Blood & Bathrooms: on sponges and toilets

warning:  if discussion of menstrual blood or going to the bathroom makes you uncomfortable, you should definitely read this!

written as a note on my facebook page 16 FEB 2009: 

I'm on the sponge...



...because I've learned that the sea sponge is a great absorber of menstrual blood.


Not only is it cheaper and 'greener' (sorry) ... it feels a hell of a lot better than a dry, cotton tampon. It's spongy! It's natural. It's lovely.


Just take it out, rinse it, and pop it back in.


Happier cunts = happier world


On sponges:
As an alternative to tampons and bulky pads, I catch blood with reusable sea sponges.  You can find them at natural food stores (small, cosmetic type) for less than $3, and they'll last up to six months.  It's been nearly 2 & 1/2 years since I switched.  I haven't used tampons since, and I love it!  I've gotten quite good at being able to use the sponge in any setting... from roadside rest-stops in India (literal $h!t-holes) to restrooms in fancy international airports.  The only thing you need is water.  Yesterday was the best: we were hiking up a mountain.  Lucky for me there flowed fresh, glacial streams that ran parallel to the trail.  Yes, I know about freshwaters and why we should never drink from them.  Dead animals, animal feces, and various sources of bacteria and other microscopic nasties... make the water dangerous.  However, being that we were nearing the chilly summit of the hill, I took the risk and found it a lovely opportunity to pop a squat with the cool, clean water at my disposal for rinsing myself and my sponge.  Let's just hope there wasn't anyone just downstream going for a drink. 

In places like India and Tunisia, restrooms are ideal as there is always a source of water near the toilet.  Indian style toilets are the best, as they require the 'squat' which is a more natural, comfortable way of relieving oneself (I could write an entire post on my love for those toilets).  When using the sponge, having a water source is essential for the rinse.  If there's not a faucet right there, you must carry a water bottle... which is no big deal, as long as you remember.  Otherwise, you're forced to leave the bathroom stall with a handful of bloody sponge.  With a spare sponge and water bottle in tow, you're set!

On toilets: 
Besides being highly convenient for sponge users, toilets with water nearby are better overall.  I have a girlfriend who insists on using baby wipes after using the toilet.  Not only are they expensive, they're also made with a bunch of unnatural elements... and why would we want to bring our anatomical jewels into contact with unnatural elements?  Obviously, toilet paper is the norm in the States and many other places.  However, after living in India for a few months, I warmed up to the idea of using water instead.  Not only is toilet paper irritating, it often just doesn't do the job.  You know what I'm talking about... sometimes it's the never-ending wipe.  Now, this is often the result of a combination that's due to our position and the paper itself.  The squat position allows for a more natural and complete release of waste.  Imagine the mess of going to the bathroom while standing up.  Gross.  From there, imagine coming into a seated position.  From there, go even further and take it down to a squat.  Can you now see why it's even cleaner?  I must confess:  at times I squat on sitting toilets.  Moving on to toilet paper versus water.  Think about dirt on any part of your body.  Let's take the hands for example.  When your hands are dirty, would you find it more practical to wipe them off with a dry piece of toilet paper or clean them off with water?!  Exactly.

Alright, enough talking $h!t. Back to the original topic...


I know of one good friend who has since tried the sponge with success.  Anyone else?  Tell your friends about it.  It's less wasteful and will also save you money.  Of course... it's not exactly vegan.  Sponges are animals.  happy June! 

I heart the extra virgin

Have you looked at the lists of ingredients on the containers of your soaps, moisturizers, exfoliators, shampoos, make-up removers, et cetera?  Many of them contain loads of chemicals and unpronounceable agents.  There are claims that some of these ingredients (such as sodium lauryl sulfate, glycerin, and artificial colorings) may be harmful to one's health.  I'll let you do that research on your own.  The way I see it... why not go as natural as possible?  I've discovered that- when it comes to any aspect of life- simple and natural is way better.  This year, my new favorite multi-functioning product is extra virgin olive oil (EVOO).  Not only is it fabulous on crusty breads and fresh salads, it's also wonderful for the skin and scalp.  I've actually tested & tried the following list of suggestions:

* For an exfoliating scrub, mix sea salt into a few spoonfuls of EVOO.  After soaping & rinsing delicate regions (such as the "anatomical jewel" [see:  Cunt by Inge Muscio]), gently exfoliate dead skin cells on the non-delicate areas by applying the scrub with a washcloth or your hands.  Rinse well with water only.  

* For the best moisturizer ever, use EVOO after showering.  Pat yourself dry with a towel, allowing the skin to retain some dampness.  Apply EVOO all over the body.  Sure, you'll smell like a salad for five minutes, but the scent dissipates.  Rejoice at having the softest winter skin.  

