Any woman (and maybe even man) of- a- certain- age has looked into the mirror and noticed those little saddlebags forming just northeast and northwest of her chin. Wondering what it would look like if I did a little facelift, I’ve pulled up a bit on each side to smooth the chin to cheek line again. Yes! I’ve shed a decade!
I’m highly unlikely to ever submit to a knife or even chemical, or electrical treatments to keep that smoother look. There is an Ayurveda massage of the face which we teasingly call an “Ayurvedic Face Lift.” It is soothing to the mind and relaxing to the face, massaging energy points for rejuvenation and massaging that jaw line upward. I give others this treatment, but haven’t had one myself for years. It might help.
Meanwhile, I have discovered the ultimate face lift—smiling. When I smile, I can see that it pulls up those saddlebags into my cheeks to make a full, happy face. And smiling doesn’t only lift my face—it lifts me and those I smile at. I feel younger when I smile, as well as look younger.
So experiment—see how much younger YOU look by exercising your smiling muscles in a happy dance more often during the day.
14 January 2011
11 November 2010
When Death is Now
When Death is now-
My body bereft of the Living Me is
Still sacred, though scarred-
Still divine, though diminished-
Still me, though mortal-
DO NOT give my body to a stranger, hired.
Don’t zip me up in body bag, like leftovers,
soon to be forgotten in the back of the refrigerator.
No draining of my blood.
No filling my vessels with formaldehyde.
No trocanters piercing and sucking out my once-vital organs.
Some who love me PLEASE
Gently wash me, anointing me with sandalwood & rose.
Dress me in my favorite clothes.
Spritz rose water, like love, on everyone.
Surround me with my familiar objects, still telling my story.
Sweeten my death bed with rose petals, homegrown if possible-
(Thank you Rose, Thank you Rose, Thank you Rose
for assisting with this healing.)
Say goodbye, as much as you each need to.
Laugh & cry over this flesh that laughed and cried with you so many times.
And then, let this Beloved Corpse rest -
nestled in Mother Earth’s womb-
wrapped in the shroud I’ve already embellished-
enfolded by Her, shovel-full by shovel-full-
this clod returning to clod.
Dance and sing on my grave, but leave soft entrance
For the native rose bush planted there--
My monument will be
flowers in the summer
rosehips in the winter.
10 September 2010
Finally I Surrendered
Feeling poor
I tried buying my way to happiness.
It all ended in the ruins of dumps and landfills.
My own Spirit still haunted me with want.
Feeling lonely
I looked into so many eyes.
Opening up my arms and legs to all comers,
I hoped to find a way to prop open the door to my heart.
Still it slammed shut in my face over & over again.
Finally I surrendered
Sitting
Quietly
Day after Day
Breathing In
Breathing Out.
The seed God planted in me has room to grow into
A Divine Garden of Life, overflowing my heart.
Now Love & Abundance begin within.
--Terra Rafael
I tried buying my way to happiness.
It all ended in the ruins of dumps and landfills.
My own Spirit still haunted me with want.
Feeling lonely
I looked into so many eyes.
Opening up my arms and legs to all comers,
I hoped to find a way to prop open the door to my heart.
Still it slammed shut in my face over & over again.
Finally I surrendered
Sitting
Quietly
Day after Day
Breathing In
Breathing Out.
The seed God planted in me has room to grow into
A Divine Garden of Life, overflowing my heart.
Now Love & Abundance begin within.
--Terra Rafael
28 August 2010
When Grandma Died
The plants were coming back to life outside, in the Wisconsin springtime, when Grandma Johnson died. I was at college, the end of my first year, but still in the same time zone, just on the other edge of Minnesota from her.
It was Uncle Fred who found her. He was my Mom’s uncle, Grandma’s brother-in-law. He stopped by to say hello. Grandma lived alone then, since Grandpa died a few years earlier.
It was her heart. She’d been taking her nitro pills for awhile for her angina. I’d wondered if those little pills she kept in a little metal tube would explode like dynamite, since I knew nitroglycerine was an explosive. She also gave up her room upstairs, sleeping in the corner of the living room. The stairs were too much for her.
