Shiitake Jones sat in the park watching her boyfriend Ken kick a soccer ball around with his nephew, when her Enya ring tone roused her from the daydream she had fallen into. He’s so good with kids, she had been thinking as she watched Ken coach little Stan on the finer points of tackling. He would make a great dad… Then she stopped herself mid-thought. "Shiitake Jones!" she admonished herself. "You haven’t been dating him that long. There is no reason to be ordering an amasake wedding cake or bidding for an out-of-print copy of Macrobiotic Pregnancy and Childcare on eBay just yet."

She scrambled through her bag to answer her phone in time and just managed to locate it between some leftover rice balls from lunch, a zip lock bag of bancha tea bags that she took everywhere, and a packet of organic trail mix.

"Val!" she exclaimed, recognizing the caller ID. "What’s new?"

Shiitake’s friend and manager of the yoga studio where she taught was so excited that Shiitake could barely make out what she was trying to tell her.

"Slow down, Val. You are talking faster than you do Sun Salutes and that is saying something. Take a full yogic breath and start again…"

"Swami Macronannda is ill and cannot teach the yoga, Pranayama, and meditation classes on the macro cruise which means there is a vacancy for an experienced yoga teacher. What are you doing next week, Shiitake?"

At that moment Ken and Stan plonked down in front of her. It looked like little Stan had run Ken ragged.

"Oh Val!" Shiitake exclaimed into the phone. "I don’t know what to say. This is too exciting for words. Wait! I will call you right back…"

Shiitake handed Ken and Stan some certified organic water in non-xenoestrogen-leaching bottles to re-hydrate. Then Stan ran off to play on the swings under Ken’s watchful eye.

"Who were you talking to, Shiitake?" Ken asked, noting that she was so excited she could barely sit still. "And what don’t you ‘know what to say’ about?" He found it hard to believe that Shiitake could ever be lost for words.

"Oh Ken," Shiitake gushed. "You will never believe it. That was my yoga school manager. I have been invited to teach on the macro cruise next week. Everyone who is anyone is going to be there." Shiitake started rattling off a list of macro celebrities.

"So you are going then?" Ken asked.

"Well I have to call Val back to confirm but this is the opportunity of my entire incarnation, Ken. It could really launch my career in the macro world as well as being an opportunity to learn so much and have a great time to boot!"

"Are you setting sail alone?" Ken asked in what he hoped was a nonchalant way.

"Oh, I never thought about that. But I may insist that I only travel with my ‘manager’," Shiitake replied with a wink.

Ken’s heart soared and then plummeted to earth again when Shiitake added, "Yes, I think Maithake

would love that. My sister is always talking about going on a cruise and she is as macrobiotically inclined as I am."

Stay tuned to find out what happens when Ken and Shiitake set sail..

"You must be, Shiitake, dear," Ken’s mother exclaimed, ushering them inside. "You are as lovely as Ken has told us." Shiitake immediately warmed to her and filed away her instant visual diagnosis evaluation for later.

"There you go, Mrs. Smith," she told Ken’s mother handing her a bunch of flowers—carefully picked from her own organic garden at the exact phase of the moon to foster good first impressions—and a box of fair-trade, 80-percent-organic-raw-coca, unrefined-beet-sugar-sweetened chocolates.

Ken would have been right behind Shiitake had he not taken a moment to say a hurried "see ya later" to Gloria and to pop one of her jam tarts in his mouth. By the time he pushed his way through the crowd, however, Shiitake was nowhere to be seen. After some skirmishes and tousling with patrons rushing for mid-morning specials at a hydroponic tomato stall, Ken thought maybe Shiitake had jumped into her electric hybrid car and left him stranded. Those tomatoes are far too yin, Ken thought absentmindedly, and I am sure Shiitake would frown on the fact that they are grown without any soil. Ken was starting to realize how Shiitake’s ideas had permeated his existence and how Shiitake herself had found her way into his heart. And then he spotted her. There was his Shiitake in the distance, enveloped in a wild embrace with a muscle-bound, sun-bronzed man clad in Thai fisherman pants and not much else.

