Park Slope Reader

wellness

Good & Well: A Local Investigation of Wellness

By Filed Under: Reader Wellness Tagged With: , , , , , , , , , ,

It’s nearly impossible to walk a block in Park Slope without spotting wellness in one of its many embodiments. Alternative medical offices and juice shops abound. Conversations often slip into the familiar cadence of words once foreign-words like chakra, ketogenic, or ashwagandha. Gone are the days of living intentionally being reserved for the hyper-health conscious. Wellness has made its way to the masses.     

 

What was once a niche market is now a near 4 trillion dollar movement towards living “well.” And what does that mean exactly? I took to the streets of Park Slope, a historically progressive and health centered neighborhood, to find out. 

My journey began at D’mai urban spa where the scents of serenity that slipped out the sleek exterior created an impromptu oasis on 5th Avenue. I was transported from the muggy street to the back corner of the spa, plush robe knotted, to a sweltering sauna. Wellness, I thought prematurely and perhaps influenced by the cucumber water I was sipping, was actually pretty simple. As my body unwound and the temperature rose, I considered the last time I intentionally did something for my physical self. Did my recent acquisition of a swingy workout skort count? My thoughts were interrupted as I was shuffled to my massage table. When Daniella Stromberg, the owner of D’Ami, proposed a CBD Pain Relief Massage as a experiment in wellness, I was intrigued. 

CBD oil, primarily made from canabitdoid, has been popular in the world of wellness for years. Known to relieve stress, relax tension in the body, and perhaps even lighten the weight of anxiety, this hemp derived miracle worker is shifting into the mainstream. 

As the massage therapist pulled the tension from my wrist she whispered, “There, different story,” and I nearly jumped off the table in light of this revelation. She was right. Wellness is altering, for good, the parts of our stories we can change. Narrative traces through every point in our lives-why should our health be any different? In moving towards what is good, we move inadvertently towards what is true. As Danielle put simply, “Wellness is the state of being your authentic self.” 

 

And these aren’t new stories we’re uncovering. Many ancient practices of wellness have been reinterpreted for life in the 21st century. Take bath houses for example. In 2500 BC, the “Great Bath” functioned as both a community gathering place and a temple. In 2018, between the low-lying warehouses of Gowanus, cityWell brooklyn re-imagines the art of “taking the waters” for modern city dwellers. The space is unassuming from the outside, but after slipping off your shoes and venturing past the entrance, a sanctum awaits. Liz Tortolani, owner and visionary of the space, has crafted an island in a desert. That island being a collection of small shifts that speak to her passion for beauty, restoration, and the timeless pursuit of better living. 

For Liz, empowering wellness seekers to take an active role in the honoring of their bodies is the ultimate form of giving back. And her hope is that this becomes a lifestyle shift, not a once-a-year birthday treat. Wellness being a constant priority makes it preemptive, I learned. Stepping into cityWell feels like a collective exhale. Candles quietly wave, the sound of the warm baths blur out the traffic nearby, and the no shoe rule works to ground attendees in the moment at hand. And that moment is tranquil, safe, and shared. 

The five elements of Chinese medicine (wood, fire, earth, metal, and water) are all deftly woven into the space. Upon my second visit, Liz visited me in the sauna clutching a binder overflowing with magazine clippings, color palettes, and early business proposals. The evolution of cityWell took shape before my eyes as she explained how each piece manifested-the cork floors that cover the space, the candles from a local apothecary, the vines climbing above the whirlpool, the personal lockers for New Yorkers on the go, and the rain showers above head. The shared feeling of presentness that humid Tuesday morning, a collection of woman with all sorts of stories gathered in one place, was proof of her success. 