He found her in her living room chair, with the TV still on. So many times we’d sat there together, munching green grapes or some popcorn, while watching “Jeopardy” or “the Walt Disney show”. I wonder still what the last show was that she had seen.
We’d also sat there quietly reading for hours at a time, indulging our bookworm tendencies with glee.
I don’t remember the last time I saw her alive. But I remember the last time I didn’t go see her. At Easter that year I stayed on campus instead of going home for break and I would have seen her then. Looking back, there are many reasons I wish I had gone home instead and seen her.
Her funeral was at the First Lutheran Church of Falun, which I had frequented when I stayed with her those many summers , school breaks and weekends of my life. It looked just like you’d imagine a small town church would look like from the movies. I still can picture the larger than life painting of Jesus, suspended in front, behind the altar. He was standing in a blue sky heaven, clouds billowing around him. His arms were opening to the sides, as though beckoning me closer for a hug.
Grandma’s body lay in the coffin, below Jesus. I didn’t approach, although everyone else seemed to. Finally Dad cornered me. “Aren’t you going to go say goodbye to your Grandma?”
“No Dad. That’s not her, just her body. She’s not here anymore. I want to remember her alive, not dead.”
“Well, just don’t say that to anyone one else around here.”
And I do remember her, almost forty years later. She still lives in me and my reading, my playing solitaire, my caring for plants, and my eating green grapes and popcorn, watching TV.
-Terra Rafael
It was Uncle Fred who found her. He was my Mom’s uncle, Grandma’s brother-in-law. He stopped by to say hello. Grandma lived alone then, since Grandpa died a few years earlier.
It was her heart. She’d been taking her nitro pills for awhile for her angina. I’d wondered if those little pills she kept in a little metal tube would explode like dynamite, since I knew nitroglycerine was an explosive. She also gave up her room upstairs, sleeping in the corner of the living room. The stairs were too much for her.
He found her in her living room chair, with the TV still on. So many times we’d sat there together, munching green grapes or some popcorn, while watching “Jeopardy” or “the Walt Disney show”. I wonder still what the last show was that she had seen.
We’d also sat there quietly reading for hours at a time, indulging our bookworm tendencies with glee.
I don’t remember the last time I saw her alive. But I remember the last time I didn’t go see her. At Easter that year I stayed on campus instead of going home for break and I would have seen her then. Looking back, there are many reasons I wish I had gone home instead and seen her.
Her funeral was at the First Lutheran Church of Falun, which I had frequented when I stayed with her those many summers , school breaks and weekends of my life. It looked just like you’d imagine a small town church would look like from the movies. I still can picture the larger than life painting of Jesus, suspended in front, behind the altar. He was standing in a blue sky heaven, clouds billowing around him. His arms were opening to the sides, as though beckoning me closer for a hug.
Grandma’s body lay in the coffin, below Jesus. I didn’t approach, although everyone else seemed to. Finally Dad cornered me. “Aren’t you going to go say goodbye to your Grandma?”
“No Dad. That’s not her, just her body. She’s not here anymore. I want to remember her alive, not dead.”
“Well, just don’t say that to anyone one else around here.”
And I do remember her, almost forty years later. She still lives in me and my reading, my playing solitaire, my caring for plants, and my eating green grapes and popcorn, watching TV.
-Terra Rafael
22 July 2010
Poem- I Praise the Blood that flows from Women's Wombs!
I Praise the Blood that flows from Women’s Wombs!
The Blood of the Mother, shed for you.
Moonly rivulets in every country, tribe & village-
Food of creativity, fertilizing Mother Earth.
The first bed & breakfast of each human soul.
Yes-You Too , when allowed entrance there,
ate your way into the soft landing of Incarnation.
Here, secreted away
the magic of cells multiplied & differentiated,
safely humming the notes of your DNA in the key of your karma.
From Her Blood you created your own land-locked ocean,
tethered to Her life support, corded from your guts.
Moons & dreams later, came the high tide of labor,
when you surfed the powerful waves of Mother Muscles
and finally touched down on Earth’s shore
dragging your placenta behind.
But here you could breathe and your underwater life support, abandoned
let loose with Birth Blood
stored up for you, these many months,
until womb wisdom hugged still needed Life inside your Mother
so she could make milk to feed your eager suck,
with Blood made white by the glow of Her Cell Deep Love.
