Hot In Herre





The One.  The Only. Bikram.



While in San Fran last year, I visited the Berkley Community Acupuncture clinic and decided to try out Bikram Yoga for the first time.

Bikram Yoga is a  type of yoga practice hailed by guru Bikram Choundhury.  Yes, he has franchised named after himself.  The 90-minute class is held in a 105 F degree room with bright lights and consists of 26 postures with 2 breathing exercises.  The first set of postures are held for one-minute and the 2nd are held for 30-seconds.

Repeat:  Bikram.  Berkley.

I somehow neglected to put the encompassing factors together: 

Hot-Enclosed room + Berkley = Burning Man 1999 x 100. 

My instructor kept praising my form and determination, albeit, in between Drill Sergent screams, "LOCK YOUR KNEES!"  I could tolerate the pungent body odor.  I was fascinated (impressed?) with the confidence of Bikram students, particularly in their lack of clothing which could even make a Brazilian blush. 

However, the thing I found most distracting was... Body hair.  I may be a feminist but this isn't Europe, ladies... We shave our pits in this country.

I'm back in California, in another hippie-esque town, Davis, and have decided to give Bikram another go. 

My second class didn't go too well.

I was greeted by an insincere receptionist (Receptionists are the first people clients see.  They should be friendly.  Not dipshits.) who ended every sentence as if it was a question, "Uh... The mats?  Yeah... They're like $1. You don't even know what you're in for?"  Thanks for the boost of confidence you cu--...

Actually, I should really begin with the fact that I only slept 3 hours the night before and was rudely awaken by a panic attack.  Yup, straight-up, heart-pounding, gasping-for-air, what-the-fuck panic attack.  Good morning, Sunshine!  

The evening before, I visited the Davis Community Acupuncture clinic and had a superb treatment.  I went in for discoloration in my skin and ended up getting treated for anxiety, panic and a deep sense of fear that I couldn't quite place where it was coming from.  I left with a clear-mind and a less tense trapezoid.  However, I also left very sensitive to the opened-environment.  

Despite having a good breakfast (I don't care what Bikram says... I think it's insane to do a major work-out at an intense heat on an empty stomach), drinking 2 liters of water, making my own "Gatorade"... I was not in the right state of mind for... Well... Militia Yoga.

Within 20-minutes, I started to feel claustrophobic and felt like I was on the verge of another panic attack.  I sat down and actually contemplated, Ya know, I could sit on my ass through the whole class and be totally OK with it. 

I left the class swearing I will never bitch about the cold again.  I did, however, feel like I cleared out a lot of toxins but my head still felt foggy, heavy, loud and noisy. 

I slept well that night (REALLY well.  The Goldilocks-&-the-3-Bears kinda deep sleep) and wanted to give hot yoga another chance.

The following day, I tried a mellow 75-minute hot Vinyasa class at another studio.  Again, greeted by another Yeah-I'm-SO-Much-Cooler-Than-You-Cause-I-Can-Contort-My-Body-And-Look-Absolutely-Ridiculous receptionist/owner.  Fortunately, my instructor was the marshmallow to my gooey S'mores on a crappy, wet camping weekend.



My fav pose: Shavasna aka "Dead Corpse"

The lights were dimmed, incensed was burning and music played softly in the background.  MUSIC!  Bikram studios don't play music or light inscense or dim the lights to a less excruciatingly blinding intensity.  I suddenly realized how important music is to my yoga practice.  Sure, I may practice yoga to the Wu-Tang Clan but whatever, I find Method Man's rough flows... Meditative. 

The instructor just came back from the Big Island where she learned a bit of Qi Gong and Tai Chi.  Qi Gong and Tai Chi are major in Chinese medicine and they're even more stressed upon at OCOM.  I haven't quiet studied it nor do I know the whole story behind them but every time I get the opportunity to practice them, I slowly have a better understanding of why these two will become more important to my life than anything else I will learn in terms of Chinese medicine.

Unlike Bikram, this mellow hot Vinyasa yoga is practiced in room at 99 to 102 F degrees and is flowing with sun salutations not the formatted 26 postures. 



Cupcakes after yoga in SoHo.



It was far more meditative - Just how I like my yoga. 

