to invite hidden kleshas to emerge.

It is wise to wait until your life has stabilized and you have steady, reliable support. I recommend that you consult with your therapist, psychiatrist or spiritual advisor before you engage the intentions and practices I have described.

Much gratitude to Phyllis Pay, Denise Benson, Anam Thubten, and my courageous clients, who continually teach me.
To schedule an in person or remote appointment with Dr. Tarakali, go to www.vanissar. com


scritch oo


Dr. Tarakali’s lifelong relationship with birds recently took a surprising turn. She was inspired (badgered, actually) by her bird friends (the “Bird of Directors” or “Advisory Birds”) to create 16 essence tinctures called Taken Under Wing.

Similar to Rescue Remedy, bird essences are energy medicine, in this case the channeled energy of specific birds, including parrots, owls and raptors.

Each Taken Under Wing  tincture embodies a unique aspect of avian wisdom that the bird friends are eager to share with humans (and other beings) to support healing and transformation.



Each Taken Under Wing  tincture embodies a unique aspect of avian wisdom that the bird friends are eager to share with humans (and other beings) to support healing and transformation.

The 16 essences (made from bird essences, 80% spring water, and 20% raspberry or pear infused brandy) include: 

Nourishing Partnership (parrot medicine): for balanced, reciprocal relationships.

Slow Down (eagle medicine): for grounding that embodies vast expansiveness into vast depths.

Bad-ass Female (hawk medicine): for unapologetic, relaxed, ferocious feminine power (for all genders).

Agency-in-Disability (parrot medicine): to access agency/joy within circumstances of chronic pain, illness or disability.

Altar Eagle: for moving back and forth seamlessly between ordinary life/tasks and visionary, big picture activities and experiences.

Hunter-Healer (owl medicine):  for healers and self-healers, enhances the ability to gently and precisely discern subtle wounds and root sources of trauma and illness.

Liberation Beyond Form (parrot medicine): support to release old identities and ways of being after the death of a loved one or the dissolution of a familiar relationship, job, home, etc.

Good Death (parrot medicine): for a loving, connected dying process that unfolds on your terms.

Preening (parrot & raptor medicine): for meditation, re-aligning body/mind/spirit with your nature and the universe, bestowing blessings with your presence.

Adorable Owl: allowing yourself to be adored; radiant self-love that invites others to experience their adorableness.

Taken Under Wing (parrot medicine): for healthy, evolving mentor/mentee and parent/child relationships.

Healer’s Friend (Combination formula: Hunter Healer and Altar Eagle): support for healers of all kinds to do profound, visionary and grounded work.




I want to write about self-ignorance.
Self-ignorance is ordinary and potentially destructive:

Ordinary because we all harbor unknown beliefs and attitudes; Potentially destructive because this unexplored territory is filled with landmines.

I believe Jesus is talking about self-ignorance in The Gospel According to Thomas, where he says:

“If you bring forth what is within you, what is within you will save you. If you do not bring forth what is within you, what is within you will destroy you.”

I am prone to self-ignorance as much as anyone, but the first time I identified its destructive power, it was at work in someone else. A few months after my mother died in 2011, my dear friend of 25 years—a consistently supportive, compassionate friend–dropped me.

My friend Risa (as I will call her), had taught me to embrace human complexity and contradiction.

But now she accused me of falsely grieving the loss of my mother. With eloquent zeal, she wrote to me, “We have always hated our mothers! You cannot be suffering her loss. You are either lying or deluding yourself.” She demanded that I admit that I was not in pain about my mother’s death.

I hadn’t known what to expect from the grieving process, but now that I was in it, I let it unfold without censorship. I told Risa this. I wrote to her that, as far as I could tell, the root-shaking fear and sadness was real.

I asked her to respect that I was being authentic, and doing what I needed to do.  In her (final) response to me, she said it was time for us to part ways. She refused any further contact.

Wow. I did not know this ruthless, judgmental Risa. It was as if a stranger had hijacked her.

Whatever was going on with her made her willing to lose our precious shared history. And so I met the destroyer aspect of self-ignorance.

I now know that when we come up against something that is intolerable to feel, we will do anything to avoid feeling it—anything. Even discard a longstanding friendship.

