Insights of a Senior Acupuncturist by Miriam Lee

The damp heat has been so heavy and thick that it has kept me inside a bit more the past fews days. During this second intense heat wave of the Summer, I have been staying cool and revisiting one of my favourite treasures. Miraim Lee, a legend in the Acupuncture and Chinese medicine world wrote a beautiful synopsis of treatment strategies and case studies in the book Insights of a Senior Acupuncturist. Published by Blue Poppy Press. 

This book has been with me for years and has called me many times when there is a little gem to be revealed. This week, I asked the book to extend a gift and I was guided  to page 100 and extracted a luminous pearl. 

"At any stage, Zu San Li (St 36), He Gu (LI 4), Qu Chi (LI 11), and Lie Que (Lu 7) will help calm the patient and restore balance to the internal organs so that the heart can again house the spirit."

With this extreme heat, the Heart, the Emperor is sometimes overwhelmed and harassed by extreme temperatures. It can feel heavy, shaky, overextended and feel as though it is energetically spinning out of its natural placement and express as being off center. As we are all navigating so many external changes and challenges, it is sometimes difficult to integrate the messaging of the immediate needs of the Heart. When this happens in my own world, I do my best to slow down and sometimes stop what I am doing and rest. Lie on the cool floor, place my legs up a wall, or find a space to be still. The more I can practice this process the more I try to hold the field for my patients in sessions.

As I read through the system that Miriam used in her practice, I just came across this sentiment...

"To prevent disease and establish vitality, both the acupuncturist and the patient must use the whole universe wisely." pg 36

And so we try. I could sit with this sentiment for hours, it is such a rich and layered proposition. 

I created this image with sunflowers, echinacea and a little peeper frog layered with a watercolour that I painted imagining the image as a metaphor for the medicine.  So many nuances of beauty and stillness gently intertwined with one another, layers of Summer colors over texture and elements.

Return of the Hummingbirds

In the blink of an eye, three ruby throated hummingbirds have appeared in the garden. Two males and one female. The quince flowers are in bloom, the tulips have opened, the daffodils are beginning to fade and the osprey are flying overhead with fish hanging from their talons. When the hummingbirds arrive, in my heart, it is officially Spring. Just today the leaves on many trees popped and the Japanese maple opened. The hummingbirds seem to be attracted to their colour and the delicate branches. 

Yesterday, I sat with my camera and took a series of images that captured the last afternoon light sparkling on the eyes of the male hummingbirds. This beauty used the tips of the persimmon tree branches to perch and guard the feeders. The fine tips of the new branches are always their favourite perching spots between feedings. The background colour in this hummingbird picture is the red of the Japanese maple leaves. The maple creates a stunning contrast to the emerald green of the male's feathers. 

I recently completed a class on painting hummingbirds that was offered by the New York Botanical Gardens. The class was taught by Dorie Petrochko. We explored the structure of hummingbirds, how to paint the feathers, add iridescent colours and relate the anatomy to the beak. It was surprisingly challenging because there are so many elements to pay attention to while conveying movement and form simultaneously. It was my first attempt at painting hummingbirds. With time, this skill will improve, and I will post my paintings. In the meanwhile, I sit and wait patiently while they re-acquaint themselves with the garden and establish their terrains. 

 

The Healing Presence of Hummingbirds

 I am delighted to participate in a conversation tomorrow night as a part of the Port Jefferson Documentary Series. The film celebrates the work of Terry Masear, a rather magical woman who takes care of injured hummingbirds. When I received a call from the organizers of the series, I knew immediately that I needed to attend and participate. My friends Patricia Paladines and Dr. Carl Safina will also be attending. I will be sharing some of my hummingbird images taken over the years.

I feel that there is a curious symbiosis between Terry's experiences and one of my own.

During my recovery from Lyme disease, I had the most extraordinary visitor here for over five months. A rufous hummingbird found her way into my garden and wintered over. Her presence was kept quiet, outside of a few friends, neighbours, and patients. I wanted to protect her from over exposure. She was fed warm nectar during the winter months, and survived every possible weather challenge. She ate ants and caught gnats in the air while constantly drinking from several feeders that were maintained to keep her alive.

When she arrived in the garden, I was so stunned and excited to have her here. It was as if the heavens had delivered a little angel that was assisting in my personal healing. Two weeks into her stay in the autumn of 2023, I remember feeling that I really needed her presence in my world and in my life. My immune system had been compromised by tick born infections and while I was undergoing treatment, I often felt confused, overwhelmed and disoriented by what was happening in my body. The process of navigating my situation often left me feeling lost. Her healing presence gave me a novel focus and distraction from the battles of my internal terrains. 