My crazy mind is racing constantly.  When I'm awake I can't stop thinking about school, work, friends, dates, the future, the past, the present.  My sleep is typically interrupted with vivid dreams of attending a Mexican wedding on Dia De La Murete with Neal Cassady who took too much acid and for some reason, his acid trip is affecting my vision.  My work-outs are just as intense.  I hate exercising so for the 30 to 60-minutes each day, I make it insane so I can spend the rest of the hours doing what I truly enjoy - Eating. 

I appreciate yoga because of its ability to quiet my mind.  The act of breathing while flowing through various postures help me tremendously in being present in the moment.  It's surprising on how quickly my mind shuts down and I'm no longer thinking; and instead, I'm feeling. 

Today, I went back to the same studio and tried a Bikram-styled yoga (Bikram's got some fantastic lawyers.  Yoga studios must be licensed and certified to teach "Bikram" in order to be a part of the franchise and use the name.  The loop-hole is that a studio can teach "Bikram" yoga without calling it Bikram.  Oh, snap!) called "Hot Hatha". 



Bikram 26 postures.

 Same deal:  Hot-ass room, 26 postures with 2 breathing exercises.  At this particular studio though, the lights were dimmed and my instructor was gentle. 

She allowed water breaks whenever we needed, we could sit down if we were on the verge of vomiting or blacking out and she modified a lot of the postures for beginners. 

Fantastic!

She still pushed us and forcefully told us to lock the knees but she did it with a gentle yet firm voice, like Glinda, The Good Witch. 

I don't know if it's cause I've been doing hot yoga back-to-back the last couple of days and I've actually gotten used to the heat or if little things like the lighting and instructor actually make a difference. 

Or, it could have been the fact that I went into class with a completely different mindset.

I didn't go in thinking, "Namaste.  May the light within me bow to the light within you.  I will dedicate this practice to my BFF whom I am grateful to have in my life." 

Nope, I went thinking, "Fool!  This yoga ain't meditating or relaxing!  Mutherfucka, you will lock those knees, charge each position with focus and determination!  This shit ain't for beginners.  This for athletes.  Pain is positive.  You will love it like you love your daddy and your mama!"

In some strange way, the direct and focused mindset I use to get through 30-minutes of boxing helped me push my body during hot yoga.  I'm a firm believer in mind over body.  Trekking 4 days in bloody Sapa, Vietnam with Chuck Taylors during rainy season proved that theory.  I also know what my body is fully capable of and I know my legs are strong. 

I've noticed Bikram is fantastic for muscle building in the lower part of the body.  The postures put heavy use of leg balancing and focus on a lot of random muscles like those in the feet, wrists and ankles which are typically looked-over.  Also, I can't deny it's also been fantastic for my whole back.  No other yoga puts such emphasis on releasing the tension of the entire spine.  I can actually feel each vertebrae.



My Yogi: Rodney Yee

 However, it does not nearly emphasize on the core and upper body as Vinyasa or Iyengar.  My cupcake-top, I mean core and upper body are my weak points and I love how Vinyasa and Iyengar re-shape my deltoids, abdomen, biceps and triceps.  These practices lean out the bulk and density I tend to gain from lifting weights. 


Yogi Iyengar



I'm willing to give Bikram another chance -- Back at the "real" studio.  I bought a 10-day pass so what the hell.  Before I adamantly preach something isn't for me, I want to make sure, triple make sure, I really, really, really hate it before I can truly say, Eh, this isn't for me... And lemme break it down for you on why it sucks...

There are a few things I'm not too sure of Bikram like the whole business model (Franchising?  Really?), the weird Cool-Kids attitude of Bikram students, the lack of gratitude within the practice, crazy fluorescent lights, silence and the fact that we never see the instructors practice.  I find that the strangest.  I'm supposed to listen (and trust) to some dude who hasn't even busted out one posture?  I don't know... That doesn't sit right with me.

But like I said, I'm gonna give it another go.... Because I bought the damn 10-day pass (Yo, I'm on a student budget so yes, I will repeat the fact that I bought a 10-day pass and milk it.)...  And... Because I want to see if it's something that I'm choosing because it doesn't resonate with how I want to practice yoga or if it's something I don't like because it's not familiar. 