"Oh, there you are Ken," said Shiitake without a trace of embarrassment as he approached her. Ken thought she made it sound like he had been the one to wander off, but let that slide. He was more concerned with the burly figure practically enveloping Shiitake who by this stage had pulled Shiitake’s arms behind her while gently placing his knee between her shoulder blades for leverage.

"Thank goodness I found Theo and his Thai Massage stall when I did," Shiitake continued, as if having a conversation in this pose was not unusual. "Thai Massage is like being yoga-ed," she explained to Ken who was looking a little bewildered. "It always helps me to unwind and Gloria tends to wind me up at the best of times."

Shiitake thought she saw Ken cringe a little at that remark and instantly regretted making a point of the encounter with his former flame.

"I’ll just wait over there while you finish unwinding then, Shiitake," he said diplomatically, thinking it couldn’t have been easy for her to find out about his history with Gloria like that.

When Shiitake’s tensions had been completely stretched out of her, she made her way to Ken who had made of point of staying within viewing distance of Theo and his manipulations. Shiitake put her arms around Ken’s waist and gave him a quick hug to signify all was tranquil again in her world. Ken had been standing near the organic wine-tasting stall and was already sampling a drop of preservative-free, biodynamic blueberry wine.

"It’s a little early in the day for that Ken," Shiitake admonished him. "And remember what happened the last time you and alcohol interacted…"

She thought back to the evening they first kissed. Maybe it is not such a bad idea, she thought, and downed a thimble-sized sample of Strawberry Shiraz.

"Come on," Shiitake said, invigorated by the rush it sent through her liver meridian. "Time to see if there is any exciting sourdough bread. I usually bake my own but sometimes there are some artisan’s breads worth looking at."

As Shiitake interrogated the baker, Ken took the opportunity to sample some donuts that may have been handmade, but whose composition was anything but unrefined.

As he put it into his mouth he could feel Shiitake’s eyes on him. He hastily swallowed the last bite, wiped the crumbs from his mouth, and whirled round.

"Babe, did you find any bread?" he asked.

"I think it’s time for you to meet my parents, Shiitake," he said as she sped down the freeway. "What are you doing next Friday night?"

My friend was recently diagnosed with cancer. I feel she has many unresolved emotional issues that need to be addressed for her to heal. She is a private person and has not shown any interest in the emotional release techniques I think will really help her.  How Do I get through to her?

Concerned Friend,

Vancover, BC, Canada

HI CONCERNED FRIEND,

Your friend needs lots of support to help ease what must be a very confronting and difficult experience. If she is resistant to emotional and energy oriented therapies and exploration, my advice is to meet her where she is comfortable.

Most people have some inkling that nutrition is important to how their bodies work, feel, and heal. So perhaps start with that. As her body is remade with vibrant nutrition she may become more open to more subtle, yet just as powerful, influences such as emotional and energetic work.

Sometimes people find the emotional issues too confronting at first. There is much to cope with when faced with such a major diagnosis. Perhaps her focus is tied up dealing with the emotions this situation is bringing up. To be confronted at this time with trying to heal old emotional hurts and issues could be too much and may make her want to hide even more.

Subtly try to encourage her to share her emotions about the current situation. How is this making her feel right now? What are her fears? Her hopes? Just giving voice to her fears may help to ease them somewhat—that can do a lot of good in itself. As the Buddha said, what we fear we create. It is the unvoiced fears—the ones that we don’t want to examine—that do the most harm.

Don’t worry about addressing past issues that you feel may have been affecting things—we only have this moment to change things. Focus on what is right rather than what is amiss. Trying to force someone to do things we think they ought to be doing may be counterproductive. Some people heal with chemotherapy and surgery—like the incredibly inspiring Tour de France champion Lance Armstrong, who had conventional medical treatment, support from his mother and family, and an overwhelming conviction in his recovery. Others heal with herbs and diet, some with meditation and emotional work. Many combine methods.

Although we often want our friends to choose methods we feel would give them the best chance of recovery, it really is up to the individual to select the methods that resonate with them. Often it is more than just the methods that are the key factor in recovery—the conviction that the individual has selected the right path is often paramount. Although this may be viewed partially as the placebo effect, it is actually nothing to be sneezed at. The power of suggestion is powerful in one’s recovery—it should be utilized for its optimal effects.

