Many Medicines, One Healing: BCA Navajo Healing Project

“Hozhoo bae nana dolthdoo: With this (healing) may you go forth in the world in beauty.”

On the first morning of the second annual Navajo Healing Clinic, Justice Yazzie summoned us to an opening prayer. We pulled ourselves from our tasks --food prep, organizing clinic space, setting up outdoor intake--and collected ourselves in front of the large metal broiler that was heating the rocks for the morning sweat lodge. It was cold that morning and we were gathered around like children, hugging ourselves, shaking and marching in place to warm ourselves. The sun had broken the horizon not long ago and I was enjoying the serenity of the desert plants in the morning light.

Justice Yazzie started by asking us to repeat a blessing in Navajo. We didn’t know what we were repeating, but tried to keep up the best we could. We had already spent the earlier part of the morning trying to commit to memory a simple blessing in Navajo to say to our patients after we treat them. At the time, it seemed easy enough. But it’s amazing how quickly forgetfulness and confusion descends. Throughout the morning the simple one line quickly devolved into nonsense mumbling, mnemonic silliness and conflicting corrections between us. So when Justice Yazzie again started with more Navajo for the opening prayers, I felt defeated before I began. After what felt like a long time of speaking and repeating Navajo, he finished the blessing in English. He said all things are medicine, even hardship is medicine and that one medicine speaks to the other medicine so they know what to do.

As I thought about what Justice Yazzie was saying, I realized that it was a succinct articulation of our entire project from the beginning. It’s hard to say how something like the Navajo Healing Project gets birthed and grows. Perhaps projects begin with an idea. But where do ideas come from? Marley Shebala, the journalist of the local newspaper, led me to trace the project as far back in time as I could go when she came to interview me about the Navajo Healing Project for the local paper.

She began with basic questions: where were we from? What were we doing there? After some time explaining my chance meeting with Justice Yazzie and telling her about our project, she directed her questions to me personally. Tell me about you, she kept insisting. I gave her my usual professional answer, I’m the owner and director of BCA, etc. She stopped me mid-sentence. No, she pressed, tell me about you. I paused, not sure what she was getting at. What brought you here? Where did you come from? Why are you doing this work? How do you know what you know? I saw from her direct and insistent questioning that she wanted the whole story, my real story. And I could feel from her presence that I could tell her the real story and she would get it.

I began the story with me as a baby being born in a time of war, of the impact of forced and violent displacement, of the incessant search for home, community, healing and the search for who I am and what was taken from me. I emphasized that to me, re-claiming myself is not just learning about where I came from, but actually starts from affirming all the things that make me who I am in the present moment. In the present moment, I am a Vietnamese-American woman and I find myself on Navajo Lands, with my Navajo family offering healing with Traditional Chinese Medicine to the Navajo community. While there is a different kind of displacement that perhaps I cannot understand--the trauma is familiar to me. As I spoke an unexpected torrent of emotions came through me as Marley held my hands. Through my tears, I could see tears in Marley’s eyes too -- a shared springwell of tears and recognition emerging from our eyes.

After that interview, I thought about the medicines that we all carry inside us talking to the medicine of another. I wondered how everyone’s journeys brought them to Window Rock, Arizona that weekend and I thought about the medicine each of us gives and the medicine each of us receives. I felt that healing is the alchemy of medicines informed by stories. I saw everyone with new eyes and marveled at every interaction, including my own. I saw a medicine man give our bodyworker a healing before she gave him a treatment because he sensed she picked up a pain from a patient the day before. I saw people approaching the clinic with the traumatic reflex of suspicion and caution and leave with openness and trust. I saw a small child eager to step in and perform massage on our team members in the way she experienced and watched us through the weekend. I saw elderly men emerging from the adjacent sweat lodge relaxed and joyful like children and people emerging from acupuncture and body work in the same way. I heard laughter all around, broken Navajo from our team members, words of gratitude and encouragement, greetings of kinship, offers of help and support, all carried by the tones and sounds of the healing instruments our sound healer brought back from her own healing journey to Tibet. I saw people magically appear and volunteer for crucial roles to help the clinic run smoothly-- a local bodyworker to take the place of our BCA bodyworker who couldn’t make the trip, an elder to run the women’s sweat lodge when the person who was supposed to do it had to leave, relatives to gather sacred wood in the mountains late at night to run the sweat lodge, and our last minute addition to the BCA team who had a knack of knowing exactly what each person needed at the right time and was there to offer it. I saw everyone working in magical synchronicity, naturally as things are intended in Nature and I thought of my BCA community at home, people there stepping in to keep the clinic running smoothly in our absence and the support of all kinds that made our trip possible. In this flow, give and take is blurred, your medicine or my medicine is blurred, each person’s story becomes the other person’s story and we merge into one medicine, one story of healing.

