Tofu Acres

On the spur of the moment Becky invited me to go with her and Susan to visit Leigh on Hawai‘i island last weekend. I didn’t have to think twice. Of course! We hadn’t seen Leigh in a few years . . .

Leigh’s life partner Diana told me, when I visited before she died, that she planted every day. The evidence shows now with all manner of fruits, vegetables, and flowers flourishing on the 12 acres of the farm called Tofu Acres.

As the plaque stuck in a rusty planter barrel reads, “The kiss of the sun for pardon / The song of the birds for mirth / One is nearer good heart in a garden / than anywhere else on earth.”

Citrus, papaya, banana, poha berry, guava, taro, chayote, kitchen herbs, and strawberries mingle with gardenia, cigar flower, hibiscus, ginger, plumeria, anthuriums, orchids, and roses. Hāpuʻu tree ferns, ʻōhiʻa lehua, and waiawī of the neighboring ʻŌlaʻa Rain Forest remain rooted at the borders. All embrace two small wooden cottages that Smiley built.

. . . Becky and Leigh were my first two Lanihuli-Drive-apartment roommates, one after the other, in college. We were all journalism majors at the University of Hawai‘i in the late Sixties and started our careers writing the daily news. Leigh is still a reporter, Becky became an attorney, and here I am the blogging fool. Susan latched on to us sometime along the way.

Leigh didn’t have a choice in the matter. We three descended on her private world, inviting ourselves to spend Saturday night and all-day Sunday. Just us girls. For a few hours, time stood still . . .

Tofu Acres sits between Mountain View and Glenwood on the way to Volcano.  It is home to 9 dogs, 5 cats, 1 black pig, 1 goat, 1 mynah bird, 7 ducks, about 40 chickens, and Leigh—who rescued most of the animals and has names for all except some of the chickens.

Did I mention fresh farm eggs for breakfast?! That’s what we woke up to after an evening of pathetic Scrabble and reminiscing. You know, journalists and their words are almost as bad as linguists. The romantic glow of antique lamps was no help as we ladies fumbled for our reading glasses. From the four rocking chairs we moved the game to the brighter-lighted big beds, serenaded loudly by the unmistakable coqui frogs into the night.

Before Leigh had shown us the supply of bottled drinking water, I took some meds with water from the tap, to her obvious concern. “It’s okay, isn’t it?” I asked. She said she never thought to tell us city folk. At that elevation she’s on rain catchment. “I don’t know,” she replied still concerned, “I’ve just always drunk bottled water. I’m sure it’s okay, it must be okay.” Did she brush her teeth with it? “No.” Not knowing what to do, in sympathy she filled a tumbler half full of tap water and downed it. That’s my friend Leigh.

The after-breakfast routine is to greet and feed all the animals and gather more eggs. That takes some time on Tofu Acres. It’s a bright and sunny morning. Smiley has emerged respectfully from his house trailer parked recently in Leigh’s driveway, announcing he’s washed the dogs and picked up some supplies.

He’s assembled a potting shelter down the way, and this morning he’s tending systematically to new tomato seedlings. He’s a kind, sweet man, a wonderful friend who appears when you need him the most. Leigh told us that when Diana died, Smiley prepared the land for Diana’s crypt in the pouring rain (you’re allowed to be buried at home with the proper permits). When some lōlō showed up with Leigh’s car after it disappeared for a few days, Smiley was there to greet it and advised Leigh to call the cops.

As the poignant story unfolds, we learn from Leigh that Smiley’s wife is ill, and that he and their son take turns caring for her. Smiley comes to Tofu Acres for respite.

Before heading out for the day to explore some property, to go shopping, and to visit the Hawaii Volcanoes National Park where we bought our senior passes for life—yay, age has its privileges!—we went to see where Diana rests peacefully in a lovely setting.

 . . . Of course we roomies know the next chapter of the story, even though dear Leigh doesn’t.

True friendship is clairvoyant. Cultivate your friendship like a garden and hold it close to your heart. Be kind and take care of each other, the animals, and the land, for we are One.