Powerful as they may be it is not these things that do the healing—it is the innate intelligence of the body that heals whether chemotherapy or Essiac tea is the catalyst. I would not feel comfortable with the former and would try to relate the reasoning behind working with nature, but who am I to impose my belief system?

While reflecting on your question, I was confronted with a similar situation. A relative whose recovery catalyzed by a macrobiotic approach and intensive holistic endeavors, suddenly decided to consider radical surgery despite actually having experienced remarkable healing results. I had to consider the appropriateness of my role and advice. Should I sit back and allow him to make an irreversible decision or should I voice the opinion that there could be another way? 

I knew in my heart that I had to do the latter. I could see that he had lost sight of the bigger picture while experiencing some transient intense pain. Following my advice he decided to continue on his holistic plan and after the easing of pain, he began thinking more clearly. He is now thankful to be on the path that truly resonates with him. The last report I got was that he was hiking daily and enjoying the spring air. He is not keen to explore any energetic or emotional aspects that I think would be useful. I have to understand that and allow him to do what he feels comfortable with.

Ultimately it is the individual’s choice but we can employ what we know in a way that is supportive and encouraging. I wish you much comfort and togetherness.

xoxoxo,

Shiitake

Ken yawned as he paced back and forth in front of his apartment building. He had protested that 7:00 a.m. was way too early to even contemplate getting out of bed on a Saturday, but Shiitake had insisted so they’d be in time for all the best fresh-produce bargains.

Shortly, a small electric hybrid car, in what could only be described as spleen tonifying yellow, roared around the corner and came to a halt just inches from Ken’s feet.

Was that a pair of overalls Shiitake was wearing? He thought they were going to buy the vegetables, not pick them. And why did she have her hair in those plaits?

Shiitake leaned over and threw the passenger door open. "Jump in!" she said. "We’ve got to get a move on before all the freshest vegetables are sold."

Ken had barely folded himself into the cramped passenger seat and pulled his door closed before she pressed the accelerator to the floor. He had of course seen her car before but never tried to squeeze into it.

"What do you think of my Honda Insight Gas/Electric Hybrid car, babe?—it gets great gas mileage and is good for the environment too."

Ken grunted noncommittally, trying not to look too uncomfortable. "I just saw a film in which one of these was featured," he said quickly. "This model was portrayed as the Cadillac of Hybrid Electric Cars." He purposefully didn’t mention that the entire movie was a comedy based on its misadventures—best to break that to her gently some other time.

"Cool," said Shiitake, "I knew this kind of technology would be welcomed by the masses. It won’t be long before the water-technology cars hit the market."

"Aha," said Ken sounding less than convinced. He glanced at the back seat and noticed a pile of reusable shopping bags.

"It’s a plastic-bag-free zone, Ken," she explained handing him a map. "Here, you can navigate."

"You mean you don’t know where we are going?" Ken asked, successfully keeping any trepidation out of his voice, as Shiitake turned onto the freeway out of town.

"Not this one! Isn’t it exciting? I love discovering a new farmers’ market. This one is supposed to be the biggest one for miles around."

"Aha," said Ken again. "I am sure we are in for an exciting morning." It can’t be that rural, Ken thought with relief as Shiitake took the second exit off the freeway. Five minutes later though he became a little concerned. "Hey, haven’t we passed this street before, Shiitake?" he asked.

"All right! All right!" Shiitake admitted sounding a little flustered. "Yes, I thought it looked a little familiar." She pulled over and grabbed the map.

"Are we lost?" asked Ken

"We may have taken a wrong turn somewhere," Shiitake snapped and then blushed at her reaction. She pulled out the address she had scribbled on a post-it note. "I think we need to go back and turn left at one of those intersections. Hopefully there will be some signs to follow. But first I think I need a little sweet vegetable drink—I’m a little too yang from all this driving."

She pulled a stainless steel flask from her bag and took a swig. "Want some Ken? It’s very soothing and helps relax the middle organs of the body so your liver and pancreas don’t get too tight. And, I always keep it in a bottle that doesn’t leech estrogenic mimicking chemicals into the liquid so you are safe on that account."