Over the course of her stay she remained close to the front door of my office in the shelter of a large Rhododendron tree. When the wind was howling from the Northeast and the cold temperatures plummeted, she sought refuge in boxwoods. All the while I was aware that this was a once in a lifetime experience. She stayed perched, facing the sun and welcoming my patients into my healing space. We all observed in wonder, awe and delight. During my most challenging days, I felt as though a guardian angel    had descended from the heavens and offered me divine support. 

During her winter stay, I took hundreds upon hundreds of pictures of her. In this Spring collage, I am including a little image of her with witch hazel, pear flowers, one of my watercolours, a shadow, and promises of colourful flowers. She offered me a ray of hope and feeling of new possibilities and healing. I believe that she also gave my patients a sense of being in the presence of a unique and rare gift. 

When I saw the film about Terry, I found it curious that she was helping injured hummingbirds heal in Los Angeles, while in my neck of the woods on the East End of Long Island, a single hummingbird was helping me and my patients heal. My private practice focuses on nervous system regulation and trauma work. We were tending to the trauma vortex but through different perspectives and portals.

We all debated how long she would stay in Springs and what she might do when the weather warmed and flowers bloomed. One day, I began to notice her gorget begin to turn copper. My feeling was that her departure was imminent. From everything that I read, this juvenile would seek her natural breeding ground and most likely return to the West Coast. One day, she did leave. I had the felt sense that she would fly away and leave because the air was warming and the sun feeling bright. While our time together was limited, she gave me so much and I am deeply grateful. I am most thankful for the opportunity to spend hours and hours alone with her and observe her behaviour. She taught me so much about rufous hummingbirds and about how to be with her in a respectful way. 

My hope is that the more Terry's work and story is shared, the more we can respect and take care of the environments that shelter, protect and support wildlife. Please join us in this beautiful exploration of the relationship between humans and hummingbirds. 

Thank you Kelly Devine and Barbara Sverd for including me in this lovely opportunity to be in the company of like minded people and good friends. 

For the Love of Botany

   I am back to the drawing board of botanical art and all of the detailed nuances of creating in this modality. It began with a strong handmade leather bound book of beautiful hot press paper. Each week I make entries, based on what I see in the garden, on my walks or from the ocean and bay beaches. It has been a serious and committed act of self care, ritual and discipline. I began the first week of March 2024. During a long and arduous battle with Lyme disease and co-infections of Babesia and Erlichiosis, my body has craved simple and kind goodness from every facet of life. In June, it will be two years since I have been fighting the good fight. My immune system went into shock and required care and deep rest. It has been a journey. As anyone who has experienced these diseases, parts of us go into what I describe as the underworld. We are held hostage by the immediate needs or our immunity as we fight internal battles in terrain that we did not even know existed in our bodies.  

Core memories of comfort, kindness and safety have kept my internal compass orienting towards healing and recovery. My earliest memories of my life include color, in the form of pencils, paper and the smells of the beautiful colors in the forms of wax crayons and paints of all kinds. My mother was an artist, and so in my healing from two simultaneous tick bites my nervous system has craved the old, the familiar and the beauty of art. 

I have explored pen and pencil, watercolours and studied the masters. I have revisited art history books, early artwork of plants and religious art, prior botanical art classes, and the mysterious journeys of botanists who traveled the globe to document plants from far away places. 

In this post are just a few examples of the drawings and little paintings that I have been creating in the past year. I have followed and explored brilliant artists, made new friends and met new teachers. Botany has been a light in my life and each small inspired moment has doubled as a drop of healing energy. 

I am grateful to Lara for taking me on as a student again, Giacomina for her inspiration and encouragement, Bianca for helping me find just the right chair to support me during the hours of painting and drawing at my table. I am grateful for Christopher who helped me create the perfect workspace and found the perfect specimens, to Bob and Carol who always say that everything I make is beautiful, and to all of my friends and family worldwide who have been kind, supportive and generous in their sharing of information and good wishes.

I am also grateful for all of the talent that is in the world making it a better and more beautiful place. While the world churns and re-organizes on a daily basis, having botanical resources, and beauty in my surroundings have made a meaningful difference in my recovery. 

I am also so deeply grateful for the birds who winter over, the hummingbirds and the magical subtle rhythms of nature. During my hours of drawing and painting, I have surrendered to rhythms that I sometimes missed before becoming ill. I have trusted that my body will heal the ravages of Lyme disease and I do believe that with time and good healing, we can return to a new level of wholeness and wisdom.

Fire and Water

 In Chinese medicine we often see shock trauma as a separation of the elements of Fire and Water. During this distancing, the two elements we are often left feeling lost, dissociated and disconnected from our authentic selves. The ideal outcome in such an instance is to have immediate support and resources to be able to come back into regulation and for Fire and Water to become more integrated so that they may fall  into their natural rhythm. 