 

Community wove its way into every wellness related practice I visited. At Slope Wellness, a few avenues closer to the park, so did the no shoe rule. White noise machines and a clean, organized office space help instantly create an air of calm upon descent. A host of services, such as Jade Gua Sha Facials and yoga practices fill the multipurpose rooms every day. Here, acupuncture is offered in a group setting, as a nod to its ancient origins, but also as an attempt to provide a more affordable alternative. The practice was founded over five years ago in response to a space in the market for a wellness experience that extended beyond the occasional massage. CSA drops off produce here, rooms can be rented by the community, and health related products are curated for sale. Dawn Phillips, a devoted staff member, spoke again of the importance of empowering patients beyond the appointment, to pursue health at home. In our conversation, she explained how she defined wellness as “the mind, body, and spirit connection.” She spoke to the ancient understanding that these compenents can’t be divorced; that they are most powerful in tandem. When the client understand this, the work done at Slope Wellness has the potential to extend into empowered self care; the ability to pursue wellness at home. 

Her speciality, craniosacral therapy, is the work of talk and touch in releasing tension in the body, in some cases working to dislodge trauma. It seems the more aptly we embrace wellness, the more we open ourselves to conversations of the stories our bodies tell. Dawn noted that talking about trauma has become notably less taboo than it was historically. “We can start to change our reality,” she explained. That change, that shift in narrative, is at the root of all wellness. 

At the end of the day, wellness is as much a robust spa treatment as it is taking the long way through Prospect Park home from work. It’s about modifying, even in the slightest sense, our relationship towards our bodies. And it turns out wellness is often a practice best served in the company of others. It’s a state of mind, an intention. And the occasional green juice.

EAST, MEET WEST

By Filed Under: Healthy Living Tagged With: , , , , , , , , , ,

My first foray into Eastern Medicine and alternative healing therapies was at the age of twenty-eight. My body was shutting down, plagued with chronic fatigue and autoimmune disorder, I was desperate. I had been laughed at by gastroenterologists, endocrinologists, and various other -ologists, shipped from office to office as soon as I reached the edge of that particular doctor’s particular scope of knowledge. A vegetarian at the time, I was smugly told that a cheeseburger was “probably the answer to my issue.” Or worse, I was told that my “issue” didn’t really exist at all. But, intuitively I knew something wasn’t right. And so, I went on a quest for answers and for healing.

I am a skeptic by nature. An open-minded one, but a question asker. I always want to believe, but need to be shown a convincing argument in order to do so. Now, I am a practitioner in the realm of holistic health and nutrition myself, and I still like asking questions. But, I also still like being made to believe.

I’m no connoisseur of Traditional Chinese Medicine (TCM) and furthermore, no expert in acupuncture. But according to my research, acupuncture has been practiced in China for around 2,000 years, some experts even claiming that it’s been around much longer than that. And while the amount of time it’s been in use is up for conversation, so it seems, is its validity.

Like any good educated American doing research, I looked it up acupuncture on Wikipdedia. Of course, it mentions Traditional Chinese Medicine and explains the physical attributes that we all associate—thin needles being inserted at certain points on the body. But then it states, “…TCM theory and practice are not based upon scientific knowledge, and acupuncture has been described as a type of pseudoscience.” …hmmm.

The Mayo Clinic goes into more detail explaining acupuncture’s goal of balancing the flow of energy—known as qi (CHEE)—believed to flow through pathways—known as meridians—in the body. The Mayo Clinic also goes deeper, explaining acupuncture in terms of Western science, “…many Western practitioners view the acupuncture points as places to stimulate nerves, muscles, and connective tissue. Some believe that this stimulation boosts your body’s natural painkillers and increases blood flow.”

[pullquote]

the trusty Urban Dictionary calls acupuncture, “A jab well done”. And laugh if you will, but it may be beneficial to suspend disbelief when it comes to health, which we can all agree is no laughing matter.

[/pullquote]

I’ve always found an interesting tug-of-war between Eastern and Western medicine. They seem to exist in the world as mutually exclusive entities. A haughty, my-way-or-the-highway type of attitude coming from the West, and a softer more “look at me, ma! No hands!” sort of need for attention from the East. But like any true wanna-be-believer, I wonder if there’s validity to both arguments and a space where the two converge on even, healthy ground. And so in a quest, not unlike my personal one a few years back, I set out on foot, boots to Park Slope streets, to talk to a few practitioners and define acupuncture for myself.

