I love stories like this — I call them “accidental co-creativity.” And, each one that I hear leads me to think, “If this is what happens by accident, imagine what’s possible when we are all fully conscious of our co-creative power.” I’m already starting to plan how I’ll meet, greet, and team up with menopause when it comes knocking at my door.

Essentially, when the sodium-chloride road salt combines with water, the electrically-charged chlorine atoms break away and accumulate in astonishingly high levels in water sources (a 1997 Danish study found that chloride levels in winter were 1,200 times higher than in summer). Water treatment plants are not constructed to cleanse this level of chloride contamination, so the water makes its way through the ground and also through sewer systems to sources of both human and non-human consumption. The problem with chloride-filled water is that it essentially cannot quench thirst — especially in plants and small animals. Here’s the quick and dirty biology: The chlorides collect on the outside of a plant’s or animal’s cell membranes, unable to cross into the cell, creating a mineral imbalance; the water inside the cell then leaches out via osmosis to correct this imbalance, thus dehydrating the plant or animal. (This is why humans can’t rehydrate on a hot day at the beach by drinking sea water.)

The NPR-show interviewer posed an interesting question: “So, isn’t this another example of a strategy invented by humans to deal with a natural phenomenon that actually causes a larger problem in the end?” Right on. The upside of road-salting is that far fewer people are dying in auto accidents on icy roads. There are, however, other options to explore — though most are either far more expensive (for example, there are high-tech monitoring systems that detect optimal time and conditions to salt, decreasing salt usage by two-thirds in some cases) or far more inconvenient (for example, don’t drive on icy roads!).

We haven’t used any de-icing salt on our sidewalks or driveways yet this winter, and I’m glad for it. Sure, we’ve had to be more timely, aggressive and creative with our snow-removal techniques (I found that the flat-tipped garden shovel works wonders on the slabs of ice that form under car wheels, even though that shovel is heavy-so-heavy), but that’s an extra bit of workload I’m willing to take on in this situation. Of course, we’re just one house surrounded by neighbors who are a bit salt-happy, and located on a major road that is salt-ecstatic, but — heck — it’s a start.

So, I started doing some research, both scholarly and meditative. It’s taken months for the missing-leg information to gel, and this passage from Eric Matthews, Merleau-Ponty: A Guide For the Perplexed (2006), helped me find a bit of clarity:

The insect with the missing leg therefore literally “faces a problem”, defined, not just in terms of external features, but of its own internal needs. It needs to progress, and something is an obstacle to satisfying that need, so it must adapt its functioning in order to solve that problem.

An insect with only five legs must learn a new way to walk and develop a new skill-set in order to continue its forward momentum. Something critical has changed in its experience — and indeed in its “container”, in the core of its being — and it absolutely must shift and adapt in order to survive. Far from hobbled, the missing-leg insects that visited me daily were vibrant models of perseverance and flexibility.

Over the past few years, something critical has changed, too, for me — in my experience, in my “container”, in the core of my being. And, yet, in many ways I have continued to walk on the set of legs with which I’d grown comfortable, instead of hearing the call for adaptation and shift. Over the past few weeks, I have experienced significant physical pain in my left leg, and I realize that by walking down my new path on my “old legs”, I am becoming hobbled.

To all the insects with missing legs: “OK, OK, I hear you. It’s time to stand on my new set of legs — and to do so with as much vibrant grace as you have shown to me.”

Note: Please use only therapeutic-grade lavender oil, such as that from Young Living. Most lavender oils are laden with harsh chemicals that can hurt far more than they can heal.

The last of my crops to yield food are my pumpkin vines. The jack-o-lantern pumpkin plants didn’t produce this year, but the little sugar pumpkins did. I’ve also picked up some cheese pumpkins and kabocha squash at the farmer’s market in town, so I’ve been roasting and pureeing pumpkin flesh all over the place. First off, let me say that the easiest way, by far, to cook a pumpkin (or orange-fleshed squash) is to plop the whole thing (uncut, unscored) in a baking dish and roast it at 375 for about an hour or so. Once the pumpkin takes on a golden, shiny glow and looks like it’ll collapse once away from the oven, it’s done. The baking dish will be full of golden liquid — don’t toss it! Twist off the stem-handle from the top, peel away the layers of skin, and scoop out the glorious flesh. What about the strings and the seeds? If I’m pureeing the pumpkin, the strings are no problem. I extricate all the seeds, set ‘em aside for cleaning and then toasting (toasting these pre-roasted seeds yields THE BEST pumpkin seeds for snacking I’ve ever had). Then, toss the pumpkin flesh (strings and all) and the baking dish liquid in a blender and pulverize. Heaven! The last batch I roasted yielded four large yogurt containers full of bright orange, sweet-as-anything puree. And, here’s what I’ve done with it all:

• Made a Pumpkin Porridge — After having an out-of-this-world dinner at a vegan Korean restaurant in NYC (Hangawi), I came home determined to make my own version of their Pumpkin Porridge appetizer. I did, and here’s what I do: Sautee a half of a small onion in a little olive oil until black on the edges, add in about a cup of pumpkin puree (or chunks), about a quarter cup of water, and a nice pinch of salt, and stir until warmed through. Then I turn off the heat and add about a half-cup of pancake/baking mix (I’ve been using the gluten-free kind lately), to thicken. If it gets too thick, I add more water. Done. And, yum.
• Whipped Up Orangy Pancakes — Adding in pumpkin puree to pancake mix (and reducing the other liquid in the recipe), yields a super-tasty, super-healthful version of the regular old pancake. Mmmm.
• Added a Vitamin A Kick to Chili – I needed a little sweetness in the chili I threw together yesterday, so I poured in about a half-cup of my pumpkin puree. The chili sweetened up, but not too much, and we all got a little extra something with our tomatoes, beans, and spices.
• Made a Vegan Pumpkin Pie/Pudding — Blending two cups of puree with one pack of tofu (drained), a half-cup of maple syrup, and a little pumpkin pie spice and salt makes a fantastic pumpkin pie (cooked in a pie shell at 350 for an hour) or pumpkin pudding (eaten straight out of the blender with a long spoon, or chilled in the fridge — either way!).
• Threw Together a Power Lunch — I put cooked rice, pumpkin puree, and leftover garlic-sauteed kale in a pan to re-heat and mix together. A splash of tamari (I use Bragg’s Liquid Aminos) activated some amazing flavors, and I had a can’t-get-enough lunch.
• Made a Pumpkin Shake — Today for lunch I’m going to reprise my pumpkin shake: a half-cup of pumpkin puree, a quarter-cup of milk (soy, hemp, almond, goat, cow, whatever), a little chunk of tofu, a squirt of agave nectar (and a couple drops of Young Living’s orange oil for that extra wow — optional, of course).

I’m planning to freeze as much pumpkin as I can, to have on hand throughout the winter, but since the four yogurt containers of puree are now down to just one-half, I wonder if I’ll be able to freeze it before I eat it!

That said, here’s my Thieves usage summary that I’ve been emailing around to friends looking for a natural, health-full way to stay in balance:

1) I have my kids wash with Thieves soap (either foaming hand soap or bath bar soap) as soon as they come in the door from school, piano lessons, playdates, etc. (Of course, I wash my hands, too, but I don’t have to cajole myself to do so!)

2) I rub 1-2 drops of Thieves oil on the bottoms of all our feet before we put on socks in the morning and before bedtime at night. I drop the oil directly on the soles of the feet and then rub it in, saying something like, “This is going to help your body be so strong an healthy!” (OK, I use slightly different words with my husband…) Last week, my son came home from school with a stuffy nose and woke up the next morning with glunky nose and throat. I doubled-up the Thieves-on-the-feet program, and by the end of the next day his symptoms were gone.

3) I keep a bottle of Thieves hand purifier in my purse (and in each of the kids’ backpacks) and use it whenever possible — especially after I finish teaching my Music Together classes, with all those runny little noses.

4) I also keep a bottle of Thieves spray in my purse and spray it on doorknobs, inside the car, on faucets, and (of course) on the shared instruments at the music studio.

5) For specific symptoms, here’s what I do — * Sore throat: I toss a drop of the Thieves oil to the back of my throat, careful not to let the bottle touch my tongue or teeth; * Ear pain: I rub a drop of Thieves oil mixed with a drop of olive oil on the outside of my ear, in front and behind (never put essential oils inside the ear canal); * Rattly cough or chest pain: I rub a couple of drops of Thieves oil on my chest and neck, and then I cover my nose with my oiled-up hands and breathe super-deep (getting the oil molecules all the way to the lower lobes of my lungs).

I’m certain I’m forgetting something — there are so many ways to use Thieves. If any of you use YL’s Thieves products and can share additional tips and tricks, please post a comment and share! I’d make a Thieves cocktail and toast to all our good health right now, if I could — so consider yourself toasted: To health!

