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As long as I’ve been studying health, there’s been an ongoing argument about the role of dairy products in human nutrition. If you do a quick Google search for inflammatory foods you’ll find that most of the web “experts” out there put milk and cheese on their Bad list. Many naturally-oriented healthcare practitioners believe that cow milk has no place in a healthy diet, frequently citing the fact that it’s a substance designed to make a calf gain more than a hundred pounds in its first few months of life – which is meant to prove that it’s suitable only for baby cows. I’ve used this example myself in my nutrition course, but I’m ready to revise it.
While I’ve never been one to demonize dairy (yogurt is probably my favorite food), I think I’ve been too hasty to accept negative viewpoints about it, and I believe the truth of it isn’t nearly as black-and-white as people want to make it. So I’d like to offer you a more balanced examination of dairy today.
First, let’s look at what the oldest sources say on the matter. In Traditional Chinese Medicine, milk products are considered to be moistening and fortifying to the body, though potentially to the point of causing phlegm when consumed in excess – and excess could be very little, depending on the person. Also, its ability to produce congestion is considered to more pronounced if it’s consumed cold.
In Ayurvedic Medicine (the traditional medical system of India), milk is said to deeply nourish the body, to build mass, balance the emotions, and to be cooling and grounding. Especially in light of Hindus’ reverence for cows, milk is considered to be an exceedingly special food. Along with honey, it’s revered as one of the only foods that can be consumed with no “violence” since it’s not a living organism. It may be excellent for, say, a skinny, anxious person (vata dominance) but perhaps not so good for an overweight, congested person (kapha dominance). Consumed in large amounts, cold, or by someone for whom “building mass” isn’t appropriate, it has the ability to cause phlegm or toxicity. Also, it is recommended that milk be drunk apart from other foods.
It bears mentioning that throughout most of the history of both of these medical systems, there was no mass dairy production, refrigeration, pasteurization, homogenization, antibiotic or hormone use in cattle, and cows ate grass – not grains and soybeans. In Ayurveda, milk is usually prescribed warm, raw, unhomogenized, and in moderation. Because of its relatively rich and heavy nature, consuming it with the addition of warming spices such as cinnamon, cardamom, black pepper, turmeric, or ginger helps to make it more readily digestible.
The perspectives of these holistic systems highlight an important point – what it does to a person depends largely on (1) the person and (2) the way the milk is prepared and consumed. Think about how milk is presented to the baby for whom it was created – warm, unpasteurized, unhomogenized, and in a format that supports slow consumption. It’s reasonable to consider that rapidly downing a glass of cold, processed milk is quite a different experience for the body.
Despite the differences, however, several recent studies show that even the consumption of modern, processed dairy products generally has no inflammatory effect, and may even have an anti-inflammatory effect. For instance, a 2015 study called Dairy Products and Inflammation: A Review of the Clinical Evidence reviewed 52 clinical trials that looked at inflammatory markers in relationship to dairy consumption. In people who were specifically allergic to cow’s milk, there was an inflammatory response, but in those without an allergy, milk consumption decreased markers of inflammation.
The key here, then, is to determine if you’re allergic to milk. Often, but not always, you can figure this out by simply cutting all dairy products out of your diet for at least two weeks. If you feel better, this is a decent indication that your body doesn’t love dairy – at least, in the way you were consuming it before. Then, reintroduce it in generous amounts and see how you feel. If your energy declines or your skin gets itchy or you get phlegmy or anything else unpleasant happens, it’s likely a problematic food for you, and more investigation is warranted.
If you don’t experience any change, it might be safe to say your body handles dairy okay. But for a really clear test, I recommend cutting out not just dairy, but all common culprits in food sensitivities – wheat, corn, soy, eggs, beans, nuts, onions, garlic, and even fruit – eating a very clean, simple diet (you can look up “elimination diet” for more ideas) for two weeks and then, against this blank canvas, reintroduce dairy. Your body’s response should be more obvious.
If this elimination diet is too hardcore for you, but you’re willing to go one step further than just cutting out dairy, I recommend cutting out both dairy and gluten (wheat, barley, rye, oats – unless certified gluten free) at the same time, since some nutritionists have theorized that gluten sensitivity heightens dairy sensitivity by causing changes to the gut.
