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The Healing Arts of GrassRoots

By Danielle Klock / July 27, 2010 08:16 PM / 0 Comments

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Come this way to FLAME, New York, home of Healing Arts at the GrassRoots Festival of Music and Dance.

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At FLAME, Festival-goers sign up for free massages, energy work, acupuncture, allergen resetting, shamanic healing, chiropractic, and much, much more, while the music from the Grandstand Stage provides a soundtrack to the weekend's events.

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The visioneer for Healing Arts at GrassRoots is JoAnn Kingsley, LMT of BodyWorks in Ithaca. Here JoAnn handles some last minute coordination before the gates open Thursday afternoon, backstage at the Grandstand Stage, where massage therapists work around the clock to sooth sore muscles of performers and crew alike.

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Jaya, the Trust Coach, (right) employs The Work of Byron Katie to assist Lyndsey from Wales, UK in self-inquiry.

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Lori Saleem leads an impromptu hand excerise in the Healing Arts tent after a passerby inquired about her workshop scheduled the following day.

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Teresa Grady, LMT, works on sore muscles backstage at the Grandstand.

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Leia Alston, LMT gives a massage to MC Alan Rose.

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Victoria Marlowe sets up backstage at the Infield Stage.

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Jud Wipf provides shamanic healing sessions back at FLAME.

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Bob Laurentz clears the aura of Heron Boyce.

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Marvin Warren offers down-to-earth massages.

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Dr. Marne O'Shae works with Portia Wells and friend to create dowsing pendulums.

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FLAME is full of vibrant color, energy, and love.

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Chiropractor Brian Bartholomew consults with Greg Kops (left) about his spinal health.

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Rudy Nuñez gives Megan Bazin a sound healing session using the didgeridoo.

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Alan Rose dances backstage at the Grandstand to Samite of Uganda after his massage.

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Daniel Malor Karle massages MC Chris Tate at the Grandstand Station.

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In addition to the dozens of practitioners working one-on-one, this year saw the addition of a workshop tent, which housed group sessions for yoga, dowsing, voice, and more.

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Hawk and Heron share laughter and a hug after Hawk's Yoga Trance Dance Workshop and a deluge of rain.

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Megan Bazin and friend surrender to the rain after Hawk of AHIMSA Yoga leads the Yoga Trance Dance Workshop.

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A rainbow after the storm.

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Rhonni DuBose rocks the information table before tending to her solar-powered food booth. (Think chocolate-covered goodness.)

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Earth was welcomed as one of two tarot readers who unexpectedly volunteered her insight to those seeking.

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Eric Caruso shares a hug among his varied services that include muscle testing, rapid relax, and allergen resetting.

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Tarot reader Janet White sits for Robert Hackman's acupuncture needles.

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Daniel Malor Karle moves venues to help out backstage at the Infield on Sunday.

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LMT Jennifer Huttenberger prepares the table to work with Chrissie Reyes at the Infield station.

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Reyes and Huttenberger give a collaborative massage as the music plays on the infield stage.

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Chrissie Reyes works on a shoulder.

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Rudy Nuñez and his didgeridoo provide some of the final healing sounds as the sun sets on FLAME, New York until next year.

Despite a 15 year tradition of service to festival-goers as well as performers and crew alike at Healing Arts at GrassRoots, many people still don't know about the amazing work being done at the end of the horse stables, tucked away behind the craft vendors. This is a place that once a year comes alive and is known as FLAME (Finger Lakes Art of Medicine Education), New York.

Here, dozens of healing arts practitioners volunteer their time to work one-on-one with people, or to lead workshops on yoga, dowsing, inquiry, living in the present moment, and more. This past weekend, hundreds of people came to FLAME and enjoyed the community that lasted but four days and is centered on the principles of abundance, sharing, healing, unity, and presence.

Coordinated by JoAnn Kingsley, a Licensed Massaged Therapist at Bodyworks Massage Therapy in Ithaca, all of the Healing Arts services are available on a first-come, first-served basis, and are absolutely free of charge. And while many people come seeking a free massage, they may instead walk away with a spinal adjustment, an herbal remedy, or maybe a new experience they may have never allowed themselves in another context. C'mon, you know you really want a didgeridoo sound healing treatment. (Trust me.)

Anyway, backstage at the Infield and Grandstand stages, additional massage stations are available to treat the MCs, singers, drummers, chefs, lighting and video crews, or a family member who just drove eleven hours to support her family.

I was there helping out, taking photos, connecting people and connecting with people. I never got tired of it. My job was to be myself, and as I collapsed, fully spent and alive Saturday night backstage at the Grandstand to the sound of the Campbell Brothers, I realized that's the kind of work that is real. It feeds you with something more substantial than food, and satiates a hunger much deeper than the pit of your belly.

There were several times when people approached me, assuming I too was an LMT. But when I told them I wasn't, that I was a Healing Arts ambassador of sorts, and offered them sunscreen or a wet wipe with which to wash their feet, that prospect was appreciated too.

And so I learned that no matter what your job, no matter where you are, by staying true to that internal FLAME, and sharing it with other people, we suddenly all have the power to heal. We have enough for everyone. We even have enough for you...

Please, let it shine.

Sat Nam,

:D

Facing My Fears Part 1: The Snow Cave

By Danielle Klock / March 1, 2010 02:58 PM / 1 Comment

If there is one creature comfort that I am not willing to give up, it is warmth. I would much rather be too warm than too cold. But lo and behold, two nights ago I slept in a snow cave with my 12 year-old son to support him in his quest for a merit badge. Little did I know that it would be his presence that would bring me comfort through the long Winter night.