My first stop was Brooklyn Acupuncture. I went up a small staircase and opened the door that was left propped for me after I rang the buzzer. As I waited in the tiny entrance area, out of one of the treatment rooms walked a woman a bit groggy and clearly in a relaxed state of being. Just after her, walked Zoe, all tattooed arms and chill vibes.

After setting up another appointment with her blissed-out patient, Zoe and I sat to chat. I learned she was once a dancer and baker in Portland, and years ago when she injured her back, acupuncture was the only thing that led her to find relief. Soon after, she decided to study.

It appears that her approach to wellness is as chill as her vibe. “Some people come in and want me to boss them around, give them strict rules. But, I don’t really work like that,” she said. Of the belief that extremes are part of our culture’s problem, she prefers a gentler approach. And, while she’s not against cutting things like dairy and gluten from the diets of some, she’s not the practitioner to put a patient into a box and take a singular course of action.

We chatted more about the state of health and the state of humans. We commiserated over our culture’s glorification of busy. Everyone’s living, “up here” she said, as she waved her hands above her head. “Even just sitting still and going into this rest-and-digest, meditative state, which acupuncture does, is probably incredibly beneficial for some.” But, Zoe emphasizes life outside of the treatment room, too, “diet and lifestyle is step one, that’s what keeps you well. Acupuncture and Chinese medicine is when that’s not enough.”

When I asked her about skeptics and non-believers, her response was simple, “not believing in it is like saying we don’t believe in what lots of other cultures have been using for lots of years.” And while she understands the importance of studies, she knows they can’t really be applied to acupuncture. “How do you do a double blind study on acupuncture? If you’re touching those points, you’re already energetically doing something,” she reasoned. A final chat about sugar in our food supply, I snapped a few pics and was on my way.

I walked quickly to make my next appointment. Garden Acupuncture’s office was big and much more medicinal in its feel. It sits on a main drag of the Slope, near some other health and wellness focused businesses. In the window, a large statue of Ganesh presides—the Hindu god of wisdom and good luck, known to clear obstacles and difficulties.

It isn’t clear at first, but throughout conversation it becomes evident that Alex and Lisa, the co-founders of Garden, are husband and wife, and they seem a balanced team—Alex answered questions technically with a formal and even cadence, while occasionally his wife would chime in with a warmer, more personal tone.

Garden has been around for seven years, and the two know their stuff. Alex started training with a doctor in his teen years after being treated personally, and then later he and Lisa met while in school in Ohio. They see patients for a variety of things, but their self-proclaimed specialty is fertility. “Personally, that’s all I do,” Alex said. When I mentioned that within the context of fertility, “success” is pretty definitive—you either you have an extra human or you don’t—they were very happy to tell me that their success rate is very high. “We’re happy to say we see a lot of extra humans,” Lisa said with a smile.

They employ many different types of TCM practitioners, are open late, and soon will be open seven days per week. This allows for frequency of visits, as they stress that acupuncture is accumulative and requires multiple and consistent treatments. It’s clear that the team is dedicated to becoming a neighborhood kind of place.

A few blocks walk and I arrived at what Helene Kostre has named, Acupuncture and Healing Arts of Park Slope. Upon walking in, the space is welcoming. Helene was warm, her thick Brooklyn accent a nice surprise. She feels familiar. I was offered water in a cute little paper cup, the kind I remember from the dentist when I was a kid. I was shown down the hall to the treatment rooms, and all elicited that same feel—oddly familiar and reminiscent of some distant relative’s home.

We sat down in her office in the back. Our conversation was very natural and flowing. You can tell she loves talking about health and alternative healing as much as I do. She made it clear pretty quickly that she incorporates many modalities in her approach to healing and attributes this to her realization that sometimes she “needs to go deeper, on an emotional, physical, spiritual level.” And so, she’s also proficient in nutritional counseling, emotional therapy, kinesiology, and what she calls, “clearing trauma.”

