I experienced first hand the lack of formalized postpartum healthcare that exists for most women who live in the US with the birth of each of my three babies. I can attest to feeling lost, frustrated, numbed, exhausted and alone during the very fragile, tender, confusing yet vitally important weeks after the birth of all three of my children.

I gave birth to three thankfully healthy children, and together with my husband James, we worked hard (laughed harder) and, through thick and thin, raised these beautiful souls to adulthood.
​
(And hopefully someday they will also welcome their own babies into this world! In the meantime, I hope to support other new mothers!

Within less than an hour after the birth of my first child, my daughter Kiki, I was given 5 minutes of confusing instructions on breastfeeding, by a harried RN who snapped at me when I held my breast incorrectly and gave up, exasperated by my confusion. When I got home a day later, sore and traumatized by the entire birthing process, I had no idea that my daughter wasn't getting enough breastmilk, as my colostrum hadn't come in yet. She became dehydrated after a day or so, and jaundiced, and she was returned to the NICU to replenish her fluids and recover from the jaundice. If someone had been there who understood lactation, and how the baby needed supplemental fluids, I do believe the stress of returning to the hospital would not have occurred. 

My second daughter, Brigid, was born via a C-Section. This is major abdominal surgery, and while a standard phenomenon here, still has a wide variety of risk factors postpartum.  Within a few days of returning home,  I developed a high fever and chills. Not knowing what was causing it, I drove myself and my infant daughter to my GP, and, standing in front of the receptionist's desk asking for an emergency appointment, shaking and feeling ready to pass out, was told I needed to go to my OB/Gyn, who was fortunately able to see me that afternoon. They soon determined it was mastitis, due to a blocked milk duct, put me on an antibiotic, and sent me home to recover. 

My third child, my son Sean, was born less than two years after Brigid, in the Fall of 1997. His was an unusual birth, called a VBAC: vaginal birth after C-Section, which is nowadays often discouraged as too dangerous. But, I felt like an old hand at giving birth, and indeed, Sean's was my most easeful L&D. No drugs, only about an hour or so of actual hard labor and pushing, before he came into the world. Still, again, I was sent home with little to no support: at this stage, with three children, my husband was working a stressful and demanding job at the time, and was our sole breadwinner, too. Besides a weekly visit from my Mother or MIL, and the occassional friend or relative who came by to coo over the new baby, I was at home, essentially on my own, with an infant, a toddler, and a six year old to care for. Initially, too, I was breastfeeding both Sean and Brigid, until I weaned her a month or so later!

Needless to say, I was exhausted! I remember feeling as if my body was being whittled away, that my conception of myself was disintegrating. Fortunately, something wise inside recalled the grounded, peaceful feelings I'd had after taking yoga classes when Kiki was a baby. I looked up "Yoga" in the Yellow Pages (there was no internet back then!) and I miraculously found a yoga studio only five minutes from my house - Heartsong Yoga. I went to a Kripalu style class that evening, taught by my first real yoga teacher, Sheila Magelhaes. The blissful experience of being filled up and replenished by that class set me on a completely different course in life - one that ultimately brought me more deeply into yoga, which lead eventually to Ayurveda, and to becoming an Ayurvedic Postpartum Doula.

Ghee, otherwise knowns as clarified butter, is traditionally revered in Indian culture, and has been used as part of the vast cuisines of Central Asia, and also in Ayurveda, for thousands of years. It is lactose-free, shelf stable, and has a high burning point.

From an Ayurvedic standpoint, ghee is considered a vital means of improving digestion, increasing the absorption of nutrients, enhancing the healing properties of herbs, lubricating the body inside and outside, boosting immunity—and provides many more benefits, too. Ghee nourishes the body and all the doshas, and it especially balances vata, which is so universally imbalanced in most of us these days*. Ghee can be used to provide internal and even external oleation, to help mitigate environmental and cultural toxins and stressors that provoke vata (air and space) dosha. 

