How to nourish ourselves during Winter
Ever wonder why your skin, eyes, scalp, or ears get dry in the Winter? Why there is so much static in the air, or why your nasal passages feel almost crispy? For those of us who live in the Northern hemisphere, especially in cooler climates, we are shoulder deep in Vata season, that stretch between mid fall and late winter, and here in the North country that means dry, brisk air, cold winds, and shifty temperatures: one day it’s 25 degrees and snowing, and the next it’s -7 in the sunshine under a gorgeous blue sky. One day I’m looking out at a blizzard, swirls of snow traveling like mini tornadoes over the field, my windows rimmed with ice crystals; the next day the sky is robin’s egg blue, and it’s blustery! Every once in awhile the house shakes with a tremendous gust of wind, and then a minute later the air seems to be silent. Bottom line: Vata season is changeable, and that makes it challenging for us to stay balanced in body, mind, and spirit!
A quick Ayurveda primer that will help here:
What are the 3 doshas? This is actually a bigger conversation than I want to get into today, so let’s keep it simple: Ayurveda, which is the traditional medical system of India, has delineated three categories of fundamental regulatory principles of the body, mind, and behavior. These categories are called doshas; they are Vata, Pitta, and Kapha. The word dosha, at its roots, means imbalance or “that which can cause problems.” Today we will look at the first of these.
Vata dosha is comprised of ether (space) and air (wind), and its qualities are: cold, mobile, dry, flowing, spacious, and light. It governs movement in the body, including the flow of our breath and blood, it is responsible for our creativity, and it plays a large roll in nervous system function. So for anyone who has been experiencing insomnia, a burst of creativity, dryness in the colon, anxiety or worry, or rough, flaky skin, this post is for you!
Even though balancing Vata can be challenging, adopting a self-care routine can help us feel grounded, nurtured, more hydrated, and calmer. Who couldn’t use at least one or two of those benefits?
Here are my top 5 self care practices for Vata season:
1. Hot Lemon Water: Drinking hot water with lemon first thing in the morning is warming, detoxifying, and helps to move the bowels early in the day. Lemons are well known for their high levels of Vitamin C which boosts our immune system; they aid in digestion, and they are high in potassium, which supports brain and nervous system health, and so much more!
HOW TO: Boil a cup of water and add the juice of 1/4 to 1/2 organic lemon. Sip slowly first thing in the morning before taking any food.
Enjoy the many benefits! I suggest brushing teeth after lemon water, which is acidic and can affect tooth enamel.
2. Oral Care: Brushing and flossing go without saying for most of us, but if you can add tongue scraping and oil swishing, then you have an amazing routine that can help eliminate bad breath, clear the tongue of that gunky junk, support dental hygiene, and even whiten teeth!
HOW TO: Brush and floss as normal, first thing in the morning. Gently scrape your tongue with a stainless steel tongue scraper (or you can use the edge of a spoon), and notice what kind of gunk (if any) is on your tongue. The more gunk, the more junk there is in your digestive and elimination systems, and perhaps even in other tissues of your body, which often shows up as inflammation. After running the scraper gently over your tongue several times to remove the icky coating, rinse under water. Repeat if needed. Clean scraper and store with your toothbrush to remind you to use it every day!
Now for the oil swish: Measure out a tablespoon of sesame oil and swish it in the mouth for about 10 minutes. If this is challenging at first, do 5 minutes, then increase the time. Spit the spent oil in the trash can. If you don’t have sesame oil, olive or coconut will do, but you might need to warm the coconut oil, as it begins to solidify below 70 degrees F.
NOTE: I sometimes scrape my tongue before I drink my hot water, then I go back and do the rest of my oral care, post lemons. You do not need to brush after oil swishing–it’s actually supportive to tooth enamel.
3. Self oil massage: Called Abhyanga in Ayurveda, self oil massage is a wonderful way to hydrate and nourish the skin from the outside in, to take peaceful time for ourselves away from the stress of the day, to calm our nerves and just be, and to enjoy the overall grounding effect the oil has on our body and mind.