I quickly came to understand why she calls her practice, “Acupuncture and Healing Arts,” she takes a creative approach to an individual’s health and you can tell that she’s interested in figuring out the root cause of her patients’ ailments. “I treat the whole person because it’s all connected. The thing they came in for may be the last thing to get fixed. There are just so many layers.” She explained. And you get the sense that she sees layers that others don’t, “Everything is energy. It’s a flow.” She also mentioned the body’s innate ability to heal itself, but that there’s so much stress and so many environmental toxins that things go wrong and it gets past the point of knowing how. The body needs direction. Acupuncture, she says, and the rest of her work tap into the body’s natural ability to mend itself.

We talked about kinesiology and how miraculous I think it is. The use of muscle testing for diagnoses and treatment of the body is a bizarre approach that I probably wouldn’t believe if I hadn’t watched it work on my own flesh and bone. To me it was like magic, but Helene was less enchanted than I. To her, kinesiology just makes sense. “You aren’t testing the muscle,” she explained, “you aren’t testing strength, you’re testing the brain’s response to various nerve endings and muscles. The body—it’s all connected.” It doesn’t surprise me that Helene keeps using the word, “connected”.

My last stop was on the border of Gowanus. The entrance to Park Slope Acupuncture was the epitome of quaint. I knocked on the door and was greeted by a cheerful and animated, Sarah Rivkin. She welcomed me in and gave me surprisingly comfy slippers in exchange for leaving my shoes at the door. Her office is small, but like any good New York space, well executed. It was brightly colored and cheerful, and it made sense later in the meeting when she mentioned that pediatrics are one of her specialties.

She and I bonded a bit over our shared histories in the performing arts—she was an opera singer before going into TCM, and organically Opera fell away as her practice began to grow. Like the other practitioners, she seemed a bit skeptical of me when I mentioned skeptics. She, too, explained acupuncture with a Western twist, citing studies and putting it in the context of nerve endings and pathways, more so than qi and meridians.

Her pediatric specialty was intriguing. Sarah works with a lot of teenagers, because “there’s a lot of stress with school work and expectations.” It was nice to hear someone talk candidly about teens without rolling their eyes and mentioning hormonal shifts and erratic behavior. We all remember how hard it was being a teenager and, acupuncture aside, her presence and compassion I’m sure are welcomed by that age group.

A few more opera recommendations and we said goodbye. I had one more phone call with Kimberly Kulseng of Compass Acupuncture and Wellness before my research was complete. And, like the other practitioners, Kimberly, too, seemed a bit skeptical of me. The repeated caution I encountered made me wonder how often these practitioners have to explain or defend their chosen profession. Kimberly and I chatted about her offerings, as she also involves other modalities including reiki, and what she calls, “the usuals,” when it comes to TCM—Chinese herbs, moxibustion, cupping, and gua sha. She sees patients for a variety of things, but said she deals with a lot of stress management and anxiety. We agreed that life is very stressful these days.

When I asked her, “Why do you think acupuncture works?” She laughed loudly and warmly and replied, “Well that’s a loaded question!” Her explanation was familiar with reference to studies and nerve bundles. And, she went deeper to say that a lot of doctors are making the connection between acupuncture and the body’s fascia, or connective tissue. But what stuck out most in her explanation was that at one point, she took a moment to think, and then said, “You know, the body’s just a miracle. It sounds cheesy, but the human body is miraculous. How everything works synergistically. We take it for granted all the time.” I couldn’t argue with her there.

My acupuncture adventure over, I let the notes of the day settle in my mind as I found my way home. Visiting so many practitioners back to back highlighted differences that are less discernable with space and time. And the difference didn’t come in the form of experience, schooling, or the level of care that patients receive. It was more that each practitioner had such a specific vibe and (taking a tip from acupuncture) energy.

