#and you know what irritates me the most? india has so much rich culture good ideas and stories to tell

[asparklerwhowrites]

Writing Indian characters, from an Indian person

India is a huge country! while most characters in mainstream media are from the 'big cities' i.e Mumbai, Delhi, Hyderabad, etc, there are many, many more places and areas to look at! since India is such a vast country, there is incredible diversity. 19,500 languages and dialects are present, with people of different skin, eye, and hair colors and types! there are, of course, a lot of inherent prejudices present, which I'll address a little later.

#1. Know their roots

There is no 'one' Indian experience. People from different places celebrate different festivals, worship different gods, and speak different languages!

A checklist of things you should know about your Indian character's background, in essence:

Which state and city/town/village are they from?

How many and which languages do they speak, and with what frequency? (Mostly, people can speak at least two languages!)

Are they religious? (more on religion later)

What are some of their favourite memories/moments linked to their culture? (festivals, family gatherings, etc)

#2. Naming your character

Some common names for boys: Aarav, Advik, Shlok, Farhan, Ritvik, Aarush, Krish, Ojas, Zain.

Some common names for girls: Arushi, Ishita, Trisha, Rhea, Riya, Zoya, Vedika, Khushi, Charvi.

Common last names: Shah, Singh, Agarwal, Banerjee, Dala, Bhat, Joshi, Iyer, Jain, Dhawan, Dixit.

Be careful while picking a last name: last names are very much indicators of the ethnicity/community you're from! most older folks can guess the ethnicity of people just by their last name - it's pretty cool.

Naming systems usually follow the name-surname format, and children usually take the last name of their father - but I believe some regions have a bit of a different system, so look that up!

#3. Stereotypes to avoid

This goes without saying, but I'm gonna say it anyway. Being 'Indian' shouldn't be your character's entire personality. Give them traits, feelings, and a purpose other than being a token diverse character. Some stereotypes that are really a no-no when it comes to Indian characters:

Making them good at math and academics in general (my Cs in math beg to differ that all Indians are good at math. often, the reason Indians are stereotyped to be so smart stems from an incredibly toxic and harmful environment at home which forces children to get good grades. unless you've experienced that, its not your story to write)

Making your Indian character 'hate' being Indian (not everyone?? hates their culture?? like there are many, MANY faults with India as a country, and it's important to recognize and take action against that - which often makes us iffy about how we feel about our country, it's genuinely not your place to write about that UNLESS you are Indian. don't bring in 'hatred' of a place you've never visited, and don't know much about.)

Make them scaredy-cats, 'cowards', who are good at nothing but being the 'brain' (I will literally behead you if you do this/lh)

#4. Why India shouldn't be portrayed as 'perfect' either

It's likely that most of you won't be going in SO deep with your Indian character, but India isn't the perfect 'uNiTy iN diVerSitY' as it's depicted in media. There are incredible tensions between religions (especially Hindus and Muslims), and even remnants of the 'untouchable' way of thinking remain between castes. There's a lot of violence against women, and misogyny is definitely something Indians are not foreign to. People with paler skin are considered to be 'better' than those with darker skin (in the older generations especially)

#5. Some common customs

Removing your shoes before entering the house, since your house is considered to be 'godly' and shoes shouldn't be brought inside

Eating dal (lentils), chawal (rice), sabji (a mixture of vegetables/meat that's cooked in different ways) roti (Indian flatbread) is considered to be a full, well-balanced meal and at least aspects of it are eaten for lunch and dinner (if not all four elements)

The suffixes -bhai (for men) and -ben (for women) are added to first names and are commonly used by adults to refer to someone of importance or who they hold to esteem.

However, 'bhai' (which literally means 'brother) is often used as slang when referring to friends or family. Other slang includes 'arrey' which is used to show irritation or 'yaar' which has the same context.

It's custom to call adults who you refer to in a friendly way 'aunty' or 'uncle', like the parents of your friends.

Talking back to your elders is forbidden, especially your grandparents who you have to refer to with utmost respect.

#6. Religions

India is a very religiously diverse country. The most common religion is Hinduism, then Islam, Christianity, Sikhism, and Buddhism. All religions have their own complexities, and since I'm a Hindu, I can tell you a little bit about that!

It's common to have a mandir which is a small altar dedicated to the deities your family worships. (Fun fact - they're usually placed in the East direction because that's where the sun rises)

Most kids can say a few shloks by-heart, which are a few lines of prayer! (lmao I've forgotten most but I used to be able to rattle off at least ten when I was younger)

Most people know at least the general plot of the Ramayan and Mahabharat - two famous epic stories. (I'm not sure if they're inherently 'Hindu' or not)

Many people wear necklaces with a small pendant of the deity they worship!