If you discover through your self-experimentation that you don’t feel well with dairy, do some more experimenting to determine if it’s all dairy or just certain forms. Try yogurt – both full-fat and non-fat. Try butter. Try plain milk. Try cheese – both soft cheeses and hard cheeses. If you’re accustomed to consuming conventional brands of dairy, give the organic, grass-fed stuff a try. See if you notice any difference in how these different forms of dairy make you feel. It requires paying more attention to your body and mind than you may be accustomed to, but there’s a big payoff to tuning in this way.
Even if you’re not technically allergic to it (meaning, mounting an immune response to it), you may still be “sensitive” to it. Sensitivities to foods are something milder than a true allergy, and are rarely investigated in a scientific way, so it’s difficult to say what’s really going on physiologically. But I’ve definitely seen many cases of dairy sensitivity – people who develop symptoms of irritation when they consume it. It’s especially common in young kids. When I encounter a child with a chronic skin rash or recurrent ear infections, dairy sensitivity is the first thing that comes to mind. Frequently this sensitivity disappears as the child grows up.
One thing the studies and most zealots on either side of the issue don’t tend to account for is human variability. Factors such as your ethnicity and blood type, and even the climate you live in, can influence how you’re affected by certain foods. If your ancestors dined on dairy for centuries, chances are you’re fairly tolerant of it. If your ancestors came from a place – like China – where dairy has not been a prominent part of local cuisine, you may have more difficulty with it. Peter D’Adamo covers this topic to some extent in the blood type diet book, Eat Right 4 Your Type.
Finally, many of the negatives attributed to dairy come down to quality. I’ve had numerous patients tell me they don’t handle conventional dairy products well, but they do just fine with the good stuff.
Cows are made to eat grass – like an all day salad – and this is highly significant. Their four stomachs and the chewing of their cud are specific adaptations to an all-grass diet. It’s what they thrive on. When instead we feed them corn and soybeans, the nutritional quality and flavor of their milk (and meat) are diminished. When we give them hormones in order to extend the period they can be milked after giving birth, this degrades the quality of their milk (this has been proven in court, despite the persistence of that FDA statement that there is no difference between the milk of cows that are and aren’t treated with growth hormone). When we pasteurize their milk in order to kill bacteria that may be present, we damage its enzymes and probably reduce its nutritional value. And when we homogenize it so it won’t separate, we break the fat globules into tiny particles that do not occur naturally, and this seems to detrimentally affect how we utilize the nutrients in it.
These factors considered, although the studies don’t seem to support the blanket negative allegations against it, it still seems worthwhile to consume dairy products in as close to their natural form as we can get them. Therefore, if your body handles milk products well, feel free to consume them. Ignore the zealots. And, when possible, have them fresh, organic, raw or cultured, and warm. I know it’s a bit unusual for many people to have milk, yogurt, or cottage cheese warm, so if that seems unpalatable, consider taking a tip from Ayurveda and mix in a small amount of some warming spice (cardamom, cinnamon, ginger, or turmeric).
What’s your story with dairy? Tell me about it in the comments below. Oh, and as for that idea that “milk is meant to make a cow gain a hundred pounds in a few months,” here’s a simple reason for that: by three weeks old, most calves are consuming about 11 quarts (that’s almost 3 gallons) per day.
Be well,
Dr. Peter Borten
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This Saturday is the beginning of the Chinese New Year. One year ago, I remember thinking about the approaching Year of the Fire Monkey and wondering how it would play out. The monkey, much like Curious George, is known for causing havoc. And given the particular elemental qualities at play, experts of feng shui and the Chinese zodiac predicted a year of strong personalities, violent clashes, craziness, trickery, and turning convention on its head. Just picture a couple of monkeys on fire running around in your house.
I don’t put a tremendous amount of stock into these predictions. In fact, I usually forget about them a few weeks into the year. But in 2016, I often found myself distracted by the political theatrics despite myself. It reminded me of the time a monkey jumped on me in Mexico and firmly latched onto my ear with its sharp little teeth. Not only was it uncomfortable, it was quite difficult for me to extract myself from the situation.
Of course, there’s no way to prove that the events of 2016 were caused by its Chinese zodiac attributes, but if the Fire Monkey helps us frame our understanding of the year in a useful way, I think it has served its purpose. Or at least it makes us curious about the next animal.
On January 28th, we enter the Year of the Fire Rooster. Each of the different animals is a symbol for a natural dynamic; some of the interpretations are intuitive and others are a bit of a stretch. In the case of the rooster, let’s start with the one thing everyone knows about roosters by the time they’re three years old. When they see the sun rise, they yell, “Cock-a-doodle-doo!” I believe this translates roughly to, “Wake up!”