Somehow my response to my mother’s death caused Risa to feel something she couldn’t tolerate. She had to get rid of me.

I lost my mom and my close friend that year. Ironically, Risa made certain that I had something “authentic” to grieve about.

Something similar happened recently with a beloved neighbor. I was dealing with a crisis, and she took it personally. For her, my crisis was “too close to home.” She was terrified that my misfortune would rub off, even though this was extremely unlikely.

She showed up at my door on the second day of my crisis.
I was exhausted and overwhelmed, wondering if I could endure the marathon of challenges before me. In this vulnerable state I opened the door to my kind neighbor.

But my kind neighbor launched into a tirade of righteous scolding. She blamed my crisis on my “irresponsible” actions and pronounced our friendship at risk. She said, “This is a dealbreaker.”

Her words struck me down. She did not seem to notice me crouching on the floor, trying not to faint.

Where was my empathic, helpful neighbor? Who was this mean stranger? Nothing in her manner conveyed even the most basic recognition of my humanity or situation.

She finished condemning me and left.

I deliberately avoided my neighbor after that. I was trying to protect my heart and save my emotional energy for the difficult weeks ahead.

Eventually I ran into her, and she said she had missed me, and hoped that our friendship could “get back to normal” once my crisis was resolved. She did not apologize for her tirade, nor she did she offer any comfort or assistance.

I blurted out my doubts that our friendship could ever go back to what it was; her words had hurt my feelings so terribly. She seemed confused to hear this. Offended. As if she had no memory of how cruel she had been.

is true that my kind neighbor did not deserve my mistrust. But my cruel neighbor did.

Thinking of her as two personas, Kind Neighbor and her evil twin, Cruel Neighbor, helped me make sense of her behavior.

What do I mean by evil twin?
I mean what Jesus meant when he said: “If you do not bring forth what is within you, what is within you will destroy you.”

Destroy you, or your relationships.

Given the right stimulus, such as being profoundly triggered, your deeply buried fears and beliefs can erupt in harmful actions.

Afterwards, if you are invested in seeing yourself as a “good person” at all costs, you will likely minimize or forget how you acted (or failed to act). That hidden version of you will slip back into the shadows until the next time.

In this sense, we all have evil twins.

We can reclaim and re-purpose our evil twins.

It is in the best interest of ourselves and everyone around us to practice acknowledging, feeling and owning the hidden aspects of ourselves.

The kind of “owning” that I recommend is not the same as solidifying oneself into a static identity of an “evil” or “good” person. Although the expression “evil twin” sounds like the name for a “real” persona, I mean it half humorously.

I believe we are fluid, uncategorizeable beings. And we are choiceful beings. We can set the intention to bring what is unconscious into consciousness to minimize harm to ourselves and others.


If you do not bring forth what is within you, what is within you can be dangerous and even deadly. This holds true for communities as well as individuals.

I will speak now of my own white community/communities.
The majority of white people in North America live racially segregated lives.

This segregation prevents most white communities from witnessing firsthand the predictable, brutal treatment by police of Black and brown people. “Business as usual” policing of Black and brown people looks like habitual disrespect and disruption,torture and murder.

Police “business as usual” for white people looks very different. My experience is typical for a white woman. While I do not feel at ease with the police, my lived experience has not led me to expect that the police will gun me down if I reach for my wallet or run away. There is a vast gulf between white andBlack (and Native American and Latino) communities’ direct experience with police departments.

This combination of structural segregation and starkly different treatment by police disconnects white communities from communities of color. This double disconnect feeds the collective white self-ignorance about how our own privileged treatment co-arises with the mistreatment of Black people and people of color.

As James Baldwin wrote in 1963 in The Fire Next Time:   “Whatever white people do not know about Negroes reveals, precisely and inexorably, what they do not know about themselves.”

Thus we see the white consensus mind throughout North America has been expressing outrage over (a minority of) protesters’ vandalism and property damage, instead of outrage over the severing of a Black man’s spine, or the taking of a Black life.

If you are invested in seeing yourself as a good person at all costs, you tend to disavow or forget your unkind actions. If we are invested in seeing the justice system that serves the white community as benevolent at all costs, we tend to overlook the casual cruelty inflicted by police on communities of color. Instead, we blame the victim. White folks like me habitually turn our backs on what is being done in our name, and allow brutality to carry on in our collective shadow.

