Suspended

ever had Famous Dave's Pecan Pie?

2014-01-26T18:41:00.003-08:00

Famous Dave's stopped serving it for some reason, but it's the best I've ever had. Recently, I found the recipe!:

1/3 cup melted butter
2/3 cup sugar
1 cup dark corn syrup
3 eggs
1 tsp vanilla extract
1/2 tsp kosher salt
1/2 cup chopped pecans
1 cup whole pecans

directions:

blend melted butter, sugar, dark corn syrup, eggs, vanilla, kosher salt
add whole pecans and chopped pecans
pour mixture into unbaked pie shell
put on cookie sheet
preheat oven to 350° and cook 20-25 minutes, rotate and back another 20-25 minutes
cool and let pie set

necessity

2013-12-11T10:38:00.001-08:00

The furnace went out this morning around 4:00 a.m.. It happened last week, too (the morning it got to -14). My guy had to leave early this morning so when staying curled up in bed didn't feel like a viable option any longer, I needed a plan. Built a fire with the little bit of wood we had left, made an oven breakfast, closed all of the doors off the main room to contain the heat and started laundry so I'd have the warmth of the dryer. It worked!

Here's the thing, I actually liked it...the necessity of finding a way around or through the chill (outside of bailing to the nearest coffee shop) so I could reasonably function without pressing distraction (yes, I find uncomfortable cold distracting). It had me thinking that I don't really want life to be too comfortable. I want challenges. I want things to be a little risky. More importantly, I want the urgency of necessity to have presence in my days.

The furnace came back on again around 10:30. We'll still probably have an HVAC company out since something is obviously on the fritz. Meanwhile, I think we need to get more wood.

safe

2013-12-10T15:42:00.001-08:00

It's hard to write when I don't feel safe, when I think my words here will be judged or misunderstood. Why would I be judged?

Because I'm in a very unconventional relationship.
Because I can't/won't any longer call myself a "christian", nevermind what my beliefs are.
Because I am open to others' ways of living and believing until it limits someone else's opportunity to live and believe in ways that are true to them.
Because I've known enough of hurt to diminish my capacity to deal with more pain, which can cause me to withdraw quickly and/or to close off from painful/hurtful situations and relationships. I think that kind of withdrawal is difficult for others to understand. (Few things being more hurtful than rejection or being merely tolerated.)
Because there are parts of my life that I can't and/or won't make open for the sake of respecting others' desires for privacy and/or anonymity.

I want to feel safe to write. I don't want to incessantly censor myself. I find that I hold back the deep joys as well as the deep struggles when I feel unsafe. In place of the personal and connected, I put out reserved and very generalized thoughts with, what from my end feels like, a hollow tone.

For months I've been trying to figure out how to move past this, thinking about why I've stayed cramped in this posture as long as I have and why/how I don't want to remain here. One question I'm still asking: Is it a matter of trusting my audience or trusting myself?

journaling

2013-11-30T13:14:00.002-08:00

...is something I've been doing with relative consistency since I was eleven years old. It's not something I do every day. I journal when I know I want to remember an event (time has shown I forget things I dearly want to remember). I journal when my thoughts are scrambled and writing them out funnels into some kind of order, even sometime revelation. I journal when I need to unload emotions (those entries are rarely pleasant to re-read).

One of my brothers once asked, "Do you expect us to read those when you die?!" I have thirty-odd journals at this point so his alarm is not unwarranted. The answer to his question is "no"; I journal for myself.

Up into my twenties I would often write thinking of others reactions if they were to read my entries. Those pages are censored and stunted. Learning to accept myself, flaws and all, has given way to more honest writing, which in turn has also been more fruitful.

The other practice I learned along the way, was to be more narrative in my writing. Particularly as a teen, I would pound out paragraphs about how something was making me feel without ever being explicit about what had actually happened. Rereading those entries is beyond frustrating.

I also had to stop worrying about writing everything. Sometimes a month goes by without an entry. Filling in everything missed in the month is daunting. Because gaps in time-lines often bother me when I return to journals later, I may try to bullet major events, but then let myself write from where I am that day. On the flip side, I don't force myself to stick to what is current for the date I write. I may recount an event from several weeks back, leaving the present day a mystery.

As I said, journaling isn't for others, it's for me. What does the writing do for me? -Clarifies thoughts, gives witness to changes and growth in me and my life, and often serves as therapy. One day, others may have cause to read my personal pages, but I'm not going to worry against that day.

