Whole Pup: Body . Mind . Soul

Gleefully Ready to Get Started on This Path!

2012-07-29T20:09:00.000-07:00

You know when you get super-
excited about something and you
want to do it All Now?
Yeah.

This week has been fabulous and important! I got the ball rolling on my dream, and I have work to do - work that I'm excited to start!

Author's Note: I probably sound crazy-pretentious in this post. I don't mean to be all braggadocious -- it's just that, for once, I'm starting on a path that really fits my wants, likes, skills, traits, etc.; that respects my innermost personal dreams; that doesn't have any holes or leave me feeling weird somewhere inside. It just fits. It makes me Excited and Happy. Also, I like exclamation points. In this post, I use them to express Happy. ;)

Starting the Journey

This past week, I expressed my desire to become a Unity Minister to the current spiritual leader of my church.

I thought she'd be surprised. She wasn't! She was so happy! She told me that she wasn't surprised because I have a presence that is well suited for getting up in front of people. Yay, I'm so glad to know that people can pick up on that, even if they've never seen me speak formally.

I also expressed my great desire to her to do more to help the church. We're going through a big transition right now - we're between dedicated Pastors. Our current leader, also a foundational member of our church, is a Licensed Unity Teacher (i.e. just a hop and a jump from ordination, but she chose a different path). She is shouldering much of the work of preparing services, and giving the weekly message. She shares the weekly message with a few other people, but even when they are speaking, she is assisting the service. She is not a full-time Minister but has accepted the roll of one, as a volunteer, with grace and strength and buckets and buckets full of love. I have great admiration for her and her gifts to our community!

I've been wanting to get up in front of the congregation for so long. Don't get me wrong! I already do - heck, I sang today. I helped lead the congregational songs and sang 3 special pieces with a good friend. It's about once a month on average that I'm the lead vocalist. And I love it! It's great. But it's not what I really want to do -- not my first choice.

A Burst of Overzealous Glee!

I want to speak to the people! Give me the mic already, I'm ready! When do I start!?

...It took me a long time to admit to myself that what I really want to do is talk to the people - to be one of the people leading the service, sharing the word, spreading the Love, sending hope and inspiring to action.

So this coming month, finally, I will have the opportunity to begin this journey actively as a worship assistant. I'll be up front, helping to lead everyone in prayer, reading from the Daily Word, praying before the Offering. It's a big change to move from the space of "special musician" to "worship assistant", but I'm so ready.

More than that: One Sunday coming up, I will give the Sunday message. Me! Me, finally! I've wanted to do this for sooo long! I'm so looking forward to being a service in this way. To sharing a different side of myself with my community, to sharing words that I hope will bring at least one person closer to Spirit on their journey, to helping our current leader be able to take a Breath by adding another week to her calendar where she doesn't have to prepare the message. She is an excellent speaker, but it's hard work, and it's not her dayjob. I'm excited be to able to help her, as well as our other occasional speakers who will now find one more among their ranks in the rotation.

Hopefully. If I make it into a regular rotation. I haven't delivered my first message yet!

Preparation: Starting Now

I am going to take this wave of excitement and ride it as long as I can. Which means: Beginning preparations, now. And I don't even know when I'll be speaking yet.

It's been a long time since I delivered a formal speech longer than 3 or 4 minutes. A decade at least! Nearly a decade if you count my thesis defense, which, er, really doesn't count. It was around a boardroom table. Not like audiences of several hundred I delivered presentations to professionally a couple years before that.

I remember all my basics. But I'm obviously rusty: I can't assume that I can pull this together in a day or two, as was once my custom. Plus, I have 15-20 minutes of time to fill in a way that keeps people interested. I can totally do that, but I need material to drawn on, and that takes research. But before I can do that, I need a topic.

To find a topic, I need to be Open. Open to the patterns and themes convergent around me right now, open to noticing, to witnessing, to feeling what grips me. Allow it to coalesce, and seek further examples as they occur in my everyday life. Watch how what I've observed makes its appearance in my life and in the lives of the people around me.

And I get to read. God, I miss reading! I gave up reading when I became a mother. Now I can start reading again. After all, I have a lot of texts to learn if I'm going to complete my studies. And it's going to take a long time -- several years, perhaps longer given my busy schedule. Might as well start Right Now.