Common Hindu deities: Saraswati, Ganesha, Shiva, Krishna, Vishnu.

It's important to note that religious violence is a thing. Muslims especially, are oppressed and discriminated against. It's a very, very complex issue, and one that's been going on for thousands of years.

#7. Myth & Facts

India is a very poor country

Yep! Lakhs of people live in villages with no electricity, clean water, or amenities nearby. There's no point sugar-coating it. There are HUGE gaps between the poor and the rich (have you heard of Ambani and Adani :D) and while our millionaires rejoice in their thirty-story mansions, people die of famine, disease, and hunger every day. I am personally lucky enough to be EXTREMELY privileged and attend an international school and live in one of the most developed cities. Most people aren't as lucky as me, and it's a really true, horrifying reality.

Everyone in India is vegetarian

No lmao - while many people ARE, there's a greater and equal amount of non-vegetarian people.

We burn our dead in parking lots

This circulated back when the second wave was going on in India, and the media blew it out of proportion. First of all, what the actual f!ck. Cremation is a Hindu ritual, and by saying that aLL Indians burn their dead you are erasing the other religions here. Secondly, cremation is a sacred ritual only attended by close family of the deceased member. It does not happed in PARKING LOTS. It's a time of grief and loss, not a way to humiliate a religion for the way they treat their dead.

Drop any other questions about India in the comments/DM me!

[blackswaneuroparedux]

Anonymous asked: You sound like a remarkable woman out of her time. Your posts suggest you are modern and feminine yet your cultured intelligence and cleverness seems from an earlier lost time. Would you prefer to be living in 18th Century Georgian England? One imagines you would fit right in as a heroine in Jane Austen’s Regency world of aristocratic manners and clever barbs over tea in the drawing room.

I had to smile to myself a little because the last thing I ever saw myself was a Jane Austen character. I certainly don’t see myself as heroine of Austen’s world. After all don’t most if not all of Austen’s literary heroines spend their time pathetically pining away for the socially aloof and yet heroically vulnerable gentlemen they profess to love, men who are usually too dense to know that these whining women have childish schoolgirl crushes on them? I know I’m going to angry mails now from pouting Austen fans but I have to speak my mind.

Like most people I do profess to liking a nice, cosy Jane Austen adaptation on television. The fabulous frocks, fans, feathers and finery soothe us with images of a gentler, well-mannered time when gentlemen in cravats and breeches wooed perfumed ladies across ballrooms and well-manicured lawns.

However the reality was not quite so lovely. It’s not that women - like Austen’s literary women - were caught up in the social constraints of their time but also I would get restless just sitting down all day to tea and gossip. I would sooner catch the first ship bound for India and have adventures in the Orient along the way. Tea with Mr Darcy in well stuffed breeches might not be enough for me but then again a well stocked library as most landed gentry homes had would make me reconsider.

I’m fortunate that within my family we have a wealth of diaries, correspondence, private papers, and other family heirlooms that go back a few centuries which we have scrupulously stored to hopefully pass onto future generations.

So when I can decipher some letters of my ancestors it gives me some insight into what life was like for them as men and women of their time. It’s not always easy to read as they loved to scribble in ink (now faded) in the margins on nearly every page of the books they read. And so the penmanship is stylish but minuscule and therefore sometimes hard to make out. The letters are somewhat more legible but it requires patience and perseverance to make sense of what they were writing about. It’s a wonderful way to flesh out the genealogical tree with titbits of personal anecdotes that could be perfunctory, mundane, scandalous, salacious, romantic, and even political.

I’ve read Jane Austen like every other girl at boarding school I imagine. I like her writings but I wouldn’t say my heart is in it to actually live through that time.

Life for Georgian women, even of high birth, was harsh enough in a time when men still held all the power and husbands could beat and even rape their wives. Noblewomen caught diseases passed on from their husband's prostitutes and were still subjected to confinement and the barbaric medical practice of bleeding when pregnant. Even their fashions and frippery provided cold comfort when their make-up poisoned them, unwashed dresses and undergarments stank and their fancy foods made their teeth rot and fall out.

The fact that women did survive and even thrive is a testament to their strength and fortitude which I find admirable. 

I’m used to mud and sweat and even living rough because as ex-army officer I was trained to suck it up but it’s also in my nature because I love going rough when I hike or climb mountains or trek to other places off the beaten track. So I’m not squeamish so long as at the end of the day I can bathe or shower my aches away and I can put on a fresh change of clothing. However even I recoil in some horror when I consider that despite their elegant appearance, Georgian women carried a world of stench. While hands and faces would be washed daily, immersive bathing was considered bad for the health and was only indulged in occasionally.

