Tune Up Your Bowels, Change Your Story

Constipation may be the cause of all your problems.

Is it time you allowed your body to let go, to naturally empty itself of all waste, impurities, defilements and everything else you are holding onto that no longer serves you?

Besides the incredible discomfort of irregularity, blocked bowels put us at risk for serious health problems. Many yogis believe constipation is the cause of virtually every problem that hits the human body, including paralysis and stroke. Storing toxins and waste the body has decided must be cast off is dangerous. Not only are you what you eat, you are what you store.

The formal medical term for being seriously constipated is autointoxication, self-poisoning caused by endogenous microorganisms, metabolic wastes, or other toxins produced within the body. Also known as autotoxemia, the symptoms include muddy thinking, short temper, poor decision-making, bad reflexes, bad breath, low energy and agitation.

Unfortunately, many of us, out of impatience, ignorance and desperation, resort to harsh and unnecessary chemical laxatives to force our bowels into action. Over time, such extreme measures take a toll on our finely tuned body, and naturally managed regularity becomes even more difficult to achieve. Some laxative manufacturers claim upwards of 80 percent of women are constipated.

Enemas and suppositories are far gentler, but again, unless used sparingly, they sabotage whatever training you are trying to give your Inner Pony. Becoming dependent on anything other than the easy functioning of a healthy system is most unwise, and, pun intended, it bites you in the butt.

A close friend was once vacationing far from home, and constipation was her constant companion. Panicked, she bought two enema kits and hid them under her seat on the tour bus, looking forward to some relief later at the hotel. During the day of frequent stops and starts, her bag of unusual souvenirs slid to the back of the bus. You can guess the rest of the story, the bus driver announcing on his microphone, “Will the person who left a bag of two enema kits pick them up at the front of the bus?”

We tend to be easily embarrassed when the subject is elimination. In India, Ayurvedic physicians ask openly about bowel habits. Far from a topic to avoid, its influence is widely regarded and heeded. Our bodies are marvelously made, and made to work for years and years. When a function as key and routine as moving the bowels becomes impaired, we must pay attention.

I’ve had friends who’ve ended up in the emergency room with impacted bowels, even after self-administered but failed enemas, laxatives and the like. Like Yoga, there is no short cut to success. Regular practice is the only sure way to mastery.

Your Constitution is a Big Determinant
My father likes to brag about the number of times a day he enters the “throne room”, to evacuate his bowels. For those around him who experience this effort much less frequently and with more difficulty, his boasting is annoying.

How much credit can he really take for so successfully making daily donations to the bowl?

How much must we praise his genetic makeup, his constitution, for this ease of letting go?

Within Ayurvedic medicine, we are taught that there are three basic constitutions or body types: Vata, Pitta and Kapha. Called the three Doshas, most people have some aspect or qualities of each of the three within them, but rarely is someone evenly balanced, or tridosha. Ayurveda teaches that essentially, any internal pain we suffer is related to a Dosha imbalance.

All living things have one or more Dosha, which are comprised of different arrangement of the five elements or energies that make up life: water, air, space, fire and earth. Examining a single cell, from an Ayurvedic viewpoint, the outer wall of the cell or structure is associated with Kapha (made of water and earth); the center or nucleus is associated with energy or Vata (made of space and air) and what is in between is the chemical activity, or Pitta (made of fire and water.).

From a most basic standpoint, Vata controls what is called the wind in the body, the movement like bowels, blood, breath, thoughts. When a Vata being gets sick, they usually find their vulnerability lies in what we call the mental area, insomnia, depression, panic attacks; their minds race and bowels stop. Vata body type is generally on the slim side and small boned.

Pitta is associated with fire or metabolism, that means digestion and when disordered, inflammation and infection. Pitta is often the Dosha of those body types of medium build, with freckles, red hair and short tempers.

Kapha is the more inert of the three, associated with structure, bones, phlegm and the waterlogged part of our being. When out of balance, Kapha leads to the flu, sinus trouble, weight gain. Procrastination and being slow to take action is also a Kapha quality. When a person has big wrists and ankles, we call them big boned, a sure sign of Kapha presence.

Note: When determining body type, a general rule involves measuring bone size by wrapping one hand around the other wrist. If fingers overlap, Vata. If fingers touch, Pitta. If fingers don’t meet, Kapha.

