SPRING BREAK!!!

Cares of routine evaporate quickly!

Fun bubbles with enthusiastic giggles.

Places to visit. People to play with.

Supermoons that mesmerize, foods that brighten, hugs of love, kisses of warmth.

Frisky pup.

Colorspots of flowers shoot forth. Delightful!

Quiet phone.

Happy children in park stop and chat, excited for Freedom.

Long-time neighbor friend, relaxes, smiles, shares a gentle greeting.

Carefree evenings, leisurely mornings.

Uncluttered mind. Time to choose or not.

Meditation without stopwatch.

Living unfettered.

Ten Days. Spring Break!

How I love thee.

St. Patrick's Day

May your day be merry, full of the Luck o' the Irish. May laughter bubble up out of your belly, and may your belly be full of good Irish food.

And most of all, may you be ever gratefull for the good things that surround you. There is always something for which to be thankful!

Cheers!

Stir the Soup

A zen monk once said: When you stir the soup, stir the soup. When you wash your hands, wash your hands. When you listen to your friend, listen to your friend.

So often our minds wander among a variety of thoughts, most of which are about things not directly in front of us. We are stirring the soup with our hands but our minds are a million miles away, pondering the past, the future, the To-Do List.

Today I absent-mindedly kissed Tom good-bye before I headed out the door and he turned back to eating his lunch. There was some place I had to be, so I left. Then I remembered, when you stir the soup, stir the soup. I turned around on the walkway to the car and headed back to the house. I found Tom. I told him about stirring the soup.

"I kissed you, but I didn't really kiss you. I was thinking about all that I was about to do and all that I have to do later."

We kissed.

And it felt very very good. Each of our faces genuinely smiled with contentment. A moment realized.

From now on I hope to remember to stir the soup when I'm stirring the soup, to wash my hands when I'm washing my hands, to listen to my friend when I'm listening to my friend, and to kiss my husband when I'm kissing my husband.

It can only make life more peaceful, more meaningful, and much more pleasant.

Stir the soup!

Sincere Realness

Yesterday I heard a monk speaking about an experience he had when he was the chef in a monastery. He'd begun to feel his age, wondered at his usefulness. He was all of 45 at the time. While working at meal-making in the orderly, peaceful kitchen he noticed the shelf of large, metal tea kettles. They'd been in service a long time. "They were ample, round, merry, and a bit banged-up but still they supplied their purpose faithfully. Dents and all. I realized one could apply thick amounts of wax into the dents and scratches, polish the kettles up, and make them look new. But then they couldn't be used, the wax would melt and what a mess. I realized at that moment that those kettles, with their dents and scratches, were sincere. They were real. And I with my wrinkles and imperfections - really though, imperfect compared to what? - am still fulfilling my purpose, growing, learning, and offering a service to my fellow human beings. Dents and wrinkles are real, sincere, they testify that something has been around awhile. I thought, 'If those merry kettles can keep at it, well, so can I.'"

I like that. For a couple of reasons. First, I like the idea that my wrinkles, gray hair, and scars are testimonies that I've been here awhile and have done things. I've smiled, and slept, and burned my hands while cooking. I fell off my bike, and broke a glass door with my elbow. My hair is graying, my hands have arthritis. But I am still useful, can still ride my bike, can offer my take on 54 years of walking this planet.

The second thing I'm drawn to in the monk's observation is the idea of sincerity, realness. When I think of tea kettles masked in wax and polish, unusable, I think of the things we do to ourselves that mask our sincerity, and often times render our experience, wisdom, and talent hidden and useless out of fear that we won't measure up should the real be revealed. Things we do to our bodies, our homes, the formation of attitudes that are not our own but absorbed from others, the aping of behavior in order to 'fit in', the things we insecurely keep to ourselves which, if offered to the world, could make a good difference.

It seems to me that we as a society are doing an incredible disservice to ourselves in our inability to embrace what is sincere.