The heavy gowns of the period would have caused the wearer to sweat profusely, with only perfumes such as rose water and orange blossom to mask the smell. The clothes themselves would also be pungent. Due to the huge amount of work involved in laundering, most households would have a maximum of one wash-day a month. Linen undergarments were changed as often as possible, but their "clean" smell would still be unappealing to us. Linen was often bleached in chamber lye, a kind of soap made from ashes and urine.

As if bodily odour was not bad enough, there was also the whiff of rotting teeth. A sugar-rich diet led to frequent tooth-decay in the upper classes. Cleansing tooth-powders had started to emerge but most of these featured "spirit of vitriol", known to us as sulphuric acid, and stripped teeth of their enamel. Often the best remedy for smelling teeth and bad breath was to chew herbs such as parsley. Where a tooth was past hope of redemption, it would be pulled with pliers or a tooth key, a claw that would fix to the teeth so it could be loosened in the jaw. To avoid a gummy smile, ladies of fashion sought false teeth made from ivory or porcelain but, where possible, they preferred to have "live" teeth in their dentures. Poor people were encouraged to sell healthy teeth for this purpose. While such a practice was unethical, it was better than the other method of sourcing human teeth: pillaging them battlefields and graveyards.

Georgian women were renowned for their snowy faces and dark eyebrows but achieving the fashionable skin tone could be extremely dangerous. White face powders were lead-based and some also featured vinegar and horse manure. Years of coating the entire face, shoulders and neck with such a mixture could lead to catastrophic consequences. Society beauty Maria Gunning died at the age of just 27, having spent her life addicted to cosmetics. Lead-poisoning could cause hair loss and tooth decay but ingeniously, these problems were elegantly adapted into the fashion and it became desirable to have a high forehead and pencil-thin eyebrows. If your own eyebrows failed you completely, you could always trap a mouse in the kitchen and use its fur to make a new artificial pair.

I usually wear my hair straight or tied up in a bun so I don’t fuss too much over my hair. This would certainly be out of place if I lived in Georgian times. Georgian ladies were the mistresses of big hair. They piled their frizzed and curled locks over pads or wires to create show pieces for the drawing room. Often their own hair was not sufficient and had to be supplemented by horse hair and false pieces. Styles from the 1760s were domed or egg-shaped, elongating into the pouf in the 1780s. But Georgiana, the infamous Duchess of Devonshire, had to take things a step further. She introduced the three-foot hair tower, ornamented with stuffed birds, waxed fruit and model ships. Following her example, women competed with one another to make the tallest headdress. Since these styles were costly and took hours to arrange, they were worn for several weeks. Ladies had to sleep sitting up and travel on the carriage floor to avoid spoiling their creations. With no combing possible, lice were inevitable so a special scratching rod was invented for irritated ladies to poke into their piled up hair.

It wasn’t any real fun being a woman and I often think Jane Austen is selling a false bill of goods in her books. You never see women in her novels deal with their menstrual problems. No one has proved for certain what they did, if anything, for sanitary hygiene. With no knickers to hold in strips of linen or rag, they were left to Mother Nature’s mercy. I can imagine that being a conversation stopper in the drawing room over tea with the vicar and his prissy wife. Their toilet habits were a little more civilised. When ladies at the royal court were caught short, they resorted to porcelain jugs much like a modern-day gravy boat. This contraption, called a bourdaloue, was stuffed up beneath the skirts and clenched beneath the thighs. Apparently it was quite normal for a lady to continue her conversation while urinating into the device! I think Jane Austen missed a trick by not having at least one scene with Elizabeth Bennet urinating under her skirts whilst trading clever barbs with Mr Darcy.

Speaking of which marriage was not a box of chocolates in the early 18th Century or indeed later in Austen’s day. Upon marriage, a lady and all her worldly goods would become property of her husband. It was therefore essential to guard a well-to-do bride’s interests with a legal marriage settlement before the ceremony took place. I read somewhere that Henrietta Hobart, later mistress to George II, had reason to be thankful for the settlement drawn up before her marriage to Charles Howard in 1706. It stipulated that two thirds of her dowry should be invested, with the interest at her sole disposal. Should Henrietta die, the funds were to pass to her children. This arrangement was to prove life-saving when her husband became an abusive gambling-addict and alcoholic.