=)

More on Who-I-Am: Running Themes Part I

2012-07-26T21:09:00.002-07:00

Come to thing of it, I've always been
sowing The Seeds of Love,
just like Tears for Fears. Tortured,
Light-seeking seeds of Love.

*Lightbulb!* Whoa, new idea! Contemplating.... hmm.... yes. Yes. I can see it now. Dude!!!

This is the first of at least two more blog posts reviewing some lifelong running themes -- ones that make the prospect of joining the Ministry make a lot of sense, in retrospect. (I always was a wordy writer! ;)

Academia: Always the Same Theme

...The meshing of Spiritual Philosophy and Pop Culture is indeed one of the reasons I went to grad school.

Oh, to be a multi-disciplinarian! My graduate program was the height of getting an MA without having to specialize in any one thing. I was still looking for a way to make money as a philosopher. But analyzing the spiritual in everyday media (from movies to marketing) is such a part of my person, I didn't even think to separate it out at the time. I didn't even think until recently to separate it out! It was just a hobby -- no, less than that -- just this thing I do. Stuff I notice, and enjoy noticing. You can't make a livelihood out of that.

So I dabbled in a number of enjoyable pursuits and put together an assemblage of coursework that would have served me very well had the tech bubble not burst when it did. Alas, that ship has sailed, and I would have had a lot more job opportunity than I did when I graduated. But I wouldn't have been satisfied. Let's look back, shall we?

...Write an overlong paper on Moby Dick as a metaphor for spiritual transcendence -- not because I read about it anywhere else, but because that's what I saw when I read it, and carefully analyzed the entire text? Get an A+ from a professor known for never giving an A?* Can't make money doing that.

...Write a paper in grad school comparing Super Mario Bros. II to utopia? Slipped in some really trippy spiritually-related bs? Still amazed I got away with it, and got an A? Can't make money doing that!

...September, 1995: Spend an all-nighter teaching myself HTML, putting up a website on Geocities, and within days, waxing philosophical on the "Quest for Self" in a metaphysical sense. Oh, if only I could find that old site on Retrocities, I'd love to know what those essays said. At the time, I was actively wondering if I could make money doing that, but I didn't articulate it to myself well enough to be able to follow it through with any success.

I wrote a lot of spiritually-themed papers through-out high school, college and grad school. They were not religious, although the texts may have been religious. In college it was my specialty, and I'm sure I even worked it into my music major. I was always very concerned with neutrality, and would never write my papers from any opinion other than "This spiritually based or related topic can be seen here in this work consistently if you view it through a certain intellectualized perspective." I was trying to expose Light to the world even then, without being caught doing it.

Musical Tastes: Always the Same Theme...

I loved musicians who could also sneak it in without getting caught - except by people like me!

My musical tastes are varied. Everyone's musical tastes are diverse and complex! There was, however, one "genre" of pop music that absolutely drew me in, deeply, that calmed me, soothed me, spoke to my soul. I call it a "genre" but "pop" is about all the artists had in common, other than the decade. I would rack my brain to answer Why those particular artists, What did they have in common, What could my idol-worship on their music reveal to me, about me?

Well, one commonality was obvious. The songwriter/performers all wrote openly about their own personal inner struggles with religion, agnosticism, and spiritual awakening. More importantly, they wrote about themselves, in a very personal light, and that is to say their recognition that they are worthy because they are Light. These were NOT Christian artists. Oh no! Christian pop was an anathema to me. So fake, I couldn't stand it. (Well, except maybe for Flood by Jars of Clay.) But, if the artist was coming not from a place of Religion, but from a place of pure inner discovery -- I was in awe! The songs often spoke about depression and disillusionment, but they also spoke to an inherent knowledge of the divine within, all of which I shared with these artists.

I also was still hiding my memories of personal trauma from myself. I write about that here and here. Today, I also understand why I was inexplicably drawn toward artists who were likewise self-tormenting, and searching for the Light they knew to be inside.

Friends and Family: "Duh! Do it already!"

My close friends and family are all probably reading this and saying to themselves, "Well, like, Duh!"

For them, none of this is new. They have lived it with me.

Many of my friends - and all of my really close ones - can speak intelligently on spiritual topics and society and pop culture. Because we talked about the intersection of those things. A lot.

