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The therapeutic potential of classical music has long been recognized. Lower the volume on the stereo and al ow your favorite classical music to waft softly through the air. You might choose Mozart, Strauss, Tchaikovsky, Chopin, or Vivaldi. Listen to gentle, relaxing music. It wil calm you down in times of stress and make you feel better about yourself.

C. Move your body! Exercise!

Caution:

Walk or jog. Swim or run. Find a sport or

activity that moves you—and move! Dance,

Seek professional advice

dance, dance as often as you have a chance!

before using essential

Dance is a pleasant physical exercise which

oils if you have a

allows us to express our emotions through

long-standing medical

movement. A popular aphorism in Europe

condition such as asthma,

is: Those who dance a lot live a lot. When

heart disease, high blood

we feel comfortable in our lives, we win the

pressure, or diabetes.

fight with distress.

People who are allergy

When I found out I had been accepted

prone or have sensitive

as a new student at Moscow State University,

skin should consult their

I was overjoyed. But at the same time I had a

herbalist or physician

plaintive feeling that something very close and

prior to selecting an

familiar was missing from my life. Certainly, as a aroma. Before use, always

freshman far from home, I missed my family and

dilute in a carrier oil

the whole environment in which I grew up. My head

such as apricot kernel or

was swimming, and I couldn’t have guessed then,

sweet almond.

but now I know I was suffering from distress.

Don’t Be Afraid of Good Stress @ 193

One day as I sat on an oak bench in our garden reading a book, I began really to look at the beautiful settee I was relaxing on. Grandpa and my father had made that bench by hand. The seat back was meticulously and intricately hand-carved with motifs of ancient Rome. The bench was an attractive centerpiece in our garden. On both sides Grandpa and my father had formed realistic oak leaf designs to pay reverence to this mighty tree.

Oak and walnut trees grew all around, towering above the bench and casting shadows that provided shade in the hot summer. It was my favorite place to think, dream, talk to Mother Nature, and read. It was a special place also to share my secrets with Grandma, my close girlfriends, and, of course, to meditate and communicate with the world of trees, birds, and azure sky. Grandma used to say, “First of all, when you wake up in the morning, take a quick look at the sky . . . this endless spacious blue expanse . . . and you will feel comfortable.”

The ancient Greeks believed that if you looked at the sky, even for a minute, it would cleanse your body, soul, and spirit and relieve you from “moral intoxication.”

The garden bel , buoyed by the summer breeze, jingled a delicate melody. I was happy to be home again for summer vacation. A smal shred of blue sky peeked through the branches of our old walnut trees as I read the works of the Russian poet and singer, Boulat Okoudjava. (You can hear him sing his heartfelt poems in Russian at http://www. russia-in-us.com/Music/Artists/index.html. Here, sitting on this familiar and comforting bench, I began to daydream about the impact the changing seasons had on this spectacular garden. From spring to late fall, a profusion of flowers blossomed in Grandma’s garden, but in winter under a blanket of snow, bulbs lay dormant and Grandma patiently waited for her favorite flowers to arrive. Finally the first messengers of awakening Nature arrived—delicate, milky-white snowdrops softly blowing in a tender breeze.

In “The Snowdrop” (1863) by Hans Christian Andersen, this spring flower was always wondering.

194 ^ Mama’s Home Remedies

I t was winter time; the air was cold, the wind

was sharp, but within the closed doors it was

warm and comfortable, and within the closed door lay

the flower; it lay in the bulb under the snow-covered

earth. One day rain fell. The drops penetrated through the snowy covering down into the earth, touched the flower bulb, and talked of the bright world above. Soon the Sunbeam pierced its way through the snow to the root, and within the root there was a stirring.

“Come in,” said the Flower.

“I cannot,” said the Sunbeam. “I am not strong enough to

unlock the door! When the summer comes, I shall be strong!”

“When will it be summer?” asked the Flower, and she repeated this question each time a new sunbeam made its way down to her. But the summer was yet far distant. The snow still lay upon the ground, and there was a coat of ice on the water every night.

“What a long time it takes! What a long time it takes!”

said the Flower. “I feel a stirring and striving within me; I must stretch myself, I must unlock the door, I must get out, and must nod a good morning to the summer, and a

happy time that will be!”

In an old legend that Grandma breathed new life into, snow fell as Adam and Eve were banished from Paradise. There was no place for Eve to hide from the frost. Then several snowflakes transformed into beautiful flowers and offered her a sign of hope. From then on, the modest snowdrop was a symbol of hope.

White snowdrops rocked in the cradle

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