Second, they roost. That is, they sit up on something high and watch over several nests. From their roosting spot, they have a position of vision. In numerous spiritual traditions, the rooster is regarded as an intermediary of communication with the Divine; perhaps this notion comes from the high and watchful position the rooster occupies. When the roosting rooster sees something he doesn’t like (such as another rooster moving in), he yells some more.
Third, they fight. Roosters are naturally aggressive toward other roosters, a fact exploited around the world in cockfighting. Roosters are groomed and modified – sometimes with blades attached to their legs – where this blood sport is popular. In Bali, cockfighting is actually a religious ritual (“tabuh rah”) – the losing bird is considered a sacrifice to appease evil spirits – performed at every temple.
The element of the year combines with the animal to color its influence. This year it’s fire, and I think that’s a good sign. Fire’s nature is to illuminate. Its ability to shed light into the darkest corners heralds a time of transparency and clarity.
So, how can we interpret these characteristics as we look hopefully toward the coming year? Well, as I see it, there are two kinds of roosters: the evolved rooster and the base rooster. One proclaims the return of the light and tells everyone to wake up. The other sees only enemies and opportunities to assert his dominance. One roosts up high and views the big picture. The other struts around on the ground looking for a fight.
Each of us has the potential to embody the qualities of an evolved rooster or a base rooster, and I’m betting that we’re going to lean more toward evolution this year. It’s time to wake up.
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When I was a teenager, I invested $400 in 20 years of anger and a big, hard, life-changing lesson. I had seen this guy around – a friend of a friend named Justin – carrying the exact model of guitar that I wanted, and there was a rumor that he was looking to sell it. I tracked him down in a parking lot by the beach where high schoolers hung out on summer nights.
He was among a group of kids smoking cigarettes on a Mexican blanket in the back of a van. As I approached them, he nodded at me in recognition, and I asked him about the guitar. He said he had paid $800 for the instrument but was willing to let it go for half of that because he needed money fast. So fast, in fact, that he wanted me to pay him for it on the spot even though he didn’t have the guitar with him. That way, he explained, he would know I was serious about it and he wouldn’t sell it to another guy that he had already promised it to. I went home and returned with my money, which I handed over, and he agreed to meet me at a coffee shop the next morning with the guitar.
Only, as you can probably guess, he didn’t show up.
I found out where he lived and went to his house. He answered the door flanked by a large, red-faced man several years older than us who looked twitchy, and had scabs on his knuckles. I asked for the guitar.
“What guitar?” Justin replied. “Are you talking about my cousin’s guitar?”
“Yeah,” the man asked, “are you talking about my guitar?” and he pointed to the guitar, which lay on a dirty couch behind them.
“Well it’s my guitar actually,” I stated, trying to sound tougher than I felt. “I paid Justin 400 bucks for it yesterday.”
“Why would you make up a story like that?” his cousin challenged, sneering to reveal a mouthful of broken teeth. “He can’t sell my guitar. Can you, Justin?”
“Nope,” said Justin. “I barely know this loser.”
“Did this little boy give you 400 bucks?” Cousin asked.
“Of course not. Cuz then I’d have 400 bucks. But I’m broke, see?” and he pulled out his wallet and opened it to show that it was empty.
“Well then,” said Cousin, turning back to me, “it looks like you just came here to try to cheat us and that’s not very nice.”
“You’re the ones who are cheating me!” I countered, but my instincts were telling me that no good would come out of pushing this.
“Is this little boy threatening us at our own house, Justin?” Cousin asked.
“It kinda sounds like it,” Justin replied. “It kinda sounds like he wants to fight.” The two of them edged toward me.
“I don’t want to fight,” I said, “I just want the guitar that I paid for.”
“If you don’t want trouble,” said Cousin, “then get off our porch and don’t show your face around here again.”
So I left.
At that age, in that time and place, I believed that getting an adult involved – even one with a badge – simply wasn’t an option. Not solving your own problems was looked down upon, and there was no real escape from retribution for squealing in a small town. No, the only way to manage such an issue was to beat someone up. My guy friends said things like, “You need to go back over there and pound the money out of him!” But I was a skinny pacifist and Justin and his cousin were the burly sons of lobstermen. I suggested that maybe a whole gang of us could visit Justin’s house, but my friends sheepishly declined, murmuring things like, “I don’t have any beef with him . . .”