And energy is interesting. We have no problems talking about this force in our daily lives—about whether we have high energy or low energy, about the energy in a room, or the energy that’s given off by certain people. But for whatever reason, we bring that idea to the topic of health, and somehow it loses all relevance.

Our Western minds need science. Things like qi and meridians are uncommon, a stuff of magic, and maybe even nonsense. But every practitioner I spoke to had the same approach when explaining the stuff of acupuncture: “You bring it to the Western mind,” as Alex of Garden Acupuncture put it. He and his wife equated it to a circuit within your body and electricity. And Helene explained it like this, “you can send a text on your phone to print something from halfway around the world. You, personally, don’t know how it works. But it just does.”

So, it seems, that there might also be a fair amount of faith in acupuncture and alternative healing, accepting knowledge that can’t necessarily be explained with a double blind study and Harvard educated doctors. But when it comes to your health—when the worst adverse reactions to treatment are a little bruising and grogginess—it seems to make more sense to me to be skeptical of prescription medications than of acupuncture.

While you can say what you will about the science, there was one thing that stood out about all of the practitioners—they each exuded a deep willingness and hope that they can help. And sometimes, when you’re looking for answers, finding someone that’s on your team, listening, and fighting for you to win is enough. I don’t know how long I would have been sick if I hadn’t opened my mind to alternative schools of thought. And while Wikipedia may include “pseudoscience” in its definition, the trusty Urban Dictionary calls acupuncture, “A jab well done”. And laugh if you will, but it may be beneficial to suspend disbelief when it comes to health, which we can all agree is no laughing matter. I was a skeptic. And while I could look to explain acupuncture in terms of nerve endings and neurological pathways, Kimberly Kulseng put it best, “the body is a miracle.” And really, all the science aside, we simply can’t argue with what works.

Peeling Your Onion

By Filed Under: Healthy Living Tagged With: , ,

Deeper Levels of Spring Cleaning & Decluttering

red onion

This season I’m going to suggest you upgrade your spring cleaning regimen. I am not one to diminish the power of a de-cluttering session to create massive shifts in your well-being. Anyone who has ever dumped the entire contents of their closet on the floor and given garbage bags of clothes away knows this power intimately. But what I am going to suggest is that this spring you go one layer deeper. This season, while you spring clean, also focus on intentionally reorganizing your living space into a microenvironment that subtly shifts your behavior so you can achieve your health goals with ease and sustainability. Yes, I basically want your environment to trick you into being a healthy, happy person.

As a health coach, I am fascinated by human behavior and what facilitates lasting, behavior change. Almost every patient I’ve worked with has a genuine desire to be healthy and happy and also, seems to have about the same five health goals. They even know what they need to do to achieve those goals. Yet, only a fraction of them seem to be able to create the change they desire despite being motivated, intelligent people with lots of integrity. What gives?

No, I have not come to the conclusion that we are all just lazy and dishonest. As we learn more about human behavior, it appears we outsource a lot of our decision-making and behavior cues to external factors, rendering a large percentage of our decision making unconscious. Our brains seem to get decision fatigue rather quickly, so in order to save our brainpower for the really vital decisions, we form neural networks that ingrain daily decisions into habits that occur mostly on autopilot. Hence, willpower, while a nice idea, ends up being overrated and largely unreliable.

Habits are made up of a cue—routine and reward. Traditionally, we emphasize going straight to changing the routine with less emphasis on reworking the cue or replacing the reward. Without getting overly technical, a lot of exciting research is emerging that shows a lot of our behavior cues are housed in our external environment. It appears when we change our environment, we change our behavior with relative ease (For more information check out the recent NPR article on heroin addiction and Vietnam soldiers.) You can harness this phenomenon in your own home to achieve some of the most common and evasive health goals.

Here are my top three tips in order to make your home one big, health-inducing cue!