By the end of the weekend, our team had treated almost 80 people of all ages. Most received both acupuncture and bodywork. We offered healing medicinal balm that one of our patients from BCA made and donated, educational materials and instructions on self-care, food that we prepared with our Navajo family and offered to everyone who came through the clinic, and a final blessing that by the second day of clinic we more confidently spoke to our patients (perhaps because we came up with the idea to tape it to the wall): Hozhoo bae nana dolthdoo: With this (healing) may you go forth in the world in beauty. Upon hearing our linguistic attempt, some people thanked us, some laughed, some were confused. But I think everyone understood the underlying intention we all had in common, that of healing.

In community.

Latest Musing on Navajo Healing Project

“My intention was to introduce TCM to the Navajo population as an effective alternative to alleviating many common ailments.”

I recently travelled to New Mexico on a research trip for BCA’s Navajo Healing Project*. I had some concerns about bringing Traditional Chinese Medicine (TCM) to Navajo Lands. Is it  beneficial for the Navajo people overall? I wanted clarity before moving forward. 

 I arrived in Albuquerque past midnight and was grateful to see Justice Robert Yazzie at the airport. I was tired, but we ended up talking into the wee hours about health and justice. My intention was to introduce TCM to the Navajo population as an effective alternative to alleviating many common ailments. To make it sustainable, we would integrate self-care and train local practitioners in basic acupuncture procedures. I was also interested in integrating  native healing practices into the education because I was deeply concerned about the survival of Traditional Native Medicine. Less and less healing knowledge was being handed down and more people were moving towards modern medicine. I was afraid that native wisdom would be lost forever. 

The next morning we set out to meet as many medicine people as he could find. Driving to Gallup, my senses were flooded with the painted landscapes and expansive skies. I didn’t know yet then, but it was only the beginning of what would be a most magical trip. As the days unfolded, I would meet and spend time with people and places that would address my deepest concerns about bringing TCM to Navajo Lands and how to preserve Native knowledge. 

I wanted to get to know the people I was introducing TCM to in order to understand if it would be an acceptable medicine.  While I felt good about the project, there was a part of me still unsure it is the right thing to do. “Right” being respectful, a good fit, sustainable and beneficial. 

Fortunately, I had the opportunity to meet 4 Medicine people, attend a medicine ceremony and talk to many Navajo people about healing: young folks and elders, men and women, city folks and Navajos on the reservation. As with many populations, there is a variation on beliefs and lifestyles. Even amongst the Medicine people, outlooks and understandings differ. There are 4 primary avenues of medicine that the Navajo population use: Native American Church which uses peyote as a sacrament for healing, Navajo Traditional Medicine which uses ceremonies by a Medicine person to promote healing,  traditional medicine based on folk knowledge of local herbal medicines and Western Medicine (which one medicine man referred to as “everyday” medicine). The population in general is moving away from traditional native healing knowledge and practices towards Western Medicine. Very few people know anything about Traditional Chinese Medicine beyond having heard of acupuncture.

There were moments during my trip that gave me pause,  Like when I suggested to one medicine man that acupuncture would help the knee pain he complained about. He shook his head. I pressed on. He said, I can’t do that medicine because it would mean I don’t have faith in my own. Or when I was told by medicine people that one cannot elect oneself to study medicine. It’s a gift endowed upon a person by the Creator. I wondered how this would impact my idea for training Navajos in basic acupuncture.