Yesterday, the 26th of December, was the Full Moon, and so I made ghee. The Full Moon is a day that the Vedas say is auspicious for making ghee because it increases the quality of Soma - a Vedic source of nourishment, nectar, and bliss - within this magical substance. Soma is associated with the moon, and soma "nectar" is often referred to in the ancient texts as a means to attain greater wellbeing - even immortality.

The Moon, like the Sun, enables Life as it has evolved to exist and thrive on our planet. Just as the gravitational pull of the Moon can draw upon the ocean tide, the essence of the milk used to make ghee is enhanced during this brief but powerful moment in the lunar cycle. 

In fact, a local purveyor of Ghee, Full Moon Ghee, makes ghee on the full moon. If you don't feel like making ghee, I highly recommend their product. It's costly, but sublime, organic and local!

​I use ghee mostly in cooking, not only for its high smoke point, but also to add richness to dishes, especially Ayurvedic ones! I also use it cosmetically at times, especially in the Winter when my skin and lips get really dry. I've also experienced Netra Basti, an amazing eye-restorative practice that's really helpful if you suffer from itchiness, redness or eye strain. 

So, I try to honor the Moon’s ancient, mysterious, life-giving power by making ghee on the Full Moon, usually every few months when my ghee supply runs low. Traditional Vedic chanting and a reverent mindfulness of the special qualities of ghee, while you're making the ghee can add to is benefits, and from an Ayurvedic perspective, also help increase its nourishing, rejuvenating powers as you make it.

Here's how I make ghee:

What you'll need:

• 2-4 sticks (depending upon how much you want to make) of ideally organic, but always grass fed, unsalted butter (I personally love Kerrygold Unsalted butter)
• A heavy thick bottomed but smallish saucepan (too big and the ghee will cook too quickly)
• A fine mesh sieve or cheesecloth and strainer
• A sterilized glass mason jar with a sterilized lid set that will hold all your beautiful ghee

15-20 minutes at most.

Put the butter into your saucepan and bring up the heat to medium. The butter should slowly come to a simmer - you'll hear an increasing sound of water bubbles being evaporated off and solids separating as the ghee comes to its gentle roar.

Once it begins to bubble strongly and sounds fairly loud, turn the heat down to medium-low. Really watch and LISTEN to the ghee. Be mindful as you make it to its look, sound and smell. The clarified part will become more golden and the solids will change from white to tan or light brown over time. The sound of evaporation will decrease as the water dissipates and burns off. You'll start to smell the butterfat becoming more rich - it has a theater-popcorn-like smell that is heavenly.

Don't stir during all of this: just watch, smell and listen. You'll see foam rising to the top and whitish curds dropping to the bottom as the fat begins to separate from the solids. Some folks like to skim the foam off, but I let the ghee do its thing, and simply move the foam to one side to keep an eye on the color of the milk solids. Plus, I believe stirring tends to create a more "crystallized" ghee when it hardens afterwards. This crystallization doesn't effect the taste, just the look and consistency. (Plus, the Kerrygold butter never seems to have a foaming or a crystalizing issue.)

Eventually, the sound of evaporating will die down, to only a few tiny plops and plinks. It's now, in these last few minutes, that you must watch your ghee like a hawk! Don't let it overcook or burn: burning is indicated if the mild solids become dark brown or black! The solids should be at most caramel colored by the end, and the ghee a lovely golden color.

When the sound is almost nonexistent and the curds are lightly tanned, take the saucepan off the heat, and let the ghee cool to lukewarm. Again, don't stir, but do carefully pour the ghee into your jar through a fine meshed sieve or cheesecloth to strain out the foam and solids, which can be composted (some folks like to add these to baked goods for an increased "brown butter" flavor!) 

Ghee is shelf stable and can be kept on the counter indefinitely - like honey, it is believed to be a product that only gets better with age, as long as no contaminents are in the jar, or put into the ghee with a utensil, so always use a clean spoon when taking ghee out of the jar!