Roomies at Halemaumau. I didn’t get the red-sandals memo.

Copyright 2013 Rebekah Luke

New lessons in art, music, and healing

At my age I’m not setting any long-term career goals, but I do have some short-term objectives heading into 2013.

These objectives began as seeds who knows when, and it looks like now is the time they will have grown enough to be realized. The ideas were in my mind; I just needed a little nudge from outside myself to give me enough confidence to go ahead. Or perhaps it was just a matter of timing.

I lump these objectives into one category—teaching! Art, music, and healing. And I like it.

Last year I taught my first class in Painting I and II, and I co-taught my first class in Reiki. It is a pleasure for me to share what I know how to do with students who are eager to learn. In turn, I learn from them.

This coming year my first students will continue with Landscape Painting, I hope, and then they will join me in Tuscany, Italy, near Florence, in the fall to learn from an award-winning Italian artist I met on my November 2012 trip there. Imagine that!

Others have inquired about art and painting lessons, so I’ve decided to offer another round, starting with Painting I again for adults and adding a course for children in the neighborhood. I’m told that art is no longer offered in the public schools.

New and exciting is the go-ahead from the co-directors of my high school alumni glee club for me to come to rehearsals a half hour early to show singers, who want to learn, how to sight read music. I’m looking forward to that and the “Aha!”s I know I’ll see.

What were those seeds?

Most were questions posed by others, questions that I pondered before realizing, “I can help you with that!”

Rita, a sister Pen Woman, encouraged me to teach art to children, saying there is a great need. I thought about it and put the possibility on hold.

Then my glee club sister Linda said she was experimenting with pastels, but thought first she needed to learn some basics.  So I put together a Wednesday class for adults, and she recruited two more friends.

When Rae, one of my pupils, heard that part of our family now lived in Italy, she said “Let’s all go. We can rent a villa and paint!” So when I found out the owner of the villa Ari rented in Tuscany was an award-winning  painter whose work I liked, I asked if we could return so we could learn from him. He was delighted, and now I find myself coordinating the trip.

A children’s librarian who found my blog inquired about painting lessons on Saturdays because she worked during the week, hence the new Saturday class. As long as I’m doing all this, and as some parents have asked, I thought, why not start teaching the children too?

As for the music: At choir rehearsal, some of the altos sit near me to hear the note to sing. At best that means a delay in our attack. Many learn their part by listening to the piano and repeating. One time Carol asked what the rest signs and other symbols on the staff were. She was thankful for the explanation, and I could tell it was a revelation to her. So I boldly proposed to give a sight reading workshop “for those who have no clue or who once learned but forgot”— so people could learn the music faster, find accomplishment in knowing how to read music, and benefit the group.

And finally, to become certified as a Reiki Master Teacher, I need a few more hours of co-teaching with my teacher. I know she is looking to put those classes on her calendar, now that she will no longer be involved with her family’s restaurant business that is closing after many years. So I’m happy to announce plans for another round of Reiki certification classes coming soon as well, for we all need healing every day.

Copyright 2012 Rebekah Luke

For related posts, please type “teaching” (without quotes) in the search box at the right. RL

A kiss from Pua

Today is Fathers Day in America. Our son-in-law Travis is in Italy, so we sent him this card from Pua, his dog, who we are caring for until he, Miss Marvelous and family return.

Me, Alice Brown, DH, and Pua

Happy Fathers Day, everyone, from all of us at Rebekah’s Studio!

“Honor your parents, teachers, and elders.”

— from the Usui System of Reiki Healing Precepts

Yes, I am a Reiki master

I awoke with the Usui System of Reiki Healing Precepts in my head:

Just for today, do not worry.

Just for today, do not anger.

Honor your parents, teachers and elders.

Earn your living honestly.

Show gratitude to every living thing.

It dawned on me that the first two lines were keys to achieving “no more back pain” in the way suggested by John E. Sarno, M.D., in his book Healing Back Pain: The Mind-Body Connection. In my last post, that appears under this one, I told the story of a health issue and how I would be seeing how well I could “live with it” before seeing a spine surgeon.