When this rhythm is re-established in the body, we are more inclined to find relationships with the other elements of Earth, Metal and Wood. 

The five elements create an intricate and meaningful web of ebbs and flows of energy through the organs, meridians and inner channels. There are multiple layers of information that are all reliant on the smooth flow of consistent Qi and Blood. When shock energy meets our physiology, these micro currents and reserves can be disrupted and injured. Staying cognisant of these possible disruptions is important because if we are aware that we are in a state of disregualtion, then we can lean into repair and resourcing to come back into more balance and ultimately health.

As our planet alternates between the surprising excesses and deficiencies of both Fire and Water, it feels as though the shock of the pandemic coupled with changing weather patterns are weighing on our physiologies. Sometimes I see these stresses as subtle and sometimes they are more profound and obvious. We have all experienced so much in such a short period of time. I have noticed that the allostatic load of so many changes are creating profound shifts in myself and the people that I support in my practice. We are all navigating the new terrains that the pandemic and weather changes have imprinted upon us. Many of us are living each day with some level of hyper-vigilance as we take in the ongoing reports of pockets of transitions around the planet.

I wonder what might unfold if we were able to lean into more awareness of Fire and Water within our own bodies and see what the possibilities might be as we fine tune our capacities to self regulate, and therefore find our internal compasses that illuminate our paths back to safety, balance and coherence. 

   In these moments of transition, I am acutely aware of the delicate and profound relationship between Fire and Water in my immediate world. I have been keen on photographing different colours of reds, blues and of water. I feel the juxtaposition of the heavy humid days on my skin and bright hot sunlight. Early morning outings have felt like adventurous walks through watery waves of sagging clouds and dripping damp leaves.

I am including images that I have taken in the past few months, during hot and steamy days, between dramatic rain storms filled with lightning and ground shaking thunder and news of seismic changes in the natural world. I want to witness it all, take it in and be present for the profound changes. It is not always easy to experience these shifts but my intention is to move through it all, while keeping the engagement of Fire and Water in check within my own nervous system.

The Magnificent Great Crested Fly Catchers (Myiarchus crinitus)

    The elusive fly catchers are feverishly feeding the chicks that reside in an older blue wooden bird house. The handmade structure is covered by a mature hydrangea and is tucked away in under a tall magnolia tree. Over the years there have been various residents who made this little wooden sanctuary their home, but this year, it has been a treat to see the flycatchers come and go, perch on the magnolia branches and bring back dragonflies, crickets and other insects for their clutch. The male and female work with incredible precision, elegance and have a remarkable cadence. I love their distinct calls and their chartreuse feathers. I also love that they can catch such large flying insects and bring them back to the nest in their beaks with such speed and accuracy. 

The female flies away just as the male arrives with the transparent wings peeking out of its beak. They also eat wasps, spiders, seeds and berries. The garden is filled with all of their delights.

    The colors of their feathers range from light and dark grey to subtle shades of dark and olive yellow. When they fly, they reveal a very beautiful belly that is round and fluffy. The colors of the feathers are almost tropical yet they camouflage so beautifully in this wooded environment. The first time that I saw one here, it was perched on the holly eating berries. I was curious as to its size and its song. It bounced up and down as it ate the berries and protectively gathered its bounty and flew away.

They are not typical back yard birds. They generally live near open fields and woodlands and migrate from the south, as far away as the Yucatan in Mexico. They are often found in nests off the ground, in forests and near water. They may also build a nest in a hollowed out or fallen tree near moist earth. 

The chicks must be ready to fledge very soon. I am imagining that they are well fed and just about ready to greet the garden and the deep shades of the nearby woods. 

They have been safely hidden for weeks now and as they enter the bigger world, they will blend beautifully with the safety and background of the yellow, green and brown tones of the oak forest. 

The Return of the Hummingbirds

   As the hummingbirds return, the flowers are blooming and expanding with gentleness. This gorgeous male arrived several weeks ago, gracing the garden with his presence. He is always fickle, but curious.

   In this photograph the male (affectionately named Estebanito) is pollinating the raspberries and contributing to the fruits of the season. So grateful for his elusive and colourful presence. The fly catchers are nesting, the cat birds are singing during healing sessions and the fig trees are swelling with green goodness. 

   During these very turbulent and painful times, there are small whispers of regulation and beauty nearby. I do believe that we need to embrace the tiniest kind gestures of sweetness and connection. We have so much healing ahead of us. There is a profound need for a strengthened web of support and goodness. It is my hope that Chinese medicine will deepen the mending of the chaos and inter-generational trauma. In my small corner of the world, we pray that ripples of clarity, integration, regulation and sweetness travel far and wide. I hope that each and every action towards personal and collective healing may count towards the greater good during these unprecedented times.

   Wishing everyone a peaceful and very gentle Summer.