"No thanks Shiitake," said Ken, "I am not too sure that is what my middle organs need right now…"

Shiitake quickly sprayed some Space Clearing Essence into the air and handed Ken a bottle of Rescue Remedy. "You’re right," she said. "I think you need some of this. Good thinking Ken."

He looked at her in puzzlement then glanced at the description on the bottle she had thrust at him. "Relieves the cause of nervous tension and reactions to stressful situation. Take 2 drops under the tongue." He let 4 drops hit his tongue and let out a deep sigh.

"Good. It’s working already." Shiitake sounded relieved. "Okay, let’s find this market before the stall holders throw away all the leafy greens from the turnips."

She turned the car around and took the next left. "There it is!" she exclaimed, spotting a hand-written sign on the roadside. "Valley Community Farmers Market – next right."

This was the first time Ken had ever been to a farmers’ market. There were stands of homegrown vegetables, freshly baked bread, chutneys, cheese, wines, and plants stretching into the distance. Ken could also see stalls selling hand-churned ice cream, preservative-free nougat, local honey, homemade lip balm, and hand-knitted teapot warmers. This is just what I need, Ken thought. He wished he had brought along his Pocket Guide to Eco-Living, which he had bought not long after meeting Shiitake, so he could identify the rest of the items offered for sale.

"Oooh, I hope we are not too late for those super-fresh turnips with their greens still attached," said Shiitake. "They are one of the richest sources of calcium and other minerals of any land vegetables, you know."

Does Ken’s encounter with his old flame make him realise that Shiitake’s unconventional ways are too much for him? Maybe someone like Gloria is more his type? Does Ken follow Shiitake, knowing an afternoon of sauerkraut making awaits him, or does he decide to stay and taste some more jam?

Ken flung open Shiitake’s bathroom door—skin glistening with drops of chlorine-free, energized water and wrapped only in one of her organic cotton bath towels. "Have you seen my cell phone?" he asked hurriedly, "I forgot to check for calls."

"Yes, it’s right here." Shiitake’s cheeks were smarting with embarrassment at being found with it in her hands. "I picked it up because it kept vibrating and I thought it might be your office and…"

"Well, who was it?" Ken blurted out. Shiitake remembered the knot of tension she had found when shiatsuing his shoulders the previous evening. Could his worry be the cause?

"It was a woman," Shiitake’s voice had lost all expression, "about little Stan…""Oh my goodness!" Ken exclaimed, his face revealing deep concern, "I hope he’s okay. Shiitake, I have to go…" He grabbed his clothes and ran back into the bathroom to dress.

Returning moments later hastily clad, Ken asked, "How about dinner tonight at Wild Ginger? I know it’s one of your favorites. I’ll explain everything then." He gave her a quick kiss on the forehead, snatched his cell phone from her hand, and raced out the door. Shiitake noticed that he had buttoned his shirt incorrectly, but before she could say anything he was gone.

So much for our romantic breakfast, she thought, sinking into a chair and absent-mindedly nibbling on a cold mochi waffle. Try as she may, her thoughts remained on Ken for some time. She thought about blaming it all on karma, chalking it all up to experience, and whipping herself up some millet mashed "potato." But, there was a connection with Ken that she could not deny. And, the image of him appearing in her bathroom door in nothing but a towel was impossible to remove from her head.

So what if he has a son, she told herself. I do like kids. It’s just that he didn’t tell me about him that bothers me. I know we’re just getting to know each other but we really seem to click. Shouldn’t he have shared with me something as central to his life as this?

After a day during which the only creative visualization Shiitake could mange were worst case scenarios about what was going on with Ken, she decided to accept the invitation and to meet him at the whole food restaurant in the city.

I wonder what excuse he will offer, Shiitake mused as she carefully applied her nontoxic, FD and C color-free organic earth pigment lipstick in her favorite shade—adzuki bean shimmer. It wasn’t just for Ken that she wanted to look her best. Sure she was mad at him and didn’t know what the future would hold but she still wanted him to think she was a babe. And then of course there was the venue to consider. Wild Ginger was the place to be seen around town. And, as a high-profile yoga teacher Shiitake knew all eyes would be on her.