*Ghee is a wonderful source of healthy fat for almost everyone - but, as with most fats, should be used sparingly, nevertheless. It is not recommended for folks with high cholesterol levels, nor for those with heart disease, fatty liver issues, obesity, and some pregnant women with digestive issues. Consult with me or with an Ayurvedic Health Counselor in your area. While its lactose content is very low to nonexistent,  and folks with lactose intolerance issues should be able to use it - it's not dairy free,  In fact, ghee is the soma nectar, the nes plus ultra, ultimate form of dairy, and thus, in Indian culture where the cow is considered Holy, most highly revered and honored.

Every month or so, I get an email from a person who's looking for a Mysore style Ashtanga Yoga program in the Northampton area (I used to teach one for about a decade) and I have to give them the sad news that our program at Ashtanga Yoga Northampton ended in the Summer of 2020, and that there's no Mysore program in the Noho area, or really, at all in Western Mass.*

Well before the pandemic hit, I had come to terms with the fact that the Mysore program I ran was an unsustainable business model. (See this article from 2013 by Peg Mulqueen outlining why it's not as lucrative as teaching group classes.)

My husband, who is a very wise and successful businessman, would shake his head ruefully whenever I shared what I earned after expenses each month. I generally only shared what I made if it had been a good month - it was that disheartening for him. But, I'd laugh at his silent consternation, and gently give him a kiss of gratitude on the cheek, while saying, "Just consider that I'm running the nonprofit wing of the Ryan Family."

Admittedly, teaching Mysore style was exhausting: getting up 4 or 5 mornings a week in the dark, and driving 30-40 minutes to open the studio for the early students. On our busiest mornings, there'd be about 20 people who'd show up during the three hour window of practice time. On the slow days, only 8-10 people would come to class. We sold a lot of very reasonably priced unlimited monthly passes, which were very affordable - a steal really, if you came to class at least 3 times a week. And we had several scholarship students. Not profitable, not sustainable. But, very sweet, nonetheless. Oh well. Capitalism.

We soldiered on until the pandemic shut us down, finally. And I must admit, I was grateful for it: I was knackered out, exhausted from a decade of trying to make it work. But, I loved to teach Mysore, up until the very end, and really didn't want to quit. It took a global pandemic to shut us down: I am that stubborn.
James never quite understood that it wasn't about earning money for me, but rather, the "payment" came through the intense fulfillment of real human connections I made as a Mysore teacher, and especially, the dear, sweet sense of strong community - one built during quiet, silent moments of deep concentration, in instances of stress-relieving, lighthearted, shared humor, and in heartfelt groupwide appreciations or murmurs of support or encouragement. We gloried in our fellow practitioners overcoming a longstanding challenge, whether it be physical or emotional. And, we all "knew" each other's Ashtanga practices: the ways our bodies and minds were eased and challenged and molded over many months and years by the yoga. We were all in it together. Very sweet. True community.

All of this was possible only because it happened in a container of deep trust and commitment to each other, and because of our mutual love of the Ashtanga modality of yoga - really, of vinyasa, that glorious innovation of Krishnamacharya's: breath and movement melded in a grand and glorious unity, to create something sublime, to birth the state of yoga.

Yes, the postures were spectacularly challenging sometimes, but ultimately, the focus wasn't so much on "doing the postures", but rather, doing the postures *while* purposefully focusing more on the simple but profoundly transformative practice of breathing "freely, with sound".

(The word I said most in that room was "Breathe!")

But, alas, there is a tendency towards egoic hierarchies of domination that can potentially manifest in these same spaces, and the ableist and ageist pitfalls one can fall into, especially if one is a newer Ashtanga teacher, too. Nothing is perfect, if humans are involved, after all! But, these pitfalls can be easily avoided if we let our egos dissolve, and it's such a brilliant system, Ashtanga can and will do that for you, if you surrender to it, that is - ishvarapranidhanad va!

