plus ça change, plus c'est la même chose
^I think I've used that phrase as subtitle once before. Which makes it QED.
So much to write about! I promised monarda, so let's start there. Actually, monarda is a perfect place to start, for as Michael Cottingham put it so succinctly, "monarda is movement."
I'm moving. Again. And yet feeling some stickiness on certain levels too, and currently in the entropic state where objects waiting to be packed seem to multiply and magnify. Plus ça change, plus c'est la même chose.
Written by Ela Harrison
on Tuesday, 20 October 2015.
Posted in Mindfulness, Herbs and Plants
milestones can only be arbitrary
The next herb I will write about here is Monarda-- Mexican oregano--movement embodied and personified in plant medicine. Monarda my sweet-hot, my ally in this time of change and mo(ve)ment I undergo in alongside spirit with many others. But that won't be today.
Today, I'm publishing this blog's ONE HUNDREDTH post! But why so long since post 99?
Written by Ela Harrison
on Sunday, 04 October 2015.
Posted in Blogging, All About Words, Mindfulness
metaphoring on the cardamom
Cardamom, elettaria cardamomum, ginger family, we call it "hel" in Hebrew. "Hel" like "helwa"--sweet and beautiful and often cardamom flavored?
Carminative, aromatic, parochial and powerful, possessing an odor that, as a child, I was convinced came from heaven and thus defined heaven. I had an old one-ounce unguent jar among my toys, and it was a jar of cardamom smell. I don't know how it came to have and hold that smell, and I didn't have the name "cardamom" yet, only "hel," but I knew it was heaven.
The way to heaven is through the nose, the nostrils are needle's eyes, which is why camels are called stinky and camel milk is the next best thing for humans to mother's milk.
Written by Ela Harrison
on Monday, 07 September 2015.
Posted in Mindfulness, Herbs and Plants
please beware of this
When I called my parents in tears when my scooter was stolen two days after my house was broken into, my dad warned me "these things come in threes." He was right.
"How could you have been so gullible/innocent/it's totally obvious that this was fraudulent," etc., etc., said anyone I told the story to after the fact. (Why didn't I discuss with anyone before the fact?) I don't know, guys. I guess I am highly gullible/trusting. But here's the story, and I hope it may stop someone else from falling prey to this.
Written by Ela Harrison
on Wednesday, 12 August 2015.
Posted in Mindfulness, Tucson
seeing begets looking
As I've continued to process last week's thefts, the feeling of violation, I've been resisting the temptation to blame myself for manifesting the woes and at the same time attempting to ask, without self pity, what I can do/could have done differently. What is it that needs my attention and is not getting it?
Again with the questions. Perhaps there's a beautiful symmetry in the fact that I find questions so useful everywhere and always and in the fact that the one quality on which I pride myself and which I hope never to lose is that of listening/being a good listener. But am I listening enough right now? I feel, rather, that I'm grasping desperately...
Written by Ela Harrison
on Tuesday, 28 July 2015.
Posted in WholeHealth, Ela Recommends, Mindfulness
although it seems like (write it!) like disaster
(with thanks, of course, to Elizabeth Bishop)
I've been going on and on about being the tail wagging the dog, the smile that starts firing happy chemistry. Then my house, and my neighbor on the other side of the duplex, got broken into on Wednesday, and irreplaceable family jewelry was stolen. Today, shopping on the way home from group where we'd been discussing how to wag that dog and create that smile, my scooter was stolen from right beside me as I browsed for a gift for my niece and perhaps a little token of safety.
Law of Attraction specialists, what am I doing that's making this happen?
Written by Ela Harrison
on Saturday, 25 July 2015.
Posted in WholeHealth, Mindfulness, Tucson
paradox, retrograde, feedback loop
Until not too long ago, this blog comprised weekly "spells" formed of three posts showcasing a concept from my three angles of obsession and fascination. Of course, this wasn't saving the world or necessarily accomplishing anything important--or was it? At least it was some sort of momentum and shape.
Sometimes what looks like a finger-twirling dance is actually a planetary fecundation. I've witnessed conversations where the conversants were actually engaged in a jedi light-saber battle, which you'd only notice if you knew how to look. What looks like a plummet into oblivion might in fact be one erect wing of a beautiful bird, the low point its back, sending your eye running up the other wing. Sometimes the tail does wag the dog, or rather, sometimes if you smile and engage the smile muscles, the parts of your neurochemistry associated with things smileable start to kindle.
This post is my tail attempting to wag my dog.
Written by Ela Harrison
on Sunday, 19 July 2015.
Posted in WholeHealth, All About Words, Mindfulness