For the last two days I have regretted the fact that every shirt I own is scoop or v-necked, because I have had no reasonable way to cover the terrific heat rash that has appeared all over my chest.
If my Ayurvedic doctor read this, he would be very disappointed. ("My" being a bit of a stretch, as I've only been to see him once, and haven't really done a very good job of following his edicts...hence the disappointment). He told me! He told me that Los Angeles was aggravatting my Pitta self ("You have to remember, you're living in a desert..") and that I needed to do my best to cool down all that excess heat. He told me. He told me it wouldn't require all that much...cut back on the spicy foods, cut out the ice-cold drinks (this seems like a contradiction, but apparently ice-cold stuff heats a body up), cut out the coffee, do some coconut oil massage, take it a little easy in yoga class (not too much of the crazy stuff)...meditate, meditate, meditate. Basically...chill the f*&! out.
Yes, sir, doctor, sir!
Cut to: yours truly starting every morning with an iced latte and a cliff bar, rounding out the day with a bowl of piping hot spicy tom kah soup, kicking my own ass in yoga class, sticking the coconut oil in the way back of the bathroom shelf and, oh yeah, did I mention cutting WAY down on my daily water intake?
Um, wait. What?
So, yes, two days ago my chest exploded in a heat rash. And even though at the moment the heat rash appeared I was also dealing with a leaking bedroom, a broken kitchen sink, failing brakes, an absentee sublettor and an ant infestation, somehow the idea that my skin is no longer as perfect as it once was is what dissolved me into a wet sobbing mess.
What do they call that, again? Oh right...vanity.
I think what really sent me over the edge was asking myself "what is the lesson in all of this?" every time each new minor crises appeared. I don't think there is anything more aggravatting than feeling completely screwed by ones day and then asking oneself in a fake-y detached voice what the lesson is in all of this? The only readily available lesson at that moment is that if that voice doesn't stop asking what the lesson is there is going to be some serious trouble.
What's the lesson?! This apartment sucks and I should no longer go out in public! That's the lesson, you a-hole!
Now that I've had a few days, I have a slightly (note it, "slightly") larger view on the whole situation. Or at least, these are the things that strike me:
That all of my immediate problems seem to be due to an excess of heat, and that the advice I have been given has been to try and "chill", and that learning how to chill is the lesson I perhaps need to learn more than any other. That I have moved to this desert city to enact some large push towards an even larger goal and that the seat of the will (necessary for accomplishing said goal) is also the seat of fire in the body. And lastly, that the parts of my body affected by my heat-related skin eruptions are my forehead and my chest, which are also the places of the intuition and of the heart...whether that means I am paying too much attention or not enough attention to those places is anyone's guess.
All I can say for sure is that there is fire in me and it is trying to get out, and it may be time to actually commit to dousing some of those flames. And I will try to begin by being grateful to my body for attempting this vivid, complicated, mysterious communication with me. A speaker I really love often says, "if you ignore it, don't worry, it will get bigger!"
I am happy that there is fire in me...I want fire. I just don't want it to burn the entire house down. I'm going to go apologize to my Ayurvedic doctor now, and have a glass of water...no ice.