If you bring forth what is within you, what is within you will save you.

Black activists and their allies in Ferguson, Baltimore, Oakland and other places are bringing forth what is within the North American policing system.

These activists are bringing into the light the hidden (hidden only to white people) everyday police attitudes-in-action that demean and destroy people of African descent. This consciousness raising is a profound gift to all of us. Bringing forth what is within our communities will save us.

Implicit Bias

Implicit bias is another aspect of self-ignorance. Implicit bias means unconsciously harboring bias and stereotypes against a stigmatized group, such as women, Black people, people with disabilities, etc.

I find implicit racial bias in myself. It pops out of me at the slightest stimulus—for example, if I am in public, and I see a Black person I do not know, I often catch myself checking to see if my wallet is zipped.

Implicit bias is inculcated in childhood. When I was around age seven my father told me that my Ugandan friend Aggie, who was staying with my family, was a liar and a cheat.

As adults we have the power to act out implicit bias in harmful ways, some of us by how we teach students or treat patients, and some of us by how we wield a badge, taser and gun. Some of us present biased news stories.

Bringing forth the implicit racial bias that is within white communities is a life and death matter. What can we do about it?

My Buddhist teacher, Anam Thubten describes something similar to implicit bias: “There is a whole ocean of thoughts and intentions below our awareness that influences our actions and words. In the Mahayana Buddhist tradition, this “ocean” is called Alaya, or storehouse consciousness.

According to Anam Thubten, the remedy for these hidden motivations is meditation. Indeed, the whole purpose of meditation is to become aware of our concealed, deeply rooted tendencies.

As Anam Thubten says, we need to “Invite our hidden thoughts to tea.”

There is some scientific evidence that mindfulness can transform implicit racial bias.

Dealing with that ocean of hidden tendencies is a lifelong, perhaps many lifetimes long process. We cannot expect to catch all of it.

Anam Thubten explains that the “storehouse consciousness” is vast, like an iceberg of unconscious kleshas (mental states that cloud the mind) that are individual, ancestral and collective. Kleshas are meant to be unearthed, acknowledged and digested.

This long-term process of inquiry and purification requires enormous compassion, patience and humor. But we can do our best, and begin now. The stakes are too high not to.

Next month I will share some tools to quicken this unearthing process, for the sake of personal and relational healing and social justice.

You can schedule a somatic and intuitive coaching appointment or find out more about Dr. Vanissar Tarakali at



Sooner or later, we get to live intimately with “I don’t know.” Perhaps you are in one of those situations right now:

* You don’t know where you will be living next month.

* Finances teeter between prosperity and disaster. It could go either way.

* You have debilitating symptoms, and no diagnosis.

Periods of uncertainty can last for days, weeks, months, or years:

* The one you love is gravely ill…but they might get better.

* You are enduring an ordeal, with no end in sight.

* You are waiting for your court date. Waiting for justice.

I am not talking about situations where resolution is around the corner. I am talking about not knowing what will happen, not knowing what to do, not having enough information, day after day:

* Maybe your old vocation has fallen away, and no new one has emerged.

* Your body is covered in mysterious bites for weeks.

* Or your consciousness has changed in lovely and frightening ways: you no longer recognize, cannot even locate your “self.”

Here’s you, in limbo.

Certainly there are actions you can take to give you a focus. But you still must wait. You wait, fearful or bored, empty or peaceful.

I don’t know about you, but I do not tolerant uncertainty well. I always want to know, “What is happening? and, “When is it going to be over?!?”

Well let’s assume, dear reader, that “You Are Here.” Standing at “I don’t know.”

How to be with this? Of course, you will do whatever you do, and time will pass. Things will change. You can look back later and tell yourself, “This is how I got through.”

But what about right now?

It can be helpful to realize you have entered a new reality. Prolonged uncertainty initiates us into a realm of paradox and contradiction.

Mystics, poets, artists and physicists are the best guides through this realm.

So I am going to share some of their resources that helped me navigate those endless dark nights.

When there is nothing to cling to, we can still cling to poems, songs, our breath, our bones, the wind on our skin, sunlight on water.