I only encountered Justin once more in person. I ran into him at a restaurant a few months later, where he was sitting at a table with his friends (no Cousin, luckily). I walked over to him and said, “You still owe me 400 bucks.”
“Yeah?” he replied, “Get in line. I owe money to a lot of people.” And at this he shrugged and looked to his friends who all laughed and started yelling out how much he owed them.
I wish I could say that was the end of it, but I had hundreds – no, thousands – of encounters with him in my mind during and after this time. The incident generated many negative conclusions: that I was an idiot, that people are bad and untrustworthy, that I was weak, that Boston is full of thugs, that I wasn’t manly, that I couldn’t count on my friends, and so on. I had daydreams in which I would imagine myself destroying his life, or going back with a gun or a knife and getting my money, or stealing the guitar.
Sometimes I would forget about the whole thing for a month or six months or a year, but whenever I remembered it again I still felt upset.
It was many years before I entertained the idea of forgiveness. I didn’t like him and I didn’t want to give him anything he didn’t deserve, but I was beginning to get a sense of just how much my own resentment had poisoned me. So I tried it. I said to myself, “I forgive Justin for stealing my money,” and I felt a little relieved.
But shortly thereafter, I caught myself replaying the story and feeling angry. I hadn’t let it go. I was frustrated. I forgave him again. And then I caught myself again. And I repeated this cycle a few more times before a deeper understanding began to dawn on me.
First, I decided that it would be worth $400 to really let this go. So I reframed it – I decided I was letting him have the $400 willingly so that I could just be done with this. I hoped that if I could convince myself that I was choosing this, there would be nothing to resent.
Unfortunately, this strategy wasn’t enough to help me get over the whole thing, but there was value in being rational about the various costs and payoffs involved. I was getting nothing but pain for my $400 as long as I held onto my story. And, Briana once reminded me, if I had taken on those guys: “You would have been paying four hundred dollars to get your butt kicked.”
Second, I discovered that forgiveness is almost always a many-layered process and constitutes more work than we tend to expect. In my case, I had some anger about having gotten ripped off, but I was gradually getting to a place where $400 wasn’t that much money. The actual theft wasn’t the biggest thing. More bothersome was the sense that my instincts were wrong, that I was helpless, that I was a wimp, and especially that I should have done something differently.
I looked long and hard at all of this, and it took me on a deeper journey into my psyche that revealed that these thoughts all had deeper roots. There was a certain mistrust for the world that was important to recognize, but more importantly, a mistrust of myself, and lots of self-blame. I systematically unearthed everything I found and forgave it all.
Third, I realized that true forgiveness is not a single act, but a commitment. I’ve written about this idea in several articles and books, but never before told the story that led me to it. Until I had this revelation, I believed that a proper act of forgiveness should last forever and the resentment should never come back. Thus, I had also some self-blame around not having forgiven correctly, since it wasn’t sticking.
Then I learned that the “correct” way to forgive is to make an agreement with myself that I am going to forgive over and over, as many times as it takes. It’s also an agreement to be mindful enough to notice when I’ve picked up my resentment again, to stop indulging in it, and let it go once more.
So, in the end, perhaps $400 was a bargain for the insights I finally got.
What have you invested in (whether with dollars, energy, time, or some other commodity) that has thus far yielded only pain? Is it possible to reframe it such that you offer to willingly give what has already been given – in exchange for growth, insight, and freedom?
Where is forgiveness in order? Besides the most obvious object of forgiveness, what sub-resentments exist? (It’s worth getting a pen and paper for this, since it might be a long list.) Are you willing to make a lifelong commitment to forgive and thus be freed from a story that has kept you enslaved? It’s heroism, truly.
Be well,
Dr. Peter Borten
[post_title] => I Got My Butt Kicked for Only $400
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As long as I’ve been studying health, there’s been an ongoing argument about the role of dairy products in human nutrition. If you do a quick Google search for inflammatory foods you’ll find that most of the web “experts” out there put milk and cheese on their Bad list. Many naturally-oriented healthcare practitioners believe that cow milk has no place in a healthy diet, frequently citing the fact that it’s a substance designed to make a calf gain more than a hundred pounds in its first few months of life – which is meant to prove that it’s suitable only for baby cows. I’ve used this example myself in my nutrition course, but I’m ready to revise it.