* Dab a piece of cotton or facial tissue into EVOO for a great natural make-up remover.  From what I've read, it apparently conditions your lashes.  It's so nice not to use chemically, drying agents on the skin... especially your beautiful, delicate eyes. 

* For dandruff or dryness, massage EVOO into the scalp.  Let it do its magic for 15-30 minutes before rinsing it out.  Follow with this shampoo-free magical formula:  beat two egg yolks with some water, massage into hair.  Let it sit for five minutes as you proceed with a shower.  Rinse hair very well.  Follow with an apple cider vinegar rinse to condition:  mix about 1/4 cup (or less for short hair) with water and pour onto hair.  Rinse, rinse, rinse and enjoy your healthy mane.  For real. 

Another moment.

As for places one can find on a map, my favorite place in Tusisia (so far) is the farmland of Khazazia, flourishing with olive and almond trees.  The walk from the farmhouse (home to a few members of Nadhem's extended family) to the main road takes at least a half hour.  Before reaching the corner to wait for a ride, we stopped by the house on the last plot of land to say hello to the man who lives there.  Nadhem informed me that the man is kind, yet a little crazy (forgive me for forgetting his name).  Apparently, he was successful in his studies to a point, but something happened.  Further details, which I don't recall, aren't important. 

Outside his house, a teapot was boiling over charcoals.  Nadhem walked inside and woke the man from his rest.  After a moment, he came back out and used two sticks to set the kettle on the ground.  We mozied around back to find a grove of olive trees stretching far into the yard.  I could smell the steam of the sweet mint tea wafting in the breeze.  Around the other side, we walked across a field of wild flowers:  yellow and white daisies with the occasional rich-red poppy.  After a while the tall, scruffy-haired man emerged from the house.  As he approached, the smell of urine almost knocked me over.  We stood around for a few minutes before he retreated back into his house. 

After enjoying some time in the field of flowers beneath a lovely overcast sky, we headed towards the house to say goodbye.  The man of the house was sitting near a tall, wooden door at the front gate.  As the three of us walked down the main road, Nadhem pointed out the piss stains on the back of the man's pants.  We waited on the corner and the man practiced the little English he knew by asking me my name and subsequently telling me to shut up (a commonly remembered expression that's always amusing to hear).  After popping into a small store to buy some fruit and smokes, he made his way back down the dusty road to his home.  Nadhem proceeded to tell me that this guy lives alone and has nobody.  Although he's apparently quite bright, nobody ever wants to talk to him as something's "off".  Nadhem makes it a point to pass by and spend time with him on trips out to his family's house. 

>>>  In the beginning, when the smell of urine almost knocked me over, I'm not gonna lie:  I was a little uncomfortable.  As the experience continued, I began to realize even more of the infinite compassion and love that lies within Nadhem's heart.  Standing in the field of flowers, enjoying the moment, I was thankful for every aspect of my life.  Finally, as I watched the man walk down the dusty road that led to his big, lonely farmhouse, my heart opened even wider.  I was really glad that Nadhem brought me there, and thought to myself:  how awesome it's been to be hanging out with someone almost ten years younger than I (who hasn't ever left his country or ventured too far from home)... and be constantly learning and wisening-up.   

As we sat on the corner waiting for a ride, I noticed the trash all over the ground.  I don't know what sparked it, but my thoughts turned to death.  Seeing that Nadhem was upset by my tears, my thought process immediately shifted.  Death is part of life and Nadhem's father had passed away years ago.  How grateful I should be that I've been able to enjoy the company of my parents.  The following week, Nadhem brought me to his father's grave.  He poured water over the marble gravestone and cleaned it off with his hand.  A couple of men approached us and recited verses from the holy Qur'an.  After they left, Nadhem and I prayed over the grave.  The entire time, I was on the verge of outright sobbing.  As we continued to pray, a calm swept over me.  I was able to remember that each moment of life is God's will.  The next moment is not guaranteed.  Of course, we never know when it'll be our time.  But when it is, may we remember to thank God, as he takes the ones he loves. 

Vipassana

Just before checking in to the 10-day silent meditation Vipassana course, I wrote:  

what could happen

In Ten Days?

people will die

bombs will explode

daily life routines will

continue to drone.

snow will fall

clouds will shift

hearts will break and 

people will fall in love.

the world continues to spin

by god, or unseen magicians

by the grace of the 

beloved musicians.

There's a lot I'm tempted to say about my time at the Vipassana Meditation Center in Pune, Maharashtra, India.  Saying too much might elicit expectations from others who have yet to experience it.  It's hard to approach anything without expectations, and I'm happy I went for it having heard only very general comments, without having read much.  I can say that the technique is brilliant!  