Often, we knew we were talking about something inherently spiritual, but we had to make up a vocabulary for it. We discussed what we new of God, of Nature, of our own auras and energy fields. We played ESP games (before adulthood clouded our inner vision) and discussed God and Man and Captain Picard's relationship with Q. We loved television and movies and we talked at great length about the journey of the soul and infinity and oneness and eternity as they were expressed in everything from Star Wars to the Matrix Trilogy to the X-Files.

Come to think of it, I think many of us were drawn to sci-fi and fantasy because of that genre's ability to explore such matters ("magic! the great unknown!") without having to pick a team, as it were. Neutral territory, ripe with explorations of the Human Soul.

I still watch everything through this lens. The whole world passes through it. Does everyone's? I don't know. You tell me. It's just in my nature. (Please tell me!)

Coming in Part II: The Library That (Almost) Was, Several Brushes with Professional Religioning, and This Is Not My First Time Considering Seminary, Nor My Second or Third Even: The Calling.

(That was more a reminder to myself than a teaser for you LOL!)

*Remembered this morning that I did not get an A+ on that paper. The A+ was for my Wordsworth Journal (i.e. subjective stream-of-consciousness dribble that proves you read the assignment), for which he asked for 5 pages and I presented 11. Dudes, it was all about transcendent spirituality too, of course it was, it was Wordsworth! I got just an A on the Moby Dick paper. As you can tell, I'm still very proud of that grade!

A Few Minutes to Contemplate Who-I-Am

2012-07-24T19:21:00.001-07:00

A pic that's been reposted
so many times on Facebook,
I can't offer attribution.

Good morning from your friendly neighborhood Panera Bread! I rarely have the opportunity to go out to breakfast by myself, and I even less frequently come to Panera when I do, so I'm really enjoying my time here this morning. The sun is bright, the world is beautiful, and traffic is alright too.

I want to write a little bit about an aspect of deciding to join the Unity ministry that really, has pretty profound meaning for me.

I don't feel like I have to be anybody other than who I already am to be a minister with Unity.

I have given great consideration to being a minister several times in my life. I thought long and hard, did research, etc. etc. but inevitably, I had to say "No." While other small reasons would crop up, the primary reason would be that it didn't feel right, because I wouldn't feel right. Because I do not want to change my outward appearance -- other people's experience of me -- for anyone or anything except me.

I refuse to have to act a certain way in public or dress a slightly different way, to put on a mini-act just so I can be seen as being an authority in my chosen field. I have witnessed so many Ministers doing this. They make it so it's a surprise to learn that they like things like Star Wars, because they put up this front of academia and starched shirts and intellectual pursuits.

I'm really smart, and I'm a heck of an analyst. I love to read! But I am so much more than that. And I don't care if you know it - in fact, I want you to know. I want you to know that I'm as fun-loving and fallible as anyone, and that I do not believe that having a Strong Inner-Life precludes all the fun of being a human! I want you to know that I'm every bit as crazy as you think you are, and I Love You anyway, and the Whole World Loves You Anyway. So... why should I hide my wacky Doctor Who Facebook profile picture, or start wearing pantsuits? That is not who I am, and if Spirit demands anything of us, it's to be True To Ourselves. That is the richest way we can Love ourselves, and from that, each other.

So yeah. I can imagine a future version of myself with light silvery blue hair (if I want it), and cute jeans, and Star Trek on the Netflix queue. I see myself still listening to DC101 (it's cathartic, just is) and reading some Lovecraft (I'll get around to it eventually hee!) and doing everything I want to do -- while being an ordained Unity minister. Because I'll also be spending a good chunk of time, set aside daily, on my personal Spiritual Path. I'll be following my Inner Guide, and making a concerted effort to recognize the Inner Light in You, all of you, as much of the time as I possibly can given my humanity. If that means that I eventually stop wanting to dye my hair blue, then that will be the right thing to do at that time. But I'm not gonna be drab and boring because "Religion" says I should. Heck no, far from it!