Lower class women were known to take extreme measures to protect their future husbands from their own debts. "Smock weddings" were intended to show that the bride brought no clothes or property to the union, thus exempting each spouse from the other’s financial liabilities. The woman would be married wearing only her undergarment or smock – or sometimes nothing at all. Of course no marriage settlement, however generous, could save a woman from a violent husband and it remained legal for a man to rape or kidnap his wife. While excessive beating was frowned upon, whipping was considered a reasonable measure to discipline a wife.  Even so, it would appear many men pushed their rights beyond the limit, for laws were later amended to say a man could only beat his wife with a stick "no thicker than his thumb".

Escaping an abusive marriage then was well-nigh impossible. Divorces were so expensive that they remained the privilege of the very rich. Even if a lady did have the money to appeal for divorce, she was by no means certain of success. She would have to prove both adultery and "life-threatening cruelty". And if she won her freedom, it would come with more than just a social cost - any children from the marriage would remain property of the husband. Certainly in my family - on my father’s English side of the family - they had their fair share of scandalous behaviour that didn’t reflect well to our 21st Century minds.

Certainly the Georgians were not sexless and they enjoyed their carnal pleasures but of course being aristocratic they never did things that would publicly expose them to scandal. I was reading one such letter of an ancestor who was writing to her older sister about how hard it was for her to conceive her first child - a son naturally - that her rakish husband first took to prostitutes in an era when such things were common and the risk of infection from sexually transmitted diseases was rife. And then later settled on one mistress whom he seriously gave thought to impregnate her. However the mistress was an actress and thus such a union was frowned upon in landed gentry circles and so he was shamed back to his high born wife and to ‘try harder by God’s Providence’. The duty of any aristocratic wife was to produce a healthy son and heir but if nature did not take its course, they could seek help and so these ancestors of mine did.

Like many other aristocratic couples with trouble conceiving children they sought out quacks who made promises to cure infertility. One such person was a Dr James Graham who had invented what he called ‘The Celestial Bed’ that guaranteed conception and unearthly sexual pleasure. The bed itself was electrified and stood on insulating glass legs. The mattress was stuffed with stallion hair to increase potency. Mirrored floors and music from a glass harmonica heightened the experience, while the air swirled with exotic perfumes. Having made love on this bizarre contraption, the couple were encouraged to take ice baths and have a firm massage. The lady would also be advised to douse her genitals with champagne.

It must have worked because the family line did not die out but flourished. It proves to me that champagne is the answer to almost every question in life. A woman’s travails were not over just because she was successfully pregnant. More hazards lay in her path. Despite advances in medicine, a shocking number of medieval practices remained in the Georgian birthing chamber. The long period of rest or "confinement" leading up to the birth was still enforced for wealthy women. The rooms would be kept dark and sweltering with the expectant mother wrapped up in fustian waistcoats and petticoats. As soon as she had given birth, the room was made even hotter, with the curtains round the bed pinned and even the keyhole in the door stopped to prevent a draft. When I lived in China I discovered this is what Chinese mothers did and still do to this day. So I wasn’t so surprised when I read such a practice happened in other cultures like my own.

Those more fortunate might find themselves in a birthing chair. This had a sloped back and a semi-circle cut from the seat, designed to let gravity aid nature. It was certainly a better option than staining expensive bedding and linen. With only female relatives and an unofficially trained midwife to help, many women and their babies died in childbed, as it was known. Even when male surgeons became involved in obstetrics toward the end of the century, treatments were woefully inadequate. I read in the correspondence of one of my female ancestors that she was frequently ‘bled’ during her pregnancy. Somehow she survived any risk of post-partum haemorrhage.

Even when a birth was successful without complication the wife/mother was not out of the woods just yet. In keeping with custom in landed gentry circles of the times, the new mother would not suckle their own babies. In keeping its custom this taks was given over to a wet nurse. In the case of one of my ancestors whose correspondence I read she got a village girl from the family estates to breast feed the baby. The reason for doing so was brutally simple. Firstly, it was to ensure that the lady could conceive again as soon as possible. And secondly, Wealthier women often had difficulty breastfeeding due to their tight corsets or stays. It was also believed that a child would grow up stronger and hardier with a country-woman’s milk.

But even when the baby sprog was weaned, it was common practice for it to be handed to foster-parents until it was old enough to run about and talk. Interestingly enough Jane Austen and her siblings were fostered by a cottager in Deane village, two miles from their family home.

So overall I’m no so sure I would be thrilled to be living in the Georgian and Regency era even if it meant challenging that scoundrel Mr Wickham to a sword duel (and kicking his arse), match making with Emma, or even missing out on the pleasure of taking tea with Mr Darcy.

Sorry Mr Darcy.