Sadly, this method of learning yoga, which is really quite traditional to how it's taught in India, pre-capitalist as it were, was soooo hard to explain to prospective students. It's almost impossible to help folks understand how the Mysore Ashtanga was absolutely so much better for those learning it or new to yoga, than an Ashtanga class that went through the full series all at once - that it slowed the learning process down into smaller chunks that most folks could grock more easily and safely - so much that it was a brilliant method for everyone, no matter how old, no matter how fit or not. "Semi-private yoga geared to YOU in a group setting" is as close as I got to explaining it -and still people would look at me in a pleased confusion when asked what it is I "did" for "work."

"Why not come to a class and watch?" I'd say, and the rare person who came to watch would be blown away by the sheer beauty of breath and human bodies of all kinds in motion - so unlike any other yoga class they'd ever been too - but, still, so intimidated they would be afraid to return.

No, most folks need sound bites and bullet points and pictures, and the anonymity of being lost in a group of practitioners all doing the same thing simultaneously, maybe with a little hip-hop groove added to numb the mind a bit, too. Nuance is lost in bullet points. Even what I am describing right now doesn't actually describe the deep, subtle, intense, lovely and profound experience of being in a committed and longstanding Mysore room with steady veteran practitioners and earnest newbies, all being shepherded by a wise, kind and sensible teacher/practitioner holding the space. Hence, why I still get emails from hopeful students, and while I still feel a bit brokenhearted when I have to tell them, "No, I don't teach a Mysore program any more."

*I think, but am not sure, that Sruti Yoga in Great Barrington, still offers a session once or twice a week. Go support them, if you can!

We've had an odd winter, with fluctuating temperatures and not a lot of snow. (As much as some would want to deny it, climate change is real, and if you're tuned into the Earth, you'll sense something definitely feels out of whack.) According to Ayurveda, it's exactly when the weather fluctuates or seems "not right" for the season that our bodies get confused and lose equilibrium. Ayurveda - the "sister science of yoga" - believes that food is medicine. Thus, eating nourishing, grounding winter veggie soups right now is a great way to help maintain balance of mind and body.

I make this soup for lunch, at least once a week all year long, using seasonal produce so that it's appropriately balancing whatever time of year it might be. It’s quick, taking less than 20 minutes from start to finish, and perfect when you want to feel deeply nourished and satisfied, but not full or bloated.

This seasonal "Winter Warming" version  is rich, hearty and stew-like, and helps to balance vata dosha, the air and space elements of our bodies, which are easily sent out of whack during this wildly fluctuating New England Winter weather. I’ve included chopped carrots and fennel, and chopped kale. The colors are lovely, sunny and bright. Served with or without basmati rice, it’s a perfectly satisfying, delicious meal!

Winter Warming Chick Pea & Red Lentil Soup
Serves 4
3 TBS olive oil (alternatively, you could use ghee if you’re not vegan)
1 1/2 Tsp fennel seeds
1 1/2 Tsp coriander seeds
1 1/2 Tsp cumin seeds
1 Tsp ground turmeric
Pinch of hing or asaphoetida
2 TBS tomato paste
2 carrots, cut into thin slices or 1/2 inch cubes
5-6 inches of leek, cleaned and chopped into short ribbons (omit if you’re avoiding alliums - but if so, double the hing!)
1/2 of a medium head of fennel (chop the delicate fennel fronds if you have them, to use as garnish!)
1 cup red lentils, rinsed well in several washes until the water runs clear, then drained
1 can chick peas, rinsed well and drained.
4-6 cups of water, depending upon how thick you like your soup.
1/2-1 tsp salt to taste
Black pepper to taste
Totally Optional:
1 cup chopped fresh greens like spinach, chard or dino kale
1/2 a can of coconut milk
Dried unsweetened organic coconut, for garnish

In a warming dutch oven or heavy bottomed pot, add oil or ghee, then leeks, carrots, and fennel., and sweat for a bit until they take on a shine, 2-3 minutes. Heat should be medium-low, and make sure that the leeks (if using) don’t char. 