P.S. I did lose a journal once. I'm still not sure how I feel about that, except I think I'm glad it doesn't have my name in it and my identity remains a mystery to whomever recovered it.

speaks for itself

2013-10-26T20:00:00.000-07:00

...and so relatable: Shane Koyczan: To this day...for the bullied and beautiful

day's worth of musings

2013-10-05T20:12:00.000-07:00

I was helping my mom stack firewood today and being refreshed by the absolute practical necessity of the task. Circumstances this week make me think that we...that I need that pull on my life, the pull of the necessary and imperative. I've been mentally categorizing the necessary and the vacuous unnecessary in my life, since.
I watched a video clip this afternoon of a man who drives around singing infectious songs and inviting passengers in nearby cars to sing along. I found his audacity joyful and appreciated his comfort with himself. I have memory of having a capacity for this kind of being game to possibilities. *longing
Over the past weeks, some of the characteristics I value most have been spotlighted through various serendipities, bringing me to a place nearer to center.
I am here at the FH for a few days to rest and try to regain health, having depleted myself in multiple ways in recent weeks working at a bakery. Starting the day at three a.m. does not agree with my constitution in any way, apparently. I am experiencing the comfort of hot food, a live fire, a good mattress and unchallenged belonging. (And no, I am not working at the bakery any longer.)
Here's news: I finally know what I want to do with my life career-wise. -Now to make that a reality. I want to do massage therapy (classes start again this coming week and I can work for tips meanwhile) and I want to do creative editing for authors (I have some experience and it is a pleasure while still being challenging).

two games

2013-08-11T08:13:00.001-07:00

"There are at least two kinds of games. One could be called finite, the other infinte.

A finite game is played for the purpose of winning, an infinite game is played for the purpose of continuing the play.

Finite players play within boundaries; infinite players play with boundaries.

Surprise causes finite play to end; it is the reason for infinite play to continue.

To be prepared against surprise is to be trained. To be prepared for surprise is to be educated.

The finite play for life is serious; the infinite play of life is joyous.

The joyfulness of infinite play, its laughter, lies in learning to start something we cannot finish.

No one can play a game alone. One cannot be human by oneself.

Our social existence has...an inescapably fluid character.

...we are not the stones over which the stream of the world flows; we are the stream itself.

Change itself is the very basis of our continuity as persons.

Only that which can change can continue: this is the principle by which infinite players live."

by James P. Carse, Finite and Infinite Games

This is another offering in Robert Fulghum's, Words I Wish I Wrote. I've been noticing the difference between finite and infinite players w/out having these words to round out what I was seeing and how I understood it. I know its analogy might not work for everyone, but it resonates with me...and clarifies my own direction.

there is no notice

2013-08-03T20:13:00.002-07:00

...for most of life's tests.

If five out of the ten times I'm annoyed I lose my cool, I'm probably something of a bitch. If it's one out of twenty, maybe I'm a decent/kind person who's just having a really hard day. The thing is that every time I respond to the easy/enjoyable and/or the difficult/trying I'm defining or affirming what/who I am.

No one taps me on the shoulder and tells me,

"In this moment you are choosing a path towards integrity or wearing a mask,"

or

"This is the moment where your patience or rash haste will affect how this woman treats her son tonight,"

or

"Whether or not you relax and enjoy yourself now will determine the tone of your entire week."

...but this is precisely why now is always important. The choices are always made one way or another...for courage or cowardice, for grace or criticism, for temperamental or steady demeanor, for gentleness or abrasiveness, for thankfulness or careless disregard. I know my own power to choose. -One doesn't take more strength than the other...only sometimes more courage and that also builds into who I am.

can't fall asleep

2013-07-06T09:23:00.002-07:00

...fireworks...dogs alarm bark...mind spins...nerves tight...so tired...awake...and awake...and awake...

...need a lullaby...need a cradle of relief...mind spins...awake..try to to take care of me...got to take care of me...don't want to be all I've got to take care off...spin...awake...

breathe, breathe, breathe, breathe...10,000 emotions answer...BREATHE!!!...

...eyes close

...still awake

conviction + will

2013-07-01T21:24:00.000-07:00

If I'm convinced of something, acting according to it doesn't seem to require a lot of deliberation; my will doesn't seem to have any trouble falling into line (because if it is true in my eyes, I react to it the way I do gravity...without thought or challenge). So what am I believing?

What- beneath all of the layers of expectation, daily demands, personal history and cultural assumptions- am I convinced of?

***********************

Here's a litmus question a friend shared a few years ago:

If a person observed you in silent film, day in and day out what would they conclude you believe?

