I am officially one of those neti pot nut jobs
* by Jessica Ashley, Shine staff, on Thu Oct 30, 2008 10:54am PDT
I woke up this morning to the bright sunshine and whir of the heater running. I pulled myself out of bed, yawned, stretched and sniffled.
It's prime cold season here and I know that by the runny nose and slips of paper begging families to wash hands frequently that my son brings home from preschool. I'm trying to combat six months of congestion and a Costco investment in lotion-laced Kleenex with a vitamin C commitment, drinking more water, getting more sleep and holding my breath as I walk though the adorable germ infestation that is my son's classroom. But this morning, I didn't need any of that. I was barely awake, I was sniffly and I was jonesing for my neti pot.
Yeah, I said jonesing.
I cleaned the bathroom a couple weeks ago and slipped my neti pot -- the lovely little porcelain wonder aptly described as "a cross between Aladdin’s lamp and your grandmother’s gravy boat" and a "nose bidet" that normally sits next to my moisturizer and hand soap on the counter -- into a drawer. I was having company and didn't need them or a babysitter to know I practice nasal irrigation so often I need to have the neti pot out as prominently as my toothpaste.
In the days that my neti pot lived in the drawer, I only used it a couple of times, far less often than has become the unexpected ritual over the past nine months. When I loaded it up with warm water and salt this morning, I wasn't exactly shaking, but I was definitely excited to let my old friend meet my neglected nasal passages.
If you're not down with neti pots or clearing the sinus cavity with a pot full of saline, no worries. I get it. It seems nasty. You should know, though, that if you ever complain of allergies or a cold or headaches or a blister on your baby toe, I will launch into my sales pitch on how the neti pot will help you if you can just get over letting gravity clear out all the grossness from behind your face.
Why would I not only embrace my nasal irrigation after only a few weeks off but also willingly serve as a Neti Pot Disciple? Because it works. From the day my friend told me that neti potting not only left her devoid of any trace of her horrible seasonal allergies but also left her feeling kind of high from all that oxygen now making its way into her brain, I was hooked. I bought the pot and closed my eyes to the strange and compelling horror that comes from watching water stream from one nostril and went for it.
With that first breath, a deeper and seemingly "cleaner" inhale than I'd had since being at the top of a mountain in Maui, I was convinced. And then my own summer allergies never appeared. Colds seemed shorter and I found sweet relief during a period of chronic migraines. All from the neti pot.
It's not a miracle. It's just ancient science at work on your sinuses. I believe, though, that it has worked wonders on me. Like lathering on a mud mask or sinking into the massage chair for a pedicure, I get a little thrill out of shoving a spout in my nose. Those people I laughed at in my head while I politely listened to their alternative methods of self-care? Yeah, I'm one of them now.
A little shaky, a little stuffed up and so ready for one more hit off the salty good stuff.
What about you? Have you been converted to the neti pot way?
P.S. Want to see a couple of crazy YouTube demos on neti pot usage? Start with this one that I swear is really a robot lady trying to abduct the masses through homeopathy (do her eyes ever move?). Then move on to this regular guy giving the neti a go. If you prefer to see a beautiful woman blowing water and God-only-knows-what out of her nose in your neti pot instructional videos, watch this one.
From: Yahoo Blogs
Personally I like to use Wai Lana's Neti pot, which makes doing neti very easy.
Neti is something which all yogis practice for clarity of the brain and for basic cleanliness, so it's definitely a good thing. It helps keep off sickness as well.
It's just like.. brushing your teeth.. cleaning your ears..
that kinda thing.