Today, I have a fresh perspective on my dented, scratched pots and pans. Old friends, they are, and I shall never be ashamed to pull them out of the cupboard in front of guests while I prepare a special meal. And I shall never be ashamed of my laugh lines, my sleep crevices, my crooked fingers, and my gray hair. I am still merry and useful.

And so are you!

A Gentle Washing of the Brain Can Be a Good Thing

Will skepticism hurt your brain? No, but cynicism will. Skepticism implies open-mindedness and the willingness to suspend judgment until both sides of an argument are considered, and this enhances neural functioning, particularly in the frontal lobes. A cynic, however, is a person who has taken their disbelief to a point of emotional distrust and rejection that borders on hostility toward the other point of view. This 'limbic' personality is pessimistic and is so neurologically dangerous it can even shorten your life.

Unfortunately, as far as the brain is concerned, negative speech has a stronger effect than positive speech. Negative remarks and memories are more strongly encoded in the brain, and they are the most difficult memories to eradicate. In fact, simply being around negative people will make you more prejudiced, because listening to negative opinions can easily undermine your positive opinions about virtually anything.

Being around negative people and/or listening to angry speech causes the brain to mirror the angry content, it emotionally reacts to the harsh, angry, or contemptuous faces of those around us with equal harshness, anger, or contempt. Simply reading emotionally evocative words stimulates the brain in ways that resemble the encoding of traumatic memories. The brain thinks it's really happening and retains the input as such.

Even watching violence on the news, or taking in a violent movie, will make us feel more angry, aggressive, negative, and powerless. Same thing when listening to songs with hostile lyrics even if the song is meant to be humorous. Violent video games increase aggressive behavior in children and young adults.

...our brains are designed to mimic the emotional expressions of others. Not only does this allow us to feel what others feel, but it causes what is known as 'emotional contagion,' a universal neurological process whereby subjective feelings are transferred to other people and spread through social groups. So, how fast does it take the brain to react to another person's emotion? When you see an angry expression, it takes less than one second for your brain to respond with fear.

Experience informs that this is all true. Constant bombardment of 'news' has wreaked havoc on our society. People are literally losing themselves to the anger, violence, fear, and political malice constantly pumped into our radios, televisions, periodicals, and computers. Frightening. Formerly sane people become aggressive news-zombies. They gather and emote, quoting their leaders, the talking heads and political forces who spoon-feed them, transforming thinking people into emotionally reactive drones. No matter how you look at it, exposure to, or expression of, any form of anger is hazardous, not only to the health of the individual, but to society as well.

We are not only bludgeoned with negativity from the media in all its forms. Seems negativity is everywhere we go; church, school, shopping centers, doctors' offices, banks. Is there a place that doesn't exert pressure on us to have an emotional response in order to goad us into capitulating to their 'desire for us?' Fear of hell without the comprehension of heaven. Fear of ignorance without the understanding of wisdom. Fear of losing status without the knowledge of self-respect. Fear of ill-health without information or realistic hope. Fear of poverty without the grasp of wealth's burden. We are coerced into fear, our brains react accordingly, and before we know it we are behaving unreasonably, though we are certain we are quite sane. We are feeling, not thinking. Emotions are fairweather friends, unsteady, unpredictable, undependable.

Reacting from fear is unbalanced. When we allow ourselves to be goaded thusly, we make mistakes. We must take back our minds, our whole minds. We must allow our brains to function as they were designed to function, with integration. We will still make mistakes, but at least they will be more along the lines of educated mistakes rather than strictly fear-based. If we can turn down the fearful negativity, opportunities for solutions will not only be more apparent, but more easily and quickly accessible. We can climb out of our default mode of being cattle-chute manipulated by unreasonable fear.

One of the story lines in C. S. Lewis' Narnia series which sticks with me best is the idea of the Narnian trees who forgot they were free to move around, to dance, to interact. Every now and then a Narnian would get the feeling that one of the trees was beginning to remember, to awaken. It made Lucy sad that the trees were asleep in the light and glory of Narnia.