This Mother’s Day weekend I received two noteworthy healing gifts: a Reiki workshop by my friend and colleague Lori, and Dr. Sarno’s book from DH that arrive in the mail (before, I had read only excerpts of the book).

On Saturday, Lori, one of my Reiki teachers, and I gave the Level 2 and Master level training at the studio, and at the end of the day Lori had attuned and certified two more independent Reiki masters, 11th generation from Dr. Mikao Usui through Mrs. Hawayo Takata.

In preparing for the session Lori said I should participate in the “Journey into Mastery” segment of the training, along with the new students. In other words, to put it bluntly, she thought I could use a refresher. Having experienced the 90-minute meditation when I was initially attuned to Reiki, I knew it was powerful for clearing out old, repressed emotions.

Repressed emotions are what Dr. Sarno maintains is the cause of TMS, or Tension Myositis Syndrome, a constellation of physical pain that is frequently misdiagnosed as caused by an injury to the structure of the body. Exactly what kinds of repressed emotions?

Sarno identifies anxiety (worry) and anger as number one and number two on the list.

The way to heal my TMS is remarkably simple, now that I have accepted the diagnosis. Sarno writes that treatment involves education, “the acquisition of knowledge, of insight into the nature of the disorder.” In his program he gives two lectures. In my case I am reading, reading, reading. The second part is to acquire “the ability to act on the knowledge and thereby change the brain’s behavior.”

So, here’s what I learned I have to do. When I feel physical pain, I ask myself, “Why this pain now? What is going through my mind? What am I thinking?” I regard the pain as my body’s way of telling me that there is an unpleasant, uncomfortable or unkind emotion I’m having at that moment. And I say to the pain, “Go away, stop distracting me from this emotion. I know what’s bothering me. I understand. I don’t need the pain anymore.” Yes, it can be that simple.

As long as I recognize there are psychological reasons for pain and become aware of the emotion, I am on my way to recovery. Though I don’t believe it’s necessary to go back and relive the emotional pain, I think touching that “nerve” and the few good cries I’ve had are helpful. Finding the courage to “go there” . . . yeah.

I am thankful to have had four weeks to learn about TMS while waiting to see the spine surgeon. I’m resuming my normal activities, and the sciatic pain is less and less. I meet the spine doctor for the first time in just a few hours. I’m looking forward to a good visit.

Copyright 2012 Rebekah Luke

Heal thyself (myself)

Sometimes the healer needs healing. That would be me.

If you read this to the end you’ll know how I’ve decided to heal myself, but briefly, some background.

About two months ago I experienced excruciating sciatic pain in my right calf while driving. Fearing a blockage of some sort, I detoured to my internist. On a previous visit for a sudden bad pain in my buttock when I stepped out of the swimming pool, the internist sent me to a physical therapist. Eventually the pain went away with some massage and certain yoga exercises. This time, he referred me to sports medicine.

Sports medicine ordered a two-part nerve test that indicated a pinched nerve. This data was evidence for an MRI that showed “severe” arthritis of my lower back (probably inherited, said the doc) and lumbar stenosis at three levels. I was referred to a spine surgeon by the sports medicine doc who explained my options were surgery, spinal injections, or “live with it.”

I would have to wait a month for my first appointment with the surgeon when I presumed he would discuss surgery. Imagine my anxiety.

In the meantime I “put it out” to a small group of Facebook friends, some of whom are my first cousins, and I learned that spine problems are common in my mother’s family and that several have had surgery with mixed outcomes. My friends were kind and offered moral support.

I began researching spine surgery, symptoms, diagnoses, doctors, hospitals. I found online support sites where people, having no one else to sympathize with them, share their stories. I began seriously/finally to look at ergonomic furniture for me and my laptop computer, knowing that if I did have surgery I would still have to take better care of my body afterward. I thought of at least three people who opted for outpatient-type microsurgery and who came through with flying colors.

What to do, what to do? I decided to see how well I could live with it for the four weeks between appointments.