With this simple understanding, we can conclude that constipation is essentially a sign that Vata is out of balance. Beyond just reviewing one’s own body type and tendencies toward disease, we can also learn our Dosha by listening to our pulses, the three point Ayurvedic way.

With your right hand, wrap your three fingers around your wrist. You will feel the pulse. Each finger represents a Dosha. The index finger is where the Vata pulse is felt. The middle finger for Pitta and the ring finger for Kapha. By determining where the pulse feels the strongest, you identify the predominant Dosha. A throbbing index finger means Vata is strong. Check Pitta next, lift the index finger up and feel underneath the middle finger. If it is stronger than the Vata pulse, you are probably Pitta or Kapha dominant, or a combination. Determining Doshas is tricky, as a strong pulse can also mean an imbalance in a particular Dosha. It is common to have more than one Dosha operating in our body and even to have them change somewhat over our lifetime.

As you get into the habit of checking these pulses, you may notice changes in their strength, which can be an indication of imbalance or illness. For the constipated, Vata is always strong.

The Story Your Bowels Tell
Just as we each have an individual, personalized understanding of our favorite food or meal, we also have unique experiences of constipation.

Deciding to end constipation, you begin a wonderful adventure with your body, an opportunity to get to know yourself from, literally, the inside out. Don’t get caught up in thinking this is “gross or unpleasant;” that is actually part of your problem. Until you accept elimination as a natural part of being you, it will remain a problem.

Your goal is bowels that function easily, reliably, painlessly, fully. I suspect you would like to know when and where you will have one or more daily movements. One family member has always seemed stunned by the sudden knock, knocking, knocking on her rectum door. Typically, we are at the grocery store when the urge hits her, immediately and insistently. “It’s now!” she whispers wide-eyed, bolting for the dirty bathroom for employees only. Knowing where all the public toilets are in her circle of travel is essential.

The Indian toilet, squatting over a hole rather than sitting on a tall porcelain stool, is far more effective for evacuating the bladder and bowels. With the left knee pressed up against the descending colon and the internal organs squeezed, elimination is encouraged. Sitting primly on the Western toilet, no pressure is applied nor action stimulated.

One consequence of this design difference is that those who use upright Western-style toilets are great consumers of laxatives. Poor elimination of waste and toxins from the body is a, if not the, major cause of illness and eventually, hospitalization. Your medical chart won’t say, “Brought down by being backed up,” but that’s the truth.
I suspect you are tired of straining to produce some results, as well. My Abhyanga massage teacher, Dr. Nedungadi, liked to pantomime the constipated patient on the toilet…teeth and fists clenched, eyes bugging out of the head, deep grunting breaths and finally an exhausted, “Thank you!” Few of us are totally unfamiliar with this tortured experience. If this is basically your bowel’s story, you have the power to change it.

With straining can come bleeding and hemorrhoids, which are part of my old story.

Hemorrhoids, Inactivity, Diet and Weight
I think pregnancy is when I first noticed my bulging rectum, and during a prenatal examination the doctor confirmed I had already given birth to my first hemorrhoid. I was horrified, thinking ‘roids were limited to the domain of truck drivers and old, old people. How could this happen? I was 27!

Certainly, my added weight was putting pressure on my rectum. And I was less active, having gained close to 50 pounds (21 kilograms) before my delivery date. Even my feet spread out another half shoe size.

Looking back, I can see my pregnancy hemorrhoid was conceived by my overeating. In my head or not, I felt ravenously hungry for nine months. Having always been conscious of my weight, I had a great excuse for eating with abandon. Even if I watched my weight, my waist had disappeared, might as well have that second or even third serving of a sweet dessert.

Unaccustomed to the job I gave them, my intestines had trouble processing all the excess food and fats. YogaSir explains that we store fat in the lower half of our body as it is shortest trip, traveling from the large intestine or colon nearby to the hips, butt and belly. Moving fat cells all the way up to our backs and upper arms typically happens when we have exhausted the storage areas in our lower trunk.

In its wisdom, the body works hard to store no fat around or near organs, to protect their proper functioning. Only when we’ve run out of hiding places for fat does it wrap around the heart, liver and other organs.

My pregnant self was eating way too many carbohydrates, probably eating for three and that means pooping for three. No wonder I felt the urge to push so hard.

Tummy Muscles are Important
As a pregnant woman, I couldn’t activate my abdominal muscles properly. They were stretched to their maximum, and no longer even visible to me. Place your hands on the strong muscular wall below the naval and do Dr. Nedungadi’s pantomime: push as if forcing a bowel movement. Can you feel those muscles contract, assisting the large intestine by giving a good squeeze?