We are asleep, too, and it makes me sad. We are allowing fear-based spells to still us, to dull and change us into who we don't want to be.

Acceptance of who we really are - human beings with strengths and weaknesses - coupled with compassion can begin the long process of awakening ourselves to factual thinking. And it must come from within, from each of us unplugging from the IV drip of doom. Anger - as a form of communication and dialogue - never works. It can injure our brains. Jesus didn't amass followers through fear but through truth, hope, and love in all its forms.

Compassion and forgiveness can heal those brain structures damaged by anger. Kindness. Attention. Sensitivity. Voices low and slow. Patience. Respect. Refraining from sarcasm, name-calling, swearing, belittling, and threats. Forgiveness. Self-awareness to be able to sense rising emotions in order to take proper precautions. Awareness of non-verbal communication in yourself and others that can serve as comfort or warning. Taking equal responsibility, working together, problem solving. Remember, a person needs to hear five compliments before he or she can listen nondefensively to a criticism.

A little mindfulness, awareness, thinking for oneself, whatever you want to call it will be a pleasant beginning. It won't change the world today. The Middle East will still be in turmoil. The U.S. will still have more debt than our brains can fathom. Gas will still be way too expensive. China will still be afraid of the Dalai Lama. Republicans will still battle Democrats. Some preachers will still try to scare the hell out of you. Health costs will still be obscene.

But. But. But in our everyday lives we will come to remember that, yes, we are free to move around, to interact. We can dance. Whenever we want to. With anyone who will join us no matter what their religious beliefs or lack thereof, no matter their political views, no matter their station in life, their age, their education, their health. We can dance. Everyday. The dance of kindness. The dance of inclusion and respect. The gift of the dance is the power of the people to take back their minds and to become a force of wisdom against an angry negativity.

We are the people.

Unplug.

Awaken.

And unite.

One family, one couple, one person at a time

(Italics are exerpts from Andrew Newberg, M.D. and Mark Robert Waldman's book, How God Changes Your Brain)

Always Room for Forgiveness

We do not really know how to forgive until we know what it is to be forgiven.  
Therefore we should be glad that we can be forgiven by others. It is our  
forgiveness of one another that makes the love of Jesus manifest in our lives,  
for in forgiving one another we act towards one another  
as He has acted towards us. ~~Thomas Merton
 
To forgive is the highest, most beautiful form of love. In return, you will receive 
untold peace and happiness. ~~Robert Muller

It is freeing to become aware that we do not have to be victims of our past  
and can learn new ways of responding. But there is a step beyond  
this recognition... It is the step of forgiveness. Forgiveness is love  
practiced among people who love poorly. It sets us free without  
wanting anything in return. ~~Henri Nouwen

You tend to feel sorrow over the circumstances instead 
of rage, you tend to feel sorry for the person rather than 
angry with him.  You tend to have nothing left to remember to say about it all.  You understand the suffering that drove 
the offense to begin with. You are not waiting for anything. 
You are not wanting anything.  There is no lariat snare around 
your ankle stretching from way back there to here.  You are 
free to go.  It may not have turned out to be a happily ever after, but most certainly there is now a fresh Once Upon 
a Time waiting for you from this day forward. ~~Pinkola-Estes

To carry a grudge is like being stung to death by one bee. ~~William H. Walton

Forgiveness is the scent that the rose leaves on 
the heel that crushes it. ~~Anonymous

A Tuesday in February

So many things coming at me all the time. All. The. Time. Keeping up is a challenge, but usually one I confidently manage. Thank God.

However, sometimes steamrolling happens. And tumbling as in the ocean's surf. Too much in my brain; clutter, seemingly impossible-to-solve problems. My limbic system is overloaded. Fear, panic, confusion, distress, anger.

This morning exhaustion reminds me that I need to rest and re-evaluate and for good reasons. Not only will I fail at constructively moving forward in my life, but my body will abruptly stop me if I don't take the time to relieve the log-jam in my mind.

So, I stop. I go back to bed after dropping precious daughter off at school in the early morning hours.