1. Create a designated meditation area in your home
The desire to sustain a regular meditation practice is one of the most common health goals people come to me with. In our fast paced world, it is increasingly vital to actively pursue relaxation and contemplation to cultivate healthy brains, nervous systems, and hearts (both physically and emotionally). In the health sphere, meditation continues to crop up as the latest panacea for our physical, mental, and esoteric ailments. How can our environments support building a sustainable meditation practice?
My number one tip is designating a location in your home as your meditation area (or corner or window). Start by pondering what kind of environment will seduce you into sitting down to practice. Don’t worry too much about size here. Placing a candle in a windowsill or the corner of a room counts. Put things that you love and that inspire you there. Keep it fresh and updated. Then meditate every day for about a month in that spot (even if just three minutes). By the end of this time period, you should have the start of a strong meditation habit with the help of this physical cue!

2. Hide your devices
These days, reducing screen time is something many of us strive to do. Despite acknowledging that our increase in screen time contributes to feelings of isolation and disconnection, many still feel powerless over our usage. While the rampant, nearly constant use of technology may feel inevitable and out of our control, we benefit enormously when we bring an element of conscious choice back to our tech habits. This allows us to make empowered decisions about how we’d like to engage with technology so it fosters intimacy and connection, rather than detracts from it.

To get a hold of your technological addictions, I recommend implementing a digital sunset at least one hour before you’d like to go to bed. To structure this ritual within your home environment, the concept of out of sight, out of mind is vital. Most of us don’t have that much control over our addiction to technology and need a physical barrier in order to not be lured back in. Designate a “hiding” spot for your devices. For phones, iPods and iPads, I suggest having a designated drawer or basket you put them in. For TVs and computers, cover them with a blanket. Next, pick a digital sunset time each day and stick to it.   To make this easier, I recommend linking this ritual to something you already do each day (this powerful technique is known as habit stacking). For example, shut down and hide your devices right after dinner or right before you brush your teeth. For extra credit, hide your devices when you eat as well.

Finally, focus on consciously replacing the “reward” you get from engaging with your beloved devices with something that feels like a worthy replacement. Perhaps this is your time to pursue something creative. Maybe it’s when you get to connect more deeply with your partner, read the stack of novels you’ve been meaning to get to, or a chance to get really into taking bubble baths. If nothing else, this habit will do wonders for your sleep as the light of screens impact our circadian rhythms by suppressing the release of the sleep promoting hormone melatonin.

3. Don’t bring unhealthy food into your home. If you do, hide it
This may seem a little extreme but if you are serious about changing your diet, this massively increases your odds of success. We encounter plenty of unhealthy food temptations in our daily lives operating in the birthplace of SAD, the notoriously awful and embarrassing Standard American Diet. If your home is a clean food zone, you will likely reach some semblance of balance. When healthy food is what’s most readily available and easily accessible, you’ll eat healthy foods. Seems like kind of a no-brainer but we often forget to harness this fact.  For example, when Google changed up their cafeteria so water and healthy beverages were at eye level and soda stored below—soda consumption dropped by 7 percent and water consumption increased by 47 percent. In other words, the default, easy choice is generally what we pick, so work this to your advantage!

Let’s come back to reward replacement.   If you have developed a habit of coming home and eating Ben and Jerry’s every night to activate your pleasure centers after a long day, make sure you are replacing it with a reasonable substitute that lights up the reward center at least a little bit. If I you try to go from eating Ben and Jerry’s every night to just drinking water, you better believe you’re going to find yourself at the nearest bodega buying more ice cream. Replacement of the reward is key as you build healthier habits because no one responds well to having something taken away without a decent replacement (including our brains!). You may be wondering, WTF could replace Ben and Jerry’s? Good question. Answer: Nothing! But you might try something like dark chocolate (70 percent or above for less sugar and more antioxidants), chocolate mousse made with bananas or tofu, coconut milk ice cream or fresh fruit.

