You are Infinitely More than You Think

“It is time to pay some attention to what is Sacred inside your own self. Everything else, comes and goes.”

— Mooji

For my 45th birthday, I gifted myself a pilgrimage to Andalusia Portugal, known as “the place where nothing happens,” for a silent retreat with a spiritual teacher whose teachings have been close to my heart. Known affectionately as Mooji Baba, he points to what he calls the true Self or pure Awareness in which we all unknowingly reside. This in contrast to the personal ego that most of us identify with and experience our lives through. Eight years ago I stumbled upon him on YouTube while researching another dear spiritual leader, Ramana Maharshi. From the first time I heard Mooji, I was captivated by his mixture of direct, no-nonsense teaching and surprising humor. Laughter and Truth have always been my saving graces.

At the start of the retreat, Mooji led us through a meditation asking us to leave behind everything that we think we are--our stories, our thoughts, our roles, our doubts, our judgments, our attachments, our aversions, our opinions--and to sit with what remained, Presence--the only thing impossible to leave behind. That Presence, he said, is You. Presence is Eternal. It is Divine. It is Love. And that, is You. The personality that you filter and create your life experience through is not only narrow, but is unreal. It is only real because you believe it and hold on to it.

 From the first pointing, I was stunned by the radical truth of what Mooji was saying. Everything inside me acknowledged its truth, but I felt a paralysis inside. The implications of this truth shook my universe to its core. How could this be true? For the next few days, I held steadfast to Mooji’s words. I went for long walks and asked, is this true? Is it true that I am Eternal? Is it true that there’s nothing to fear? Is it true that we are One? Is it true that all is Love? Is it true that Joy is everpresent? Is it true all those things the Holy Books speak of, the drunken mystics and their flights of poetry and dance, the eternal wisdom of the sages? Is it true true? And as my heart melted over the course of the days, all around me answered yes.

One warm afternoon, filled with profound peace and stillness, I looked into the vast blue sky. I watched the shape shifting clouds above me and and followed the occasional crane caressing the sky with its open wingspan like an inviting embrace. All around me, everything was alive. The leaves in the trees rustled yes and the birds called out yes and the wind whispered yes and the sun radiated yes and the silence said, Yes Yes Yes.

That night, walking down the dirt path back to my cabin, I stood mesmerized by the eternity of stars in the night sky. After staring for awhile into the endless darkness, I closed my eyes. Inside myself I also found an endless darkness of eternity. And suddenly, the truth flashed through me. The only thing interrupting eternity out there, and eternity in here is me. And with that my insistent questioning stopped and I heard my own heart say Yes. And everything fell quiet.

Love, Truth, and Laughter, 

June Practitioner Spotlight: Jenna Frisch

“Chinese medicine is not just theory but a way of paying attention. It is poetry and a life philosophy and provides a context for recognizing our nature.”

Like many healing art practitioners, I found my way to my practice through my own healing. What I sought at the beginning of my process was a medicine concerned with all of me - the mental, emotional, spiritual and physical - and practitioners that could accompany me on my search to know myself, to feel alive, rather than prescribe an antidote to my very human experience.

I discovered an interest in massage therapy via a yoga training that I took in order to be part of a nurturing, healing community. My teacher was studying myofascial release at the time and walked us through a couple mini partner massage sessions. Connecting to a person in that way, being held in that way, was a life changing experience. There was a tenderness in the touch that welcomed release, as if layers of myself were shed - the pieces I didn’t choose so much as learned to wear - and I knew instantly that I wanted to pursue a hands-on approach to healing.

I fell in love with Chinese medicine at McKinnon Body Therapy Center where I first learned about the meridians, the Five Elements, and how this medicine is alive within each of us. Chinese medicine is not just theory but a way of paying attention. It is poetry and a life philosophy and provides a context for recognizing our nature. It carefully, and without bias, honors our whole experience. As a practitioner, I appreciate having this context when talking with my clients about the interconnectedness of all things, from what we feel to how we think to the way we move in the world. Through the meridians and acupressure points, I can touch and hold the experience of my client as I am guided by the body to offer the greatest benefit in the moment.

Part of my passion for being a massage therapist comes from accompanying others along their healing journey, and part comes from sharing what I have learned. Recently, I began teaching Acupressure and Shiatsu at McKinnon which offers a chance to deepen my relationship to Chinese medicine while inviting others to begin their own. This medicine has helped me deepen my relationship to myself most of all, which is where all healing begins.

Love Letter to My Body

“This is adapted from a post I wrote 3 years ago. I will be turning 45 this month and the more time passes, the deeper my love and acceptance for my self, my body, and my children. Happy Mother’s Day to Mothers everywhere <3 ”

One day, draped over me, Max playfully touched my breast, a fading instinct from three years of breastfeeding. He refers to my breasts as mama and me as mom. I pushed his hand away and gave him a stern look. He asked, “Mom, how old are your mamas?” “My mamas,” I replied with a certain nostalgia, “are 42 years old.” He continued, “Mom, “how old is your cheek?” as he brushed his hand against it. “My cheeks are 42 years old.” “Mom, how old are your feet?” “My feet are 42 years old.” “Mom,” now with a giggle, “how old is your butt?” “My butt, is 42 years old.” And on and on to other body parts.

When he left, I felt somehow reunited with my body in a way that I hadn’t before. Like a long devoted lover that I had taken for granted, I had forgotten what we had been through, these 42 years. How she’s always been there for me, serving me, protecting me, keeping me company, communicating to me, allowing me to enjoy life and create and make love and give birth and hug and run and dance and swim. About how she always responded to my true needs. How she made me rest and slow down with illness and how she always recovered and was there for me no matter what abuse I put her through.

To listen deeply to one’s body is like listening to anyone one loves, it is to put one’s own agenda aside. And that is not an easy task. Too often I was deafened by my agendas for what my body is supposed to look like and feel like. How she’s supposed to move through the world. What she’s supposed to withstand without complaining and how she’s supposed to perform. With so much agenda, it was difficult to hear what my body was actually feeling, actually communicating to me. When I didn’t listen to my body when she needed rest or nourishment, I ended up in pain and turmoil.

When it is time to lay down and die, my body will tell me to let go. And when that day comes, my wish is that I will continue to love, trust and be in gratitude for her. Even as she seems to be failing, I believe that she knows better than I what is best for me. My body has always told the truth. No matter how I try to hoodwink the world and myself, my body displays plain and simple truths.

I pray that I will listen quietly and surrender. And have the courage let go of the fine companion that has seen me through the trials of this life so that my spirit can finally soar with trust and gratitude. Thank you to the one so close to me I almost forgot her constant presence. And thank you to the silly wise little one who emerged from her to remind me of my mortality.

Love & Community,