I went to see my naturopath for a Chinese acupuncture treatment. He also gave me liquidambar tablets for the arthritis. On the second visit I asked him all the questions I had, to which he replied, “That’s a good question!” I said I noticed that when I became “ill,” I somehow recovered, but when I became ill the next time, it would be worse followed by a greater recovery (I would feel better than ever), and so on. This most recent episode is a doozy. My naturopath said if this pattern gave me awareness, then it was a good thing. He said I could pay attention to the situations that coincided with pain.

Now this is the best part: He told me of John E. Sarno, M.D., who presents evidence that the kind of pain I’ve been experiencing is caused by unconscious emotions. He told me, “I believe you have the information and the ability to heal. There’s just one missing piece: the emotional piece. Think about it.”

So I did and I am. I went to amazon.com and looked up one of Sarno’s books. Here’s the link to a preview: http://www.amazon.com/Healing-Back-Pain-Mind-Body-Connection/dp/0446392308#reader_0446392308

I thank my naturopath so much, for listening to me — each appointment with him lasts 90 minutes vs. the 15 minutes of traditional health care — and for pointing me to Sarno’s work.

Sarno’s diagnosis of TMS (Tension Myositis Syndrome) resonates with me. He discusses my exact symptoms, and I fit the profile of the type of person prone to have TMS. I am giving his method for “no more back pain” a try. So far, so good.

As you may know, I am a Reiki master. I am able to help others. I know intellectually that the body heals itself and that many physical ailments have emotional roots. Though I tell clients about healing the whole self—body, mind, spirit and emotions, I hardly ever address my own need for emotional healing. If it occurred to me, I  quickly put it out of my mind. Now I am willing to own up to my denial and willing to let go of the pain.

When my Reiki master teacher heard that other members of my mother’s family had back problems, she wondered if what we all experienced was “ancestral pain.” We don’t have to know exactly what our ancestors did to cause pain or what it was that caused them to have guilt or other negative emotions, we just have to acknowledge it, express forgiveness, and release it.

I may have inherited that problem, but I have my own “stuff” to fix, too.

Sarno says (I think) deep unconscious emotional pain is the cause of a particular physical pain that is very real. TMS is induced by emotional phenomena, but it is a physical disorder. The pain is my body’s defense mechanism for unexpressed emotions. If I can get in touch with those strong (like rage), buried, and uncomfortable emotions, face them, acknowledge them and explore why, then I can release it (to the Universe) and say, “I don’t need the pain anymore.” Further, that pain is the sign for me to stop and think, “Why am I having this pain at this moment?” and answer, “Okay. I understand. No more pain.”

Like I said, I’m working on it. Talking about it. Writing about it. As for the scary images from my MRI, I’m still keeping the appointment with the spine surgeon. In taking charge of my healing I want to cover all my bases.

Thank you so much for listening. It has been therapeutic for me to write this post. Perhaps what I’ve learned will help someone else.

Copyright 2012 Rebekah Luke

The energy of collaboration

So, dear reader, the new energy I’m talking about has to do with the comings and goings of new friends and old friends at the studio—my healing space, my brick-and-mortar studio, and a unique gallery space.

In February I held a Reiki Level I training class in the Unlimited Reiki System of Natural Healing with Reiki Master Teacher Lori A. Wong, who attuned and certified three students. The island country setting is well suited for meditation. We plan to continue with Level II and Master Level training. What a day. Wow. When we channel Reiki, or universal life force energy, we heal, harmonize, and balance our minds, bodies, spirits and emotions! It was great!

I also started teaching adults how to oil paint, after the method my own teachers Vicky Kula and Gloria Foss taught me, and everyone is enjoying it. My students, just three ladies for now, attend class once a week for most of the day. (Although I promoted both offerings widely, three seems to be the magic number from the Universe. )

Studio painters

With the combined lecture/demo, hands-on painting assignment, homework and critique each time—starting with the basics and then having each lesson build upon the previous learned knowledge—they understand there is a lot to learning to paint.

I, myself, am enjoying the refresher from developing lesson plans and doing the assignments. I don’t have all the answers, but the students are very clever and are full of new ideas. We laugh a lot, and I learn from them too. A bonus: They bring food and recipes for lunch, and, believe me, they can cook!

