Oona, Bound Lotus and Shamanic Healing

My day began with an incredible amount of energy, and then the awareness once again that my monthly cycle is upon me again. This is the second month that I had no typical warnings of cramping, bloating, fatigue or intense irritability. I do not have the periomenopausal symptoms I was getting either: no night sweats, no insomnia, no severe mood swings. All thanks to Oona. I love it! It is a specific formulation of Chaste tree berry and Black Cohosh. I have taken these herbs before, but they've never had this effect. It must be the way the herbs work synergistically, as well as the fact that this company is very particular about using all of the parts of the plant. They also are picky about when and where they pick the plants. These are things that so-called rational minds tend not to understand the necessity of...

I felt so fabulous sitting in Bound Lotus! It actually felt good for most of the time. Usually there is some discomfort. I even tried coming into full Lotus on each side for a minute, but that proved to be rather taxing for my left knee, so I came out. I can sit in full Lotus on each side, but not, apparently after half Bound Lotus for 10-12 minutes. I wonder I'll be able to hold Full Bound Lotus at the end of 1'0000 days?

I went to see the movie "The Horse Boy", about a six-year-old boy named Rowan with autism. He is so socially disabled and exhausting to care for that his parents decide, of all things, to take him to Outer Mongolia to be healed by shamans. This isn't as far fetched as it might seem, and in my opinion from watching the movie, the shamans actually heal the boy. Only an idiot or a stubborn mule of a person wouldn't be able to see that (hmm, there's my judgemental side). The shamans heal him. They don't cure him. He still has the gifted traits of autism, but not the debilitating ones. And there are advantages to being autistic, such as astoundingly one-pointed concentration, organizational skills beyond compare, and a vast reservoir of creativity. I've often thought that both my father and myself were dysfunctionally autistic on the mild spectrum, having learned through modeling how dispense with some of the aversive traits and keep the others. My dad can memorize poetry at the drop of a hat, and I have an amazingly photographic memory. I can recall information from books along with the page numbers. I should have been a spy. Phoenix Lei - Agent 88.