HOW TO: Place 1/4 cup oil in a glass container, and warm the container in a bowl of hot water. Always use organic oils; sesame is great for balancing Vata as the most warming oil, peaceful olive oil is good for all types, and coconut is the most cooling of all the oils (not the best in the dead of winter); or use a blended oil from my favorite Ayurveda company, Banyan Botanicals
While your oil is warming, take a hot shower to clean your body and open up your pores. Dry off, and while you are still warm, massage the oil on your body in long, strong strokes for long bones and circular motions for joints. Here is a video to help you practice self massage at home.
Leave the oil on for at least 5-20 minutes, and then hop back in the shower for 2 minutes. No soap needed! Pat dry and enjoy your velvety-soft skin!
TIP: If you don’t have the time to do a full body oiling, do just your feet before bed. Leave the oil on and layer with a warm pair of socks, and enjoy how soft your feet in the morning! Oiling the feet is also grounding for the mind.
4. Meditation: Sitting for 20 minutes twice a day has so many benefits, I need to do another post just for this single practice. But for now, know that a regular meditation practice can really help us during Vata season because it is grounding, creates a sense of ritual and routine (great for those of us who feel scattered or anxious), and it helps us to be in the present moment, regardless of what comes up during our meditation (which is usually lots of thoughts and sensations–totally normal).
AMAZING BENEFITS: An increase in self awareness; a reduction in negative emotions and anxiety, and an increase in positivity and balance; increased focus and better memory; increase in patience; more compassion for self and others; a greater sense of connection to a higher power or energy, and deeper connection to oneself and one’s heart.
HOW TO: If you have never meditated before, it can seem like a daunting project. But if you can create a quiet place where you can sit undisturbed for about 20 minutes, you are already on your way. Set a timer for your practice–maybe you start with 10 minutes if that seems reasonable. Begin by getting comfortable and noticing the breath. If you find you have a busy mind, know this is normal and a positive part of the process. Simply sit and observe as you breathe. In honor of the recent passing of Vietnamese Buddist Monk Thich Naht Hahn, his contemplative practice: “In, I am breathing in; out, I am breathing out,” is a lovely preparation for a meditation practice.
COMMIT TO YOUR PRACTICE: Seeking out a meditation teacher is a wonderful way to explore the benefits of meditation and get familiar with a specific practice that feels good for you. I practice and teach Heart Based Meditation, which is a mantra-based practice, focused in the heart. You can learn more about it here and either take a class with me or the founder of Heart Based Meditation, Dr. Paul Dugliss. Whatever the practice, committing to something every day is what makes it sustainable. I promise, if you stick with it, you will reap the rewards very soon!
For those who also enjoy adding contemplative guided mindfulness practices in addition to a meditation practice, check out Insight Timer
5. Get to bed by 10 pm. Sound impossible? Try going to bed 15 minutes earlier each night until 10 o’clock is actually within reach! I actually set a timer for 9:15 pm to remind me I’m overdue to get off my computer, silence and put away my phone, and get ready for bed!
WHY IS THIS IMPORTANT? In Ayurveda 10 am to 2 pm is Pitta time–when the sun is at its zenith, and when we are most energized in our bodies and minds. Even though it is dark, 10 pm to 2 am has the same effect on our physiology as the 10-2 in the daylight; so guess what: if you go to bed after 10 pm (and if you are anything like me, you catch that “second wind” or boost of energy and feel like you could stay awake for hours), you’ve missed your greatest opportunity for deep and nourishing sleep. Some people say they get more work done after 10 pm, but at what cost? Your rest and rejuvenation? We also sleep less soundly and sometimes intermittently when we stay up late. Bottom line, try to follow Nature’s rhythms: tone it down when the sun is going down; get moving just as the sun is rising and the birds are waking up!