Meanwhile, place coriander, fennel and cumin seeds in a mortar and pestle, and grind until they’ve broken down considerably (they need not become a powder, but you want to break up the coriander seeds fairly well; if you don’t have a mortar and pestle, you can use powdered versions of these spices, but reduce to 1 Tsp each.)

Add spices to the cooking veggies, along with the turmeric and hing. Stir for 2-3 minutes, then add tomato paste. Stir again for 2 minutes to coat veggies, then add rinsed red lentils and chick peas and salt. Stir to coat everything for 30 seconds, then add water, scraping the pot well to incorporate everything.

Bring to a low simmer, cover the pot and cook 20 minutes, or until the red lentils have begun to disintegrate. This soup is really hearty enough on it’s own, but if you want to make it even more rich, add up to a half a can of coconut milk about halfway through, and stir to combine.

Check to see that the soup is not getting dried out or boiling down too quickly—add more water as necessary to maintain a stew-like consistency. Root veggies should be cooked through, but not mushy. Once the red lentils and carrots are cooked, if desired, add a cup of chopped greens and stir.
​
Take the pot off the heat once they greens are bright and heated through. Adjust salt & pepper to taste, and serve topped with a scattering of the dried coconut (which in this picture looks a lot like parmesan, but truly isn't!) the fennel fronds if you’ve got them (I've added a big dash of Herbal Salt from Burlington, VT's excellent Railyard Apothecary) plus a tiny pinch of turmeric. Enjoy!

Nadi shodhana (sometimes called "alternate nostril breathing", often called "nerve purification" but literally meaning "channel" or even "tube" cleansing) was highly recommended by the "root guru" of the yoga lineages I teach, the "Father of Modern Yoga" TKV Krishnamacharya, seen above practicing nadi shodhana at age 87. This is a safe, effective pranayama practice for mental clarity, for calming the mind and body, for dealing with stress, anxiety, fear. It is also a preparatory practice for deeper and more challenging pranayama practices. From my own experience as a dedicated daily nadi shodhana practitioner of about 20 years, and from teaching it to many students over the past decade, it is the easiest, gentlest and most effective form of pranayama, accessible to all, when done correctly. Folks with high blood pressure and who are pregnant may do this practice without any retentions/holding of the breath. ​

-To practice nadi shodhana, sit comfortably, and ideally, relax your shoulders, soften your jaw, breath gently, and make a mudra with your right hand, called vishnu mudra.
​(If Vishnu Mudra doesn't work, simply use the thumb and forefinger of the right hand, or alternatively, place the middle and index fingers of the right hand on your third eye/brow, and use the thumb and ring/pinky from that angle.) 

-Breathe in a relaxed way, fully and deeply through both nostrils, for a few breaths. 

-Then, block your right nostril with the right thumb (not at the "hole" but further up closer to the place where the soft tissue meets the bone.) Inhale gently and slowly through the left nostril until comfortably "filled up", then block the left nostril as well with your right ring and pinky fingers.

-Softly retain the breath on the inhale for a brief moment, then release your thumb and exhale through the right nostril slowly and fully. Then, inhale through the right nostril, another soft, very brief inhale retention with both nostrils closed, and finally, exhale fully out the left. This is one round.  Practice nadi shodhana for 3-6 rounds.

-Finish nadi shodhana by exhaling out of the left nostril on the last round, then drop your hand, breathe through both nostrils a few times, and notice how you feel. Then go about the rest of your day, ideally with more clarity and vitality.

Practice Notes & Tips: The inhales and exhales should be even in length and quality. Never force, don't strain: simply follow the prana as it flows, from one nostril to the next, back and forth, up and down, as you relax and breathe fully. Ideally, the breath length should be a minimum of 5 seconds for the inhale and 5 seconds exhale. The length of the breath can be extended  as you become more proficient, but again, never strain to do so.