Of course I’m fascinated with history and one sometimes wonder what it might be like to live in a particular time. However it’s just a flight of the imagination because to paraphrase Sir Roger Scruton I prefer to live in “the pastness of the present” rather than the past itself. This is the difference between being an historically illiterate reactionary and being a true conservative.

Thanks for your question

[mixedgirlrants]

Japanese/ Indian

In a word, the experience is “lonely.“  The perceived spectrum for my appearance runs from "Mexican” (???when was this a race/ ethnicity?) to Filipino to “some kind of Middle Eastern”.  I’ve been called a terrorist and had rocks thrown at me after 9/11, pulled over by cops in San Diego to show proof of citizenship and asked to show my ID to plain clothes officers in NYC.  I have a sibling who is Japanese-passing and our experiences are dramatically different as the way we look is often perceived (esp. by East Asians) as different, particularly as we went to predominantly E. Asian schools.   

I’m first generation immigrant, so our family works very hard to maintain ties with both sides.  Thus, as a child I enthusiastically absorbed as much of my parents’ respective cultures as I could.  I changed my cultural identity as easily as I changed my clothes, and sometimes, that was literally all it took.  Over time, it’s become more difficult because the world is more forgiving to a child whose behavior may fall outside of a culture’s norm than it is to an adult. 

My Indian side is wonderful.  I often think I take them for granted.  For them, the fact that I take pride in India’s diversity and rich history is enough to call me Indian.  What matters to them is that I enjoy making and eating the food they serve, that my feet unconsciously move in response to the sound of a particular thaalam and that their folktales are deeply engrained in my memory.  The problem is that I don’t think I can be the person they seem to think I am.  I eat beef, I don’t want to marry a Brahmin (though I doubt there are many Brahmins who want a spouse who eats beef), I vehemently argue against Hindu nationalism and anti-Muslim sentiment and I call out a lot of traditions that I perceive as chauvinistic in a particularly obnoxious Western fashion.

My relationship with my Japanese side is much more complex.  I have undoubtedly worked much, much harder at being Japanese than I have at being Indian.  My Indian relatives all speak English, so I never bothered to learn their mother tongue.  My Japanese relatives all speak English to a degree but I explicitly go out of my way to perfect my Japanese to make them feel comfortable.  Though I value and perform aspects of my Japanese heritage to the best of my ability even to the extent of forcing myself to adhere to cultural norms that go against who I am, I always feel as though I’m being slammed into a wall.  

I am convinced that for many Japanese people, including members of my family, “Japanese-ness” in its very nature entails focusing on the exclusion of anyone who, however slightly, shows any sign of being “non-Japanese”.  As a half-Japanese person brought up in the US, getting Japanese people to accept me as one of their own is a stretch, at best.  That said, I feel the most comfortable in my skin when I am in Japan.  People over there don’t know what to make of me.  I don’t look Japanese to them (interestingly, non-East Asians always say my sibling and I are obviously related, East Asians always exclaim  how different we look), but the mannerisms and the language are there, so I don’t stick out the way I do in the US.  I’m Buddhist, so being in a majority-Buddhist country, as opposed to a majority-Christian country, is a huge relief.  I can get lost in a sea of people in Japan and feel completely at ease, but the second I have to interact with someone, I can feel myself slamming into the wall again.

There is no community that I fit into. I think of my cultural identity is a tiny island with a population of 2, occupied by me and my sibling and the cultural traditions we share.  However, even then, my sibling’s Japanese-passing appearance has spared them a large portion of the great deal of intra-Asian discrimination directed towards me.  I have had many non-Japanese East Asian Americans bluntly tell me that I am the “wrong kind of Asian”, that my “good” Japanese blood is “tainted” by my inferior Indian heritage.  These same people are more than happy to pin the responsibility of every single Japanese war crime on me.  While I consider it my duty as a Japanese person to promote awareness of Japanese war time atrocities and own to them, I’d rather they picked which of the two reasons they want to hate me for: My “dirty” blood?  Or for being a part of a country with war criminals?  It’s most irritating to be told,”We hate you for the half that has “good” blood but is not evil, but we also hate you for the half that is not evil but still dirty.” 

The hardest part of being the mix that I am is the expectations I think I am expected to meet to prove my membership to the group; who to hate, who to love, what to wear, what to eat, and how to live.  It’s hard to bear 3 countries’ worth of animosity and it’s becoming harder to discern who really I am under these many masks I have unconsciously come to accept are expected of me.  In India, I play the apostate Brahmin Hindu.  In Japan, I am the earnest non-native Japanese half.  In America, I am the ambiguous potentially dangerous immigrant trying to keep my head down.  The question I now find myself struggling with is:

Who do I play when I’m alone?