And I sleep the sleep of the just. I devour the sensation. My brain works out my problems while my body comfortably rests and restores in a sweet-smelling bed, in a sunlit room. Two hours. In the end I dream of a beautiful, white room, walled with clear, sun-streaming windows, a sparkling, wide-stretching wood floor, smooth and perfectly clean. Empty of furniture. It is an image of my mind. Stillness, loveliness, order replace confusion. Serenity. Relief.

The problems that unsettle me no longer do. Smiling a silly, happy smile I yawn, dress, chuckle. Life makes sense again. I feel like cooking a meal, like teaching algebra, like studying my current topics, like washing the towels, like being cheerful, patient, and kind.

What a difference ceasing makes, allowing my depleted body and mind to sort, organize, and rest. Catch-up.

The day is calm, quiet, productive, nourishing.

Thank God.

Secrets and Sadness

We all have secrets, of this I am most certain. Who can fully know our minds? Our hearts? Our inmost desires and dreams? Our pain?

Some happy secrets shoot out of us like sunbeams through stormclouds. More frightening secrets tend to fester deep and angry like cancer.

Some secrets heal us, some slowly kill.

The secret to secrets is to know when the secret is destructive before the damage is irreparable. To know and to act. To act and to share. To share, to become vulnerable, to cry, to share some more, to allow another to carve away a chunk of secret in order to carry that portion for you. To let go.

To simplify.

To allow time to heal what we ourselves are powerless to tend.

To trust that our Benevolent God is working carefully, knitting what looks like an utter, knotty mess into something beautiful, somewhere, for someone.

To stand and not fall. To maybe waver, but stand. To trust when all control is out of our hands, when we stand naked in the howling storm of situation, wind-whipped, drenched, mud-spattered. We stand.

We just stand.

'Infobesity'

Contemplation can be defined as paying attention. It is about a way of seeing. We live in a world today where we are deluged with information. The emails come in. The mobiles ring. A text here. A website there. Excited by the process, we can all too easily become people who are skimming over the surface of life. John Naish has described our condition as infobesity, seeing it as a different sort of fatness and producing profound stress. There is a sense that we need to slow down, to settle and pay attention to things in a new sort of way.~~Chris Sunderland, The Dream that inspired the Bible

Recently Cecily posted this quote over on her blog. My Tassie friend and I are often on the same wavelength even while we are in opposite seasons. It's kind of fun and sort of mystical how that works.

I shall let the quote speak for itself, and allow you, dear reader, to ponder it with me.

1/1/11

Happy Fresh Start!!

I love the blank slate that I realize when I awaken on January First. It's just another day, sure, but we humans are benefited by the notion of resetting our personal clocks. Feels hopeful, somehow, like we can junk all the bad stuff and start anew.

Works for me!

So far, so good.

Lasagna on the way, sunshine beaming down, happy chattering sounds of kids in the other room, and the pup is curled up in bed resting.

Good omens, all.

Let's make it a good one, eh?

Seasoned Love

My friend Tim's heartfelt thoughts concerning his 13th anniversary to his beloved wife brought tears to my eyes. Lovely.

"Oh, the comfort, the inexpressible comfort of feeling safe with a person, having neither to weigh thoughts nor measure words, but pouring them all out, just as they are, chaff and grain together, certain that a faithful hand will take and sift them, keep what is worth keeping, and with a breath of kindness blow the rest away." ~~ George Eliot

Isn't that just beautiful! This kind of love is born from experience, from the struggles of life. It is not immature love, nor fairy tale love.

It's the real deal.

November 30, 2010: Love Never Ceases

Here it is, the last day of NaBloPoMo, thirty days of blogging in November. I made it!

What can I say about the experience of pulling something out of my head or heart every day for a month? In looking back I see a marvelous reassurance, one certainly not expected. With four kids, each in a sort of transition, a husband busy and in need of a supportive wife, plus life such as it is for all of us, I find myself daily pulled in at least a dozen directions, most of which are not predictable. Most nights I lie down in bed deeply sighing with relief to have made it through and at the same time wondering how in the world I did.

