Thursday, January 25, 2007
Draw Blood, Get Adjusted
This morning I met up with the marathon group at 6:05 am. 5 minutes late. I knew if I drove the right way along Lake Merritt that I would catch them. I did.
I came over the bridge last night on time for my 6:30 acupuncturist appointment number 2. She asked me what had been going on since our last visit. I noted my headaches hadn't been as frequent and I haven't been craving carbs and sweets as much until this week. And I wanted to retool 7th grade so that it's a year of kinetic learning because they do not have a propensity for sitting down and focusing much on anything.
This time I lay on my back and she started tapping the needles, first at my feet. She continued up my lower legs, the fleshy part of my hands, and finished on the very top of my head.
I lay there under a blanket and thought about the nerve trees extending somewhere beneath my skin stimulated by these very thin needles. Very, very thin needles.
I tried to think of the impulses in relation to water: streams and tributaries. Were these needles acting like dams or locks distributing impulses elsewhere? Did I feel a pulsation? Did my left arm just jerk without my willing it? I fell asleep to the sound of the ocean and the white noise of traffic outside and far away somewhere.
She woke me and then I dressed and made my next appointment. This time I lost a little blood. My right hand had a little drop of deep, red blood from the needle. I licked it quickly and it was gone. That particular nerve still smarted this morning.
After my appointment I was RAVENOUS (as I had been all day. I noshed on organic cherry tomatoes, cranberry water, spicy lemonade, tamari crackers and organic peanut butter, quinoa and chicken and roasted bell peppers), and debated between the comfort of palak paneer or shredded tofu from Spices III. Spices III was closer and cheaper, so off I went to purchase my snackie.
Then off for home. It was still before 8 pm and I needed a wind down to wake in time for this morning's training session. I managed to call Mr. Mike and get an update on his house renovations and the kayak report from the past weekend. I then shared how happy I was to be reunited with Jane and the organic chocolate spread I discovered at 111 Minna's Strawberry and Bacon celebration from Saturday night. Always good to catch up with friends.
9 pm. About 30 minutes past bedtime.
3 am I shot up in bed, unable to sleep and echoing "Sexy Back" in my brain. Jesus.
So I picked up Persepolis sitting next to me. My boss lent me this graphic novel. It's a young woman's account of growing up in Tehran during the revolution. It's great. I ate it up in 3 nights of reading when I couldn't fall asleep.
Marjane Satrapi illustrates and writes in such an easy style and yet tackles really intense subject matter. Her accounts of underground youth culture despite the war is pretty hilarious. Reading about her take on boys mimicking Rod Stewart's hair and her rocking out to Iron Maiden and Kim Wilde was a ride back to to the past...
I was in 2nd grade when the revolution was going down. I was in Sr. Paul's 2nd grade class in Saint Anthony's of Padua Elementary School, Endicott, NY. I remember the grainy images on NBC while Tom Brokaw delivered the news. Men and women with sacks over their heads. The Ayotollah was mentioned. The American captives were mentioned. I had no idea what it was about. I had no idea Iran and Iraq were warring.
This book gives a frank account of what was going on on the inside.
Funny how history repeats itself.
It mirrors what seems to have happened in Afghanistan recently - theocratic regime peeling away the rights of people to practice or not practice their faiths. And how I am experiencing my own democracy over the last 6 or so years. Fear being used as motivation to control and to maintain my security.