Huge difference.  Mature-Grown-Ass-Woman difference. 

I will, however, not make the mistake of standing behind a dude because well... Y'all really do stink and not in that manly-cowboy-sorta way but like the 6-month-jock-strap kinda way AND you can't stop farting. 

Hustla



OCOM's new building.  Stoked about the move!


Put me on anything

Still I bet I bust

Put me anywhere on the map

I bet I bust

This is what I does

In Fall 2011, I will be attending the Oregon College of Oriental Medicine in Portland, Oregon as a graduate student.

BOO-YAH!


During my phone interview, the admissions officers asked if I had applied to any other schools.  I had contemplated about also applying to a "back-up" school (Five Branches in Santa Cruz, California) but at the last minute, I decided against it. 

Some may say, it was a pretty gutsy move.  Most would say, it was a dumbass move.

 



Tacos: the only food that smiles back at you.





I was pleasantly surprised with the campus at Five Branches.  Fish tacos.  Daily surf.  Cruisin' around town with my Vespa and my bulldog, Raka.  And of course, the yummy boys who have SoCal soul with NorCal brains. 

I envisioned studying points on the beach with mini surf breaks.  I dreamed of having my hair sun-streaked naturally by the sun and brown skin all-year-round.  Friends would come and visit because well... 'Cause I live in sunny California!  I would even consider making the ultimate cross-over from Biggie to ... Dare I say... Tupac. 

But at the end of the day, I felt like I was justifying Five Branches primarily on a superficial level.  I'm older and wiser now that I don't need to always go after shiny objects.

Most of my friends think I'll lose my mind moving to Portland.  They also thought I had lost my mind when I bought a one-way ticket to Hanoi, Vietnam. 

I've realized I make the best decisions in life when I lose my mind.

It has given me the tools to build a foundation to live a life with purpose.  It has allowed me to make the connection between my life experiences and my strong belief system.  It gives me the reason to confidently say, "No, really, I am cooler than your girlfriend."

Sure, I have my qualms about moving to the West Coast; specifically Portland.  Burma, strangely seemed far more familiar than Portland; but I have absolutely no qualms, questions, concerns about dedicating my life to medicine.

None, whatsoever.

It's the strangest feeling.  I've never felt so confident with the idea of possibility spending the rest of my entire life dedicated to one thing.  And I've got some severe commitment issues! 

My phone interview ended with a question I've been thinking alot about for the past year:
What do you hope to accomplish as an OM practitioner?

Without a beat, I relayed my belief in breaking down holistic health without the esoteric "stuff" while maintaining the integrity of the medicine.  I want my community to understand our health is one of the very few things every human is entitled to have despite race, gender, socio-economic status.  It needs to be a priority and it needs to be protected.  People need to understand the importance of taking accountability for their own wellness; to become experts in their health. 

We live in a society which heavily relies on so-called "experts" who have aquired fancy degrees and wear posh clothes.  I'm gonna get a fancy degree and I sure love to wear posh clothes.  But I don't want to become a practitioner who tells the patient what's wrong with him.  I want him, the one in pain, to tell me what's wrong. 

Education empowers individuals to become experts in health; my goal is to provide my community with the necessary tools to prioritize their wellness by utilizing a multifaceted approach to health.  I want my community to understand the importance of cultivating and protecting their health because without it, nothing is possible.

I don't have all the answers.  I still have loads of questions.  And in many ways, I hope to never have all the answers and always be in a constant state of learning by listening to the health stories of my patients.

With all that being said, I believe in holistic health care.  One that emphasizes on prevention and the use of the least invasive measures to treat diseases/disorders; simply because I am a product of it. 

So yes... Put me in Portland and I bet I bust.



Bullshit: An Approach to Modern Health




New Yorker. Unknown.

 Whether I like to admit it or not, at my core, I will always be a New Yorker. 

Live like a New Yorker - Unapologetic and brash.
Move like a New Yorker - A heavy, consistent beat.
Talk like a New Yorker - Always calling out bullshit.

A few months ago, someone called me, (Oh yea, you know I be using the quotes in this context) "... the coldest person." 