[birdseyetea]

January Newsletter

Happy New Year!

The stillness of January can be incredibly calming if you let yourself drift into the depths of it. I am pretty slow mentally and physically this time of year, I spend almost all of my time indoors writing, making tea, planning the farm, doing research, mending, etc. This month: treat yourself with love and compassion, take baths and read just for fun. The deep winter is typically the time when we emotionally recharge. The holidays are super hectic and full of excitement, so we do not get the down time we need to fully recharge for the year ahead. Let your body rest as much as it needs and try to create a sacred space in your home where you feel joy, safety, and warmth. I have a little meditation nook in my home that I retreat to a few times a day to help me open my awareness as wide as possible. It is a quiet spot where I learn to cultivate equanimity.

January is a great month to start VISIONING your growing season. Defining what you intend to grow is a big part of the visioning phase: whether it be a garden, an art project, learning a new skill, or embarking on a new adventure. The days are getting a little longer each day, and you will start to notice your energy naturally increase as the days lengthen. For some of us, including myself, visioning involves listening to my intuition, planning gardens for spring, making a seed order, organizing the seeds I collected from last years growing season, mapping out building projects, and creating a beautiful vision for your hopes and dreams in 2017. I rarely start new projects in January, I mostly makes lists, jot down ideas, and organize my life so when the weather warms up and I am rearing to go outside I will have a very clear idea and purpose for what to do and how to do it.

___

2016 was a rough and tumble year for so many people I know and for the country in general. It felt like the universe was in the mood to thrash and storm us awake...to shake and rattle loose the cobwebs, hangups, and parts of our lives that were no longer serving us. It is easy to become complacent and tolerant of situations in our lives that don’t really fit us or feel right, and we can quickly become too comfortable to change things. So big dramas show up in our lives that force us to shift, and hopefully we choose the path that gets us into formation to be the best versions of ourselves we can be.

We each handle moments of crisis differently, so how we individually respond to a world in flux defines where we emotionally find ourselves right now. I think part of what we saw with the presidential election and other congressional races that shifted our government dramatically to the right and into the hands of unpredictable, extremely wealthy, untrustworthy people is that we have so few cultural institutions that teach us how to work constructively with things like fear, anger, uncertainty, trauma, stress, and oppression. Learning new skills and ways of cooperative living that enable everyone to become more free and self aware enough to be responsible with their actions is a huge undertaking that I think we should strive for this year.

I think of the emotions of anger and aggression as fire qualities within us. You actually feel the heat rise when anger presents itself. The hot flash is your central nervous system flooding your body with adrenalin. Anger and aggression are universal characteristics of being human and it actually takes a long time for your body to recover from a spike in adrenalin, and in the recovery phase your body has a lower threshold, making you highly susceptible to another adrenalin fueled episode.  

Ancestral wisdom usually promotes a balance of qualities: masculine/feminine, fire/earth, water/air, etc. If we lived in a holistic culture we would probably learn to cultivate feminine qualities in equal measure to masculine qualities. We would learn to use compassion and generosity more than aggression. And the collective would be emphasized over the importance of the individual. Our ancestors lived most of their lives in a state of calm relaxation, rather than heightened stress. Our bodies are designed to be calm all the time except when we are experiencing a real threat. But we have it all backwards nowadays, we live in ways in which stress rules our lives, we take unnecessary risks and live far less in the familiar sanctuary of multigenerational community than ever before. It is amazing that we live near so many people, yet feel loneliness and depression as frequently as we feel love and support. Why do you think that is? How can you make small shifts in your life to include more connection and sharing?

You can continue reading my thoughts and experience on the element of fire and heat after the tea descriptions!

Morning Wellness Tea: English Breakfast Tea, Ginger, Cinnamon, Chrysanthemum, Orange Zest, Vanilla Bean, and Orange Essential Oil

Morning Wellness Tea is a really nice aromatic black tea blend that warms and wakes the body. English Breakfast tea is often a blend of black teas that has a dark robust taste. The flavor is strong enough to be balanced in British culture by adding milk and sugar (I recommend local honey instead of processed sugar).