I've actually realized, that by choosing this path, I finally have permission from myself to die my hair blue (almost. ALMOST.) I don't have to keep myself neutral and ready-to-mold into whatever other "good" opportunity comes along. I've been living life waiting for the next thing to come along, for a job or career that would suit my unique set of skills, talents, and dreams, and I've been so dissatisfied with what's been before me. But I was always wanting to try one particular career path, and terrified that if I did, I'd (ironically!) lose my soul to religious expectations. I don't want to be a "career woman", and I don't want to be anything less than successful at a career. I am hellbent on being myself while I do it!

Everything I know of Unity tells me that they will not care if I dye my hair Blue. As a good friend told me, "It will raise some eyebrows." Raised eyebrows is OK as long as there's no passive-aggressive b.s. accompanying them! Yet I'm not ready to let go of being so neutral, so quick-to-adapt should an opportunity rise. I'm waiting a few more days, doing a little more research, letting my decision continue to sink in to see if my Inner Guide, my intuition, sends me any warning signals. I am getting ready though. I'm scoping out salons, picking out less-sensible shoes, turning up the radio....

Note: This post was written the morning of July 24, but I had to rush off to an appointment before posting it. =)

Small Steps Lead to Big Decisions, Big Transitions: Considering the Ministry

2012-07-18T14:05:00.002-07:00

I want to let the world know: I am seriously considering becoming a Unity minister.

In my imagination, that statement leaves people wondering "Huh?" and "Where did that come from?" because the way I've been leading my life for the past several years seems so out of alignment with that goal. Those of you who've witnessed certain aspects of my character might not be surprised. However, people who've only known me for the last few years might find it rather out-of-the-blue, because I've not been expressing all the various sides of myself for some time now.

Over the last several months, I've been doing some exercises and meditations to help me clear up my issues around who-I-am and what-I-want-to-be. I'll talk more about why I need to do that in another post. In this work, I have been exploring and recognizing the characteristics, traits, experiences, talents, and desires that make me a unique individual -- the very unique individual that I am meant to be, that I am meant to embody in this Universe and in this form. It is a liberating process. Despite years of self-study, I've never approached the question of "Who am I?" quite as I am now. My very first webpage was about self-discovery -- about what's at the very core of us -- and 18 years later, I'm still a novice on the journey!

That webpage was a significant example of what-it-is-to-be-me. It still is. It shows that I have always been, and will always be, a transcendental/spiritual philosopher. When I was a child, I wanted to be a Philosopher when I grew up. I wanted to think about life and meaning and purpose and our souls and I wanted to do it for a living! But I couldn't think of a way to make money at it. Plus, I was, and am, bored to death by traditional, heady, stuffy, over-intellectualized philosophy. It ignored so much information I could feel flowing in from my Spirit, and as I know now, from my very Body itself.

Other supporting traits for the idea of being a minister have surfaced of late. I was always a great listener and amateur counselor to my friends. I love public speaking (I expect that would surprise some people I know! I won an award in college for public speaking. First place.) I love to share about myself with others, not so much because I want you to validate my opinion -- but because I always believe that somewhere, sometime, someone will read something I've written and realize something positive about themselves. Perhaps that they are not alone. Or maybe they will think about their own Spirits in a new Light. That is what drives me to blog, to write online articles, and to use Facebook -- although admittedly, Facebook is where my vanity likes to play!

I have so much more to explore and share on this topic, but my writing time is at an end. Suffice it to say that I plan to use this blog as a forum to share my journey. I have decided to actively work toward eventual Ordination, and see if the Universe aids me or stops me, or perhaps, sends me in a different direction altogether. I'll keep this page up to date as to my progress, and share with you all much of what I learn about life along the way.

To Your Best Self!

A Very Brief Natural Body-Care Update

2012-07-17T15:07:00.004-07:00

Very brief!

I had planned to do a lot with natural body care this summer, and to share that with you. However, all I've had time to do is stick with what was already working:

Honey. Best face-wash EVER. I use it everyday, twice a day, and my skin is acne-free and soft. I have almost completely eliminated facial lotion from my regimen. I also use baking soda occasionally as an exfoliant per my original post.
All-natural/organic/perfume-free Bar Soap Shampoo and White Vinegar Rinse. It WORKS. At least, on my hair.
Coconut oil -- in the summertime, I only need it for minor skin irritations.
My BFF from high school got me an amazingly wonderful lip balm for my birthday: Lemon Lips by Skin. It is fabulous! I love specialty lip balms with ingredients I can mostly find around the house, or in a nearby garden.