Remember, don't abuse yourself or compete with yourself with any yoga practice. Be gentle, and care for the temple of your mind and body by taking it slow and easy, never forcing. Do 3-6 rounds with a 10 second breath (5/5) every day for a month and develop a good habit. Then perhaps try to increase as you feel ready to longer breaths for the next month, increasing until your breathing is slow, steady and easy. Our ancestors had much slower breaths than we modern domesticated humans do, and so perhaps one way for you to help our planet as an individual is to slow down and be mindful about your own breathing in this simple way! The slow and steady approach is better than blasting yourself with many, many rounds a few days, and then never doing it again. Dedicated, daily practice and repetition is key to learning and key to proficiency in ANYTHING. Give it a try.  

I cleanse my body every Spring the Ayurvedic way, following a simple monodiet protocol of kitchari, daily abhyanga, gentle yoga, and an earlier bedtime for 5-7 days! Never done a cleanse? A plethora of Spring cleanse options are available online, and I endorse these trusted ones: be guided by or cleanse collectively with Alicia Hunter, Kate O’Donnell, or Dr. Vasant Lad. 

And if you just don’t feel like doing a cleanse, but want to eat a little cleaner, try my favorite kitchari recipe for a couple of days, along with yoga and bed time, for a mini reset. 

Michelle’s Kitchari Recipe (adapted from the Ayurvedic Center of Vermont's One Pot Kitchari Recipe)

This is a great recipe that I've done dozens of times and really love. It can be made all in one pot by skipping the tempering of the ghee with the ground spices in a separate pan by simply adding these all to the pot instead.

• 1/2 cup white basmati rice
• 1/2 cup split mung beans/yellow split dhal (adjust ratio of rice to dhal based on your needs)
• 7+ cups water
• 1/3 cup shredded unsweetened coconut
• 2 inches fresh ginger root, grated or diced (or 1 tsp dried powdered ginger if you don't have fresh)
• 2 inches fresh turmeric root, grated or diced (or 1 tsp dried powdered turmeric if you don't have fresh)
• 1/8 teaspoon asafoetida aka hing (optional)
• Seasonal veggies - carrots, zucchini, squash, fennel bulb, chard, kale, bok choy, cilanatro, etc. -approx. 2 cups

Tempered ghee 

• 1  teaspoon cumin seeds
• 1 teaspoon fennel seeds
• 1 teaspoon coriander seeds
• 1 tsp ground turmeric (yes, more turmeric!)
  
• 2 tablespoon ghee 
• 8-10 curry leaves (optional)

Finishing

• 1 cup greens (use bitter ones, like dandelions, for Spring Cleansing!)
• cilantro leaves, more shredded coconut, a wedge of lime, sautéed greens, more tempered ghee if your cholesterol is low.
• Salt to taste (no more than 2 tsp - and 1 tsp max if you are pitta predominant) 
• Other optional spices, including curry powder, garam masala, bay leaf, black pepper

​

1. Wash and rinse rice and dhal in a deep steel pot or dutch over thoroughly with cold water, 2-3 times, draining off cloudy water each time. 
2. Add 7 cups of water to pot and bring to a gentle boil for 5-10 min. Skim off most/all of the foam that forms.
3. Lower heat and add the chopped ginger, turmeric and the ground coconut. If using beets, add them at this time, too.Cook for 10 minutes.
4. Add remaining veggies except the greens. Stir occasionally to prevent sticking.
5. While kitchari cooks, grind spices in a spice grinder, or a mortar and pestle. (You may substitute powdered spices for whole in the same amounts, if necessary.) In a small pan, melt ghee and add spices, and curry leaves if you have them. Warm on medium-low until spices are fragrant, then set aside off heat. Be careful not to scorch the spices! 
6. Stir this "tempered" ghee into the pot. Add the hing and salt to taste. Cook 5 minutes. 
7. At this point, the kitchari should be getting fairly thick, so test for doneness - it should be very soft. If not, add more water, and cook until it reaches a consistency you prefer, from hearty stew to a thinner nourishing light soup. More water, more soup-like!
8. Stir in the greens until they wilt (or alternatively steam your greens separately and add on top when serving.) Taste and add more water or any more of the suggested spices. 
9. Serve in bowls, topped with cilantro and a wedge of lime, some shredded coconut, and maybe a pinch of curry powder. Sometimes I temper a tsp of ghee with a pinch or two of whole fennel, coriander and cumin to add on top as well (see image.) Enjoy!