I would follow by asking, "Are the things you are believing actually true?"

adventure

2013-05-09T13:24:00.001-07:00

I've been considering the ingredients of adventure. I doubt what qualifies as an experience of adventure for me necessarily qualifies as adventure for the person at the table next to mine. Another person's idea of adventure might qualify as trauma for me! Some of my adventures have been brief (saying something challenging to a stranger, cliff-jumping); and some have lasted years (I can think of several relationships that have been adventures). Whatever events have created adventure for you I'd be willing to bet

you were on the edges of discomfort some or most of the time
your heart sped up at least once
you were more aware of yourself, what you were experiencing and who you were in that moment
you questioned your sanity
courage was required
you felt more alive during and immediately after
you knew more about yourself and what you were/weren't made of afterward than you knew before
whether or not it went well, you were changed...you became more set in fear or stubbornness, you became bolder, you overcame a fear, you were more open, you were more closed off...whatever the case, you were changed

One particular jerk-rogue who happened across the path of my life treated other people with disdain if they weren't actively living in a state of adventure; and he had very certain ideas of what qualified and what did not. For some of us stepping into a room of strangers is adventure enough to make our heart beat double-time. For others of us sitting in solitary silence is nerve-wracking. I'm not convinced adventure in and of itself is a worthy aim; however, more full, less fearful, more understanding ways of being might only be found by tasting adventure and those ways seem worth pursuing by whatever means. I want to be willing to try dishes with the ingredients of adventure to those ends... to make those dishes, even to hunt those dishes down.

Here's to the distinct flavors of adventure in each of our lives.

current favorites

2013-05-06T18:50:00.003-07:00

Men's white v-necked tee-shirts...I rediscovered them recently when one happened my way quite by accident. I used to wear them in high school, but had set them aside at some point, probably thinking that I needed to branch out. Soft. Simple. Comfortable. Inexpensive. Clean and fresh the way only white clothes are.
Soup from the Cheese Store (Holly and 3rd); their Eggplant Lentil has been my favorite to date.
Angry Orchard Hard Apple Ginger Cider
The flank steak plate at Mod Market
Tall double breve lattes
Vibram toe shoes! -Esp for doing massage work.
Jillian Michaels' 40 minute shred work-outs
Coming home to a clean apartment. (Sometimes I don't care, but right now I really, really care.)
Movies in theater.
Doctor #10, David Tennant. I still haven't gotten used to Matt Smith. :-/
Single roll sushi dinners.
Daydreaming (There are times I'll have forgotten how).
Julian's frozen waffles: buttery, crunchy edges, soft inside goodness that's just the perfect amount of sweet.

not epiphanies

2013-04-15T20:37:00.000-07:00

Moments of epiphany are not the moments of my learning. They may give me a glimpse of what I want to learn or clear thoughts on something I am already learning, but the actual learning is usually a very slow process. I have to experience a moment of recognition at the time of choice in which I see that the choice is taking me a direction in keeping with some earlier understanding. -And this recognition paired with choice has to occur again and again until the thoughts that regularly stretch into choice are re-pathed. If I lose sight of an understanding or if life strain has my focus so narrow that I scarcely give a seemingly unimportant choice a second thought a lesson may stretch over a decade or more. It's humbling, but human and I think I am not alone.

Remembering this helps me not to disregard a present choice, not to think that "letting this one slide won't matter". Every instant I am building the woman I am.

It also helps me to have grace for myself, to see that it is not reasonable to think I will change in a day and to commit to the process of growth.

I still like epiphanies. They often serve as the stars which reorient my direction; however, on their own, they do not work out the changes and lessons I want to see myself learn.

seeing

2013-04-06T13:36:00.001-07:00

Blessed are they
who see beautiful things
in humble places
where
other people see nothing.

-Camille Pissarro

"What a difference perspective makes," I thought when I read this and remembered an evening in South Korea. I had been there about three weeks and was despairing in how ugly Seoul seemed. "Don't these people have any sensitivity to their surroundings?!" I had been mentally criticizing. Standard street smells weren't improving my impressions. I'd reacted by praying that I'd be attuned to even small beauties and this evening I started to see them. -The heron standing in shallow muddy waters, the fall of light against the buildings, a bush of flowers growing on the most purely concrete of streets, the colors in fruit laid out in plastic diner-style fry-baskets on the sidewalk. Beauty bleeds into the most contrary of circumstances. If it has a soul, I think it must know it's needed. I can tell you that there have been many times when, alone and in grief, beauty or even the memory of beauty has held me in comfort. There have also been times when beauty has taken a treasured moment and made it poignant to the point of overwhelming.

