It surely is time for spring: we are obliged to get out the galoshes and the umbrellas and paddle the streets between the drops to get the groceries, go to the bank or to the herb store.
I found out yesterday at the Beijing Trading store that their TCM was out on a conference where it seems he was in school again adding to his own knowedge and remembering his esteemed colleagues. I came back today with the last recipe he wrote for me and had my lady fill it again. He will be gone two weeks.
It is fascinating. The store is about 80 by 60 feet. It has been meticulously planned and built to contain a sizeable stock of plant materials which fill bottled and boxed packages, rows of drawers, shelves near to the ceiling, space for piles of boxes of deliveries of more healing elements. The space is scrupulously clean. The people who are there are themselves, expert in their trade. The place looks to be at least 40 years in that place. It is a charming part of a day to visit their store, work with the gentleman who is the TCM doctor who formulates a recipe of herbs which specifically address the symptoms and condition that my body expresses. Imagine how specifically personal to my body that is.
I trust this medicine. I have been known to kid some of the Western doctors who have expressed themselves rather arrogantly concerning this system of health. “Do you mean to tell me that this medicine which is 5000 years old, has treated several billions of people over this period, does not have a big enough sample for you?” I’ve seen a couple of these people shiver when I remind them. It is enough for me, it has been enough for my personal practice for 48 years, and now these few people, their knowledge and good will and my own personal work are changing the end game of my life. I can go with that!
It is quite a marvellous and unique experience to iterate what is happening in this almost 80 years experienced body, have the TCM take my wrist pulses and then write a strange hieroglyphic language in thin blue characters on the paper. The lady herself gathers and measures the herbs using an ancient weighing device to fill my order. The pile of strange sticks, and seeds, patties, peeled stems, dry flowers and assorted other bits of dried plant materials turn into an amazing brew. Three very lumpy packages come home with me to be boiled into medicine tea to drink. A package is dumped into a 6 quart steel pot with about 2 quarts of water and 3 slices of ginger ready to boil vigorously about 20 to 30 minutes, allowed to cool and then strained into a jug to be drunk at the rate of a cup of medicine every few hours.
I began my own natural health career at my 30th birthday in 1969 ready to build some health and well being into a body that had not worked properly from its birth. Now here I am again, after about 6 weeks in the welcoming oversight of the TCM, my neighborhood friends in their store, marking the passage of days to end 8 decades as my lungs and colon gently restore themselves using the specific nutrition from the herb formular. How sweet is that?
I am, in fact, healing my life and thankful for it. Simple and profound.
It’s a wet few days here. Outside dismal; inside feeling amazinglly well and stronger; motivated to exercise, get up earlier in the morning, and to write. Work in progress, as the world turns us from day to night and once again to day. And so the weekend itself is ending the day under a crystal
clear sky washed by rain rain rain these few days. My lady did not come to clean: hmmmm wonder what happened to her? The blog is now about up to date and I can take the next big thing in my command and get over DragonSpeak to write and then edit all of this. And there is a very challenging garden plot on the third floor to make pretty for all the people.
Have to admit it’s getting better, getting better all the time: 80 is the new 50: How about that for a new day?