The thing we have all been conditioned to believe about menopause is that once we are no longer fertile, we are nothing, worthless, in this society. It's just not true! (Die patriarchy.) Meanwhile, I will share are story that, when I first heard it, gave me a sense of empowerment and hope. Even if you find it to be a tad too "woo woo," it is nevertheless a good way of explaining our reality, or rather, a good story to help understand a woman’s body at each of its stages - and to heal your relationship with it, perhaps. It's shared with that goal. Here goes:

Women are blessed by the bodies they are born into because those bodies have the *potential* for transformation into distinct stages, bodily forms, not just once, but several times during the life of that body. With each transformation comes the ability to also transform and evolve/grow the mind - in wisdom, compassion and power

The body/mind of a child evolves into the body/mind of the *potentially* fertile woman upon onset of menses. The body that experiences menses and chooses to sensitize itself to that experience fully can become attuned to the movements of the moon - hence menses, which means “month” ultimately “moon.” Because the blood flows downwards each month, naturally without our mentally willing it, the body can become attuned to and connected to the earth, too. Hence, the fertile body has the potential to connect deeply with its biome. So, menses is a wonderful thing, the blood is not dirty but cleanses, and is a great blessing, it is not a "curse" as we have been told (again, Die Patriarchy), but I won't go into why here. 

The fertile young body can become a new body before menopause, as it sometimes may become pregnant with new life. Pregnancy, in other words, creates a new body, another stage to inhabit and explore for a time, experiencing the sacred and mysterious sharing of the body with another human, intimately, as well as becoming the portal for new life and the experience of labor and delivery. Not all obtain a fertile body, nor do all explore the opportunity of the pregnancy body  - either through choice or circumstance. Nor does the life-bearing body signify that the identity associated with that body is somehow "more of a woman". Not at all. It is just a body (besides, the soul housed in it is genderless, ultimately.) If it is someone’s fate to bring new life into this plane of existence, great - but the pregnant body is just another potential body/form - that is all. Still, this form is also abused by patriarchy, as the control and management of the pregnant body has been ripped from those who experience it, although I sense lately a positive shift towards the sovereignty of the pregnant body. (Again, Die, die Patriarchy.)

Meanwhile, the body of the fertile young woman is most valued in modern culture, if “value” is even a good term for it. Still, we can all sense that we are conditioned by patriarchy to admire and desire that stage of the body most of all - and conversely, to judge and even hate our bodies if they do not fit this “ideal.” Yet this body cannot escape patriarchy, either, because it is objectified by its admiration—that is, it may be admired, but its sovereignty and autonomy is not respected. Yes, it is the body that is most often sought to fulfill desire, or even “love” - but I suspect rather, that the form of love or desire is wrapped up in “ownership” far too often. If that body resists ownership, then that body is sometimes destroyed by those who cannot handle being told, “No.”

Still, it is the ideal of our forms, and thus, far too many of us try to sustain this youthful body well beyond its shelf life, and we exhaust and deplete ourselves when we do so - which is why when we finally hit menopause, the “change” becomes so very difficult for many of us. Mostly because we approach it with anxiety, dread, fear, grief and loathing born of conditioning, and we enter it depleted and exhausted because our society usually puts the greatest burdens and responsibilities upon us during the time of life just before menopause, too. All of us are expected to work very hard to sustain our own lives, careers, families, homes, fearful of not “having it all” - and in the West at least, women at this stage do not enjoy the aid and comfort of the wise woman elders of our society, which historically up until very recently helped shoulder these great burdens.