And... that's about it! I do have plans in the works to try out more natural products... but it will be happening more, er, organically than I'd originally intended.

UPDATE: No idea what was up with the white background behind all the text when I originally posted this. Hopefully, it is fixed now.

Positive Thinking and Emotional Response

2012-04-20T11:05:00.002-07:00

I've been going through a lot recently. It seems to be my pattern. Yesterday I realized, with a smile and a tear, that my life can be summed up this way:

My life is a recurring cycle of one existential crisis after another.

I laughed when I realized how true that is. As I've probably blogged, at least once, a long time ago: I cried myself to sleep when I was 5 because I couldn't comprehend the vastness of the Universe -- I couldn't comprehend infinity. It's not just a story my Mom tells, or a vague memory I cling to without being able to relive it in my mind. I actually remember that night. I remember how hard I tried to comprehend Infinity, I remember the feeling of my brain pressing against my skull as I thought and thought and thought, I remember waking up in the morning and deciding it was better not to thing about it. For now.

So yes, once again, I'm having another such personal identity/meaning-of-life-type personal crisis, which seem to happen more and more frequently these days. Often, the Universe sends me messages during such times, often in the form of books/movies/other mass media outlets that throw coincidence after coincidence at me. Today, I found a blog post front-and-center on my Facebook wall. And here it is:

The Lie About Positive Thinking

This is one of those topics that my enlightened life-partner understands, and practices, with apparent ease. Someday I'll get into the habit of it. Right now, I'm content to be slapped in the face with it. Thanks, Universe!

Help for a Nose-Rubbed-Red: Aloe Vera Gel

2012-04-10T06:39:00.000-07:00

I have a really, really bad cold. The kind that makes you sneeze in great fits. The kind that forces you to rub your nose, and the skin just below it, every 30 seconds. The kind that makes your top lip puff and sting from the constant irritation of tissue-contact.

A pediatrician of my daughter's swears by olive oil rubbed under the nose. Coconut oil isn't bad. I, however, vastly prefer aloe-vera gel. Dabbed on my face 50 times a day, it makes the sensitive, dry, irritated area above my lips appear practically normal. I can go out in public without being red-faced -- well, at least not from rubbing my nose, anyway. The teary, watery eyes? Well, that's what sunglasses are for, of course!

My Honey-Face is Soft as Silk: More on Natural Beauty in the Coming Months

2012-04-09T04:26:00.000-07:00

Honey is, definitively, the best facial cleanser I have ever used.

Period.

Since my last post, I've been low on time, energy, funds, and high on common everyday nuisances (er, I mean, potentially-uplifting-challenges). I have lots of plans for discovering the best in Natural Beauty! ...but, I haven't finished carrying them out yet. What I have done is to continue where I left off.

Which means that Honey is now my official facial cleanser. I use it nearly everytime I wash my face. I have cut back my consumption of facial moisturizer by 75%. My almost-empty bottle of organic facial wash? It's at about the same level it was two months ago, and it's great as a back-up for mascara removal. Otherwise... I've replaced it with my little baby jar full of honey.
(To read more about using honey as a face wash, see my last post.)

Actually, this weekend is the first time I've thought about the need to refill my little bottle. So little honey goes such a long way.

The Result:

My skin is as soft as my toddler's.
My partner has noticed the difference, "especially in your cheeks", where I have had a slight rash.
I appear less tired and noticeably younger, even on days when I'm totally exhausted. Don't get me wrong - I still have baggy-eyed days, but fewer of them.
My (powder-base) make-up lasts significantly longer.
I look a heck of a lot better sans make-up -- great for those days like today, when I have a bad cold, and it's pointless to put it on anyway, what with all the sneezing and eyes-watering and etc.

I am really, truly impressed with the bounty of the bees. (Help save honey bees here!)