--by Terra Rafael
The Blood of the Mother, shed for you.
Moonly rivulets in every country, tribe & village-
Food of creativity, fertilizing Mother Earth.
The first bed & breakfast of each human soul.
Yes-You Too , when allowed entrance there,
ate your way into the soft landing of Incarnation.
Here, secreted away
the magic of cells multiplied & differentiated,
safely humming the notes of your DNA in the key of your karma.
From Her Blood you created your own land-locked ocean,
tethered to Her life support, corded from your guts.
Moons & dreams later, came the high tide of labor,
when you surfed the powerful waves of Mother Muscles
and finally touched down on Earth’s shore
dragging your placenta behind.
But here you could breathe and your underwater life support, abandoned
let loose with Birth Blood
stored up for you, these many months,
until womb wisdom hugged still needed Life inside your Mother
so she could make milk to feed your eager suck,
with Blood made white by the glow of Her Cell Deep Love.
--by Terra Rafael
05 July 2010
Keeping Cool in the Summer
Summer heat can definitely throw us off balance —it can overdo our fire (Pitta) and, through dehydration from sweating, our dryness (Vata). We may also be exposed to air conditioning, which is both cooling and drying. Frequent changing back and forth between the heat and the coolness can also aggravate our Vata. To stay cool and moist we can take the help of some simple self care routines.
To keep Pitta calm-
-avoid exercising when it is hot—use early morning or evening time.
-spend time near water and walk in the moonlight
-eat lighter foods—perfect time for salads and fruit. Blueberries are very cooling! Monitor how much sour or spicy foods, which can heat your body.
-avoid being too ambitious—REST a bit more, hang out with friends & socialize more
-carry a spritzer with rose water or with sandalwood essential oil added to water in it—both cooling and refreshing to spray yourself with when you’re feeling too hot
-run cool water over your wrists for a quick cool down you can do anytime you visit the bathroom—or go to the creek and dangle your feet in it. At the end of the day a tepid bath can help draw excess heat out of your body.
-be sure to go to bed around 10 pm rather than go with the temptation to stay up late
-drink cooling drinks rather than alcohol or stimulants—cool hisbiscus tea, organic concord grape juice, cool mint , or raspberry tea--- you can even mix them all together with a squirt of rose water for a super cooling drink. Ps—don’t drink the super cooling drink with a meal—it might douse your digestive fire!
-use the cooling breath—shitali. Make a swamp-cooler out of your mouth at those moments you are especially feeling the heat (best done away from times of digestion) Curl your tongue—either into a tube (if you have the genetic ability to do that) or curl it up behind your gently closed teeth. Then inhale through your mouth, exhale through your nose. This will cool the air entering your body. (It will also dry your mouth, so be sure you are getting plenty to drink when you do this!)
-wear a hat in the sun to avoid getting ‘Hot Headed”, stay in the shade as much as possible.
-relax—laugh—be silly—goof off--socialize with friends-- instead of fueling your ambition to the max.
To keep Vata calm-
-if you have a choice, in a dry climate, a swamp cooler may work as well as an air conditioner, while adding moisture to the air as it cools. Portable ones are available.
-BE SURE TO DRINK PLENTY OF WATER & TEA – dehydration can make you more tired & groggy.
- be sure you get your healthy oils (EFAs) and have salad dressings on your salads. Moderate really cold foods in your diet—even though tempting in the heat—go for room temperature or just a LITTLE cooled. Avoid spicy foods—they are usually very drying as well as heating—they are used to make you sweat—so don’t overdo, especially if you are Vata.
-try keep a routine as much as possible—even though you might take a vacation. Eat & sleep as regularly as possible.
These are a few helps to weather the fun summer time weather—so that next fall you won’t be so out of balance that you must do pancha karma to balance before you end up with a flu!
If you’d like to experience Terra’s unique blend of Ayurveda, Maya uterine/abdominal therapy & healing, women’s health wisdom, Reiki, and flower essences, call her at 720.628.5015 or email wisewomanhood@gmail.com.
To keep Pitta calm-
-avoid exercising when it is hot—use early morning or evening time.