Whenever I meet with someone who wants to change their bowels’ performance, I look at the amount of belly fat they are carrying. When fat is really out of control, it is called an apron, hanging off the front of the body. I once sat next to a man on a plane with such a giant apron; he couldn’t bring the tray table down for the flight attendant to place his meal. “Well,” I thought to myself, “Maybe he will wisely skip this meal.” But no, he placed the tray on his gut and inhaled every morsel.

I will bet my life savings though, that tasting was the only pleasant part of his eating experience. Digestion was clearly going to be painful for his overworked system, weighed down by stored fat. And with such a weak apron, he would have little assistance pushing out the remains of the meal. Ugh. Having already bet my life savings, I will have to bet my next life’s savings that he has a bleeding anus, as well, as he struggles unnaturally to accomplish one of our most natural acts.

So how hard can we push, anyway? What is the right amount of pressure, to avoid hemorrhoids and straining?

In general, a good rule to follow is to not exert any harder than you would blowing your nose while seated on the toilet. In fact, as a way of retraining yourself to comfortably pass solids, you can sit on the toilet and consciously blow your nose, getting familiar with that level of pressure on the bowels.

But learning about pushing is merely an interim step in this new relationship you are creating with your elimination system. When everything is working in top form, there is little or no pushing. Solids exit the body as painlessly as when the food entered.

Make Energy, Not Cement
I’ve yet to meet an overeater who pigs out on vegetables or fruits. When we overeat, it is usually succumbing to cravings for bulk, for carbohydrates, the Comfort Foods. In the West, it is typically wheat. In the East, rice is the drug of choice. In both places, excess fat and sugar accompany these primary starches.

Living in both places, I acclimate to the overeating of the culture! Whether consuming too many rotis or pieces of toasted bread, I turn my digestive system into a cement mixer.

The cement mixer metaphor works well for me. I imagine slowly grinding dry sand and stone with water, cranking hard to wet the heavy mass and move it on and out.

When I’m eating well, I have quite a speedy gut. Within eight hours of eating I usually see a meal exit. But on those days when I have eaten more than three servings of wheat or other starches, show time is delayed indefinitely.

The secret to consuming food that becomes energy and not cement is about what you decide to eat; or more accurately, who is making the decision.

When I get in trouble on the toilet, it is because Mr. Tongue picked the menu.

I think that proverb is so wise, I’m going to repeat it: When I get in trouble on the toilet, it is because Mr. Tongue picked the menu.

Mr. Tongue only has one criterion for admission: what does it taste like? He has no interest or involvement with the foreign matter once it leaves his domain. He has no idea about nutritional value, the ease of digestion or the difficulties facing the rectum. He is the Master of Impulse, both in speaking and eating. And when I allow Mr. Tongue to be impulsive, the rest of my life pays the price. As our grandmothers told us, “once on the lips, forever on the hips.” A saying, incidentally, that means nothing to Mr. Tongue.

As an interim step when rewriting the story of your bowels, it is wise to consult Miss Stomach about what you are planning to ingest. How much work will it be? What time of day are you asking her to remain open and active? Is she already full and busy?

What About Eating Meat
For years, I or members of my family flirted with partial or full-blown vegetarianism. Certain events triggered the change, like reading Upton Sinclair’s The Jungle, about the horrors of the Chicago slaughterhouses in the 1920s.

I remember the only time my father sent me from the dinner table to my room, without finishing my meal, was when I sang, “When lips meet lips” as I was putting a hot dog in my mouth. He considered my behavior an insult to the cook, my mother. I never intended to hurt my mother; I was insulting the hot dog manufacturer.

Our digestive and elimination systems are those of an herbivore, that is, a non meat-eating creature. We aren’t designed to digest meat, so no wonder it is such hard work for our bodies. Meat is complex muscle mass, it takes a lot of gastric juice and peristalsis to break it down and move the unusable out of the body.

Dr. Nedungadi asked two questions that made vegetarians out of most of my massage class. “Why do you want to make your large intestine an animal burial ground?” and “Why do you want to ingest the fear the animal felt at the time of slaughter?” I invite you to answer these questions for yourself.

Yogis stress the importance of eating live food. Swami Rama asked his disciples to throw a piece of meat and some grain or seeds on the ground and see which one grows. His students learned that meat is dead and lacks any life force.