A few that stay with me:
A sun draped field of buttercups framed by a plank gate below and the arched branches of a huge leafy tree overhead; a rose on the bush in the rain on my walk to work in Ansan-si; a Colorado-blue fall sky through the branches of the oak tree I sat beneath; a photo of Billie Holliday singing as though her heart were in her throat; sunlight on water; the Big Dipper swinging in dozens of different skies; wind, air and sunlight above tree line on Rockies Byway; the colors of a certain sunset at a local park; pelicans on the wing....

understanding gravity

2013-03-31T16:31:00.000-07:00

Please watch this first:

http://www.wimp.com/bestcoin/

I came across this video several mornings ago, not long after I'd woken up, still in my pajamas, sitting in bed with the computer on my lap. I didn't know know what to expect when I opened it, but trusted the source (the friend who posted in on Facebook). As I watched, my emotions ran from curiosity, to wonder, then delight. Soon my reaction became much more mixed. It hadn't taken me long to recognize the work as Beethoven's pantheon of praise. Watching the various musicians join in I was aware of how many stories must be represented there...sane, mentally ill, gay, straight, single, divorced, married, widowed, religious, atheist, skinny, fat, grieving, happy, rich, poor and thousands of other personal or life characteristics. I heard and felt the swell of music, tears on my cheeks, awash in the beauty and thanksgiving of it, experiencing a kind of relief in the praise. -And then I was also angry, aware that there are those in the world who would express that some of these musicians should not take part, should see their contribution as less than worthy, that the sentiment behind their music is somehow less sincere or lacking understanding or worst of all that their music is somehow mute to God if they haven't committed themselves to a certain creed, lifestyle or religion. I was aware that there are those who would say I am not able to fully participate in praise or know God because of some of my life choices.

I believe that truth is as inexorable as gravity: clear parameters, simple, unavoidable and once recognized/understood, it isn't possible to ignore it in daily choices or pretend it didn't exist...and usually we sense it whether or not we understand it. Watching this video led to one of those "understanding gravity" moments...of understanding that God is accessible to us all, no matter our walk; and no one of us has the authority to deem someone else unfit to reach or be reached by God. If I had run across these thoughts before, I hadn't been able to own them as I was owning them now. After the clip had run its five minutes and forty seconds I felt unburdened by judgement, determined not to let anyone keep me from God, my heart free to be full of the thanksgiving and praise with which it had first reacted.

Relief.

You are also free.

create

2013-03-23T16:09:00.001-07:00

I'm looking out on a snowy day, feeling a bit sluggish in my veins and trying to recall how I've fed creativity in the past. This I can tell you; plugging into one more episode of Downton Abby is not a way to feed creativity. Happily, I can say that I've found a way to unplug from Downton Abby whether or not those episodes keep rolling. -But now I'm writing distracted and want to return.

I do know that seeing beauty has fed my creativity. So has reading good and thoughtful books. Going into an art or craft store does not, for me, but sometimes watching someone else be creative does. There are a few movies that leave me feeling as if I had something more to give. Spending time out of doors is a source as are certain kinds of conversation. Pinterest does not (no eyebrows, please, it just doesn't, or I'm looking at all the wrong boards). Art rarely does. Quiet steady days do so more than busy days.....

This afternoon, I was kind of hoping for something sure-fire to feed the need to be rekindled. Quiet, hot drinks, yoga, a warm house, watching the snow, meditation, sitting here to write with little censure... these have lent themselves. I suspect creativity is a process, not a project.

For this moment, I'll retreat back into the quiet of my day and simply pay close attention, expectant and interested. I think life will lend itself if I'm willing.

i have an answer...and a question...

2013-02-24T10:02:00.002-08:00

The Morning Paper

Read one newspaper daily (the morning edition
is the best
for by evening you know that you at least
have lived through another day)
and let the disasters, the unbelievable
yet approved decisions,
soak in.

I don't need to name the countries,
ours among them.

What keeps us from falling down, our faces
to the ground; ashamed, ashamed?

-Mary Oliver

We are each convinced, "It wasn't my choice."

So now I ask (you and myself), "Are you sure? -With your morning coffee from South America, your quick errand taking you five blocks away via gasoline fueled car, your vote, your clothes made by children, what you didn't bother recycling, how you treated the tired cashier. Are you sure?"

I've ceased to be convinced it is/was not my choice, though the responsibility scares me.

start

2013-02-23T15:29:00.002-08:00

New ways of living, new boundaries, new ways of thinking about old things...these are all reasons for a new blog...among others.

I write from a Saturday, which, incidentally has become my favorite day of the week. I let myself sleep as late as my body wants to, I avoid making a schedule or any major plans for the day unless those plans translate into enjoyable pastime with friends, and I tune in to myself. Saturday is, for me, a day to be, one intention and one moment at a time. This blog is one of the day's intentions.

I think this simple start will do.