-spend time near water and walk in the moonlight
-eat lighter foods—perfect time for salads and fruit. Blueberries are very cooling! Monitor how much sour or spicy foods, which can heat your body.
-avoid being too ambitious—REST a bit more, hang out with friends & socialize more
-carry a spritzer with rose water or with sandalwood essential oil added to water in it—both cooling and refreshing to spray yourself with when you’re feeling too hot
-run cool water over your wrists for a quick cool down you can do anytime you visit the bathroom—or go to the creek and dangle your feet in it. At the end of the day a tepid bath can help draw excess heat out of your body.
-be sure to go to bed around 10 pm rather than go with the temptation to stay up late
-drink cooling drinks rather than alcohol or stimulants—cool hisbiscus tea, organic concord grape juice, cool mint , or raspberry tea--- you can even mix them all together with a squirt of rose water for a super cooling drink. Ps—don’t drink the super cooling drink with a meal—it might douse your digestive fire!
-use the cooling breath—shitali. Make a swamp-cooler out of your mouth at those moments you are especially feeling the heat (best done away from times of digestion) Curl your tongue—either into a tube (if you have the genetic ability to do that) or curl it up behind your gently closed teeth. Then inhale through your mouth, exhale through your nose. This will cool the air entering your body. (It will also dry your mouth, so be sure you are getting plenty to drink when you do this!)
-wear a hat in the sun to avoid getting ‘Hot Headed”, stay in the shade as much as possible.
-relax—laugh—be silly—goof off--socialize with friends-- instead of fueling your ambition to the max.
To keep Vata calm-
-if you have a choice, in a dry climate, a swamp cooler may work as well as an air conditioner, while adding moisture to the air as it cools. Portable ones are available.
-BE SURE TO DRINK PLENTY OF WATER & TEA – dehydration can make you more tired & groggy.
- be sure you get your healthy oils (EFAs) and have salad dressings on your salads. Moderate really cold foods in your diet—even though tempting in the heat—go for room temperature or just a LITTLE cooled. Avoid spicy foods—they are usually very drying as well as heating—they are used to make you sweat—so don’t overdo, especially if you are Vata.
-try keep a routine as much as possible—even though you might take a vacation. Eat & sleep as regularly as possible.
These are a few helps to weather the fun summer time weather—so that next fall you won’t be so out of balance that you must do pancha karma to balance before you end up with a flu!
If you’d like to experience Terra’s unique blend of Ayurveda, Maya uterine/abdominal therapy & healing, women’s health wisdom, Reiki, and flower essences, call her at 720.628.5015 or email wisewomanhood@gmail.com.
11 June 2010
10 & 11 June 1980 - Julien's Birthday
On this bright summer day my baby belly was full and ripe for labor. My due date was about 10 days away but just a couple days ago an unexplained rash appeared all over my skin and the nurse told me, ”Hormones changing will sometimes do that before labor will begin.”
prenatal countdown
precious parasite-
once a fish, you swam & grew on the waters of my ocean.
now you are a creature more akin to astronaut,
weightless in my space,
tethered to me, the Mothership
not yet having walked on Earth or Moon
(what do you dream?)
soon you will be forced
to mold your head
to escape a tight situation
& we both will be forced
to mold our minds
to form a new RelationShip
(what do I dream?)
That evening Gilles came home early from work. He’d been fired again. My heart sank all the way down to my womb as he told me his story. As usual he felt it wasn’t his fault. Sometimes his dark Mediterranean skin and thick French accent triggered a racist response in bosses. But he also had a hot temper, which, when mixed with the hot, tense atmosphere of a restaurant kitchen, could make for a volatile recipe.
He called up friends from his current punk rock band named “F*ck the World”. They came over to drink beer, smoke pot and complain. I quietly sat in the corner, wondering how we would survive. I wasn’t working and was about to have a baby. Now we had no income again. The only savings we had was a modest gift from my parents in case we had to go to the hospital with a problem during the birth.
Finally his buddies left. Gilles had the munchies, so we walked a few blocks to the 7-11 to buy chocolate chips for cookies. As we strolled home, the warm summer night was outlined in rainbows. “Gilles! I think I might be going into labor! In Spiritual Midwifery they said that sometimes the beginning of labor can be like tripping on acid.!”