Maybe a couple of these offerings will speak to your situation.

“I said to my soul, be still and wait without hope, for hope would be hope for the wrong thing; wait without love, for love would be love of the wrong thing; there is yet faith, but the faith and the love are all in the waiting. Wait without thought, for you are not ready for thought: So the darkness shall be the light, and the stillness the dancing.”

              The Dark Night (St. John of the Cross)

One dark night, fired with love’s longings—ah, the sheer grace!–I went out unseen, my house being now all stilled. In darkness, and secure, by the secret ladder, disguised,- ah, the sheer grace! – in darkness and concealment, my house being now all stilled. On that glad night in secret, for no one saw me, nor did I look at anything, with no other light or guide than the One that burned in my heart.

 [The entire poem is here: ]
Throw it Away (Abbey Lincoln)  


“And when I’m in a certain mood I search the halls and look. One night I found these magic words In a magic book. . . Throw it away! Throw it away. Give your life, give your love, Each and every day. And keep your hand wide open. Let the sun shine through. ‘Cause you can never lose a thing If it belongs to you…“


We’re Only Getting Started (Buffy Sainte-Marie)

Thumb-hand, human band
Can understand
Out among the far locations that the
Music’s Heaven-sent we can
Fly on instruments
Beyond our isolation and

That’s okay
No it’s not the way it could be but
That’s okay
Here and now it’s how it is and
That’s okay
It’s pretty good for kindergarten and
That’s okay
Come on, we’re only getting started


Tore Down a la Rimbaud (Van Morrison)

Showed me pictures in the gallery
Showed me novels on the shelf
Put my hands across the table
Gave me knowledge of myself.
Showed me visions, showed me nightmares
Gave me dreams that never end
Showed me light out of the tunnel
When there was darkness all around instead.

Tore down a la Rimbaud
And I wish my message would come
Tore down a la Rimbaud, you know it’s hard some time
You know it’s hard some time.


Hour Follows Hour   (Ani Difranco)


The Heart Sutra (Mahayana Buddhism)


The Gospel According to Thomas (Gnostic Christianity)

“Jesus said: He who seeks, let him not cease seeking until he finds; and when he finds he will be troubled, and when he is troubled he will be amazed, and he will reign over the All.”


Machig Lapdron’s Chod Practice (Nyingma Buddhism):

“I the fearless yogini who practices, in order to unify nirvana and samsara…Understanding the true condition, I commit myself to go beyond hope and fear.”



We can also find support within our own bodies.

This breathing practice helps the body digest paradox and contradiction:
As you breathe in, silently say “yes;” as you breathe out, silently say “no.”
Do this several times and notice your body’s mood and sensations.


Bones Meditations can be reassuring:



I hope you found something helpful here…

Maybe reading this has reminded you of songs, stories or practices that have helped you through your own periods of “I don’t know.”

If you would like to share them with me, I will post them next month.

As more of us learn to relax within–or at least tolerate–“I don’t know,” we increase the collective creativity that our times call for.

We members of this “thumb-hand human band” as Buffy Sainte-Marie calls us, are living in prolonged uncertainty.

Here we are in this vast desert of unknowing, watching the planetary and human climates heat up, ignite, perhaps to spiral out of control…

Many people have pointed out that we now need completely new solutions and paradigms. We need all the metaphoric wisdom we can get.

Perhaps your journey into the unknown is, even now, unearthing blessings for us all.

Much gratitude to my clients and students, who have shared their vulnerable stories of immersion in uncertainty.

Many thanks to those fellow travelers whose writings and songs about their own dark nights have kept me going through mine.




The Power of a Simple Yawn

I consider myself to be a student of yawning.
I believe we underestimate the importance of yawns.
When my coaching clients yawn, it is often a sign that something significant is happening.

It could be that a shift in perception or understanding is occurring.

Or that a deeply embedded body story is finally being heard.

Sometimes I verbally acknowledge what a client’s body is expressing.

I might say something like, “I notice your shoulders shifted–I wonder if they have something to say about _______?”

And then my client may have a moment of recognition, accompanied by a yawn.

Sometimes when a client listens deeply to their sensations, they discover something that their body has been trying to tell them for a long time.

And then they yawn and yawn.