Not only are we not created to eat meat, we don’t eat carnivores, either. Tigers, dogs and other meat eaters are not part of our diet.

Remember Elvis Presley’s death and autopsy? Found dead on his toilet, silk pajama bottoms at his feet. Was Elvis pushing so hard that he passed a clot to his brain? The coroner revealed Elvis had five pounds of undigested meat in his colon.

My first Ayurvedic massage, at the Birla Center for Hast Jyotish in Cheneville, Quebec, Chandan, my masseur, said to me, “You don’t eat meat, do you?”

Was he psychic? “How do you know?” I asked.

Doing reflexology, he was squeezing the part of my left foot that represented the descending colon. “Your colon is so soft, no hard spots,” he explained.

Years later, after completing my own studies in Ayurveda and reflexology, a massage client called me from her hospital bed.

“Bethany, I had half of my stomach removed five days ago, and I haven’t been able to move my bowels. I am in agony, but they won’t give me anything, for fear of bursting my stitches. Can you help me?”I asked Emma to put her nurse on the phone. “They aren’t comfortable with that kind of care,” she whispered. Instead, I told Emma and she told a visiting friend about the spot on the left foot, the magic button that Chandan had first shown me. “Work in a clockwise fashion, press hard and keep circling down and around, you’ll get the bowels moving,” I instructed.

Less than 10 minutes later, my phone rang again. A jubilant Emma on the line, “It worked! The nurses can’t believe it! I feel so good, Bethany!” Sharing the joy we experience when nature takes her course, I said to Emma, “I’m so happy for you. I do hope you named it after me!” We laughed together, as I have with other clients, who shared their painful secret and changed the story of their bowels.

During our Abhyanga massage course, Dr. Nedungadi taught us about what he called the, “Million dollar button.” Located at the cleft of the chin, it is linked to the bowel meridian, one of many invisible lines on the body that run from top to toe. Dr. Nedungadi showed us how to help a constipated client by simply massaging this button. He also encouraged us when our own system got backed up to sit and squeeze the chin cleft, appearing to be deep in thought, but more accurately, deep in hope!

No Meat, Little Wheat, Less Sweet
Beyond meat and wheat, the bowels struggle with sweets. Of course, the bowels aren’t alone in being overwhelmed with our sugary diet. The poor pancreas forever has to fire up at different times of day and night to ramp our insulin factory up and down.

My own awakening to the incompatibility of sweets with my process of elimination came in India. I was enjoying a 12-day cleanse, consuming only limejuice with a taste of jaggery (natural brown sugar) and a pinch of cayenne pepper. This drink helps the body detox and purify; the lime cleanses, the sugar provides some energy and the pepper keeps the Pitta digestive fires burning. Note: Only do this cleanse under doctor’s supervision. Certain body types (particularly Pitta Dosha) can develop a bleeding ulcer.

During the fast, I was also doing three hours or more of Yoga a day, including Pranayama, which included rectum locks.

Taking a drive with a neighbor on Day 10 of the fasting cleanse, we stopped in a busy marketplace to do an errand. I sat in the air-conditioned car and absent-mindedly read the store signs. “Amul Ice Cream” one screamed at me, in bright colors.

I instantly became aware of Mr. Tongue actually pulsing. I was stunned by the sensation, as I had honestly not missed any food at all during the cleanse. Before I could mentally translate the sensation into a thought, I felt my rectum squeeze tightly, uttering a clear, “no!”

King Rectum is the real author of my bowel’s story. In that moment, sitting in the back seat of an SUV in Bangalore, I ended a chronic health problem. For decades, I have had an itchy rectum. Rarely have I gotten my courage up to talk with anyone about it, so forbidden are such below the belt conversations. With or without hemorrhoids (yes, I had that banding procedure done…what a way to blow $5000!) I periodically have such a terrific desire to scratch my anus, it has been awful. One health practitioner theorized I wasn’t being careful in my wiping, so I became scrupulous is this process, even buying a commercial disposable, medicated wipe for a squeaky clean anus. But nothing stopped the itching.

King Rectum stopped it, telling me in clearly that ice cream was no longer on the menu. By restricting my sugar intake, I ended the itch at my end.

Training Your Pony
Somewhere along my own path of rewriting my bowel’s story, I came to think of my whole system of elimination as a pet pony. This pony required my attention, my disciplined training, my daily repetitive instruction. I committed myself to having perfectly functioning bowels, bowels that produced a movement every morning within five to 15 minutes of arising from bed.