“No- eet can’t be. Eeet eesn’t your due date yet.” Apparently he hadn’t paid attention to that part of our childbirth classes. I knew that labor wasn’t like an appointment you set up on your due date.
By the time we’d gotten home and put the first batch of cookies in the oven I was feeling menstrual-like cramps. I took a warm bath – that helps menstrual cramps go away often times. Maybe it was false labor and would stop and let me sleep. We went to bed and Gilles passed out quickly but the cramps were obviously coming and going more strongly now.
I quietly tried to relax. Is this it? There’s another one. More baths. I let Gilles sleep until about 4 am and we called our five member midwife team to come over about six. Our friends Jay and Stephanie came too. Jay brought his camera and rolls of film.
Our small 10 x 12 bedroom was lined with faces. The mattress was in the middle of the room and everywhere I looked someone was breathing with me; massaging me; sending me love and support. The Fort Collins midwifery study group, who were also my friends and caregivers, were there to midwife me. At one point everyone chanted “AUM” together. It was very peaceful, though crowded. We were focused.
The baby was positioned posterior, with back to my belly, so I changed positions frequently to help the labor progress. I squatted. I was on my side; on hands and knees; on the toilet. I took more baths. At one point a foreign tabby cat wandered into our apartment, blessed us as it scanned the tableau, and then wandered back out.
Contractions were stretching me open. I surrendered as best I could, like when doing a yoga stretch- by breathing and relaxing to let go. It felt like I was outside of myself, watching.
The contractions had crescendoed in frequency and intensity. My waters broke as the dilation of the cervix approached its fullness. There was small amount of meconium, which can be sign of distress, although the baby’s heart beat was strong and regular. Finally I was completely dilated! Soon I began to feel an urge to push. I was so tired. I slept between contractions. This didn’t work well. Suddenly I’d be jarred awake when it came. Gilles was sitting behind me, supporting me.
The plan had been for Gilles to help catch the baby. But when the time came, it felt like my yoni was miles away from my head and heart. I needed him nearby me, behind me, supporting me. So he stayed there.
Finally, with effort, they told me that the head was showing. When the head came out I remember the unusual sensation of having a head at each end of my body. In the timeless space between contractions I inwardly joked to myself, “Two heads are better than one.” There was a cord around the neck and Bailey, who was catching, looped it over the head. She suctioned his nose in case there was sticky meconium there which could impede his nose or lungs. With that next contraction the babois exploded onto the scene.
It was a boy! As they laid him on my belly, he was a little floppy and bluish. His cord was the longest one ever—it was over a yard long, very thick and vital looking. They suctioned the mucus and any stray meconium from his nose and mouth right away and he breathed easily. It took a few minutes to get over the blueness, but his signs were all good. The cord had transformed by this time into a limp filament which we cut.
Julien, our sweet seed--
you sprouted & grew in my womb.
now you’ve come out,
kaleidescoping colors
ripening by air
blossoming lungs.
we cut you free
from your stem to me,
but you are not far,
a flower on my breast
my heart on my sleeve
fruit of love
& seed of yourself.
Gilles held him while I squatted to deliver the placenta. After that I laid back, feeling very powerful and satisfied. “If I can do that, I can do anything.” I’m a Birth Goddess.
Gilles handed him to me and Julien nursed well right from the start. I remember how everyone cleaned up and left the three of us lying there on that mattress in our little bedroom. What do we do now? I asked myself. Suddenly, a little human being depends on us for everything, all of the time.
--Terra Rafael
prenatal countdown
precious parasite-
once a fish, you swam & grew on the waters of my ocean.
now you are a creature more akin to astronaut,
weightless in my space,
tethered to me, the Mothership
not yet having walked on Earth or Moon
(what do you dream?)
soon you will be forced
to mold your head
to escape a tight situation
& we both will be forced
to mold our minds
to form a new RelationShip
(what do I dream?)
That evening Gilles came home early from work. He’d been fired again. My heart sank all the way down to my womb as he told me his story. As usual he felt it wasn’t his fault. Sometimes his dark Mediterranean skin and thick French accent triggered a racist response in bosses. But he also had a hot temper, which, when mixed with the hot, tense atmosphere of a restaurant kitchen, could make for a volatile recipe.
