The Healing
Page 28
“Man, what a gift that you get to share this work with little kids,” she beamed. Her words warmed my heart and made me feel lifted and encouraged again.
* * *
It’s August 2012. Monday mornings, I wake up, usually without an alarm, between 4:30 and 5:00. I prepare my tea and heat up my steel-cut oats or some other whole-grain cereal. I put the tea in a drinking thermos and the grains in a different wide-mouth thermos for food. I load up my backpack with my computer and my nutrition lesson plans for the day. I head off to the grocery store at 5:45 a.m. and shop for the food I will need.
I grab a cart and fill it up with colorful fresh fruits and vegetables. Next, I put one or two whole grain products and some organic yogurt in the cart. Then I unload the food onto the conveyor belt. The cashier, Mike, is usually there, with a nice 6:20 a.m. greeting. “Good morning,” he says. “Glad you chose my checkout line.”
“Morning, Mike,” I say, smiling and on the verge of laughter. It has been about eleven years now that he and I have followed this routine. It never seems to get old. He begins to ring up my items, and without fail he says something like, “If people shopped like you, they wouldn’t be so overweight. Yep. They would look like you. You’re in great shape. Why don’t people shop like you?”
I tell him that people do their best, and that it’s hard to change habits.
I give him a knowing wink.
“Go’on girl. Teach those kids. I hope they know how lucky they are to have you do this work. I didn’t have a nutrition teacher when I was in elementary school.”
“None of us did.”
I pay him and grab my two strategically weighted bags.
I leave the supermarket, cross the street, and stand at the Church and Market Muni station. I wait for the J Church trolley. It reminds me of Mr. Rogers’ trolley, bell and all, going into the Land of Make Believe. I am happy, even though it’s very early. It feels like I am in the Land of Make Believe.
I get on the J train and take an open seat. Hardly anyone is on board, so I spread out. The ride is about twenty minutes long, so I do TM, Transcendental Meditation. It’s a great way to start the day.
I arrive at school and review my lesson plans while having my oats and tea. I prep the fruits and vegetables for the day. At around 9:00 a.m., I teach my first class. It goes something like this:
I enter the classroom and say, “Raise both your hands if you have washed them.”
Hands go up.
“If you want to learn something new today, stand up straight, keeping your clean hands in the air.”
Smiles appear on kids’ faces, and they all get up with their arms in the air.
“If you are ready to start the lesson, please have a seat.” They all sit down and are eager to begin the food lesson.
“Last week, we made tomato salsa to eat with blue corn chips. This week we are going to make pear jicama salsa on a Romaine lettuce leaf. At the end, we’ll do a Venn diagram to compare these snacks.” For homework, I ask them to use the list of words in the Venn diagram to write a page with three paragraphs, comparing and contrasting two salsas.
Each student gets their ingredients, we review knife skills, and then we all start chopping. All the students are engaged.
We make the salsa. Then I explain the extra-credit homework, “Let’s brainstorm about what other fruits or vegetables we could use to make a different kind of salsa. Ask your parents if you can make a fruit salsa as one of the sides for dinner. Tell them it’s a homework assignment from Ms. Saeeda. Take pictures, if you can, of yourself making the dish and your family enjoying it.”
At the end of the day, I prep for the next day.
When I leave school I get on another trolley and, like I did on the 71A Negley bus in Pittsburgh, I sometimes cry. I cry about the state of some of my SFUSD low-income families. I cry about the obesity epidemic in this country. I cry because, even though I love my work, it’s strange that this work is so necessary for the growth and health of an entire nation. Even though I’ve made peace with my family members, I often cry regarding the struggles they still face. I worry about them all deeply, and wonder if they are finding their own unique ways to heal from our multi-generational suffering. A part of me wishes we were all closer to each other and healthier, but I accept that we all must live life in our own way and at our own pace, authentically.
But mostly, I cry tears of joy. I live in a city that I love more and more each day. I have work that fulfills me. It’s not an easy job, but it’s a dream job. Each time I step on the yoga mat or step into a classroom, which I get to do almost every day, I know that I am on my authentic path. I have very little drama in my life. My heart appreciates all the people around me who cheer me on. And the people that I get to cheer for, too.
I still chuckle that I get paid to teach yoga, holistic nutrition, and cooking to kids and adults. I don’t make the salary of a banker, but I do make a living, and it’s a life that I get to share with others.
For twenty years now, I’ve been able to share with my students my passion for food and yoga and the healing that has been released within me. It’s not the beginning of the end of my healing, but it’s the end of the beginning. I’ve healed enough to have the will, the energy, and the determination to help others and the ability to replenish myself so I can do it more consistently. And now, when I pull the cord and hear the stop-requested bell, I’m no longer primed for a fight against my deep childhood trauma. Now it’s time for me to help someone else. Ding. Ding. Gotta go! Someone needs me.