My first reaction was... Nothing. 



New Yorker. October 2009. William Haefeli.

 He was right... To a degree.  "Cold" is such a relative term and when it comes to patience, or lack thereof, I can see how an individual might call me, "cold".  I have a very limited amount of patience and it's something I am working on... To a degree.

I simply don't have the patience for bullshit.  There's a limit to it.  I'll keep my mouth shut, smile pretty and nod until I can't take it anymore and I end up going off.  Hand up in the air.  Neck jerking.  Earrings off.  I find my lack of patience interesting considering I want to dedicate my life to healing by providing an ancient form of medicine that requires a gigantic leap from everything I've been taught to believe was true. 

And yet, had it not have been for my own illness and TCM treatments, which not only changed my life but subsequently saved my life, I'd think all of this was one of the biggest bullshit I had ever heard.

I get it which is the reason why I consistently struggle to advocate it, particularly to my friends.  It frustrates the hell out of me to explain an authentic way of healing the body to someone who is used to swallowing a couple of pills and having the symptoms of the condition magically disappear.  No one wants to hear treating the root of an illness requires work.  Damn, hard work like finding triggers like work hours, lack of exercise or gee, um, general lack of meaning or purpose in your life.  And no one certainly wants to hear just because the symptoms went away, that doesn't necessarily mean you're "healed".  And forget about even suggesting the notion that every human body is unique and there's no "One-Size-Fits-All" for treatments. 

How do you explain the lower back pain is not... Well... Just a lower back pain? 

Health and wellness only becomes a priority when it is depleted.  I suppose, as a prospective health facilitator, the only thing I can do is to study, write up this damn blog, give out advice and wait patiently until my friends are damn serious of making their health a priority.  Awesome.

Last week, I was stuck in the elevator with my Anatomy and Physiology professor who I have claimed as a full-on genius.  He clones stuff...  For fun.  Genius.  He's a geneticist and to say the least, it doesn't get any more "Science" than that.  He lives and breathes Science.  Everything in his professional and personal life can be reduced to logical Science.  I'm convinced he could justify his marriage in a scientific manner that is purely based on evolution.  He is, in essence, a no bullshitter.  So, imagine my surprise, during our impromptu discussion on healing, my A&P professor/bio-tech engineer, agreed that the "... Western approach to healing is totally fucked-up."  Oh, snap!  Yeah, that's also a direct quote. 

Many people choose TCM as a "last resort" which kinda sounds insane to me the more I study the human body.  I'm gonna go and get that surgery... Open up my body to a host of infections... Stick foreign objects inside of me... Take some medications to further add resistance to homeostasis... And if that doesn't work... Well... I guess I'll consider a "natural" form of treatment. 

I find this paradox fascinating.  Wouldn't it make sense to try everything under the sun, that is the least invasive, on the body before resorting to something that will alleviate the symptoms which may treat the disorder but not without adding side-effects that will undeniably lead to another imbalance?  And this is where my patience is truly tested.

I'm convinced when health issues are merely a nuisance - Meaning, we can still get up, go to work and whatnot - Than it is not a priority.  It's only when it stops us from Life that we start to take it seriously; and when every pill, surgery, radiation fails, do we even consider a complementary or "alternative" form of treatment. 

New Yorker September 19, 2008

 I'm nearly finished with my grad school applications and I've realized, the reason why I'm so cuckoo for holistic health-care is because I've recognized the history of bullshit Western medicine has been feeding, "for the people".  Without sounding like a conspiracy-theory nutcase, if a disease is "cured" then there's no money to be made. 

I'm not Anti-General Practitioner. 

I'm Anti-Pharm.

My belief remains strong.  Western medicine is amazing when it comes to trauma.  If I ever get a gun-shot wound, I want my EMT to drive me to the nearest hospital and have the cockiest surgeon stitch me up.  If we ever get this stem-cell research off the ground -- I can also say, Western medicine is spot-on in terms of gene therapy.  However, for preventative care, it astounds me why one would use unnatural treatments to prevent diseases the human body is incapable of producing under ideal, healthy settings. 