Many somatic “aha” moments are followed by a series of yawns, perhaps to punctuate the moment, perhaps to midwife it. Or both.


Somatic unwinding means restoring fluidity to the body so that energy and emotions can move with ease and purpose.

Our wise animal bodies use all kinds of ways to unwind and let go, including yawning. We can trust our body’s natural impulse to yawn.

Sadly, yawns are considered impolite or inappropriate, especially if they continue longer than a few seconds.

It amazes me how thoroughly cultural norms of politeness in North America obstruct unwinding.

In the case of yawning, people nearby usually ask us if we are bored or tired. Maybe that is why most of my clients try to stifle their yawns.

Did you know that when you yawn, you release tension stored in your jaw, throat, lips, palate, ears, and even your chest and scalp?

A series of yawns can create profound relaxation in the chest, throat and face.

Yawning Before Talking

The practice of allowing yawns, especially full, wide-open yawns, is so rare that I have developed a slogan for my clients: “Yawning before talking.”

By this I mean, when a yawn shows up, it is time to drop everything and let as many yawns come as want to.

I have found that when we allow ourselves to yawn as many times as we need to, the jaw opens wider and wider. The eyes may water.

Each yawn becomes softer and easier. The mind might quiet down.

Over weeks or months, your jaw muscles can soften. You may stop grinding your teeth.

This is true softening, true unwinding. All this potential healing is present in our yawns, and it is free.

I encourage us all to allow the yawning process, as often as we can.


Thank goodness for my wise body.

I still “check-out” from my body at times. It is an old habit, born from early trauma. When a kid suffers every day, with no chance of escape, dissociation is an intelligent response.

Dissociation means turning off your sensations, muting your animal aliveness.

Like many trauma survivors, I tend to vacate my body when I am triggered. Sometimes for a moment; sometimes for days on end.

Recently, I endured a nightmarish 4+ hour dentist visit that regressed me to a miserable state—that bleak place where I lived as a child. Without registering it, I left my body.

At the time I believed I was in touch with my body. I used appropriate somatic and self-care language to talk to myself:

“Okay, I am triggered, so I need to restore safety to my body.  I have to do soothing things to reassure my animal body that it is safe.”

And I promised my traumatized (inner) kid:  “I will never take you to that dentist again.”

This was wise self-talk. I needed to follow it through. I needed to:

treat myself with kindness;

permit myself to feel small and scared;

take hot baths, do restorative yoga, hide in bed, cuddle with a friend;

carefully screen the input and energy that I let it into my space.

I needed to do all of the above, patiently and consistently, day after day. Week after week, if necessary.

Beyond Checked-out

Instead, I did some of it–for a couple of days.  Then I stopped.
I figured I was fine.

I was not fine; I was numb.

Completely checked out.

And stuck in mistrustful, pessimistic thought loops.

Gradually this experience became an identity:  I am depressed. I am a victim. I am snarky. What’s the matter with me?

Meanwhile, my body tried to get my attention: my jaw clamped up. My guts were in knots. A migraine. Terrible back pain. My body’s way of insisting that it had information for me.

It took me weeks to notice that I was *still* reacting to the dental experience. Underneath my “numb,” I felt trapped and helpless, invaded and alone.

I fought this realization, because I did not want it to be so. I “should” have gotten over the dentist by now!

Eventually I let go of my “should” and surrendered to the “what is” of my body. What a relief!

I took those baths, did the yoga, allowed that fear. I dropped my recovery deadline. It felt right. I grieved. I hid. Slowly, I thawed out.

We humans get lost in our thoughts. It is crucial to catch up to the flesh and blood reality. To align our stories and identities with “what is”–what actually is–in the body.

Then healing can happen. Unwinding can happen.

Once I did this, my suffering gradually softened and lightened.

And then—have you ever done this?—I got stuck again, but in a different way.

Somehow I turned that hard-won realization of my body’s truth into a static “thing.”  I created a new static identity. In my mind, I was still the person freaked out by the dentist.

Like an eraser endlessly rubbing out a pencil mark until there’s a hole in the paper, I kept re-making that identity of helplessness.

While my mind ran that program, my body waited for me to check in with “what is.”

Luckily, I am a somatic coach.