TIPS: Turn off all screens at least 60 minutes before bedtime. Get away from blue light, social media, scary movies, and anything that is going to engage your brain with lots of thoughts or worry before bedtime. Instead, make a cup of tea, read a book, or enjoy a bath in the hours before bedtime.
Adding even two of the above practices will go a long way to support your body, mind, and spirit, not just during Vata time, but the whole year round. Stay hydrated, take care of your tongue, lube up your skin with luscious oils, take time to meditate daily, and get a good night’s rest. Enjoy taking care of yourself!
Many blessings,
~Katie
To learn more about Ayurveda, the doshas, seasonal imbalances, Ayurvedic cleansing, and more, check out the Ayurveda page of my website: http://www.dragonflyyogabarn.com
There are other faces I am happy to see too. I don’t always know their names, but the sparkle of recognition that happens when we see each other again makes me excited to walk all the same streets, visit all the same little shops, and roam the central market where I have taken thousands of pictures over the past five years.
Around a few more corners, a tailor sits quietly, head bent over his machine, his fingers feeding fabric neatly along a line. At his right shoulder a wall of remnants hems him into a cubicle smaller than an elevator. He looks up and immediately smiles to know I have taken an interest in him. But it’s not his sewing I see so much; it’s his hint of a smile and his eyes that hold my gaze—the way they glisten in the light with such sweetness. They are an invitation to stop and really see the person here, not just the work he does. I decide he has one of the kindest faces I’ve ever seen.
We smile at each other for a bit, and then I bow before I move on. It’s not until later when I look at this photo that I see his white mustache nearly trimmed to the upper lip and the patches of hair behind his temples that leave plenty of room for his broad brown forehead. His hands, on pause for the moment of my photo, sit on the swatch of cloth, ready to continue feeding it to the needle of his diminutive sewing machine. His button up shirt wears a tape measure for a collar that disappears below his hips, and his chest pocket holds a hundred rupee bill stuffed in like a handkerchief. His watch reads 12:30, and I’m sure he is doing a job for one of the street shops that employ the many market tailors.
A few minutes later, we pop out from under the tarps into the bright of day and head South toward the center of town. A man sits low on the sidewalk surrounded by neatly folded used clothes and shoes. He looks so tired. His cloudy eyes stare at me—through me—as I quickly steal a picture. I start to pass by, but decide to turn back, lean down and reach out my hand. He takes it in his own rough palm. His face is the definition of metamorphosis, as a smile blooms in his eyes. We don’t say a word—just look at each other for a long moment. I ask if I can take his photo again. The difference between the portraits is astounding: Photos #1 and #2, respectively.
A few days later, I capture the wonderful optometrist Kanikkaraj and his wife Latha:
We wander the skinny dirt path back through the tea, and some days I pick lantana, straw flowers, ageratum, and daisies for my room.
The path empties onto the main road for a hundred yards or so before it turns uphill and guides us back to where our walk began less than an hour ago. With just a few minutes to spare, I run to my room, swap sneakers for flip flops, grab some essential oil and my journal, and head straight up to the yoga hall where I unravel my mat and welcome students to practice. As the last echo of our chant is absorbed by the vaulted ceiling, a stream of yellow light pours into the windows and onto the floors (Photo courtesy of Lauren Spiro).
Every street is a bazaar glittering with bangles and bindies, and as far as the eye can see are pashmina stalls and shops crammed with Punjabi shoes studded with rhinestones or adorned with tiny pom poms and shiny rick rack. I try on a few pairs along the way, but save my purchase for some beaded gold flats I find later on in the day near the Golden Temple (more on that in a bit); I literally click my heels, and plan my night out as an Indian Cinderella! Sold for $500 rupees!!