Shiitake was already seated and had narrowed down the choices of what to order to the brown rice pilaf with caramelized sweet potato or tofu kebabs with wild crafted basil pesto when Ken arrived at 7:15 p.m. He looked like he had been trying to make up for lost time all day. He placed a red rose beside her on the table and touched her hand as he sat down. Shiitake tried to ignore the jolt of electricity that shot up her arm and passed him a menu.

The conversation was polite but strained. Shiitake speculated whether the dashi stock of her miso soup was freshly made or from a packet containing MSG-like flavor enhancers. She explained the dangers of these excito-toxins to Ken and warned him to stay away from packaged food that contained them. Ken nodded but could tell she was distracted and not her usual animated self. This was obvious while Shiitake explained how her brown rice pilaf would have been more nutritious if the chef had taken the time to pre-soak the grain and had added the salt after the water had come to the boil so the grain could open up more. "It is much easier to absorb the chi that way," she said though Ken knew her heart wasn’t in it.

Ken knew Shiitake was upset that he had dashed off early that morning but could not work out why she was so distraught. She tried her best to hide it but Ken knew her too well

by now. She had barely touched her miso soup and was hardly racking up 30 bites per mouthful of the pilaf. She had not even commented on his progress when he made a point of emphasizing that his tofu lasagna was nightshade free.

The air had been as thick as umesho kuzu all through dinner and it was only when her blueberry couscous cake and Ken’s tofu maple cheesecake arrived that Shiitake blurted out, "Why didn’t you tell me you had a little boy?

Ken almost choked on his cake. "You thought Stan was my son?"

Shiitake nodded. "Barbara said…"

"No, Stan is my nephew, Shiitake! He has been staying with me regularly because my sister, Sally, hasn’t been well—she has Multiple Sclerosis. Barbara’s a neighbor who’s been helping out."

"Oh," Shiitake managed to say. For the first time ever she was at a loss for words.

"Sally is doing a lot better lately—actually since someone at her support group told her about macrobiotics. She is going to the Kushi Institute for a week-long course next month to learn even more. That is how I came to be at Wild Rice Wholefoods the day we met. Everyone in the family is doing their best to be positive and supportive so she can improve her condition."

Shiitake’s heart leapt out of her small intestine where it had been interfering with digestion and blood production all day, bypassed its anatomically correct position, and leapt straight into her throat. It was all she could do to stop tears of compassion spilling into her dessert. She took a big gulp of bancha tea and tried to compose herself.

Ken went on to explain that although he initially became interested in macrobiotics to be supportive of his sister, he was starting to see the merit in it and was really trying to learn the ropes. Shiitake’s heart melted—not only was this guy willing to learn the macro ropes (and boy was she willing to teach), he had a heart chakra the size of the grand canyon!

"Little Stan had been a little peakish yesterday but I thought he was just missing his mother," Ken explained. "It turned out he was running a fever."

"Oh the poor little thing," Shiitake cooed. She rummaged in her handbag and pulled out a small container and some tea bags. "Here, take my ume plums and bancha. That will alkalize his blood and help him feel better fast."

"Thanks Shiitake," Ken said and smiled. He was relieved to see the sparkle back in her tamari-colored eyes. "Stan seems to be over the worst of it. I rushed straight over there and he was already up and watching the morning cartoons. My boss wasn’t happy of course. The UNICEF project is already two weeks behind schedule."

"UNICEF?" Shiitake repeated. " I thought you were in IT?"

"We are building a free fund-raising website for the Feed the Orphans of Africa Campaign," Ken explained matter-of-factly. I joined the eco-aware IT Company to make a difference—we work for free when a good cause is involved."

Shiitake decided to do some Hopi ear candling when she got home. This guy just sounded too good to be true. Could it be that her evening class—Manifesting the Man of Your Dreams—exercises had paid off after all?

What will happen next?

Does Shiitake realize what a good guy Ken is, offer to bring his recovering sister some sweet vegetable drink, and invite Ken on another date—a trip to the local Farmers Market, so they can get better acquainted over some home-grown kale and winter squash?

—OR—

Does Shiitake remember the macrobiotic principle, "the bigger the front, the bigger the back," and think that maybe Ken is too good to be true and that she is better off getting out now? Should she make a hasty excuse about needing to be up bright and early for yoga and make a hasty retreat?

