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Mindfulness is Like Making Chicken Soup (and how to make the soup!)

We have a tradition in my family that when someone gets sick, a pot of chicken stock goes on. The art of making healing chicken soup was taught to me in college by my roommate from NYC who’s grandmother referred to it as Jewish Penicillin. The process starts with someone not feeling well; anything from sniffles, discomfort or suffering. Conscious cooking to the rescue! The prescription is liquid gold.

In order to make the broth for the soup, you only need a big sturdy stock pot that will fit an entire fresh chicken, two good handfuls of whole carrots, the top half of a whole stalk of celery, an onion, some peppercorns, kosher salt and a few bay leaves. Fill the pot with cold water until everything is covered. Stick around and be patient.

When you first turn the pot on not much happens. After awhile, things begin to move and this icky gray and white foamy stuff floats to the top. Technically, its just protein, but you look at it and know its is not something you want to put in your body; extremely unappetizing and a good way to ruin the clarity of your broth. So you have to get rid of the impurities. The lid is left off the pot and you play witness to the transition. A long handled skimmer with fine mesh is the best tool for the job. Intermittently skim the top of the stock then rinse the skimmer in some water to start clean. Before the broth comes to the boiling point, you have to decrease the heat, but still keep it hot enough for the scum to surface. Scoop and dump. Repeat. The trick is to make sure the stove is not too hot or the scuzzy contaminants redistribute themselves back into the stock before you can get rid of them. This is the patience part. And please don’t stir it up. The stock is best when it cooks slowly and gently. Once the skimming is done, turn it down even more to a soothing simmer. I like my stock to cook for 8-12 hours before straining it so that the collagen and minerals leach out of the bones. If you don’t have the luxury of letting it cook that long, work within the space you have. Once all the cooked items are removed, you get to put whatever you want in the stock. In my house, it is fresh carrots and celery, matzo balls and fresh dill. Share it! Give from your overflow. Word of warning: keep some Kleenex handy because it will also open your lungs and make your nose run!

Thanks for reading about one of my favorite healing traditions. Now try making some and consider the process a philosophy for life. How often do we recognize that our thoughts are creating scum? And what do we do when they surface in the form of impure language or actions?

Making chicken soup is a recipe for mindfulness. We all experience unpleasantness and have the ability to create and heal through contemplative practices. Roughly 90% of thoughts are below the conscious level. When we practice mindfulness, we become aware of some of that 90% and icky stuff surfaces. When we are uncomfortable, physically sick or emotionally upset, things turn cloudy and gray. Like clear broth, clean thoughts don’t come in a neat package. It takes patience and love to turn water into to nourishing food and it takes the same to uncloud your thoughts. The practice of mindfulness lets us skim the undesirable mental fragments. Scoop and dump. Repeat. Sometimes we need a tool! A yoga or meditation practice is the fine sieve of the soup stock of life. Dip and delete. Skim and purge. My morning recipe, or sadhana as its called in yoga, allows for an hour to simmer in my subconscious. Maybe you only have or want 10-15 minutes. Sometimes that is all it takes to see who or what is bringing you to your boiling point.

The process of mindfulness makes us connoisseurs of our own consciousness. We learn to separate our thoughts, which are always changing, from the Self, which is unshakable. That which is always changing is called prakriti – thoughts, emotions, our physical bodies, the environment outside us. Think of prakriti in terms of the process of the stock cooking; when we have the right ingredients and process in place, water transforms into a magical medicine – that’s dharma baby! But first the waste surfaces and sometimes prakriti causes suffering. Yet, we keep eating it until all we can identify with and taste is prakriti. Purusha is another philosophical force to dine on. As the conscious cook, you can thoughtfully observe the broth cooking. Purusha allows us to watch the experience without putting ourselves in the pot. The healing begins when we see the Self as separate from prakriti and look beyond the displeasing scum at the whole process.

Prakriti shows itself through 3 forces called the gunas. Change is represented in the rajas guna. Rajas is experienced as agitation, anger or anxiety when we don’t continually attempt to remove the grubby thoughts. But if we keep skimming the undesirables, rajas becomes the creative force of change. Heat, or tapas in yoga, provides that agent of change. It is the force that burns impurities when you are disciplined in your practice. Just like making healing broth, tapas has to cook from a place of love; include acceptance and leave out judgement in the recipe. Other undesirable ingredients include expectations of how things will turn out, denial of what our awareness shows us and guilt about “bad thoughts”.  If we hit the boiling point or let the scum keep cooking, it will redistribute itself somewhere in your life. If we never even turn the heat on the pot, we experience tamas guna – nothing changes and life, like the stock, will be tasteless and unfulfilling. When we balance rajas and tamas, the third guna – sattva, makes chicken soup out of our suffering.

In the end, cooking chicken stock and your conscious awareness are both about not letting the scum ruin your day. And maybe sharing some of your liquid gold…

Happy, Healthy Cooking,

Megan

The Three Gunas

If you are still struggling with the post-election dystopia, have you considered trying yoga? Before you do, may I please explain something? As Gabriel Halpern said in his dharma talk last weekend, starting yoga to find peace and comfort is like being caught in a rain storm and deciding to jump in the ocean.  As a yoga studio owner, it saddens me to see countless class passes expire. In doing what they perceive as purely physical exercises, many students curiously and bravely, perhaps unknowingly, scratch the surface of their mental abyss. Then they suddenly suspend their practice. Either they are not ready or don’t have the the discipline to remove what conceals their joy. Being “set in our ways”, even when they don’t working for us, is a state of Tamas – inertia, darkness, ignorance – think inaction and procrastination.

Excuses are a way of hiding the truth from ourselves. In a Tamasic state, we use a lot of negative energy obscuring reality. To free ourselves from tamas, we have to go through a state of Rajas, (just an inexperienced guess that Black Friday Shopping requires Rajas). The term Rajas in sanskrit refers to the energy of passion, activity and transition. Rajas is change. As we all know, it is agitating being taken out of our comfort zone. When we are able to find balance between dullness (Tamas) and turbulence (Rajas), Sattva is achieved – the pure state of intelligence and virtue.  Sativa is the state of joy and the energy of unconditional love.

The past few weeks have been an “I’m back in “08 again” reminder that I have to keep visiting the bottom to swim. Yoga exposes every dark corner I try to hide from myself in.  Asana brings me into my body; currently a foreign, discontented place. Meditation is not a space where feelings are suppressed; it is the place I connect with emotions and sit in solidarity with them.  When the demons come out, there needs to be a way to purge them.  Writing is an act of surrender and the spark of transformation. Pen and Paper are two friends who simply hold space, without judgement or advice.