Letting the Elephant in the Tent

By Leave a Comment Filed Under: Journey to Health Tagged With: , , , , ,

Full disclosure: towards the end of the fall, my editor assigned me a story on winter wellness.  At the time, I was in some of the best shape of my life.  I was about to run my third marathon, I was taking care of myself, eating right, going to bed early, and striking a nice balance between work and rest.  Then it all fell apart.  The day after I ran the Philadelphia marathon, my live-in boyfriend of nine years ended our relationship. There was very little explanation.  He was unhappy, we weren’t working anymore . . . it took all of two hours before my life, as I knew it, crumbled in front of me.

Just a few days before, I was obsessing over getting enough sleep, eating right, and abstaining from alcohol for one of the biggest physical challenges of my life, and now here I was, 48 hours later on the complete opposite side of the physical and mental health spectrum.  I spent the next couple of weeks couch surfing, living out of the trunk of my car, suffering panic attacks, and vomiting into trash cans.  My work was suffering and I had hit an all-time low—in body, mind, and spirit.  Perfect time to tackle an article on winter wellness, right?

The funny thing is, it probably was.  I was starting from ground zero and had to start building myself  back up.

The first leg of my journey landed me in the lobby of Brooklyn Boulders.  Not only was I sleep-deprived, but I hadn’t eaten in a couple of days.  I walked in, and truth be told, I was a little intimidated.  First thing in the morning and the place was already buzzing with smiling faces, lean bodies, and Wu Tang Clan thumping over the sound system.  But then I was warmly greeted by Luke Livesy, the curriculum director and all-around nice guy.  We plopped down on the couch and Luke started to share his own story about how he fell in love with the sport.  “I started climbing six years ago,” explained Luke.  “When I came here I started as a guy at the front desk, and then, well, eventually I ended up where I am now.”  He went on to explain his personal transition from skateboarder in England to rock climbing aficionado here in Brooklyn.

“So what do you think?  Are you ready to try it yourself?” he asked.  After a 20-minute crash course, I stared head on at the climbing wall looking skeptically at an alien puzzle of shapes and figures.  “You have to figure out your route,” he said.

So, not unlike a 3-year-old, I stood and tried to decipher the shapes and colors, figuring out where to start my ascent, where my next move would take me, and then the next.  I thought I had it all figured out.  And then . . . it came to actually doing it.

Turns out climbing the wall and looking at it are actually two very different things.  Once you’re up there, it’s very hard to see where to plant your feet.  In a bout of self-consciousness, I took my first grip.  My plan went out the window.  I needed to get to the top, but I was getting tired and terrified immediately.  My muscles weren’t used to this type of fast-twitch anaerobic challenge.  I wanted to give up right away.  But meanwhile, my buddy below offered encouragingly, “Hey there Nancy, you have a foothold there on your right.  Use that for support!”  (Is this sounding oddly metaphorical? Well, in my mind it did.  Thanks, Luke.)

So bit-by-bit, I made my less-than-graceful way to the top with a little guidance from my friend.  I was unsure of myself the entire time, ready to fall and embarrass myself, and each and every time, Luke cheered me on and pushed me to the next hold.  Eventually I was inches away from the top.  “Go for it, grab the top!”  My heart was racing and I had zero faith in my muscles to finish the task.  But then I did.  And there I was, clinging to the top of the wall like panicked spider monkey.  I solved the puzzle and made it.

By the way, when you free-climb, you have to get down.  “Luke!” “What DO I DO??!” I bellowed.

“Let Go!  I’ll help fix your fall!” he called back.  That was the best thing I’ve heard in a very long time.  I was about to let go and plummet to a mat of undisclosed thickness under me and I was going to just trust a man I met less than an hour ago.  I let go.

I didn’t bust my ass.  I didn’t bust anything, actually.  It felt really good to let go and just land.  Luke explained, “Children have less fear than we do.  They don’t brace themselves for impact.  Adults are the ones that need the most help learning how to fall.”  True story, brother.  I felt like I had been doing a lot of falling lately, and more than anything, I was terrified of getting hurt again.  Luke, not knowing me more than a half an hour, was ready to make sure that didn’t happen.