As I collected information, I thought about my own relationship to the medicine I practice. And then it dawned on me why this Navajo Project was so important to me and what I have been trying to do all this time. Back in the day, TCM was not taught like it is today. Similar to what the Navajo Medicine people were telling me about Navajo Medicine, TCM apprentices in ancient times were chosen or had to prove themselves worthy in rigorous ways. At that time medicine was intimately connected to, in fact inseparable from sacred knowledge of the world. Today sacred knowledge is interpreted as theory and principles to be implemented towards practical knowledge of curing disease. TCM has been through many different ruling systems, governments, revolutions, practices and popular thought and each time has changed and adapted itself to the times. Is it a coincidence that In my own personal journey to uncover the sacred roots of Traditional Chinese Medicine, I find myself connected to the Navajo community where medicine is still being practiced upholding sacred principles? 

During one meeting with a medicine man, he told me that there was no one to pass sacred knowledge on to because there is no one eligible for the rigorous training he had in mind. Up until then, I shared little of myself, always keeping in mind to listen. But something took over me during that conversation and I shared with him my personal journey. I told him I was always searching for sacred knowledge, but as a young person, the closest thing I could find was to enroll in an institution that taught TCM. In retrospect, I can see that my education was extremely reductive, distorting and perhaps even misleading about the full depth and breadth of TCM.  Despite that, I am very grateful for the training I did receive---breadcrumbs that allow me to pursue a path of deeper knowledge if I so desire. At the very least, I have a medicine I can practice that can be more effective and less damaging than modern medicine for many common ailments. 

I told him that maybe there is no one worthy for him to pass total knowledge to, but if there are no breadcrumbs left, the knowledge may disappear altogether. The young people need some breadcrumbs. He listened quietly and we were interrupted by someone coming into the room. The conversation turned to something else. Even though I felt disappointed for the interruption, I did not feel it was appropriate to force the conversation. When it was time to leave,  the medicine man turned to me and said, I want you to know I heard what you were trying to say to me. That simple acknowledgement encouraged me to stay my path. The introduction of a completely foreign medicine (TCM) and the suggestion of passing on knowledge different from what has always been and considered right are very sensitive, complicated matters. I didn’t know if the mere suggestion of doing things differently would be an offense. The best I could hope for was a consideration of what I was proposing. 

After that, things fell into place one by one. By the end of the trip, I was sitting in a room with Justice Yazzie, his son and another medicine man working out the details of our return clinic and making plans for a future training and certification program. When I returned home, things continued to fall into place. 6 members of the BCA team - 3 acupuncturists, 2 bodyworkers and one sound healer - agreed to accompany me at the end of October to do another pop-up clinic and initiate an education and training program. This year, with the help of our Navajo friends, we will integrate traditional native healing into the clinic. There will be a sweat lodge concurrent with acupuncture and body work. Local herbal medicines will be provided and traditional healthy Native foods will be prepared. Also, an emphasis on reverence, intention and the power of words will be part of our clinic procedures. We look forward to creating this healing space that will heal, connect and grow all communities and peoples involved. Thank you for being a part of this! 

*The research trip was made possible by BCA donations. Thank you!

We are the Keepers

““And now here is my secret, a very simple secret: It is only with the heart that one can see rightly; what is essential is invisible to the eye.””

— The Little Prince by Antoine de Saint-Exupéry.

In describing our inseparable connection to all of life, Thich Nhat Hanh talks about seeing the cloud in a piece of paper. Without clouds, there can be no rain, without rain, there can be no trees, without trees, there can be no paper. So within a piece of paper, there is a cloud. He calls this Interbeing. I’ve been thinking about Thich Nhat Hanh a lot lately, wondering how he is capable of seeing a cloud in a piece of paper after all that he has actually seen with his very eyes: the senseless destruction of his Motherland, the systematic murder of his friends, the bombing and poisoning of women and children. He has developed a sense of seeing beyond what we see with our eyes.