Dr. Nedungadi proposed the possibility, when he advised us that a healthy being spends the night parallel to the earth, wakes and becomes perpendicular, and then sits to poop. That simple. That easy. That natural. The Three Ps.

I found my bowels were particularly unreliable when I traveled. Thinking of the pony, I realized she was unfamiliar with a new barn, a new ring to walk around in, different food and water. No wonder she didn’t perform on schedule. I needed to be especially attentive to her new surroundings; I needed to accommodate this change.

Long believing that my mind and body are not two but one, I work on the physical, mental and emotional levels when addressing a health problem.

I knew that my best bowel movements were at home, in the privacy of my own bathroom. (By the way, ladies, I don’t advise having sex with any man that you can’t comfortably have a bowel movement around. There is something Not Right about allowing intimacy on one level and being unable to relax in another normal natural act with the same person present. Consult your bowels about what you want to eat, as well as whom you sleep with!)

When traveling, I can’t bring my bathroom with me, but I do bring my routine. Here is my 10-point plan for Good Bowel Health. Start with these steps, you can modify anything later. Adding exercise, breathing (see the post on yoga and breathing) and meditation will also support you.

In terms of creating good terms and conditions in your life, respecting your own privacy and letting go of the need to perfect will help, as well. If you have trouble giving things away, you'll often find your bowels are equally stingy!

10 Point Plan
1. Know what to avoid (no meat, less wheat, little sweet). Limit wheat to one serving per day, you can add more as bowels regulate. Do you really need to be reminded of the evils of fried foods? OK...don't eat them!
2. Know the side effects of medications you take: can they cause sluggishness or constipation?
3. Know whom to consult (King Rectum and Miss Stomach; Mr. Tongue is of little help, except when it comes to poison!)
4. Make sure green, yellow or red vegetables are the largest serving on your noon and evening plate. Veggies provide the fiber for a clean sweep of the bowels.
5. Always begin the day with fruit. For best results, also eat a bowl of old fashioned oats for breakfast. Bonus: oats lower cholesterol, pulling fats out of the body.
6. Eat the big meal of the day in the middle of the day.
7. Eat very light at night, little starch, nothing after 6 p.m., and do not eat cold and hot foods at the same time.
8. Snack on nothing but raw vegetables, fresh fruit and plenty of hot water. You can't overdose on apples, enjoy them when you crave sweets, too.
9. Drink eight or more glasses of room temperature or body temperature water daily.
10. Go to the toilet expecting a bowel movement at the same time every day. Sit for a while, relaxed. If you want to read, do so. Don’t push harder than blowing your nose pressure. If nothing happens, don’t judge yourself. Be patient, you have a lot of letting go to do.

In Ayurvedic medicine, we are advised that ideally, one should have as many poops as meals each day. Further, we are cautioned to not eat a meal unless you have evacuated your bowels since the last meal, that is, don’t eat on top of an undigested meal.

Our systems are not all identical, given our Doshas. Pay attention to when you naturally find yourself having a movement. I am a morning pooper. I am aware of this, and therefore I treat my pony accordingly.

After I rise, I drink plenty of water, up to 16 ounces; to replenish the water my body has lost during the night, by sweating, digestion and other body functions.

Note: We recommend room or body temperature water, as it is easiest for the body to process. Warmth encourages the bowels; it helps move the action along.

More than fifty years ago, one of the pioneers in the US fitness movement, Bonnie Prudden began instructing her students on a fail safe way to drink eight glasses of water a day. Stack eight coins on one end of the counter or windowsill by the kitchen sink. Every time a glass of water is consumed, move a coin to the other side of the counter or sill. At the end of the day, it is easy to check to make sure all eight coins traveled, or its time to drink more water.

I recall hearing how Rena Marcotte, founder and operator of Maple Lane Nursing Home in Barton, Vermont, toileted her patients. Rena’s son Gary tells the story of the early days of the facility, when his mother single- handedly cared for 14 patients. “I remember she would bring a glass of prune juice to every resident each morning,” Gary said. “Then she would come around again with a cup of hot coffee for everyone.”

“The third time she came around, she put them each on the toilet. It worked every time.” Rena was a master trainer of ponies.

For the 11 nights and 12 days in silence at the Vipassana Meditation Course, 20 women shared a common bathroom. I had no control over the menu or meal times and only about 20 minutes every day to walk. We were asked to not practice Yoga or any other form of exercise, but to keep ourselves focused for the 10 hours of daily meditation.