The family had spent hours earlier in the day piling and packing a huge mound of snow from our recent 16-inch acquisition. We had a bountiful supply of the kind perfect for packing. It was then carved out, and we had a snow cave that was wide and long enough to accommodate the two of us just fine.

But the ceiling of the cave was low. While lying inside, there was enough room to roll over. That was it. I remembered the times I spent as a teenager, feeling comforted by small spaces, often requesting to ride in the trunk of my friends' cars. I was caught off guard by my sudden fear of confinement as I slid, feet first, into the hole in the snow. I began to panic in the cold as I inched my way into the sleeping bag.

As Jet slid in next to me, I settled down some, as he was fearless. We read for a while by the lantern light before deciding that the sooner we got to sleep, the sooner it would be over. Jet was snoring within 10 minutes. I was terrified.

There was complete silence, with an occasional drip drip at the entrance, as snow melted. I remembered telling Jet at age three that night isn't scary because even if you can't see the sun, the moon can, so anytime he felt scared at night he could look to the moon and know the sun would be up soon.

But I couldn't see the moon from inside the cave. I could see snow, and I could see Jet. And Jet was sleeping. How could he sleep in this tight space that could collapse upon us at any moment? After what seemed like hours of anxiety and terror, I stopped asking how it was possible that my son could feel safe in this place, and noticed that he just did. And that calmed me, because I trusted his instinct. I know he knows when something is wrong, and he is quick to warn and guide others. But here he was, sleeping, and that was good enough for me.

I suddenly realized I was warm. We were well insulated and dry, and a slight slope on the floor of the snow cave ensured that we stayed close together. I occasionally plotted my escape, thinking of every plausible excuse why I should be exempt from this experience. I wasn't the one who was earning the merit badge, after all. But that didn't mean I wouldn't get anything from seeing it through.

My toes started to freeze. I couldn't reach down to rub them and keep them warm. I was able to use my toes to push my thick socks down around them better, but they remained cold throughout the night, and my focus turned to their warmth, wiggling them and rubbing them on my ankles to create some friction.

By the time dawn had arrived, I had come face to face with many fears I never knew I had. Inside the house I had many distractions. My laptop, my daydreams, and all the comforts necessary for living a distracted life. I began to think of friends and recent experiences, of people buried for days in earthquake debris, of how I somehow managed not to project my own fears upon my child.

I drifted off for probably an hour or two, and when I awoke to see sunlight, I wasted no time in awakening my boy and hightailing it back to our beds, where I could again be blissfully distracted, but with a newfound awareness of myself.

Later in the day I thanked Jet for sharing the experience with me, assuring him that I would remember it forever. He just said, "Yeah," and smiled. When asked later how he felt about the outing, his view is simple. "It was pretty fun," he said.

TAGGED WITH: camping, fears, moon, snow, snow cave, winter

Welcome to Wishing Well

By Danielle Klock / September 18, 2009 05:17 PM / 1 Comment

Photo by Danielle KlockLotus in Bloom at Littletree Orchards, Newfield

About five years ago, at the age of 30, I got my first taste of what community feels like. I had been living a fairly isolated rural life when I enrolled my son in what was then Stone Circle School, which was administered through parent volunteerism and sweat equity. I got really involved, and was soon serving on the board of trustees, chairing the fundraising committee, designing brochures, volunteering in classrooms and reveling in the new relationships I had formed and the growth of my little boy, while learning about holistic education.

The next year I got an invitation to join the board at the Foundation of Light, and signed on as the editor of their newsletter. It was in this role that I noticed that although there was a large group of people with a tremendous amount of knowledge, that information wasn't being shared effectively. I knew that if all of these people could connect and share, we could really blossom and make a difference. I saw the potential impact that we could make in our communities.

When I moved to downtown Ithaca three years ago, I began attending Kundalini yoga classes with Jai Hari Meyerhoff, became a superworker at GreenStar, attended classes at Alternatives FCU, and just fell in love with Ithaca. It seemed the most magical place in the world to me. I soon met more and more people with so much energy and so much knowledge.

Sure, there were networks and groups of people who were interested in the same things I was (Sustainability, Wellness, and Spirituality), but there were still many individuals who were not widely connected, and many of the groups were struggling with outreach initiatives, though they wanted to welcome more people.

Many individual holistic practitioners and organizations did not have a marketing budget, and relied on word-of-mouth references.

Over and over again, I wished there could be some way to remedy the disconnect that I was witnessing, and to build a comprehensive platform to support and enrich the local holistic community. Initially I thought I would start a print publication, but through my experience as newsletter editor at the Foundation of Light, I realized that it lacked the interaction of a true community, was limited in it's potential scope, and I wasn't crazy about the waste of paper, even if it was recycled.

In May of 2007, I met my partner, Greg Kops, a talented software engineer, single father of three, and all around good guy. In September of that year the seed for Wishing Well had been planted, and ideas of its growth sprouted with every development.

What had begun as a small wish, a little idea, has developed into what you see today. At Wishing Well you can be part of a local resource that is dedicated to Sustainability, Wellness and Spirit.

Please take the time to sign up for an account, explore the site, share your ideas and knowledge, promote your business if you have one and contribute in any way you feel moved.

Welcome to our community.

Wishing You Well,

Danielle Klock, Managing Editor

TAGGED WITH: community, spirituality, sustainability, wellness