Shiitake heard him stirring noisily. "Good morning, sleepyhead!" she called cheerily, then poked her head around the corner as he was examining the hemp pajamas he found himself in.

Who did these belong to? he thought worriedly. Did Shiitake regularly host overnight male guests? "I see you found them," she said. Snapshots of the night before were coming back and Ken remembered her leaving them with him before she retired to her coconut fiber and latex mattress in the loft. "My brother’s PJ’s seem to be a little snug on you, Zen," she said noting his muscular form filling them out. Her eyes lingered over his broad shoulders as she barely suppressed a shudder of desire. She averted her eyes, wary of him catching her staring at him. They may have expressed their mutual attraction last night but Shiitake didn’t want to overstep the mark too soon.

Quickly she said, "I’ve whipped up some mochi waffles and scrambled tofu for…"Taking one look at his face, she remembered that he had polished off most of the wine. "On second thought I think you may need some ume sho kuzu to settle your stomach! Follow me…"

Ken muttered something about the cobra pose keeping his back in good condition, remembering an article he had skimmed in Newsweek. Shiitake beamed, picturing him enthralled by Iyengar’s Light on Yoga before stretching out on a PVC free eco yoga mat.

She poured the viscous mixture into a mug. I don’t suppose there is any hope of a coffee, he thought, trying not to show his trepidation as she handed it to him.

Ken was about to call it a night and make his way out the door. The cooking class with Shiitake seemed more like a first date to him and he couldn’t help reading more into Shiitake’s warning about the chi obstructing nature of his outer garments. Perhaps they were reflective of some deeper sentiments on her part. Maybe she didn’t want the night to end either. He closed the door and discarded his jacket.

Shiitake couldn’t help eyeing his broad, muscular shoulders with more than a lingering glance. "Boy would I like to shiatsu those," she thought longingly.

She noticed that Ken was looking a little weary and unsteady on his feet and realized he probably had consumed her share of the organic wine as well as his own. She led him back to the futon couch, hit the play button on her surround sound stereo, and suggested he rest while his first proper macrobiotic meal digested.

Shiitake kept glancing at those shoulders practically rippling beneath Ken’s T-shirt. Muttering something about how tense they looked, Shiitake made a beeline for the gall bladder 21 points and began to knead them expertly.

Surprised but delighted, Ken sighed in appreciation. "Wow," he breathed, "that feels wonderful. You really know what you are doing, Shiitake."

"I am fully qualified in Zen Shiatsu, you know, Ken," Shiitake replied mater of factly, trying to disguise her own breathlessness. She found it difficult to feign detachment. Ken was certainly not simply another shiatsu client in her practice.

Ken realized that shiatsu was yet another word he had to look up in his Hip Chick’s Guide to Macrobiotics. From glancing through it he realized that there was just so much he had to learn about macrobiotics. Why hadn’t he studied it more carefully before his "date" with Shiitake? Ah well, he thought, maybe she would personally instruct him.

Shiitake took a deep breath and explained to him how tension gathers at this important juncture midway between the tip of the acromion and the spine at the crest of the trapezius muscle and how vital it was to release it for optimal chi flow and health.

"Yes, of course," he agreed readily. "I never realized how tense I was."

As she made her way along the gall bladder meridian, Shiitake began to wonder what kind of circumstances in Ken’s life were creating tensions that seemed to run so deep. Sure, she experienced her own everyday stresses and strains, juggling her shiatsu practice, yoga teaching schedule, and macrobiotic studies. She recognized that she was more highly strung than she would have liked, but kept the effects at bay with her practice of meditation, yoga, thorough chewing, ginger compresses, and the indulgent 1 percent salt bath that rejuvenated her kidney chi. It seemed that whatever had Ken so wound up would take more than a little "om-ing" and a few downward-facing-dog poses to disperse.

It occurred to Shiitake that during their dinner Ken didn’t reveal too much about himself. She wasn’t quite sure what he did for a living. Did he say something about IT? She would ask him later. Maybe that was what was causing all this tension. Or maybe there was something else. Shiitake was determined to get to the bottom of this mystery. But first things first . . .

He winced a little as she found a particularly tight spot. Then she had an idea.

"Wait right here, handsome," she instructed as she jumped up and headed for the bathroom.