Epilogue
BEFORE COMPLETING THE FIRST DRAFT of this book, I sent relevant chapters to my family members as a courtesy, starting with my mom and dad. When I told my friends of this, they were surprised. But I felt that I could not finish this work unless they knew what I was about to do. I prepared myself for their anger, denial, and accusations.
Instead they validated me. My dad got on the phone and stated, “Well, ever since I got into that bar business I became a man that I didn’t want to be.” I was shocked and could feel my heart mending. I didn’t have high expectations of creating a close father/daughter relationship, but to have my father say that with such rooted sorrow meant the world to me.
My mother, clearing her throat so as not to stutter, said, “Well, it all happened. I see this book helping other women who find themselves in similar situations….I did my best and I am sorry.” Her words soothed my soul and fueled my desire to get this book out to others who might benefit from hearing my story. It was comforting to have my mom this time not call me crazy or say that I was the one who needed the help.
My older brother’s response was incredibly supportive. I didn’t expect that, since he often goes in and out of addiction. I thought he might be mad and jealous. But instead he said, “Sy, be as raw as you can be. Tell the story from a real place. Readers want you to be real. Don’t hold back.” Then he said in a kind and encouraging way, “How did you become the writer? I was supposed to be the writer.” He paused. “Do it. Tell the story.”
I will never forget my younger brother’s response: “Sy, mom and dad need to know what happened to us. What they put us through.” Then he went into reminding me of things that I had forgotten. He told me things that had happened to him that I hadn’t known about at all. I listened intently. Then, he asked me, “Do you think a damaged soul like mine can heal?”
I told him, “Of course; keep showing up and doing the work. We can all heal.” Then I reminded him of a quote that we both liked from Spike Lee’s movie Malcolm X: “If you take one step towards Allah, He will take two steps towards you.”
My niece could not get past the first few chapters. She cried, saying, “Aunt Sy, it is just too depressing.” I understood that she might not be ready to absorb the past just yet, but in time, she and her daughter might want to know our family history when they are ready.
My auntie sa
id that she was happy that I found a way to heal from the past. She was right. I have healed from the past and I have found a vibration of happiness that pulsates through my mind, body, and spirit like no other feeling I have known before. I know that healing is organic, dynamic; each injury has its own healing path.
Rahima, my sister, seems to be protecting herself from our family pain by keeping a healthy distance from us all. I don’t blame her. We are here for her when she wants to reconnect. I admire and respect her for all that she has endured and hope that her heart is beginning to know some peace.
My mentor and I recently saw each other after not having been in contact for many years. Gia and I spoke and she said that when she saw me after all these years that she just wanted to give me a big hug. I told her that I had been visualizing this moment for years. We got teary-eyed as we hugged.
As I continue to interact fully with this world, I will always consider myself in a stage of bringing healing to something or someone or just myself in the present and in the future, and hopefully without causing additional harm. Ahimsa!
YIN AND YANG FOOD CHART
Everything in the universe can be described as having a dominant characteristic of yin or yang energy. We reach for foods that help us restore balance. In this context, energetically speaking, when you are feeling very yang, contracted and tight, scared or anxious, drugs and alcohol can be appealing. With holistic nutrition, by eating foods from the center of the chart, you can restore your centeredness without swinging to extremes.
YIN AND YANG PRINCIPLES APPLIED TO MY LIFE
I noticed that most of my life experiences could be placed on the yin-yang energy chart. I learned that when I over-committed myself I felt irritated and craved sugar. This knowledge didn’t always prevent me from bad choices, but it did help me deal with them.
HEALING
RECIPES
Soft Barley Porridge
½ cup of barley, cooked, per person
½ cup filtered water, per person
½ cup raisins per person
1 tablespoon toasted nuts or seeds, pumpkin or sunflower.
1. Simmer raisins in equal parts cooked barley and filtered water for 15–20 minutes.
2. Serve hot with toasted seeds.
Steel Cut Oats
1 cup steel cut oats
5 cups of filtered water
Toppings
1. Rinse oats.
2. Heat pot.
3. Lightly toast oats.
4. Add water.
5. Simmer on low heat for 60–90 minutes or until the oats are the preferred consistency.
6. Add toasted nuts or seeds, fresh fruit slices and dried fruits and/or 1 tablespoon of maple syrup. Or follow simpler directions on the packet.
Raw Veggie Press Salad
This makes the salad veggies more digestible while keeping the live enzymes ready to be a natural probiotic.
½ cup green cabbage, shredded
½ cup red cabbage, shredded
1 medium carrot, julienne
1 celery stalk, sliced thinly on the diagonal
½ small red onion, minced
½ teaspoon of sea salt
1 tablespoon of brown rice vinegar
1. Prepare each vegetable.
2. Place in a glass bowl, then toss.
3. Sprinkle salt and vinegar over veggies.
4. Press in a pickle press for an hour or do the following:
Put a plate that fits directly on top of the veggies in the bowl, then put a heavy weight on top of the plate so the veggies can begin to process as a natural probiotic.