While I’ve never been one to demonize dairy (yogurt is probably my favorite food), I think I’ve been too hasty to accept negative viewpoints about it, and I believe the truth of it isn’t nearly as black-and-white as people want to make it. So I’d like to offer you a more balanced examination of dairy today.
First, let’s look at what the oldest sources say on the matter. In Traditional Chinese Medicine, milk products are considered to be moistening and fortifying to the body, though potentially to the point of causing phlegm when consumed in excess – and excess could be very little, depending on the person. Also, its ability to produce congestion is considered to more pronounced if it’s consumed cold.
In Ayurvedic Medicine (the traditional medical system of India), milk is said to deeply nourish the body, to build mass, balance the emotions, and to be cooling and grounding. Especially in light of Hindus’ reverence for cows, milk is considered to be an exceedingly special food. Along with honey, it’s revered as one of the only foods that can be consumed with no “violence” since it’s not a living organism. It may be excellent for, say, a skinny, anxious person (vata dominance) but perhaps not so good for an overweight, congested person (kapha dominance). Consumed in large amounts, cold, or by someone for whom “building mass” isn’t appropriate, it has the ability to cause phlegm or toxicity. Also, it is recommended that milk be drunk apart from other foods.
It bears mentioning that throughout most of the history of both of these medical systems, there was no mass dairy production, refrigeration, pasteurization, homogenization, antibiotic or hormone use in cattle, and cows ate grass – not grains and soybeans. In Ayurveda, milk is usually prescribed warm, raw, unhomogenized, and in moderation. Because of its relatively rich and heavy nature, consuming it with the addition of warming spices such as cinnamon, cardamom, black pepper, turmeric, or ginger helps to make it more readily digestible.
The perspectives of these holistic systems highlight an important point – what it does to a person depends largely on (1) the person and (2) the way the milk is prepared and consumed. Think about how milk is presented to the baby for whom it was created – warm, unpasteurized, unhomogenized, and in a format that supports slow consumption. It’s reasonable to consider that rapidly downing a glass of cold, processed milk is quite a different experience for the body.
Despite the differences, however, several recent studies show that even the consumption of modern, processed dairy products generally has no inflammatory effect, and may even have an anti-inflammatory effect. For instance, a 2015 study called Dairy Products and Inflammation: A Review of the Clinical Evidence reviewed 52 clinical trials that looked at inflammatory markers in relationship to dairy consumption. In people who were specifically allergic to cow’s milk, there was an inflammatory response, but in those without an allergy, milk consumption decreased markers of inflammation.
The key here, then, is to determine if you’re allergic to milk. Often, but not always, you can figure this out by simply cutting all dairy products out of your diet for at least two weeks. If you feel better, this is a decent indication that your body doesn’t love dairy – at least, in the way you were consuming it before. Then, reintroduce it in generous amounts and see how you feel. If your energy declines or your skin gets itchy or you get phlegmy or anything else unpleasant happens, it’s likely a problematic food for you, and more investigation is warranted.
If you don’t experience any change, it might be safe to say your body handles dairy okay. But for a really clear test, I recommend cutting out not just dairy, but all common culprits in food sensitivities – wheat, corn, soy, eggs, beans, nuts, onions, garlic, and even fruit – eating a very clean, simple diet (you can look up “elimination diet” for more ideas) for two weeks and then, against this blank canvas, reintroduce dairy. Your body’s response should be more obvious.
If this elimination diet is too hardcore for you, but you’re willing to go one step further than just cutting out dairy, I recommend cutting out both dairy and gluten (wheat, barley, rye, oats – unless certified gluten free) at the same time, since some nutritionists have theorized that gluten sensitivity heightens dairy sensitivity by causing changes to the gut.
If you discover through your self-experimentation that you don’t feel well with dairy, do some more experimenting to determine if it’s all dairy or just certain forms. Try yogurt – both full-fat and non-fat. Try butter. Try plain milk. Try cheese – both soft cheeses and hard cheeses. If you’re accustomed to consuming conventional brands of dairy, give the organic, grass-fed stuff a try. See if you notice any difference in how these different forms of dairy make you feel. It requires paying more attention to your body and mind than you may be accustomed to, but there’s a big payoff to tuning in this way.