"I’m not going anywhere in a hurry," he murmured dreamily.

Ken was delighted with this turn of events. He couldn’t believe how close he had come to missing this chance by being too reserved. He was just so taken with Shiitake that he hadn’t wanted to blow it. It didn’t seem like there was much chance of that happening with how things were going. He remembered their first encounter at Wild Rice Wholefoods. If there was such a thing as love at first sight, this must be it.

Shiitake returned brandishing a tube of homeopathic arnica rub. "See, it’s for sore muscles, strains, and bruising," Shiitake explained showing him the label.

"Perfect," he agreed. "I must have underestimated that pile of wood I brought in for your wood stove earlier," he said by way of explanation of his shoulder tension.

"Oh no," she replied. Shiitake was horrified to think that she may have contributed to his condition and reapplied herself with renewed fervor. She realized that there must have been some deeper lingering congestion there to allow that kind of reaction. This tension was deep seated.

She opened the tube and said as nonchalantly as she could, "This would be a lot easier on bare skin – it is a homeopathic gel but we don’t want to get any on your T-shirt now . . ."

Ken was certainly not going to argue with this request. Before the words were out of Shiitake’s organic cocoa butter smoothed lips, his T-shirt was on the floor.

As the arnica and Shiitake’s expert shiatsu moves began to take their effect, Ken’s tensions began to melt.

When she had done all she could on his back and shoulders, Shiitake instructed Ken to turn around and pressed a few key points on his hands. She reveled in holding his big strong hands in her own. Then she made her way up the jytsu points on his heart meridian. She could feel the purity and depth of emotion in his heart chakra and could have sworn that his heart was beating in unison with her own.

It was then that Ken opened his eyes and found himself gazing into Shiitake’s. He was mesmerized by her. Her eyes were as dark as bottles of shoyu set against a complexion perfected by daily ginger body rubs and hato mugi dishes. Could there be anyone more lovely?

He knew she felt the electricity between them as well. Her touch softened as her face drifted closer to his, her eyes half closed. He noticed the aroma of jasmine flowers in her hair as he reached up to brush her lips with his own.

Then he pulled away, worried he had overstepped the mark. "I’m sorry, " he muttered. "I don’t know

what came over me. I didn’t mean to take advantage of the . . ."

Shiitake placed a finger on his lips to silence him, then continued where they had left off. "There is no need for any apologies, Zen Ken," she whispered, pausing for air, "you are all yang!"

She picked up the almost empty bottle of wine and poured herself the last glass. She usually drank nothing stronger than bancha tea and wondered where this might lead. . . .

Hi SHIITAKE!

I heard that you grew up in a macro household. Did you ever find it hard when people asked you what you were eating when you brought your brown rice balls along to school or work or on an airplane (and have them mistaken for weapons of mass destruction)? Did the other kids at school make fun of your natto, sauerkraut on sourdough sandwiches? How do your friends react to your macro lifestyle?

Thanks for sharing your ideas.

Macro Student,

London England

DEAR MACRO STUDENT,

Great to hear from you! Thanks for your questions.

Having been brought up in a nori roll loving household, I did have to contend with some unusual lunchbox ingredients. Not only that – I didn’t even have a lunchbox! Forget about the Ninja turtle, Barbie, or Hello Kitty plastic lunchboxes that were all the rage. I was carrying my whole food lunch in a recycled, brown paper bag. My mother was very progressive. Or maybe just a product of her times?!

Now I know that my tempeh sauerkraut sandwiches (I was spared the natto then!) are a much healthier way to feed a kid than the hydrogenated peanut butter and sugar-laden jelly some of my classmates grew up with – and even then I enjoyed them. But sometimes I did think it would have been easier not to have to explain the ingredients of the thing that looked like an unexploded hand grenade that I was munching on.

When I started making my own lunches I decided to make them as colorful, appetizing, and appealing as I could. This is what I took to school in my high school days. I also made my own lunches in college, and when I was in the corporate world.

I do the same when I travel. Now I have people stop me to ask where I bought that delicious looking food. I smile, hopefully not too smugly and tell them it isn’t for sale. Though I often give them a quick tip on how to make it themselves. This has even happened at baseball games!