When I use Young Living oils, I am absolutely working with the oils — and thus with Nature — to co-create health in my body and mind. Essential oils are the aromatic liquids stored in plants’ leaves, petals, roots, seeds, etc. Unlike cooking oils, plant essential oils evaporate easily, which is why we get a whiff of something magical when we inhale deeply when near a rose or in a pine forest. The molecular structure of these oils allow them to pass easily and quickly from the plant into the air and also from a drop of oil through our skin — and then through muscles, connective tissue and even cell membranes. Science now shows that essential oils have direct effects on neurons, emotions, immune responses, hormones, and more. This explains why a couple of drops of peppermint oil shifts my body from a hot box to cool, calm state. (I’m not exactly reaching for a sweater, but I sure don’t need the a/c.)

This also explains why I keep peppermint oil around during cold and flu season, too. I was at a meeting this past winter with a friend, when her husband called to say that her son was running a fever. They didn’t have any Tylenol in the house; could she pick some up on her way home? (Admission: I eavesdropped on their conversation.) I suggested putting a drop of peppermint oil on each of the boy’s feet, to give him some comfort in the meantime. The husband, a bit of a cynic, reluctantly agreed, but urged my friend to come home soon with the drugs. By the time she got home, pharmacy bag in hand, her son’s temperature was back to normal. The peppermint oil molecules were absorbed so quickly and worked so effectively that they didn’t open that bottle of Tylenol that night. Isn’t Nature phenomenol?

Every now and then I read the first “Little House” book to my children, Little House in the Big Woods. In the book, Laura Ingalls Wilder writes about how her mother put up herbs at the end of every growing season, to use during the winter months — culinary herbs for cooking and medicinal herbs for healing. That was in the mid-1800′s. As a culture, we have forgotten, in a short amount of time — less than 200 years! — how to partner with Nature to heal our bodies and minds. I feel like Young Living oils are helping me to remember.

As for the more recent past, I wish I’d remembered my peppermint oil friend yesterday. I’d have saved a little energy and have been a heck of a lot more comfortable. Now, where’s that sweater…?

Today would have been Day Three of the five-day cleanse. (Note the “would have been…”) Days One and Two were remarkably hard on my body, with intense gastrointestinal discomfort (I’m being polite here) and a deep need for actual food. (During other cleanses, I’ve craved chocolate and tortilla chips, and that’s not what I’m talking about here. This time, I found myself desperately wanting fresh beans, crisp carrots, and an entire jar’s worth of almond butter.) Knowing that cravings can indicate a body’s need to cleanse, I soldiered on (and I use that word purposefully — I felt like I was on a Cleanse Mission). Last night, though, while the children ate turkey tacos with shredded baby kale (it’s just like lettuce, and they didn’t know the difference!), I downed carrots, beans and almond butter with gusto. Once the children were asleep, I ate rice cakes, raisins and cashews. By 10:00 last night, my gastro distress had disappeared and I felt a sense of deep balance return to my body. Even then, though, I felt the guilt of not sticking to the cleanse regime (another military word) and worried that I’d wake up with a blood sugar imbalance, regretting all those plump, sweet, late-night raisins. I vowed to wake up in the morning and drink my breakfast shake with a renewed commitment to The Cleanse.

Instead, I listened to my body this morning. Once the kids were off to camp, I went to the pantry and picked up the canister of shake powder, ready to mix up my breakfast. This time, I paid attention to the barely-noticeable jitter in my solar plexus and slight sense of off-balance in my body. Ahhh, I thought to myself, I wonder if it’s in the greatest good to feed my body this shake right now? So, I muscle-tested. I asked my body if it was in the greatest good to drink the Balance Complete for breakfast today, and I got a clear and resounding “NO.” In fact, my body didn’t want any food this morning. Instead, it asked for (through muscle-testing yes/no answers) a glass of Ningxia Red juice (also by Young Living) and a whole lot of water. (Here, I pause to take another big drink and hydrate.) As a result of listening to my body, instead of marching ahead with the cleanse, I feel wonderful — more energized and health-full than I’ve felt in days.

This is the kind of co-creative action that so clearly illustrates our partnership with nature. My body is part of nature and has valuable information that my mind, the free-will part of me, often chooses to ignore. When I attune to my body’s information and actually choose to listen, my resulting choices are simply better and more in balance than when I free-will myself all over the place — even when my free-will choices are what I think are “good” ones, like doing a nutritional cleanse that has yielded amazing results in the past! Working with my body, with nature, instead of working around it (or worse, working without it!) is a beautiful reminder of, as this entire blog states, working co-creatively every day, in everyday ways.