He called up friends from his current punk rock band named “F*ck the World”. They came over to drink beer, smoke pot and complain. I quietly sat in the corner, wondering how we would survive. I wasn’t working and was about to have a baby. Now we had no income again. The only savings we had was a modest gift from my parents in case we had to go to the hospital with a problem during the birth.
Finally his buddies left. Gilles had the munchies, so we walked a few blocks to the 7-11 to buy chocolate chips for cookies. As we strolled home, the warm summer night was outlined in rainbows. “Gilles! I think I might be going into labor! In Spiritual Midwifery they said that sometimes the beginning of labor can be like tripping on acid.!”
“No- eet can’t be. Eeet eesn’t your due date yet.” Apparently he hadn’t paid attention to that part of our childbirth classes. I knew that labor wasn’t like an appointment you set up on your due date.
By the time we’d gotten home and put the first batch of cookies in the oven I was feeling menstrual-like cramps. I took a warm bath – that helps menstrual cramps go away often times. Maybe it was false labor and would stop and let me sleep. We went to bed and Gilles passed out quickly but the cramps were obviously coming and going more strongly now.
I quietly tried to relax. Is this it? There’s another one. More baths. I let Gilles sleep until about 4 am and we called our five member midwife team to come over about six. Our friends Jay and Stephanie came too. Jay brought his camera and rolls of film.
Our small 10 x 12 bedroom was lined with faces. The mattress was in the middle of the room and everywhere I looked someone was breathing with me; massaging me; sending me love and support. The Fort Collins midwifery study group, who were also my friends and caregivers, were there to midwife me. At one point everyone chanted “AUM” together. It was very peaceful, though crowded. We were focused.
The baby was positioned posterior, with back to my belly, so I changed positions frequently to help the labor progress. I squatted. I was on my side; on hands and knees; on the toilet. I took more baths. At one point a foreign tabby cat wandered into our apartment, blessed us as it scanned the tableau, and then wandered back out.
Contractions were stretching me open. I surrendered as best I could, like when doing a yoga stretch- by breathing and relaxing to let go. It felt like I was outside of myself, watching.
The contractions had crescendoed in frequency and intensity. My waters broke as the dilation of the cervix approached its fullness. There was small amount of meconium, which can be sign of distress, although the baby’s heart beat was strong and regular. Finally I was completely dilated! Soon I began to feel an urge to push. I was so tired. I slept between contractions. This didn’t work well. Suddenly I’d be jarred awake when it came. Gilles was sitting behind me, supporting me.
The plan had been for Gilles to help catch the baby. But when the time came, it felt like my yoni was miles away from my head and heart. I needed him nearby me, behind me, supporting me. So he stayed there.
Finally, with effort, they told me that the head was showing. When the head came out I remember the unusual sensation of having a head at each end of my body. In the timeless space between contractions I inwardly joked to myself, “Two heads are better than one.” There was a cord around the neck and Bailey, who was catching, looped it over the head. She suctioned his nose in case there was sticky meconium there which could impede his nose or lungs. With that next contraction the babois exploded onto the scene.
It was a boy! As they laid him on my belly, he was a little floppy and bluish. His cord was the longest one ever—it was over a yard long, very thick and vital looking. They suctioned the mucus and any stray meconium from his nose and mouth right away and he breathed easily. It took a few minutes to get over the blueness, but his signs were all good. The cord had transformed by this time into a limp filament which we cut.
Julien, our sweet seed--
you sprouted & grew in my womb.
now you’ve come out,
kaleidescoping colors
ripening by air
blossoming lungs.
we cut you free
from your stem to me,
but you are not far,
a flower on my breast
my heart on my sleeve
fruit of love
& seed of yourself.
Gilles held him while I squatted to deliver the placenta. After that I laid back, feeling very powerful and satisfied. “If I can do that, I can do anything.” I’m a Birth Goddess.
Gilles handed him to me and Julien nursed well right from the start. I remember how everyone cleaned up and left the three of us lying there on that mattress in our little bedroom. What do we do now? I asked myself. Suddenly, a little human being depends on us for everything, all of the time.
--Terra Rafael
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