Motorbikes swerve around cows, dogs, and throngs of colorful saris. I weave in and out of traffic with ease now on my fourth trip to India; I feel as though no matter where I go, things flow around me, or perhaps I flow around them… there is some kind of strange precision in the chaos of this human anthill, as if the Universe has already decided how this is all going to work. A moped speeds by within an inch of my elbow; a cow horn brushes my pants; I tip out of the way of a tuk tuk fender with a millisecond to spare; I slide sideways along a street to face a woman who makes the exact same move as me to avoid a crowd of men walking in a hard line towards us. My hips sway far left just missing the front tire of a peddle rickshaw who keeps his course despite my gasp; I balance easily on my tiptoes like a cat as I creep along a thin row of cobbles to dodge a pile of garbage. No one seems to care about how easily any one of us could get hit by the stream of motorbikes that rarely slows down; we all move before we think to move… consciousness precedes our thinking.
I find a small stash of beautiful double-sided silk Kantha shawls handmade from recycled saree fabric hidden in a tall stack of dupattas and my jaw drops; I have been looking for these down South for three years! They are perfectly imperfect, made by women from Bengal to Rajasthan. I could launch into another whole description of this artwork, but this link below will give you more info if you are interested in the history of kantha stitching: 
After a little bargaining, I take my packages with a grin as the shopkeeper bows to me. Both of us satisfied with the exchange, I duck back into the whirlwind of the street.
A ten minute walk from the Katra market via a dirty labyrinth of back streets full of trash and dusty cobblestones brings us to an opening resembling a traffic circle. A few food vendors sell sizzling fried vegetables called pakora from massive shallow wok-like pans, various fried flat breads are stacked and ready to roll around falafel, and a gauntlet of masala chai stands are lined up near the rather undecorated entrance of the landmark of Amritsar: The Golden Temple. We walk by this man during the day, but it is later that night we stop to try his golden potato cakes! Here he is putting on a fresh batch:
We step onto a red carpet just inside the gates, take off our shoes, and hand them to a man who swaps us for a key. After a hundred feet, we float down a set of marble steps, and then enter a tremendous sea of colored turbans in a wide crowd which eventually funnels into a slim line.
The pace is slow, but I don’t mind. I take a few pictures; then my phone dies, and all I can do is be present. Everyone is smiling, chatting, praying. The sun is hot, but it feels good, and I know it is snowing at home once again, so I’ll take the heat. This is the pic Declan sends me from our backyard (gasp as I realize there WILL still be snow when I get back home):
It is a half hour before we pass under the golden arch which leads onto a long promontory where we will “walk on water” to the Sri Hamandir Sahib, The Golden Temple. A man at the end of the bridge lifts an iron bar, and a wave of bodies lunges forward before the bar returns to hold the crowd. Eventually, we make it in, and once inside, I understand the draw. There are two men playing twin gold harmoniums, another playing tabla, all dressed in white, and devotees sit on the floor in rows facing the musicians. One of the men chants into a microphone. The center of the temple is open from floor to ceiling where a giant chandelier hangs, shimmering. Ornate flowers are painted on the walls, and the ceiling is pure gold and lit up from the reflection of the water outside. Many people hold tiny prayer books and follow along with the chants; others sit with eyes closed and sway. I find a spot on the second floor in a sunny alcove, and let the sun wash over me while the chant goes on and on.
A little bit about the architecture: the giant pool of water surrounding the temple is called Amrit Sarovar (lake of nectar), and it is the prettiest shade of blue-green meant to mirror of the sky. The tank was first constructed in 1577, but it wasn’t until about 25 years later that the Golden Temple was commissioned and officials appointed its first head priest. Everywhere are engravings recognizing the lineage of Sikh gurus, and I learn later the temple itself is erected on the site where it is said the very first Guru, Nanak, used to sit and meditate. Built at a level lower than the surrounding land, the temple, or Gurudwara, teaches the lesson of egalitarianism and humility; it is not only a central religious place of the Sikhs of Amritsar and Sikh pilgrims from all over the world, but it is also known as a symbol of human brotherhood and equality. The pure gold on the roof represents the richness we all enjoy in sharing a sacred space, and it is said that everybody, regardless of race, religion, or any other limiting factor, is offered spiritual solace and religious fulfillment here. All are welcome, as symbolized by four separate entrances calling in all of humanity; about a third of all visitors are non-Sikh, so this message is truly an invitation.