I told my pony before we left that I would be gentle and do whatever I could to keep our routine. Each morning, I rose and drank my water. I then squatted into the posture I do to encourage a movement, the very same position used for the Indian style toilet. This squat activates the descending colon, as the left knee and thigh are pushing against the colon, encouraging movement downwards. YogaSir encourages lifting of the left heel off the floor to put more pressure on the area.

During the first two hours of seated meditation each day I periodically pulsed and locked my rectum. On the fourth morning at the course, immediately following the two-hour morning meditation, I had a movement.

A light breakfast was served, where I restricted myself to fruit and hot milk only. Most days I would also have a cup of hot water. (As a yogi, I do not drink caffeine or alcohol.)

Following this first meal of the day, I would take a 20-minute walk, which was typically followed by a second bowel movement.

I followed this routine for my entire stay at the Vipassana center, and it never varied. When I think of all the hours I sat on a concrete floor, which is one way of encouraging the production of hemorrhoids, I was so pleased with my pony. I feel the rectum locking had a lot to do with prevention of ‘roid development, as this is my weakness.

At mid day, I ate a large meal of vegetables and rice. At 5 I had warm milk and fruit again. I did not expect another movement until the following day, and my pony complied.

No matter where I am, I have come to see it is wisest to not eat much at night, and certainly not after 6 p.m.

I can hear lots of readers slamming the book shut with these dinner instructions, or at least beginning their power whines, “That just won’t work for me, that is impossible.” After all, most dinners in an Indian household don’t seem to start till 9 p.m. or later!

Well, enjoy your irregularity is all I can say. Unless you have a very cooperative system, at least in the early days of training your pony, late night eating must be avoided. Eating after dark makes your stomach work hard all night. Many clients will say, “But I get so hungry after 9 or 10.” Ayurveda and Yoga again explain that we mistake the activation of the natural evening digestive cycle as a message of hunger. In actuality, the body is just firing up to do some digesting of the current stomach contents. The sensation you feel is not hunger, your body is not calling for more food.

Ramping Up Your Campaign
For those of us who are Type A personalities, even when it comes to wanting to have award winning bowel stories, yes you can jumpstart the process and get your pony moving.

Constipation is not an isolated aspect of your life. Rather, it is another one of those flashing lights on your body’s dashboard, reminding you to “check engine.”

In this case, check engine requires you do a thorough review of your lifestyle and habits.

To generalize, in my practice I have found that constipation is closely linked to one or more of the following challenges:

Being anxious
Fear of someone close, like spouse, roommate or parent
Perfectionism
Being a pleaser
Being more outer than inner focused
Hoarding, collecting, over-acquiring
Being inactive and inert

Being Anxious, Fearful
When we have difficulty relaxing, our bowels share that problem. Being uptight (the slang is “being a tight ass”) our bowels, particularly our rectum, don’t fully open and release. When tension is great in the body, that fecal matter can remain impacted for days and days.

In the early 1990s, I spent a summer at Duke University’s Divinity School, as part of the local pastor training program of the United Methodist Church. I was randomly assigned a female roommate to share campus housing. My roommate, Mitzy, was a southern woman, and our differences were quickly apparent. I’m sure she regarded me as too open, informal and perhaps even ill-mannered.

I immediately had trouble having a bowel movement. In those days, I knew little about tending my system of elimination, other than to have a packet of matches in the bathroom to camouflage any odors I might leave behind.

Mitzy was orderly and organized. Before we sat to eat, she would wash the food preparation items and fill the sink with hot water. Her bedroom was full of neatly folded items and her study desk was carefully organized. Truly there was method in her Methodism. I quickly began to feel inadequate, aware of her glances at my desk, my bed, my dresser top.

My bowels also noted the tension of our arrangement and decided to shut down completely. A few frantic calls to my husband sent me shopping for my first container of that orange flavored natural laxative drink. Four days of this drink left my belly incredibly distended and gassy, but no other action occurred in the southern hemisphere. My evening calls back home were tense and terse. “That stuff is not working!” I would whisper accusatively, as if he was somehow remote-controlling my bowels. He kept reassuring me and saying it would work.

A dirigible in bed at night, I would wake to sounds of my own flatulence, and Mitzy’s crisp, annoyed voice, “Was that you?” Oh man, yeah, I guess so.