Even if you’re not technically allergic to it (meaning, mounting an immune response to it), you may still be “sensitive” to it. Sensitivities to foods are something milder than a true allergy, and are rarely investigated in a scientific way, so it’s difficult to say what’s really going on physiologically. But I’ve definitely seen many cases of dairy sensitivity – people who develop symptoms of irritation when they consume it. It’s especially common in young kids. When I encounter a child with a chronic skin rash or recurrent ear infections, dairy sensitivity is the first thing that comes to mind. Frequently this sensitivity disappears as the child grows up.
One thing the studies and most zealots on either side of the issue don’t tend to account for is human variability. Factors such as your ethnicity and blood type, and even the climate you live in, can influence how you’re affected by certain foods. If your ancestors dined on dairy for centuries, chances are you’re fairly tolerant of it. If your ancestors came from a place – like China – where dairy has not been a prominent part of local cuisine, you may have more difficulty with it. Peter D’Adamo covers this topic to some extent in the blood type diet book, Eat Right 4 Your Type.
Finally, many of the negatives attributed to dairy come down to quality. I’ve had numerous patients tell me they don’t handle conventional dairy products well, but they do just fine with the good stuff.
Cows are made to eat grass – like an all day salad – and this is highly significant. Their four stomachs and the chewing of their cud are specific adaptations to an all-grass diet. It’s what they thrive on. When instead we feed them corn and soybeans, the nutritional quality and flavor of their milk (and meat) are diminished. When we give them hormones in order to extend the period they can be milked after giving birth, this degrades the quality of their milk (this has been proven in court, despite the persistence of that FDA statement that there is no difference between the milk of cows that are and aren’t treated with growth hormone). When we pasteurize their milk in order to kill bacteria that may be present, we damage its enzymes and probably reduce its nutritional value. And when we homogenize it so it won’t separate, we break the fat globules into tiny particles that do not occur naturally, and this seems to detrimentally affect how we utilize the nutrients in it.
These factors considered, although the studies don’t seem to support the blanket negative allegations against it, it still seems worthwhile to consume dairy products in as close to their natural form as we can get them. Therefore, if your body handles milk products well, feel free to consume them. Ignore the zealots. And, when possible, have them fresh, organic, raw or cultured, and warm. I know it’s a bit unusual for many people to have milk, yogurt, or cottage cheese warm, so if that seems unpalatable, consider taking a tip from Ayurveda and mix in a small amount of some warming spice (cardamom, cinnamon, ginger, or turmeric).
What’s your story with dairy? Tell me about it in the comments below. Oh, and as for that idea that “milk is meant to make a cow gain a hundred pounds in a few months,” here’s a simple reason for that: by three weeks old, most calves are consuming about 11 quarts (that’s almost 3 gallons) per day.
Be well,
Dr. Peter Borten
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Thanks Dr Peter , just what I needed to hear today 😊
You’re welcome!
open your heart everyone! This is the perfect video, Thank you
thank YOU!
Well spoken!
Thanks, Sadie
Thank you for your insight and the wonderful reminder 💜 to open our hearts & speak Love & practice spreading it in our own bodies and to others!
You’re welcome, Jill!
I really enjoyed listening to this, Peter! How does this work with keeping one’s energy, though–what you and Briana write about in The Well Book? That is, how does one share one’s light and be open without sapping our strength, especially in difficult and challenging circumstances (or around difficult people etc.)
Thank you!
Hi Amy,
Sharing one’s light is something different than giving one’s personal energy away. Light is really neither a personal nor exhaustible thing. It’s more just Light rather than “your light.” And this works best when you imagine that you’re just a channel for it. I like to have my patients imagine a stream of light funneling into the back, right behind the heart, and then shining out of the heart in the front. As if the heart is an open flower, smiling on the world. And this works better, of course, if you image the heart being wide open. I think a big part of what makes such an expression non-depleting is that there’s no attachment to personal gain or a specific outcome. You get sapped when you’re intent on manipulating your circumstances and when there’s resistance involved. Even if it’s for the purpose of making someone else feel better, if you’re thinking, “I can’t let you feel this way,” – “I can’t” – “this is wrong” – “I don’t accept this” – “No” – and there’s tension/constraint in your body and mind, it will be depleting to you. If instead you BECOME a beacon of light and your (perhaps unverbalized) communication is, “I am here for you,” or “I am present to this,” you’re just acting as an emissary of Love. Then, not only will you not be depleted, good things will happen. You’ll receive what you give.
Thank you for this explanation, Peter. It’s very very helpful.