My so-simple-it's-silly routine:

Brush my teeth.
Rinse and spit. ;)
Since I already have my hands wet, I splash my face. Feels good!
Turn off the water. Grab the jar, twist off the lid, pour a bit into the palm of one hand, and close the jar. I've now mastered the art of doing this without any drips to make the glass or lid sticky. It's not difficult, just up to each person to figure out their method. (Alternately, I do a little baking soda scrub, rinse my face, and then open the honey jar.)
Slather the honey all over my entire face. (I still avoid my eyes, but if they really need it, I'll do a second quick-cleanse over my eyes with honey so that I can rinse it off quickly - more quickly than I rinse my entire face.)
Rub it in a bit while it's wet and slippery.
Rinse! As long as you remember to wet your face first, honey rinses surprisingly quickly and cleanly.
Gently pat my face dry with a towel.
If you have a small sink (like mine) and counter-splash is unavoidable, grab an old washcloth and wipe down the counter. Otherwise a slightly sticky layer of honey will be left when the counter drys. Less sticky than you might think, but sticky enough to feel.
About 12 hours later: Repeat.

Thanks again to Diane Kidman for the tip.

One Honey of a Facial!: First Impressions on Honey as a Beauty Cleanser

2012-03-12T09:18:00.000-07:00

Honey, baking soda, and a journal. Random!

As intended, this past week I started my journey of discovery for all natural, homemade beauty-care. I started shopping around for supplies and doing price comparisons on essential oils. I placed an order and will continue to accumulate supplies over time, thus spreading out the cost, until I have everything ready.

In the meantime, I got started with the one natural beauty product of which I have plenty available: Honey. I'm using Wegmans brand clover-leaf honey. Because it never spoils, we usually purchase it in the largest size we can afford at the time, which comes at the best possible price. It seems to last forever. Yes yes, I know this honey is heated and filtered and processed*. I wish it weren't so. I have to make sacrifices for my pocketbook somewhere, and commercial honey is, to me at least, less suspect than non-organic ground beef.

So, I took my honey and poured some into a baby food jar that I'd sterilized in the dishwasher. See how cute it is?

The First Big Test
It is Awesome. Awesome!

I decided to give it a try in the evening, just in case I ended up breaking out into a rash or something. That way, my skin would have the night to recover. I paired it with a simple baking soda scrub, as suggested by Diane Kidman in her book. The scrub involves taking a small amount of baking soda (pictured in the tiny ramekin above) and gently, briefly rubbing it onto damp skin, then following up with the honey.

The baking soda scrub was wonderful. Having been burned by commercial products, I was indeed extremely soft with my touch and I didn't let it stay on my face for more than 45 seconds, if that long. It rinsed easily.

Next, I dipped my fingers into the baby jar - and immediately wished I'd kept my old honey dipper! It is so slick it's hard to "pick up" like lotion. Miraculously, I managed to get a small amount on my hands without it dripping in little gobs down the outside of the jar.

These little buggers make up for their stings
with smooth, silky honey. Thanks, guys!

The feel of honey on my skin is smooth and soft. There was no stinging, which I have learned to associate with some "sweet" facial products and applications. It was surprisingly moist and easy to spread -- "stickiness" was not an issue. As with the baking soda, I didn't leave it on my skin very long, but just gave it enough time for me to rub it around before rinsing it off, while carefully avoiding my eyes and my hairline. As I rinsed, I had the slightest taste of sweet come in from the corners of my mouth. Just enough to be pleasant, like a single lick of a really yummy lollipop.

Even more welcome than the feel was the ease with which it rinsed cleanly off my skin. It turns out that it is much easier to remove honey from skin than from kitchen countertops! (But that's only because it's not as easy to throw handfuls of water on the counter and let it fall into a bowl. That'd just be yet another mess to clean.)

As Kidman promised, I didn't feel the need for moisturizer. So for this first try, I skipped it. In the end, my skin was so smooth and soft, I was truly impressed. The next morning my skin felt slightly drier than usual, by by no means was it "dry".

Subsequent Uses
I'm starting small. I know that my skin is sensitive to moisture and I've been using the same Neutrogena product for YEARS. With that in mind, I've been switching out my washes - honey this morning with no lotion, then maybe a small moisturizer application in the late afternoon, followed with a regular cleanse in the evening. Or vice versa. I haven't used the baking soda again yet, I think I'll make that a once-a-week affair. It sure is easier to use than the other commercial scrub I'd been using - you know, the kind that's green, makes you wait 10 minutes, and freaks young children out to see you wearing it. (I nearly gave my 2 yr-old a heart-attack recently. "Mommy you're a monster!" Mmm hmm!)

