seasons

Panchakarma is a highly restorative and detoxifying therapeutic treatment used in Ayurvedic medicine. Deriving from the Sanskrit language, pancha meaning “five” and karma meaning “actions,” Panchakarma is a healing treatment that uses a variety of procedures to cleanse the body, revitalize the immune system and re-establish mental and physical balance. It is a completely unique experience for each person and is individualized based on the individual’s particular needs.

The only consistency in our lives as humans is change. In Ayurvedic tradition, the autumn symbolizes the pinnacle of transition in the course of the year. We witness change and transition in the landscape and in the later rise and earlier descent of the sun, and we certainly can feel it in the air and in our bodies.

Happy autumn solstice! September 22 officially marks the beginning of fall, and what better way to pay homage to the withdrawing sun than with 108 sun salutations at sunrise or sunset? It’s a number that’s auspicious in Buddhism and many more religions. The malas (rosaries) of Tibetan monks include 108 beads, which is a nod to the 108 volumes Buddha dubbed the Tibetan Kangyur. Zen priests also wear 108 beads in a juzu on their wrists.

In Chinese Meridian Theory there are 5 Elements and each Element corresponds to a time of the year. Now, we are in the season of Earth, the late summer time of year. These are the last few hot days of summer, which will soon be turning into autumn. The Earth Element is about being grounded.

The Autumn Equinox is one of my favorite seasonal transitions to experience. Don’t get me wrong – I love all of the seasons and I appreciate the changes, but Autumn is just the bee’s knees.

No matter the lifestyle you are living, there are bound to be certain worries that come along with it. I lived “on the grid” for most of my life. In 2012 my little family and I decided to plunge ourselves into the woods and off of the grid. As I studied, practiced, and prepared for this transitional tidal wave of a shift, I realized that my worries and concerns would now be different in many ways. It was interesting then, and still is today, to sit back and compare the differences.

This weekend, my brother, his old friend, and I, got to talking about Ohio.  About how sometimes it’s a wonderful place. My brother and I grew up near Cleveland, but neither of us spends much time at home anymore.  He was recently living in Southeast Asia, and now, upon coming home, he’s moved out to the Pacific Northwest.  He said he just couldn’t stand the winters, the seemingly endless season of 5pm sunsets and ice-crusted mornings.  For my part, I didn’t mind the cold.  I just wished Ohio weren’t so flat.  I longed for mountains.

My family and ancestors are from the tropics. The seasons they experienced were the harmattan and rain.  Even though I find comfort and ease in warm weather, I acknowledge that I was raised in New England. I’ve faced many climates growing up on the east coast. I must say, navigating the winters of my life have always been the hardest. The sunlight left too soon and the darkness would stay too long.  The snow could be unbearable. When another six feet of snow came down, I would throw my hands up in exasperation, believing the storms would never end.