I spent long sessions in the toilet, but noxious tooting was all I could achieve. After one such lackluster performance, I returned to the breakfast table. “I need to ask if you are smoking marijuana in the bathroom,” Mitzy said, with all the tact of a warden in a women’s prison.

I was shocked. “I don’t smoke marijuana, I don’t smoke anything!” I said, wondering what kind of pastor she thought I was, or she was.

“Well, what are you doing with those matches in the bathroom, and spending so much time in there?”

I wanted to scream, “Trying to have a dump that won’t come because you make me so nervous!” Instead, I muttered something about a poor man’s air freshener and went to class.

After close to a week, on a lovely sunny afternoon between classes, I found an isolated bathroom on the divinity school campus and let go and let God. I vowed that I would no longer let Mitzy run me or my bowels.

Perhaps you have a similar source of discomfort in your environment that makes your bowels withdraw. Use your constipation as you use any check engine light; notice what you need to change.

Perfectionism, Pleaser, Outer Focused
When we are dependent on the opinions of others for our self-confidence and identity, we often have little awareness of our bodies or moods. We are tuned to The Other, how to please them, engage them, receive their praise. Rather than being the star in our own life, we play the part of best supporting actress in the lives of Others.

Appearances become overly important when we have this mindset, and we can devote hours to makeup, hair and clothing in the morning, leaving little or no time for such a private act as a bowel movement. After all, whether we make time for a movement or not does not matter to others, and we are living for their approval!

Like my experience as the fearful, tense divinity student, you may find your bowels don’t seem connected to you, and refuse to cooperate. You don’t make time to sit quietly on the toilet, as you don’t like time alone of any kind. Perhaps you see time spent alone as being taken from The Other, who might well be waiting for you to prepare breakfast, pack a bag lunch or drop them off at school. One’s own bowel movement is an after- thought at the most, and this is a metaphor for one’s whole life. When we don’t put ourselves first, our bowels tell that story. They end up needing to be emptied at the most inopportune times, because we have ignored them for hours. Suddenly, we can delay no and an emergency strikes.

We must learn to relax and provide ourselves the necessary attention and self care to be healthy, functioning human beings. Earlier, I mentioned the family member who inevitably needs to have a movement when on her weekly grocery shopping trip. Shopping, she is relaxed and not totally focused on serving others. She moves at a more leisurely pace through the store, allowing her whole body to release tension and unwind. In this state of calm and inner peace, her bowels signal naturally to her that they are ready to empty. And when she is ready to pay more attention to herself, her bowels will give her a natural, daily signal, right at home, in the privacy of her own, clean, personal bathroom.

Hoarding, Collecting, Over-Acquiring
The brilliant metaphysical pioneer Louise Hay first awakened me to the connection between not letting go of things and constipation. In her classic guide (a must for all family libraries) Heal Your Body A to Z, the Mental Causes for Physical Illness and the Metaphysical Way to Overcome Them; Hay describes her understanding of constipation.

“If you came to me as a client with a problem of constipation, I would know you had some sort of belief in limitation and lack and therefore, were mentally frightened to let go of anything out of fear of not being able to replace it. It could also mean you were holding onto an old painful memory of the past and would not let go. You might have a fear of letting go of relationships that no longer nourish you, or a job that is unfulfilling, or some possessions that are now unusable. You might even be stingy about money. Your dis-ease would give me many clues to your mental attitude.”

Hay helps such individuals learn the principle of releasing and letting go, of learning to trust the natural flow of life that they need not cling and fear that won’t be provided for. Further, she often encourages them to begin to clean out their closets, junk drawers and spare rooms, letting go of all that isn’t serving them. Giving away useless things and making way for the new, Hay says constipation often takes care of itself.

In this spirit, I also recommend that, as part of the 10-point plan; those serious about changing their Bowel’s Story begin to lighten their load of stuff and activities. Letting go of clothes, shoes and household items you haven’t touched in several years is very freeing. Letting go of relationships or pastimes that no longer feed you or leave you feeling good about yourself is another important step. If in doubt, throw it out!

Incorporating a weekly day of fasting into your life is another powerful way to break your pattern of craving and clinging. When we fast, we become immediately aware of how much time we spend thinking about food. First, we plan to shop for it, and make sure we have the funds to purchase the food. We shop, carrying it to and from the store into the car and house. We put it away, only later to take it out and prepare it. We dispose of the recyclables and garbage. We eat the meal. We digest the meal. We wait to eliminate the meal.