Answer:  Because it takes a helluva amount of strength to take a hard look at our lives and make conscious lifestyle changes that we have been emotionally connected to for so long.  We make health decisions not because they can be logically explained to us but because we can emotionally connect to them.

Most diseases don't suddenly appear.  They are manifestations of years of neglect which often takes more than a couple weeks to heal; and then takes years to prevent it from ever happening again. 

It's a huge mental click to view and use medicine for a long-term effect... As in for the rest of our lives... Rather than a temporary relief band-aid in order to alleviate the pain. 

Fiber or Why I Prefer Brazilian Bikinis



Private beach during my Oahu stay.



                        Summer's creepin'!

Now that I'm using my knowledge of chemistry towards biology, it's pretty dope figuring out why certain foods are healthy and how it all works.  I think if more people started to understand what happens to food as it metabolizes, then maybe we could get more of a handle on a lot of issues we have with food.  This is hard for me to admit because I have a deep emotional connection to food -- I am a genuine Foodie. 

At the same time, I really do love wearing my ridiculously expensive but oh-so-flattering Brazilian bikinis. 

As if I needed more - I'm obsessed with Arcacia



High-Fiber and Low-Carbohydrate is a diet shift I often use as I prepare for summer.  I'm not one of those nutcases who exclude all carbs but I am cuckoo about the type of carbohydrates I eat (complex-carbohydrates) and at what time in the day I eat them (Eat like a King for breakfast and eat like a Pauper for dinner).  

The reason why High-Fiber/Low-Carb diets work is because fiber makes us feel full without the calories.  

Cellulose is a type of dietary fiber and a complex carbohydrate or as nerds like to call it, a polysaccharides polymer of glucose.  Imagine glucose as a single car of a train and cellulose as the entire train.  Cellulose is found in the walls of plant.  We don't make it nor do we have the enzymes to digest it. 



So how does something that is indigestible be healthy?

Fat molecule sticking to Fiber

During metabolizing, fiber acts like magnetic Velcro for sticky fat (cholesterol) and carbohydrates molecules.  Imagine fiber molecules floating throughout the body and attracting as many sticky molecules before they're absorbed into the the tissues of vital organs.  Since we're unable to digest fiber, it just bulks up as it passes through our GI tract (with all the sticky "bad" molecules) from the stomach to the small intestine to the large intestine to... Well, you get the idea.



The major health benefit aside from slimming down is the increased residual time (the amount it takes to pass through the GI tract) which prevents all those bad molecules from sticking around in the large intestine and decreases the risks of colon cancer - a nasty, nasty disease.

The one major thing to note: Since I've increased my fiber -- I've also been incredibly dehydrated which I attribute to the fact fiber soaks up a lot of water in the body.  Just remember to drink LOADS of water.  This past week we've had gorgeous weather and I found myself eating loads of salads and getting super dehydrated.  I cut out the coffee, drank loads of water and started drinking mums tea.  Seriously, cotton-mouth.

Gado Gado

Dietary fiber can be found in plants - fruits, vegetables, grains and nuts.  Typically, people will turn to eating salads which I really do love eating during the summer but when I was traveling in Indonesia, I had the Indo equivalent to a garden salad called, Gado Gado. 

Below is my version of the Gado Gado.  When it comes to cooking, I rarely follow recipes.  My belief is you should get the "idea" of the meal then add or substitute whatever you feel like adding or taking out. 



Mangia Bene!

Gado Gado

Fiber - Blanched vegetables -  Whatever is in season, whatever you like (Fiber)

• Green beans
• Tomatoes

• Bean sprouts
• Shredded cabbage
• Cauliflower
• Broccoli
• Sliced carrots
• Corn

Protein - Mix & Match

• Grilled shrimp
• Tempeh
• Tofu (diced, fried)
• Boiled egg

Carbohydrate

• Potato (Red, Yukon or Purple - Boiled)

Dressing Serves 2

• 1/2 c Peanut butter
• 1/4 c Fresh lime juice
• 1/4 c Soy sauce
• Minced ginger
• Minced garlic
• 1 c Water

• Chili sauce like Sirracha

1. Add all the vegs, protein, carbs and arrange them in a huge salad bowl.
2. For the dressing, start with the peanut butter and drizzle the lime juice, soy sauce and water slowly to figure out the right consistency.  Traditionally, the sauce should have a similar consistency to a thick Ranch dressing.  Add more water to thin it out; add more peanut butter to thicken it.  (*Peanut sauce is also great as a marinade)
3. Eat at room temperature.



