Thursday, November 20, 2008

My Lungs

I have bronchitis and a cough so bad it scares strangers. I finally went to the doctor. He said basically I have asthma brought on by filthy air, and all the particulates floating around from the fire. It looks clean, but it is making me sick. He said, yes, I do have bronchitis on top of that, but more of my problem is my body's reactions to the air. Horrifying! So today I treated myself to a deeevine massage with Seva Simran Siri Khaur, my pre-natal yoga guru. She is a sikh who worked at Gurmukh's Golden Bridge when I was pregnant with Theo. I would walk into her class after a day at the paper and just weep as she she told us how lucky we were to be pregnant, how beautiful, what a blessed state it was. She would say we were like Goddesses and tell us to celebrate that baby within. The contrast with my daily corporate environment, where I had to conceal my pregnancy as long as possible, act as absolutely normal as possible (I feel totally normal, aggressive and ON...can somebody please tell me what this GIANT bump under my clothes is? It is really annoying and I have a deadline...) I used to cry there, just silent tears of relief that in this dark room after work someone was telling me that having a baby was a magical and a wonderful thing.
Anyway, I loved her for that, and she will be forever special in my heart. She is part of my long list of mother figures I collect, who are full of nurturing maternal energy and love. So I ran to her today for one of her massages. It was glorious and she coated me with narayan oil that opens up your pores and nostrils and all of you. She said that lungs and weak lungs correspond to sadness. It is how you hold sadness in your body. She asked if I had always had weak lungs. Yes. Since I was 17 and I got walking pneumonia for three months and competed through the whole swim season of my senior year, hacking and weak, but still winning, and determined to win. Since then I have gotten bronchitis virtually every year. She said that means I probably have carried that sadness in me since then. Fascinating.
Anyway, there is a yogic way to rid myself of my sadness and my weak lungs, she said. Drink a glass of warm milk mixed with eight jalapeno peppers ground up in the blender. Coat your lips with honey so you don't burn yourself and drink it down. She said people who have done it swear it cures them of bronchitis forever.
I swear, I am not a wack-job. But I think I might try it. It will be my scorched earth policy for my lungs, and my sadness.
It's time to get angry. Not sad.
(Seva encouraged me to just go for stable.)

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