I highly suggest taking a lesson from the staff at Brooklyn Boulders.  Whether you’re familiar with the sport or are a complete newbie, a quick tutorial will unlock a lot of the mystery and alleviate some potential fears.  For complete beginners, you will learn the basics of how to move your body, and for more seasoned climbers, there’s such a wealth of experience and knowledge that you will be sure to refine your technique and take your game to the next level.  But no matter what, I recommend everyone give the sport a chance, as there’s no better feeling than making it to the top.

The next leg of the journey led me to the home of Michael McComiskey, a healer and practitioner of Qi Gong, and who I will forever refer to as the Park Slope Jedi Master.  I had nearly zero reference points when it came to Qi Gong, but the very first thing Michael taught me was that you can’t pronounce it unless your eyes are closed.  “It’s pronounced chi gong” Michael said with a chuckle.  So I closed my eyes, said chi gong, and then there I was ready to channel some new mojo with the help of a grinning man whose shirt read “Keep Calm and Use and The Force.”

“Qi is life force, and in Chinese, that is a very rich concept.  Qi manifests itself in many ways.  It’s your aliveness.  It’s also the level of energy you feel.  Your enthusiasm.  When your Qi is high, you’re optimistic, you’re vibrant.”  (My Qi was most definitely not high as of late. So I was intrigued about how to get it up again.)

Qi Gong is thousands of years old and was started by ancient Chinese shamans, or wu, and was later refined by Buddhist and Taoist monks.  Qi Gong is a three-fold concept, and as Michael explained, “it’s a physical wellness practice that literally produces healthiness.  It’s a meditative practice, as it’s very mind-calming and clearing.  And then it’s very much a Qi-cultivating practice.” The body has a steady stream of electrical currents pulsing through it constantly, and Qi Gong is all about channeling that energy to boost your energy, centeredness, and aliveness.

In fact, Michael referred to his practice as a form of healing, and not so much a fitness-related activity.  “The Chinese don’t believe in no pain, no gain.”  My ears perked up.  Getting through the marathon was all about working past the pain.  It was intense, taxing, even devastating at times.  Now, someone was telling me that I could achieve wellness through a peaceful and intuitive approach, working with my body, not against it.  It’s all built on slow, gentle, repetitive movements.  “The idea is that each movement has it’s own particular gift.  Over the past few thousands of years, people have figured out a lot of different ways to move and reap the benefits from the variations.”

While Qi Gong has hundreds of possible movements, we started with one simple exercise.  “Relax your knees, tilt your hips forward, round your neck slightly.  We are elongating the spine, and creating space for the energy to flow,” he began. We then took deep, long breaths, inhaling and exhaling slowly as we rocked back and forth from heal to toe, raising our arms with the inhale, lowering them with the exhale.  I felt it after the first few repetitions.  This was possibly the first time in weeks that I was able to breath fully.  Michael explained that when our bodies are full of anxiety and stress, it’s nearly impossibly to take a full, deep breath.  Having suffered several panic attacks as of late, this simple exercise was offering some much-needed release and relaxation.

In addition to exploring two practices for the mind and body, I mustn’t leave out what spending time with two new, kind faces did for the spirit.  Winter is a rough season for many of us, especially in the Northeast. Dramatic break-ups aside, 10 million people suffer from seasonal affective disorder every year, according to the National Institutes of Health, which also cites social isolation as a risk factor for depression in adults. Social interaction is an important form of self-care that should not go neglected even if all you want to do is stay inside and binge-watch Netflix alone.

Regardless of the hostile conditions outside, inside, or in my case, both, making space for new people and experiences is a simple way to improve our well-being during a time of year when we are vulnerable to sickness, depression, and boredom. Why not open yourself up to a new practice this winter? As Michael’s parting advice: “After the elephant enters the tent, the tent will never be the same again.”