So it is possible to be the invitation to someone else’s transformation. It is amazing the impact you can have.

Some friends have balked at the responsibility I take for my own well being but most know how committed I am to living in a way that is in my greatest Truth. I know they are my real friends. I have tried to interest them in this way of being and some have been curious, others haven’t. Maybe I was often too forceful. I don’t want to be that way with Ken. I know he is so interested in the macrobiotic way and I see now that these things can’t be forced. People have to be open to the possibilities. Any unsolicited advice is taken as criticism even when given with the best of intentions. By definition it is the statement that the way the person is doing things now is "wrong" in your eyes. That doesn’t mean we can’t be ready with the advice when they come with questions or seeking advice. I am slowly learning to be patient.

Tips from Shiitake’s lunchbox for food on the go. I often take a very light weight stainless steel container filled with brown rice in case I am away longer than I planned. This little bit of planning means that I am not worried about last minute schedule changes and allows me to be more spontaneous. It is an especially good idea if one is on a healing plan where outside food choices may be limited for a time. I have found that it can even take me to an unexpected cafe/restaurant situation in those times, where I would simply order plain steamed vegetables and greens to accompany it.

For packed lunches

• emphasize brightly colored and attractively arranged ingredients.

• if using broccoli cook it lightly so it retains its vibrant color.

• vegetables that hold their shape are great – carrots, green beans, asparagus spears.

• take some umeboshi plums in a little container as a quick pickle and digestive tonic.

• if using nuts or seeds pack them in a separate container so they don’t become soggy.

• pack some bancha tea bags.

• avoid cooked daikon, cabbage, natto, and anything else with strong odors that are often concentrated when packed into containers.

• avoid overly complicated combinations and multiple dishes.

• pack something light that will sustain you but won’t weigh you down.

• pack enough to satisfy your appetite and maybe a little extra so you won’t feel tempted to go hunting for food afterwards with less nourishing options.

• invest in reliable, sturdy containers and cutlery that is light-weight.

• pack a little napkin.

• For cold weather, Japanese style thermal lunch containers are a great idea.  There is nothing like a warm lunch to look forward to and enjoy in the middle of winter when out and about.

 Here are some of my favorite lunches to go:

• brown rice nori rolls made with colorful fillings.

• tempeh fingers – marinate in shoyu, mirin, and ginger juice and bake in the oven until dry and slightly crisp.

• pasta and vegetables.

• "planned leftovers" from dinner – aromas and flavors tend to intensify with some dishes, which is great for the latter, but not al ways for the former, so perform a sniff test before packing it up to go.

• sourdough whole grain bread sandwiches (especially good when you don’t want to make a statement).

• chunks or slices of Essene (sprouted grain) bread. This makes a nice and satisfying quick meal and is also nice with a thermos of soup depending on the variety of the loaf. If you are game you can even dunk them in the soup if it is a wide mouth thermos.

• nori triangles (so much more "today" than rice balls). Use plain rice or rice mixed with sunflower and sesame seeds, shiso powder, and chopped mint for a new twist.

• but you can’t go past the classic rice balls when you want to feel really centered. They represent the Earth, you know – so I do include them on my list. Just make them small so you can eat them gracefully.

• steamed broccoli, asparagus, carrots and green beans – great finger food.

• fresh or pressed salad in a little tub.

• almonds, pecans, walnuts, pumpkin or sunflower seeds (or a combination). I like to soak them overnight in mildly salty water to deactivate enzyme inhibitors and to take the digestive stress off my delicate pancreas, and then lightly toast them to dry them out. A little goes a long way.

• miso soup in a thermos.

• thick vegetable soup in a wide mouth thermos – take some puffed mochi in a separate container and throw them in when you open it. Mmm. . . .

• whole grain muffins, I find them a little crumbly for my liking but you can bake them to be smaller and firmer.

• whole grain waffles with or without a spread packed separately – try miso and tahini or squash "butter." They also can be dunked in soup

• some chewy and moist whole-some cookies made with whole grain fl our and unrefined sweeteners, as a treat. Try to avoid overly dry ones that will have you searching for fluids for the rest of the day. Dunk into your bancha tea. Go on, indulge.

xoxoxo,

Shiitake