Sitting among families and foreigners, Sikhs and Hindis, I feel completely at home. Giant koi swim along the edges of the 17 foot- deep reflection pool that makes the temple look like a golden island. Since the water is said to be Amrit, the nectar of the gods, it is customary to wash your face, sip the water, or even take a ritual dunk in certain designated areas. As the sun disappears, the temperatures drop and the breeze picks up, and yet more and more people join the line to get into the temple, which is open from 2:30 am to 10 pm each day. From every direction, the evening chant from inside the temple echos gently outward from the loud speakers placed at the four corners of the complex. Many sing along. Others feed the fish. Some, like these two kids, ask if they can take a selfie with us, and their parents snap photos and then ask for my What’s App # so they can send them to me.
And then…15 minutes into the half hour flight, we take a sharp U-turn and are told that there we are experiencing engine “difficulties,” and must return to Amritsar. The ride was turbulent before the announcement, so you can imagine how engine trouble might make the passengers feel. We land quickly and told to deplane on the tarmac. Two hours later, the flight is officially cancelled, and our luggage is finally returned to us.
I have an hour to rest in my fuzzy aqua bathrobe and allow my oil to soak in before a bunch of us assemble on the lawn for our daily “round-robin,” abs class. Our half hour is playful, hilariously competitive, and actually quite challenging! 
We are all determined to keep off the pounds lost here on PK (panchakarma, the full name of the 21-day Ayurvedic cleanse we are participating in on this retreat). Some who are on a weight loss program have lost between 5 and 13 kilos (10-26 lbs)! Most of us have dropped 5-10 pounds without trying and have gotten leaner by walking every day, practicing yoga, hydrating more, adding ghee to the diet, and mostly—I presume—by relaxing the mind and surrendering our stress in this unique mind-body-spirit process of letting go and receiving all the goodness of massage, food made with such love, and this beautiful environment we have called home for the past two and a half weeks. With less than a week to go, many of us are already anticipating the return to “the world.” It is important to remind ourselves to remain present for every moment, as each is a blessing. In the friendships we have grown, we have witnessed our becomings and the goings of things that no longer serve us. I am so grateful for our original group of 13, but also for the handful of others from around the world who have nestled in to our family ❤️
Days are somewhat timeless here. There is structure to each day, but a lot of what we offer in addition to the PK is optional, so each of us can really dive deep and take more personal time if that is what’s needed, or we can allow the offerings to fill our individual well with meditation and yoga, with storytelling, singing, laughter, a tuk tuk ride to town, or a trip to the dentist where you can have your teeth cleaned for all of $20. Oh, this is Velu and his fabulous rickshaw nicknamed the “Lemon.” He always greets me with a humongous smile, and he has a fishbowl in his tuk tuk!
Morning blossoms on the laundry, then pours into the yoga studio in time for savasana; it smiles through the drapes in the treatment rooms where our therapists glide oil over our bodies. By lunch, the sun is high in the sky and hot like our digestive fire, ready to devour a delicious lunch served up by Chagan and Mohan. Sambar soup, freshly-made chapatis, veggies from the garden, and always fresh fruits, like this jackfruit.
As the sun passes its zenith, we put our robes back on and begin to take our staggered afternoon treatments: abhyanga massage with herbal infusions, rice bath, steam and bastis; herbal pounding, powder massage, deep tissue and muscle treatments, therapies for the eyes, and so much more! This is me with my eyes full of ghee in a treatment called Netra Tarpana, where a garam dough is made by hand just as I arrive, and while it is still soft, the therapists mold it to my face. It looks a little scary, and it’s a bit uncomfortable to blink for ten minutes into the ghee, but I can assure you, after it’s all over everything looks sharper, and colors are so much more brilliant! I receive six days of this treatment.