On a fast day, all of that time is freed up for something else. You notice food may well consume more of your time than is necessary. If you have become someone who lives to eat, rather than eats to live, a weekly fast is a wonderful step toward ending this bondage. On Day One, have your evening meal, don’t eat at all on Day Two the following day, and break the fast with breakfast (now you now the meaning of the word) on Day Three. Beyond the mental clarity and lessons this practice allows, you will also give your digestive and eliminative systems a nice rest.

Whatever actions you are willing to take, make sure you make the mental link between emptying your life of the old and awakening your bowels to a natural pattern of regularity. When you’re stuck, you’re stuck.

Inactive and Inert
We refer to it as a bowel movement for a reason. Your body actively works hard from the moment you put food into your body to wring all the nutritional value out of it and then send it packing.

By remaining physically active, we can greatly assist in this process of digestion and elimination. Yoga Asanas that involve twisting and bending over are especially encouraging to the bowel. Make sure you are honest with yourself when assessing your activity level. I have a friend who tried countless methods of ending her constipation, with very limited success. Only when she took a walking tour of France did she find her bowels began to function as designed. She needed to get moving to have a movement.

I have known people, so desperate to get unplugged, they have worn a very tight waist or cinched a tight belt and caused great discomfort and their bowels roared. No one wants to take such painful measures to achieve something so natural.

A Well Tuned Bowel
When our bowels are working, they are busy and productive. What goes in must come out. Still, remember that the majority of waste your body excretes leaves on your exhale, in the form of a gas. Some researchers claim upward of 70 percent of the elimination our body casts off occurs through breathing. Only the solids and liquids rely on the bowel and bladder.

When I first started to study the anatomy, I had my doctor husband draw my organs with a marker on my skin. I wanted to know where parts and pieces of the system were, and where it might be blocked. Right off, I found it neat to learn that, like the chakras, my digestive and elimination systems work in a clockwise fashion. That means just by rubbing your stomach down your left side, across, up the right and across the top encourages healthy movement. I often encourage constipated individuals to sit on the toilet and rub their bellies, clockwise. The comforting warmth of the hand is frequently enough to get the party started.

Right below your ribcage is the transverse colon, bringing the food that has come up from the right side of the body across the front and heading down to the descending colon, on the left side of the body. Now you understand my earlier reference to rubbing the bottom left lower side of the left foot, as it simulates where the descending colon actually lies.

In the stomach, the food is broken down into manageable consistency and passed to the small intestine, where the majority of nutritional absorption occurs. From the small intestine, the roughage and other byproducts of little value are pushed along into the large intestine. Within the large intestine and headed to the descending colon, some final nutrients are extracted and the fats are pulled out and absorbed by the body. If you place your left hand low, tucked up against the left edge of your belly, you are near the end of your meal’s journey, where the descending colon is heading for the rectum. Basically, this lower left side is where, God willing, Elvis will leave the building.

My dear friend, the late Florence Suma Coburn, who I had the honor of serving as a guardian for the last 12 years of her life, had to learn all about her sphincter and its magical abilities after she turned 60 years of age.

Raised in mental institutions, Florence never enjoyed the luxury of tuning into her body. She was told by the facility staff, with all of the others in her ward, when it was time to pee and poop. A bank of toilets lined the wall of the bathroom, with no walls between them for privacy. Dutifully trained by outsiders, Florence would walk to the bathroom with the other patients on the ward, as ordered, and have a bowel movement. Not unlike my little dog Haskell’s performance, when he is sent outside to do his duty.

Hospital bowel training was created for the convenience of the staff. When Florence decided she wanted to leave the mental hospital, she faced many socialization challenges. One of her greatest struggles was around the absence of self-directed toileting skills. Living in her apartment after a lifetime of dormitory-style living, when Florence got frustrated, she would spread her legs and urinate, acting out the original meaning of “pissed off.”

Getting to know her bowels and their function was difficult, as she had never learned that the tiny pulsing signal emitted by her sphincter meant, “The bowel needs to be emptied.” The anal sphincter is a circular muscle the closes and opens the anus. Learning to decipher this simple yet vital message as a senior citizen was tough, but Florence persevered. She also had the unusual problem of being unable to poop when alone, radically opposite from the need for privacy most of us have. In time, Florence was proudly announcing She decided that she was headed for the bathroom to move her bowels. A real right of passage in her emancipation.