Imagine the ideal gift.  To do so, you might draw from past experiences.  Maybe your dear friend treated you to a day out:  breakfast at your favorite cafe, a walk in the park, yoga class, and an organic dinner with her comforting company all the while.  Perhaps you imagine a future gift, something you could really use.  The gift I discovered during Vipassana is the ideal gift that renews itself with each moment.  Here, we have another cliche, "that's why they call it the present".  When you choose to open it, this gift  continues to unfold.  The more it unfolds, the more beautiful it becomes.  It's you, it's the present, it's the universe, it's life.  As long as you're alive, you have the choice of acceptance.  In accepting this gift, the most beautiful depths of the self are revealed.  

There are so many ways to happiness, God, self-realization.  Vipassana is yet another practice worth trying.  Without focusing on God, the technique aims to positively alter the manner in which we react while broadening our understanding of impermanence.  In the end, we are guided down the road to decreased suffering... and increased happiness, patience, and compassion.  

If you've considered attending the course... do it!  Read no more.  

India II, part I: Why India?

The view from the mountaintop may be amazing, but it’s the climb that...  

___[your thought here]___.

For decades, the cliché has been that travelers go to India for soul-searching.  It’s been said, it’s been observed, that many Westerners from countries whose spiritual aspects are muted by materialism flock to the vast land with hopes of discovering a deeper meaning of life.  If the process is “finding oneself”, the travelers are seekers.  The initial assault on the senses, continuation of surprises, and beautiful flow of the unexpected must be experienced to understand how a trip to the subcontinent can turn one inside out.   Spend some time soaking it in and then, there it is: your soul.  In the midst of positive transformation, spinning around brilliantly before you .  Why India? 

So long as the traveler has a heart, a trip to India will tear it wide open.   Be ready for surgery of the soul.  Sadness, pity, awe, and shock may be the first emotions to flood one’s being. Upon their arrival, tourist seekers from the West are immediately confronted by India’s poverty.  The widespread in-your-face occurrence of slums, beggars, crippled, diseased, and homeless pierce the heart like daggers.   In some areas, the pollution is suffocating and the streets are lined with trash.  On the scene, one cannot help but think about materialistic attachments, the meaning of “luxury”, and the means of an individual’s mere survival. After some time, the place and its people will fill that heart with compassion, appreciation, and love.

Then there’s the God aspect.  The country overflows with rituals of religious devotion.  In the West, the politically correct manner of practicing worship is to do so behind closed doors.  Such is not the case in the land of Hindus.  Prayers, parades, pujas, and other acts of worship openly occur on the streets, at the ghats and in the flowing waters of the holy rivers, and around the various temples found in every nook and cranny.   The sound of chanting layered with drums and bells permeates the air intermittently, adding joy to the backdrop of beeping traffic, mooing cows, and revving machinery, as one passes through any city.  Images of gods, goddesses, and gurus are found everywhere one turns:  in taxis, homes, restaurants, hotels, and bus stations.  A shopkeeper starts his day by lighting incense and saying a prayer before the flower- adorned shrine set up behind the counter, unconcealed.  In every corner, in every way, the polluted atmosphere is blessed over and over again through the devotion of India’s billions of inhabitants. 

The air of India’s spirituality has spread like wildfire.   The Beatles’ George Harrison brought the maha mantra (Hare Krishna, Hare Ram) mainstream.  Devotees of Lord Krishna donning saffron robes and shaved heads are seen the world over.   Their International Society for Krishna Consciousness (ISKCON) temples have been global for decades.  Along with its wide-openness of religious practice, India mothers the ancient roots of yoga and various types of meditation.   It was yoga that drew me here from the beginning and, for a large percentage of travelers, these “new age” practices are the main attractions. 

With so many ancient ruins, holy sites, temples, gurus, ashrams, and meditation courses, it’s easy for one to get lost in this enormous show of the sacred.  Seeking out the ultimate spiritual experience, travelers go this way and that, from ashram to temple to guru.  The search itself brings immediate yet temporary satisfaction.  As long as one is seeking, there is denial of the divine that lies within us at all times, in all places.  Only when the effort is dropped and the seeking has ceased, one is able to see the beauty, truth, and supreme energy in each moment, in each living being.

“So long as the traveler has a heart, a trip to India will tear it wide open”.  Within that open heart, divinity reveals itself without having to be found.  Layers upon layers of veils, which prevent us from seeing things as they are, gradually fall away.   At the end of the day, the spiritual awakenings end up occurring, perhaps not at the temples and holy sites, but on the long and winding roads that lead to their doors.