Thirty posts. I ponder, noticing what? Noticing that a constant pulsing flame of me remains unharmed, unthreatened, creative, hopeful, faithful. Surprise, for I know that it is fed by something 'other'. If that flame lived and died by my own feeding and care I know it would long ago have been sacrificed to aid others, for I can use all the help I can muster, so draining is life.

Not only does this steady spirit-flame remain, but it does not ever flicker. As though completely independent of my control, its existence warms, supports, confirms. I often complain that while I take care of everyone else who takes care of me? It's a selfish complaint, and an unfounded one.

Examination of this blog-post experiment reveals reassurance that, yes, Someone constantly cares for me in unique and beautiful ways. The fire never goes out. Hope remains. Energy and creativity for another day. Stamina to walk while being bombarded with life's urgency and absurdity. Belief that all things happen for a reason. Trust that my Supply-Source is Good. Love abundant enough to care not only for those I cherish, but to maintain the soul of me.

My response? Delight and an outpouring of love for this Source, this God, this Creator of life who delicately, faithfully gives good gifts which are sometimes wrapped in scary-looking packages.

Thanks for reading! I'll be back again. Soon.

November 29, 2010: 29 Degrees

It's cold - for us - this morning.

It's also the last week of fall term classes at the Culinary Institute.

We're coming off a fun-filled holiday weekend.

Cassie: "Oh man. Talk about a crawl to the finish line."

Yep. It's that sort of morning.

We'll get there, where ever there is.

Have a great last Monday of November, 2010!

November 28, 2010: Sunday Morning and All is Well

Train noises. Mournful horns. Chug-chug-chugging. Clinking clanking. Grandfather engines and cars autographed with proud hobo etchings move carefully through our community.

I hear the trains from my bed at night and in the morning. I like the sounds. They comfort and reassure.

With roots reaching back into our American past these friendly behemoths remind that hard times and good times come and go but the human spirit endures through all.

Trains settled the American West, built and destroyed towns and cities with their presence or lack thereof. Trains have seen us through wars, economic hardships, natural disasters, presidential elections, and glory days. Songs have always been written about trains, terrific songs which seem to strike a similar, almost primal chord in everyone.

When my dad was a little boy in Oklahoma during the Depression his brothers and he used to sneak down to the train tracks to the large hobo village where friendly men, down on their luck, would tell the little boys stories and offer them tasty hobo stew. Shoplifting techniques were discussed, music played, camaraderie abounded. Pennies were laid on the tracks for heavy train wheels to flatten. Dad still smiles a far-away smile when he recounts those hobo village excursions.

In this age of technology which renders daily tools ancient in a matter of months, keeps us scrambling to stay current while paying for constant updates and 'the latest thing', where personal automobiles are more about luxury than longevity, trains steadfastly roll on moving food and supplies here and there all over the country like stalwart sentries from the past, guarding, watching, reminding of simpler times, hardier people.

Soothing to me are the sounds I hear while lying in my bed or moving about during a quiet moment in the day. "We've been through it all," they seem to say. "You'll be okay. Americans find a way through good times and bad."

Got a hankering for hobo stew, a good story, and lively music tonight.

November 27, 2010: Breathing Room

With the Thanksgiving Feast and Festivities behind, leftovers aplenty for a few days, house not a wreck, kids calm, and most of my Christmas shopping done, I find myself in a sweet spot. I can breathe.

Rather than churning chaotically, I find words settling in my mind like a downy blanket over a calmly sleeping body. Peace.

I'm not going to push it by trying to conjure up an interesting blog post today. Embracing the temporary stillness, the contentment seems the better path.

So, yeah, here's to you, readers, whatever your frame of mind. May this transition from one holiday to the next find you recovering from energy spent, hopeful for joy, love, and goodness in the weeks to come.

Orange juice, yogurt, cacao nibs, goji berries, and a partridge in a pear tree.