One afternoon, I modeled a centering practice for a client. I invited them to tune into their somatic “depth” by placing one hand in front and one in back of their solar plexus.

As I put my hand on my stomach, I felt a warm substance. I “saw” golden energy forming the image of a broad-pawed lioness. She was—I was—robust. Confident. Huh? Was this “me?”

Yep, this was me. Oh.


Let Your Body Surprise You

When we habitually “check-out” from the body, the return always brings surprises.

Usually we notice the unpleasant surprises first, like when my body told me that I had NOT yet recovered from the dentist.

When we finally check-in with the body, we might comment, “Wow, I did not realize my neck was so tight!”


“Huh. My body feels small and exposed. I did not know.”

These little “ahas” are not fun. They are sometimes so unpleasant that we are tempted to never check-in with our bodies again.

That would be tragic, because our bodies carry our power and creativity.

Re-inhabiting the body after trauma is like that pins and needles feeling when your foot has been asleep—quite uncomfortable, but well worth it to get your foot back.

Trauma takes away our sense of power to act and create.

The path to reclaiming that agency and creativity is through thawing out, waking up to the aliveness of our sensations.

Along the way we re-discover the reasons we fled our bodies in the first place. We face the fear or grief we could not bear to feel during the trauma.

All of this can be overwhelming. We may fear the pain will swallow us up, as it did when we were harmed and not helped.

But those truths are stale–they belong to the time of the trauma. “What is” is a fresh truth.

This is a new day, and your body has more resources than it did back then.

It is worth the discomfort to re-inhabit and reclaim your body.

There are resilient areas in our bodies—even in the most traumatized bodies–that are waiting for us to notice them:

Strong, sturdy legs;
Serene, relaxed bellies;
Curious, wiggly feet;
Kind, capable hands.

When we get close enough to explore our body sensations, we discover built-in stability in our bones. Gentleness in our gaze.

When we connect directly with our bodies, we encounter not only unpleasant surprises, but lovely surprises as well.

Have you ever purposefully touched your head? Have you ever squeezed your skull bones, gently and firmly?

The first time I did this. I was amazed at how fine-boned and small my skull actually was! My mind’s picture of my head was completely different.

As I held my round, compact skull, as I pressed my jaw and cheekbones, I felt appreciation and tenderness. What a delicate creature I was!

Suddenly the “annoying” lifelong hypersensitivity of my body and temperament–to foods and environments, to people and their energies–made so much sense!

I felt the vulnerable and solid “critter-ness” of my body. Fondness arose in me toward that critter.

And I realized how often I disconnect from the basic reality of my body.

Maybe my body is suffering, and I am trying to avoid feeling that.

Maybe my body is relaxed, and that does not fit my picture of myself.

My mind chatters away, telling its stale, day-old stories and missing the truth of the moment, the truth of this ever-changing body.

I hear similarly surprised observations from my clients when I invite them to really be with their sensations–not just to “think-feel” but to “feel-feel.”

They say things like, “Wow, my hip bones are really strong! I think of myself as a “pushover,” but my hip bones do not feel that way at all! They want to stand their ground!”

Wallace Stevens wrote, “Let be be finale of seem. The only emperor is the emperor of ice cream.” I do not claim to know what he meant, but to me it says,

“Let what is—what actually is—melt the illusions we project onto our bodies and our selves. Let’s trust our senses over our stories.

And not just trust, but enjoy our aliveness.

Otherwise, we miss so much!

While I told myself I was still depressed, backsliding, resentful, hopeless, etc., blah, blah, blah…

…my solar plexus was busy being sunny and substantial; my head was fine and sturdy, my bones were precise and graceful.

And when I sat in silence, I felt a canyon of peace open beneath me.

Wow! I had no idea.

I had too many ideas.

This body, this being called Vanissar carries on, a mystery.
An unknowable mystery.

All of us are mysteries, no matter how much we try to cram ourselves into narrow lives with our narrow stories.

I invite you to discover the living truth of your body, here and now. Look at your hands and really see them. Close your eyes and move your hips. Really feel the movement.

Touch your head. What is the texture? Instead of thinking about what the texture is, be in it. Now listen to your breath or your voice as you hum or whisper. Let the vibrations brush your ears,  your throat.  

Surprise yourself.