Last Night

Like every New Yorker, 9/11 changed my life.  The day before, I had visited the Towers to meet up with my boyfriend at the time to go out to lunch.  I had no idea that would be the last time I would ever see it again.

I remember the day like it was yesterday.  I guess it's true what they say about tragedy.  It's tattooed into your mind.  It was gorgeous, sunny and an unusually warm day for September.  I was living in Park Slope at the time -- The wind from downtown Manhattan directly hits Park Slope in the morning.  The screaming neighbors and the smoke in the air woke me up to an excruciating pain on my left abdomen. 

The phone rang and it was my roommate's father asking if I was alright.  Non-chalantly, I told him I was fine which must have sounded weird to him because he told me to turn on the TV. 

My landlord from upstairs came banging on my apartment door, "Fill all your containers with water!  Fill up your bathtub!"  I felt my knees give out and all I could think about was my boyfriend who worked across the street from the Towers, his brother who worked in the same office, friends who worked on the same floor and my best friend who lived just blocks away. 

I rang my best friend first who like a total consummate New Yorker didn't let a plane crashing into a building stop her from making it to her early morning meeting uptown.  Unreal.  I couldn't get through to my boyfriend so I rang up his roommate.

"Holy shit, you're -- First one to get through...  I've ---  Tryin' to call my mo-.  They told us to go back--.  We ----- And ran downstairs.  -- Like smoke everywhere and then the plane.  Everyone started screamin'.  We all started --  -- Went back.  He said he was gonna help people.  I lost him.  I'm so sorry, honey.  I'm sure he's fine."

I'm nearly finished with my grad school applications.  Working on the personal statements required me to look back in hindsight in order to verbalize my journey towards medicine.

I've always said, it was in 2007 when I woke up paralyzed from my waist down, which was the catalyst that led me to travel that subsequently changed my life drastically.  But there were seeds that led to building of my  fiery catalyst.

As I look back, I can't deny 9/11 was the first seed that made me want to reconsider things in my life. 

I vividly remember working at a bar in the Village, taking whiskey shots, watching the election, chatting up friends, opening up a Corona for a different boyfriend and arrogantly convinced Gore will take it.  The disbelief of Bush's 2nd term punched me with a sense of hopelessness which became my second seed. 

All good things come in 3 and my third seed came disguised as I was waiting for a delayed flight to Flores with a surprise stopover to freakin' West Timor.  Delusional with a high fever, body ache and sore throat -- Sick of Indonesia.  Tired of South East Asia.  Impatient with foreigners.  I looked over the shoulder of a boy checking the news on the computer and saw the face of my new President.  I ran around the airport, screaming like a total maniac, "I can go home!"   

It's all a journey with little seeds planted one-by-one. 

Just as I remember 9/11, I remember 9/12 even more.  There was a heavy emotion of feeling lost.  New Yorkers never feel "lost".  In the midst of this unusual sentiment, I suddenly felt a sense of community. 

It's this sense of community that makes me want to study medicine in order to provide healing for my people despite their race, religion and socio-economic background. 

Back in Bali, I had told an Australian I was from the States.  Without a beat, he said, "Your country deserved 9/11.  You have too much blood on your hands." 

By then I had gotten used to the Anti-American attitude from so many people.  All the while, having blatant ignorance and racism spat in my face for not only being an American but being an Asian-American. 

Having people completely ignore me or treat me with such disdain because of the way I looked was something I had never experienced before.  Despite it all, I could always go back to the fact that as much as I may have struggled with Home, there was no way in hell my immigrant parents could have received the opportunities they did to raise me, a woman of color, with the notion that my gender, race or ethnicity could ever suppress my dreams.   

Unlike so many other travelers who make the connection of service and purpose, I knew I had to come back home to serve. 

It's a strange thing to celebrate death but I think we celebrate because it's symbolic.  It represents a sense of community -- Something that outshines a certified copy of a birth certificate from Honolulu.