This blend will help you wake up in the morning but also gives your body some basic immune support. The aromatic herbs: ginger, cinnamon, and orange zest are warming and anti-microbial. So they will help the body fight fungal and bacterial infections that are associated with colds. They are also drying, which will help dry up a runny nose or a particularly wet cough. Ginger supports your digestive fire, improve the secretion of digestive enzymes, and prevents nausea. Ginger, as well as, cinnamon and orange zest improve peripheral circulation and warm up the body, thus reducing feelings of cold and joint pain. Cinnamon is anti-viral and immune boosting, aiding the body in its fight against the flu virus. Chrysanthemum is a common herb in Traditional Chinese Medicine formulas for colds and flus. It has a strong affinity for upper respiratory system and liver. It has been shown in studies to reduce fever, improve cardiovascular flow, and lower blood pressure.

This is a pretty mild delicious caffeinated tea that gives you a little extra immune support during cold dark January mornings. The strong citrus and vanilla aromatics help elevate your mood and brighten your mind.

CCF plus F Tea: Cumin, Coriander, Fennel, and Fenugreek

CCF tea is a really famous blend of spices used in Ayurvedic Medicine. Ayurveda is the ancient sophisticated medical system in India. CCF plus Fennugreek Tea strengthens your digestive fire and metabolism. It helps restores digestive and circulatory vitality during the winter sluggishness we experience in January.

In Ayurveda, CCF Tea balances Pitta, one of three archetypal doshas or body types. Pitta-type digestive imbalances include over eating, heartburn, nausea, indigestion, bad breath, and loose stool. This tea helps restore balance to the digestive system of overly stressed people. It is a soothing formula that reduces agitation and inflammation.

Cocoa-Mint Tea: Nettles, Peppermint, Roasted Cacao Skins, Honeybush Tea, Jasmine, and Vanilla Bean

Cocoa-Mint Tea is a nourishing herbal tea blend. This tea helps you feel good! You know those first few moments when you dig into a decadent chocolate dessert, you feel amazing, right? This tea is designed to enrapture your senses in the same way but this tea is profoundly more healing to your tissues than dessert and the good feelings last a lot longer. This blend is not really medicinal, just nourishing and delicious.

Nettles are rich is iron, chlorophyll, and protein which accounts for the fullness one feels when they drink nettle tea or eat fresh nettles in the springtime. Nettles help build tissues and provide a huge array of beneficial micronutrients for cell health and vigor. Honeybush Tea comes from South Africa where it is commonly sipped all day. Honeybush is rich is anti-oxidants and minerals. The naturally sweet taste pairs really nicely with the other herbs in this blend. Peppermint is slightly calming and delivers a gorgeous aromatic uplift that dances gracefully with the jasmine and vanilla bean. Cacao skins are the chaff that is winnowed from the beans during the roasting process. The chaff has rich roasted fragrance and flavor. Roasted flavored foods and drinks provide the body with a deep sense of comfort and coziness.      

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We have an overabundance of archetypal masculine energy in our culture, patriarchy (with its patterns of domination through physical strength, competition, and violence) is a very immature childish approach to culture building. It strips most of us of our confidence and humanity over time and undermines the importance of open hearted vulnerability and caregiving. Our culture idolizes hot headed emotionally aggressive tendencies over gracefulness and temperance. Because we live in an aggressive culture, we have been patterned toward behaviors that tend to promote burning down the house rather than practicing the divine act of daily nurturing. And those of us who sincerely believe in the wisdom and power of cooperation and nurturing are extremely undervalued. As a society we have built a culture that prefers impulsive explosive energies over thoughtfulness and generosity.

Let us be the generous light that carries us through this darkness!

I have been working with the element of fire and heat a lot this past year, at one point I thought I was going to burn myself out from the inside, my nervous system was so inflamed and reactive. An imbalance of heat in the body  presents itself as things like panic, insomnia, irritability, self criticism, and indigestion. I knew my life was stacked with really stressful projects and emotional drama, compounded with a concussion from a car accident, so I talked myself into reorganizing aspects of my life and giving as much attention as I could to my own inner landscape. I slowed down and learned how to sit with the discomfort of an overabundance of the element of fire in my body. I let my feelings fully express themselves. Then I investigate them. And now I have started to see what was going on underneath the pulsing heat I felt each day. What function does emotional heat play in my body when it surfaces throughout the day?

Passion, creativity, and curiosity for life are qualities of balanced heat, while enragement, panic, and obsession indicate too much heat. As I deepened my focus on the heat and volatility I was feeling, I began to retrace the path my life has taken. With the help of a therapist I retraced physical and sexual abuse I experienced as a young kid by gymnastics coaches, the social rejections associated with being queer, the sexism and competition that never seems to end...I slowly began to recognize the long term effects of violence against my own soul and how this violence had silenced so much of my innate feminine wisdom, not to mention my confident speaking voice. I felt hollowed out by the long-term destructive power of dominance.