I’m happy to share what I know how to do. It’s surprising that it has taken so long for me to have enough confidence to do this. I think I just wanted to be sure I could do it well.

Pi‘ikea and Vicky relax in front of “Morning Destination: Kalaeokaoio Beach” — Photo by Rebekah Luke

Yesterday’s open house event of a renovated Kailua home that is on the market was a chance to see 15 of my paintings displayed in a residential setting.

The students came and brought lots of good energy to the property. It is a different experience to see an original oil painting up close and properly framed and hanging rather than to see a reproduction.

The colors are true. One can view paint strokes and textures. It is easier to imagine what the art piece will look like in your own home or office.

Other fans of Rebekah’s Studio came to support the collaborative project efforts of Realtor Associates Ruth Sinclair and Karyn Shaunnessy who invited me to be their guest artist.

Me and members of my fan club at the special showing, left to right: Noella, Rochelle, me, Pat, Karen, and Pi‘ikea. The lei po‘o (the beautiful yellow floral wreath of native and tropical flowers on my head) is a gift from Vicky, and the sweet white ginger lei is from Nani (who came earlier and left before the photo op). — Photo by Karyn Shaunnessy

Collaborators (from left) Ruth Sinclair, Rebekah Luke, and Karyn Shaunnessy. — Photo by James H. Kim On Chong-Gossard

Copyright 2012 Rebekah Luke

Wake up call: maintaining my terrain

Now that I’ve overindulged by eating carnival food containing sugar, white carbs, and meat last Saturday, as well as caving in to pizza and a chocolate eclair on Super Sunday, it’s time to focus on my health again. The message is clear, but, unfortunately, I’m a slow learner.

I phoned my friend and classmate Piikea last night, as I had not heard from her in a while, and she missed her Punahou Carnival work shift with the Class of ’67. She called back, having just returned from Paris where she went to see her friend in the hospital who, as it turns out, has pancreatic cancer that has spread to her liver. Not good.

Piikea’s report was, after the oncologist had prescribed chemotherapy, her friend’s daughter convinced her mother to try a raw vegetable juice diet — sorry, I don’t have the name of the diet — that claims to have cured 4,000 or so people. Specific vegetables are recommended.

In a few days, the patient eliminated all sorts of nasty-looking stuff — gall stones, mucus, black substances — and started showing improvement. Her tumors have shrunk. (In sympathy, Piikea did the diet too, and feels better. She has decided to change her lifestyle. We’ll help each other.)

Of course I am oversimplifying the situation by leaving out the emotions of our conversation, but the story has reminded me of the diet advice presented in the book by Dr. David Servan-Schreiber, MD, PhD, Anticancer A New Way of Life that I wrote about in a previous post, the book that speaks about “maintaining your terrain” to discourage cancer cells, that we all have in our bodies, from getting a foothold.

It’s the one my glee club sister Lois encouraged me to read, and I’m glad I did. And darn, I should follow it. The advice worked for Lois in her recovery from cancer, but isn’t it better to take care of our terrains before we become ill?

The number one diet advice, backed by scientific evidence, is NO SUGAR. Cancer cells feed on sugar. It’s not just diet alone. Other factors weigh in too, though, including one’s spiritual well being.

Which brings me to let you know that besides practicing Reiki (hands-on healing technique), there will be occasions when I will offer instruction in the “Unlimited Reiki System.”

Reiki Master Teacher Lori Wong, who along with Alice Anne Parker gave me my own Reiki certification, will teach Reiki Level I, that focuses on self healing, on Saturday, Feb. 18, 2012, at my healing space, and I will assist her.

The cost of the day-long training is $150 and well worth the amount for instruction, attunements, certification, and lunch!  Lori is a professional chef, and I am a good cook. Please contact me (phone 808-237-7185 on Oahu, and I will return your call) for information about joining the Reiki I class. This complementary therapy is available to all, and you can learn to do it too.

Be well, everyone. And thank you for visiting the studio. ~ Rebekah

Copyright 2012 Rebekah Luke