Black Bean Stew
1-inch piece of kombu
1 small onion, diced
1 carrot, diced
1 cup dry black beans
2 cups filtered water
Sea salt to taste
1. Rinse and soak beans overnight with a 1-inch piece of kombu (to reduce the cooking time, use canned beans which don’t require soaking).
2. Put black beans in a pot with diced onions and carrots and water.
3. Bring to a boil.
4. Then simmer for 1–1½ hours; stir periodically.
The more you simmer the creamier the beans. (If using canned beans, simmer for 30–60 minutes).
5. At the end, you can add sea salt to taste. Serve over rice or any grain.
Note: This recipe is intentionally long and slow cooking, this is the kind of energy you want for winter; long and slow so you can endure the bitter cold.
Basic Winter Vegetable Soup
2 tablespoons safflower oil
1 large onion, diced
1 celery stalk, diced
1 large carrots, sliced half-moons, medium thin
1 turnip, medium chunks
1 parnip, medium chunks
½ cup dry white or navy beans, soaked over night or canned
4–5 cups filtered water or vegetable broth
1–1½ tablespoons barley miso or ½ teaspoon sea salt
½ teaspoon pumpkin oil—finish each bowl when serving (optional)
Scallions, sliced on the diagonal
1. Heat oil in stock/soup pot.
2. Add onion and celery, sauté for 3 minutes or until soft, but not brown.
3. Add carrots, turnips, and parsnips, and sauté for 3–5 minutes.
4. Add beans, drained.
5. Add water or broth and bring to a boil.
6. Turn down heat, cover pot and simmer for 45 minutes or until beans are soft.
7. Extract ½ cup hot soup broth from pot. Dilute 1 teaspoon miso, per serving bowl, into hot broth. (i.e., 4 bowls of soup = 4 teaspoons miso).
8. In each bowl, equally pour diluted miso liquid. This technique keeps the miso from boiling, thus saving the digestive cultures.
9. Serve hot, drizzle pumpkin oil on top of each soup bowl as a finishing garnish.
Note: Always add freshly diluted miso to soup just before eating it.
Mushroom Barley Soup
1 small onion, diced
1 celery stalk, diagonally cut
1 cup of button mushrooms, sliced
6 dried shiitake mushrooms, soaked and sliced (remove bottom stem)
1 tablespoon of olive oil or unrefined corn oil
½ cup barley
5 cups water
¼ cup shoyu (soy sauce)
scallion garnish (optional)
barley or alfalfa sprouts (optional)
1. In stockpot, heat oil, and sauté onion until translucent.
2. Add water (filtered) and barley.
3. Bring to boil over high heat, and then reduce to a low heat.
4. Add shiitake mushrooms, and simmer 40 minutes or until barley is soft. Cover pot. Stir occasionally. If the soup becomes too thick or sticks, lower flame and add ¼ cup water.
5. Add button mushrooms, celery, and shoyu; cover pot, and simmer for 10–15 minutes more.
6. Serve hot, and garnish with small amount of sprouts or scallions.
Collard Green Ribbons
2 bunches of collard greens, washed and center stems removed
3 garlic cloves minced
2 tablespoons tamari or shoyu
1–3 tablespoons olive oil
Black pepper to taste
1. Stack collards 4 leaves high, roll tight, and cut rounds very thin to make ribbons.
2. Heat skillet medium high and add olive oil.
3. Add garlic, sauté until very fragrant, but not brown.
4. Add collards, gentle separating the strands, stir gently.
5. Add tamari, stir, and cover for 5 minutes or until soft but not too
tender.
6. Add pepper and serve hot.
Creamy Black Beans with Garlic
1-inch piece of kombu
1 cup dry black beans
3 cloves of garlic
2 cups filtered water
Sea salt to taste
1. Rinse and soak beans overnight with a 1-inch piece of kombu (use canned beans to reduce the cooking time).
2. Put black beans in a pot with 3 cloves garlic and water
3. Bring to a boil.
4. Simmer for 1½—2 hours—the more you simmer the creamier the beans. (if using canned beans simmer for 30–60 minutes).
5. The beans will be nice and soft with a garlicky flavor.
6. At the end, you can add sea salt to taste.
Serve over rice or any grain.
Note: This recipe is intentionally long and slow cooking. This is the kind of energy you want for winter, long and slow so you can endure the bitter cold.
Steamed Kale
1 bunch of kale (curly or dino), chopped finely
½ lemon, juiced
Toasted sesame seeds
1. Wash kale, while looking for sand between the leaves.
2. Bring pot of water to a boil with metal steamer at the bottom.
3. Put in the kale.
4. Steam until kale turns bright green, not brown.
5. Squeeze juice from ½ a lemon on top.
6. Then sprinkle with toasted sesame seeds.
7. Serve hot.
Hiziki–Caviar Style
½ cup hiziki, soaked, then drained