I was also really critical of myself for learned behaviors that gave me a sense of entitlement. We are so impressionable and sensitive, and it is incredibly important to learn to fully rebel against aspects of ourselves or our culture that seek to harm and endanger our relationships with our compassionate heart and place. It has been incredibly cathartic to begin to process the traumas I have experienced. I wish I had learned how to process deep trauma earlier in my life. I was diagnosed with PTSD about six months ago (which I have been living with for more than 20 years, now I just have a name for it) and it has been hard to come to terms with because the emotional responses I experience and have been trying to keep hidden from people have profoundly complicated many of my closest relationships. Because I never talked much about what was going on in my body to anyone, out of fear and shame, I let festering emotional pain and anxiety pile up and burn me out from the inside. And the patterns of stress that are associated with PTSD are probably going to be with me my whole life, but I am so incredibly grateful to have more strength and language to talk about it. And I am learning how to better adapt my holistic tool set such as meditation, nourishing diet, daily self care habits, and focusing on projects and friendships that build a deep cool sense of safety and support to help balance the experience of the cascade of stress hormones that flush through me when I get triggered.

As I go through this self discovery and healing process, I have began, for better or worse, to talk about aspects of myself that are hard to shine light on. So, thank you for letting me be vulnerable. I hope that my journey can give comfort and a voice to other folks who may not have a public outlet.

Before my meltdown, I was having a hard time telling the difference between constructive feedback and harsh criticism. I completely doubted my abilities and purpose as a farmer, herbalist, ecologist, partner, and friend. For most of my adult life I have put myself in situations where I am confronted with regular belittling and passive-aggression by affluent privileged men...and it has always been almost intolerable...At the end of the day those dudes will undoubtedly feel physically and intellectually superior and justified in their anger no matter how carefully and kindly I tread around them.

Misogyny is complicated, and some of us have life experiences and personalities that trigger something deep and unsettling in insecure men. I assume most women have been subject to a lot of moments when men decide to body check, physically attack, or shame them in private or in front of their peers...I know I have. But you know what? Maybe these experiences can be what redefine our commitment to collectively rebelling against immature violent attempts at controlling other people. Humans should not have to struggle to survive their lives, humanity needs to completely distance itself from patterns of domination and let us create cultures that celebrate and honor the wisdom in cooperation and pure kindness...where our creativity and work is guided by an ethics of respect and solidarity as humans and members of the Earth’s diversity.

When I think about the path my life has taken, I must have always had an instinct for healing and being support for those in need. I have never stoped working my butt off to build a life that serves the more tender feminine elements of our world. The cruelty I see and experience in our culture that is associated with masculine dominance and exploitation, has partly deepened my connection to the environment, has inspired me to cultivate love and connection with my friends, and I have become very good at creating gardens, teas, and rituals that honor and celebrate the vulnerabilities in each of us. I have learned to trust the women around me and I’m learning to trust myself so that I can build better relationships to my place and talk with the men in my community about how they too can honor the feminine.    

After a lot of meditation, I began to understand that the fire that was pulsing through my body was not a targeted aggression toward others, it was mostly an agonizing hot stinky deep shame, and a desperate attempt for my body to protect my vulnerability from further insult. So many female bodied people feel shame not because we do anything wrong, but because we have deeply listened to the men throughout our lives reinforce how bad we are at being what they think they deserve. We naturally feel ashamed when we consistently do not fit the expectations that have been set for us by others.

It is so important that we actively work with each other to practice honest self reflection and equanimity in our own personal lives. I learned through this process over the last year that to allow ourselves to grow beyond adolescent reactions, in the hopes of becoming wise, it takes a deep constant commitment to rebelling against our longstanding culture of exploitation, prejudice, and oppression. We must learn to respect the earth, other people, and honor a sense of the sacred in public service and our private lives. We must choose to partner with people that make us feel alive and free.

Healthy communities start with healthy relationships to place. Simply taking good care of your friends and family, and taking steps to make your own neighborhood beautiful, safe, and more welcoming to outsiders is a good place to start. Living in a culture where kindness, social justice, and basic human rights are honored starts by recognizing yourself in others. We all arrive in this world naked and vulnerable, other people nurtured you as best they could throughout your life. Now it is time to give back and become a deeply nurturing person yourself, to act in fierce defense and support for the common good and our precious resources. There are so many ways each of us can use our creativity and resources to participate in the beautiful dance of give and take within our communities. Also stepping outside your comfort zone to engage and strengthen ties to organizations and efforts to empower the most vulnerable among us actively reinforces the power of feminine generosity. I really think we all need a whole lot more doses of femininity in our daily lives!