Cheers!

November 26, 2010: Get Your Chestnuts Out of the Fire

Jack Frost has been nipping at our noses lately so we'd thought we make some chestnuts roasting on an open fire.

Except we don't have an open fire.

An oven will do.

Yum.

November 25, 2010: Thanksgiving

Mixing it up a little bit by getting back to the beginning.

Pilgrims helping Indians. Indians helping pilgrims. Neighbors celebrating life with neighbors, the strong help the weak, the fortunate the unfortunate.

My family and I will be doing this today in lieu of our own feast and feet-up lazying about on this fine Thanksgiving Afternoon.

We'll feast tomorrow.

Let us remember that we are in this together, we need one another, we are blessed by one another, and life can always be enriched when helping hands are offered.

Whether you lend aid to your community or to the hardworking folks in your own kitchen who are preparing your holiday feast, your efforts are not wasted but are appreciated for the beautiful kindness they represent.

Happy Thanksgiving to All!

(Now, please pass the turkey, spuds, and cranberry sauce!)

November 24, 2010: Secrets and Surprises

I've posted here every day since November first, determined to keep it up until the 30th. This task is not new to me, having previously participated.

But it is so hard this time!

Difficult circumstances turned to blessedness, which could switch back to difficult at any moment, flow in and out of life these days.

Surprises await, fulfillment of dreams long-dreamed promise comfort and joy.

Good news and bad news and frightful news and silly news only a phone call away.

Up and down, laughter and tears, restorative sleeps, wrecked nights of tossing, turning anguish, too many words said, and not enough.

A blog is not the forum for sharing these particular evolving situations. In the past, yes. But not this time. Not these things.

Masking my life from you dear readers and from family squeezes and tears. You don't need to know, and they couldn't handle the things I would share. But, oh, how I want to share, feel the need to open up and pour myself onto my friendly blog pages for you, my steadfast friends, to read and thus know.

So trivia I write here, while my paper journals stack up, pages filled and puffed together, scribbled emotions and details trembling within their covers.

To learn to keep my fingers mute, as I'm learning to guard my blathery mouth, challenges.

To write and say nothing at all when I want to say everything is straight-jacket torturous.

Life overflows. I'm learning by heaps and gulps, my spirit now chastised, now held in protective embrace, confused to sobs, then enlightened to gentle, exhilerated whimpers. But self-hush, self-hush, self-hush.

I feel I am wasting your time, dear reader, and for that I am truly sorry.

Six more posts to go.

November 23, 2010: Sanitation

Chef Clive teaches sanitation to aspiring chefs.

He's British, with a thick Cockney accent.

"After using the rest room what do you do? Ya wash yer 'ands of course. And really wash them. If there are paper towels, use them to dry yer 'ands, and then to open the door. If there's only an air dryer, and, if you're here at the college where we have handicap buttons to automatically open the door, use them. But don't touch them. You use yer ass. Either cheek will do."

And he demonstrates the moves with his own bum.

The class laughs in unison with him.

Sometimes college is very very fun.

And informative.

November 22, 2010: 'Sunny and WARM'

Heard from Ben's bosses just now via e-mail. In La Paz, Mexico, they report that, while there were some challenging seas everyone is still alive. (Whew...) The weather is '85 degrees and the water 76-78 degrees! Sunny and WARM!!'

I'll let the photos Sam and Nancy sent me of Ben speak for themselves. (In case you are new to my blog, Ben, my eldest, is crewing for Sam and Nancy on their 42' sailboat along the shores of Mexico. As you can see, it's a rough life.)


I think you can agree that Mexico agrees with my son.


Nothing like snagging a big fish out of the ocean...or so I'm told.


Twelve pound tuna and one happy fisherman.


Sam and Ben in the cabin of the Windfall.


Ben snorkeling somewhere off the Mexican coast. Since I adore swimming, I really turn green with envy when I look at this photo. And then I grin with delight. What an adventure!

Thanks, Sam and Nancy, for letting me use your photos of my son!