In some ways, the practice of Chinese Medicine is a practice of seeing beyond what is apparent to our eyes. This past month, when I was in the Navajo lands treating patients, many came suffering from layers of pain that burrows in their bodies. A Western doctor might see diabetes, obesity, poor food choices, slipped discs, insomnia and depression. My eyes are trained to see through the diagnostic principles of Chinese Medicine: yin deficiency, excess dampness, qi and blood stagnation. Beyond mere diagnosis, however, I look deeper. And in looking deeper, I see the effects of white supremacy: genocide, rape, poverty, and the systematic attempts to erase Native Peoples. Their bodies carry history of unimaginable pain and profound grief. If pharmaceuticals and surgery are the answer to what the Western doctors see, how do I respond to what I see? What is the medicine for the violence, isolation, destruction around us? Do I offer needles and herbs instead of surgery and pharmaceuticals? What is the medicine that takes into account the whole picture and what is the whole picture?.

For years I’ve advocated Chinese Medicine as not just a set of tools, but a way of seeing. A way of seeing that connects everything around us, much like Thich Nhat Hanh’s thoughts on Interbeing. If we don’t hold steady to that way of seeing, then even with needles and herbs, we may be just trying to fix a symptom. Without seeing deeper into all the connections that make a person, we are not truly practicing Chinese Medicine. To see the Whole person is the beginning of healing. To reclaim all parts and to see the body as not just a set of  symptoms but as witness to history, our shared history and to understand all the forces that are currently affecting us is understanding the Whole person. When we can see that, there is a natural healing response in both the patient and I. The patient’s response may be one of affirming and allowing the flood of held back emotions and in seeing clearly, engaging the whole self in self-care. Often, my response is as witness, to hold space for what comes forward for healing and then through the medicine to honor the body’s innate healing process.

Sometimes, when I see the injustice that gives rise to sick bodies, a great anger grows inside me. When I feel this rage, my response is aggression--to fight a system, a disease, a person that represents those things to me. I have to remind myself that although my response is anger, my responsibility is to heal. They are almost opposites and yet they inform one another. The former gives rise to greater pain, the latter gives rise to true peace. For a long time, I have been trying to figure out the best action as a response and a responsibility towards what I see. For me, when I see a piece of paper, sometimes I see deforestation more readily than I see a cloud.

After the second full day of clinic on Navajo lands and seeing pain and grief in so many bodies of all ages, I felt that I myself was becoming the embodiment of pain, anger and despair. My shoulders felt weighted, my ankles ached, my jaws clenched, and my heart felt like a stone. I took a walk into the desert to shake this feeling. I could feel that the heaviness inside me was going to make me sick if I didn’t do something about it. As I walked, I talked to the Creator and asked for help. The Creator’s response was silence. I suppose She was holding space for me.

I sat beneath the shade of a tree. The Navajo desert is bewitching in its beauty. The mountains and hills, brush and canyons transfixes me in quiet awe. The ball of despair and anger in my chest started to disintegrate and I started to feel the breath come back inside me. I felt the hard smooth rock beneath me and its unwavering support and I felt a great gratitude for the cool shade that sheltered me from the afternoon sun. My body became lighter and lighter, my mind became softer and softer, my heart grew bigger and bigger and I become as light as the clouds in the sky.

I can see the wisdom in seeing the cloud in a piece of paper although I cannot always see it where it is not apparent. To see the cloud is to see what heals. And as long as there are those that see the clouds in everything--the Keepers of wisdom, I believe there is hope for us. The Keepers of wisdom see the clouds, the desert, the mountains and rivers. They are people like Thich Nhat Hanh insistent on peace with every step. They are the Chinese sages who understand the rhythms of Nature and our place in it. They are the Navajo elders and Medicine People who hold onto Native wisdom and knowledge. These Keepers hold steadfast to the Truth for their people and for all of us.

Thinking back on the families that made the trek to see us for healing, I see beautiful people, open, curious and strong.  They trusted our Medicine and allowed us to treat them and listen to their stories. They brought their children, who weaved laughter in and out of clinic, played in the rocks and brush and grabbed us all by the hands, urging us to join them under open desert skies. Medicine is as much a way of seeing as doing. Healing is a coming together, making us Whole again. And the Keepers are not only the Medicine People and the Wise Ones. They are the Children and You and I when we have the courage to open our eyes and see with our hearts.

In Health and Community,