And treatments are just part of our daily regimen. Each of us is given a repertoire of daily herbal concoctions, decoctions, pastes, tablets, and tinctures. Guests are here to work with Dr. Mouli on an array of imbalances that give rise to issues such as migraines, Lymes disease, constipation, leaky gut, insomnia, anxiety, psoriasis, and so much more. I am always so mystified and tickled that just the right group of people shows up to share in this 21-day experience. It is nothing short of marvelous!
Each morning is it’s own, but there is ritual here too. The same dogs sit on the same steps, children dress for school, roosters crow, and women line up to fill their water jugs.
Being here on retreat in the Nilgiris in the heart of India is one way I can help to create that time and space for people to rest, rejuvenate, and come home–to move closer to one’s true nature. Here we work on correcting imbalances in the mind-body-spirit, and both individually and with the support of the group, we take a journey toward homeostasis. In our first complete week here, I have felt and witnessed such a profound shift in each one of us. We are each on our own path, but so very much a family. I wonder how I ever lived without these people in my world. It is an incredible gift to facilitate this opportunity with my dear friend, John, and it is a powerful and humbling time with myself–to allow myself to enjoy all of the work that goes into uploading this event and to just be here in the hands of these miraculous therapists, being fed by our jovial and gifted chefs, receiving the sweetest smiles from the beautiful women who turn down our comforters, and to bow to the gardeners who clear the fallen leaves from our pathways. I am overwhelmed again and again and again.
The cliffs rise 70 feet above Papanasam Beach, where you can look out over the Arabian Sea as far as the eye can see. They say here you can purge the body of all impurities and the soul of all sins because of a holy spring that flows from the cliffs into the sea. I can’t wait to get into that water.
A quick sunrise hop to Cochin and a bus through morning traffic gets us to the old fort city in a few hours. I’m wrecked by the time we make it to Calvin’s Inn, a homestay with a handful of rooms that open into a common dining area. Krishti, the owner, checks us in, and although all I want is a nap, we agree to go for a walk to stay awake, hoping it will be easier to adjust to being on the other side of the planet.
After watching the process for a few minutes, Brendan and I are invited to try, so we climb up on the pier and each take one of the five ropes. The men chant as they pull in sync, and I squeal when my feet leave the ground for a second during one of the pulls.
Farther down the street are ladies selling trinkets spread out over sheets on the ground. I stop to peek and am drawn into the wishful eyes of a girl dressed all in yellow. She shows me dozens of glittering anklets, and while she tries to get me to buy, I can feel the eyes of the sellers in the next shop waiting to see if I will make a purchase. Each one says they “have a special price” just for me. Sometimes I wish I had more than my backpack, but it is a good reminder to go slow with my shopping; I have six weeks, after all.
At 6 pm (4:30 am at home), the boardwalk is alive with throngs of people who come out to watch the Cochin sunset. Families stroll together, toddlers in tow, young lovers lean into each other, wrists entwined, and fishmongers call out to passers by, hoping to sell off the last catch of the day. The red sun sinks into the waves, a half circle like my eyes which I can barely keep open. By the time we get back to Calvin’s it is dark, and I sit on a couch and text with Declan about the day. It’s only 8 pm by the time we say goodnight, and I fall fast asleep.
Next stop, and heading into the second hour of our 1-hour tour, is a visit to Dobi, an old laundry center where large-scale hand washing of linens for hotels still happens on a daily basis. Cloths are submerged in small square rooms, where the washers, each in a traditional cotton sarong, stand knee deep and scrub fabric over a huge stone with a brush. Once scrubbed, families of laundry are wrung out and hung by clipping the corner of the garment or cloth between tightly wound cords of rope.
Dragonfly Yoga Barn, Studio & Retreat 