Not only are most of us alone in managing this responsibilities during this very busy time, we are also conditioned to punish, abuse, starve, sculpt, stretch, shape, abrade, and generally do violence upon our bodies in order to sustain the idealized "fertile maiden" body for as long as possible. (I did this, too, for too long.) When, in fact, we should be resting as much as we can *whenever* we feel tired, in order to sustain/build resiliency to manage the next change: menopause.

So, the body of the child and the body of the pregnant woman are not as valued as the fertile young woman here. But, the body of the elder woman is the least valued, if at all, in our culture. Many of us in society, regardless of how we identify ourselves, perceive the body of the old woman as abhorrent. Many of us don’t even acknowledge it at all: the menopausal woman becomes invisible - and thus, unseen, nothing, worthless. The menopausal body is thus feared and looked upon with disgust, dismay and grief by those who are fated to inhabit it. Die die die die patriarchy. 

But, the menopausal body is the body of the wise woman elder. The body that has experienced loss and joy, grief and happiness, the body that has learned lessons and experienced shocks and sufferings and gained resilience, patience, compassion, empathy and yes, wisdom - deep, deep wisdom - and with those life experiences, great power, too. Menopause, the stage of the wise woman elder, is something to be celebrated, not feared. We come into our own. 

Dismantling this old story of oppression and negation, a false and evil story that tells us that the ONLY the body afforded a questionable “value” is the one we inhabit when we are young, fertile and beautiful, is a truly vital part of dismantling and ending the oppression of ourselves as individuals, oppression of women, and the hierarchy of domination and control that mostly men have over women and children on this planet, too, and all the systems upon which this domination have been built.

I heard this story a decade ago, albeit, my teacher, Nancy Gilgoff, just touched upon the stages for me, and shared the idea of the different "bodies" and the blessings of each body; the rest here are my words, born of a decade of ruminating upon the story and digesting it. But, it shifted something in me when I heard it; before it, I had been afraid of menopause, sensed it looming ahead of me with dread and anxiety. But, once heard, I thought long and hard about this story, and it was the beginning of an emancipation that literally changed who I was, changed my relationships with my husband and children, made them more healthy and whole. And, it changed how I experienced menopause, too. Once I digested this story, I found I no longer feared menopause, and actually looked forward to what was coming. And, I had an easier time than most. I entered into it finally this past year: my last menses was in February. I am so happy and proud to be a wise woman elder now. 

In short, it's important that we understand how we've been conditioned to fear menopause. And I tell you, dear friends, even if you are in the midst of it now (and if you are, Congratulations, I am happy for you, and you are most welcome to this stage, my sister!) it is never too late to embrace your menopausal body: the beautiful body of the wise woman elder. And, it’s never too late to embrace and embody your inherent power—a power which goes beyond all forms.

I love this new body, this stage of life, and the wisdom and power it holds. This body is beautiful and strong and rooted in awareness of its true value and its rightful place in the consensus reality we share. This body gives NO fucks. This body is unafraid to speak truth to power. This body is wise and wonderful, and sweet and soft if it wants to be, but underneath, is as strong and resilient as the roots of a strong, tall, majestic and dignified tree or mountain.

If what happened in our nation's capitol this past Wednesday angered, saddened and disturbed you, and made you feel helpless, then I offer this story to you for your emancipation and empowerment, regardless of your gender identity. Digest it, and perhaps some day you will embrace it, too, or not. It's just a story. But, we need new stories to help free ourselves from the old, limiting, oppressive stories of a weary world which keep us enslaved and hating our bodies, perhaps addicted to the gaze of objectification, in thrall to society’s judgment of our bodies, or suffering from self-loathing, at every stage of our lives.

​This story freed me; I hope it frees you, too. May we all find our way.