What I am finding is that my skin requires far less of the Neutrogena. It has an SPF of 15, but my make-up is SPF 10, so I don't really need it for the sun-damage-prevention as I did ages ago when I rarely wore make-up.

I also find that, if I'm very careful, it is (thus far) safe to put on my eyes. However, I need another solution here -- honey does absolutely NOTHING when it comes to mascara removal. I mean, did I really expect it to? Um... Well, I had hoped... So, yeah, I need to find an alternative natural eye-make-up remover of the non-greasy variety, preferably one that doesn't require rinsing -- much like the disposable remover pads you can find in just about any store. A cottonball is just fine for me. Suggestions, anyone?

Next up: Oral care! Oooo, exciting! ;)

* I have yet to find Wegmans honey on the lists of the de-pollenated. If I do, I will seek it out elsewhere.

Beauty-Care: Au Natural - in which I endeavor to create my own skin, body, and haircare

2012-03-05T06:00:00.000-08:00

Skins as smooth as rose petals... because it's nourished by rose petals.
Image thanks to http://www.freecomputerdesktopwallpaper.com

I've been watching, listening, and educating myself on natural beauty and holistic body-care for a while now.

We're surrounded by unavoidable toxins in our environment. There isn't enough green tea and dark chocolate in the world to detox the body of the average American given the chemicals we consume daily. People often thing of their skin as a kind of soft armor -- a solid barrier between the body and the outside world. Given some thought it's obvious that our body uses the skin as an instrument of detoxification, through our perspiration. In reality, our skin is a two-way street. We not only excrete through the skin, we consume. Click through to this fabulous graphic "What Your Skin Eats" on TrenchPress.

Given that "Your skin absorbs 60% of every topical thing you put on it" (TrenchPress), it seems almost irresponsible of me to purposefully rub unknown substances onto my skin. I've watched how my arms and legs soak up commercial moisturizers and unrefined oils both. I've observed how much more often the "quality" skincare products make me break out. I'm resolved to do something different about it.

Like so many women today, once I reached adolescence, my skin changed its diet from Ivory soap to every perfume-and-chemical-laden liquid soap known to humanity. Not that it was hard. For years, holidays seemed to be nothing but an excuse for a soap-swap, as upscale bath products became the go-to gift for every woman. At one time I had a stockpile that lasted several years without my making a new purchase - and that included unopened product I regifted to other people.

I'm "almost pushing 40" and I want to maintain my skin as well as I can from here on out. Mother Nature currently feeds my mind, my soul and my internal body. I want to rely on Her to nourish my external body as well. And why not? For what are we but extensions of Nature's Creation?

A few years ago, I began using solid shampoo bars to cleanse my hair followed by a simple vinegar rinse. It is truly awesome to visit a salon, have the stylist compliment you on the health of your hair, and know they have NO IDEA that you don't use any of their "product"! I also began using unrefined coconut oil as my primary body moisturizer, and a few months ago I started dry skin brushing. (More on that another time.)

With these small, easy changes, I have been easing my way into giving up commercial beauty products altogether. Finally, I've come across a resource that works for me:
Beauty Gone Wild! Herbal Recipes for Gorgeous Skin & Hair by Diane Kidman.

Facial purifier, perfume, or cocktail?
Maybe all three! via MixnSip.com

Over the next several months, I will begin a personal experiment in natural beauty, learning to make my own facial cleansers, astringents, and moisturizers. I will try a few new tips for haircare. One afternoon to come, I will experiment with making my own perfume using a recipe containing many handfulls of rose petals and 100 proof vodka. Ms. Kidman has a recipe that simply must be tried.

In invite you to follow me in this journey, as I report back to you about the recipes, the ingredients and how easy (or not) it is for me to find them, ease of use, and the results.

Notes-To-Self: Stevia Minced Garlic and Other Random Kitchen TidBits

2012-03-03T19:02:00.003-08:00

Here is a little collection of kitchen notes -- things I've noted in my head, that I want to remember. Some of them may prove useful to some of you too!

1. Stevia Extract
Stevia is awesome. Here are several articles sharing the whys of its awesomeness:

Plastic is better for shipping ;)

Life With Stevia: How Sweet It Is! (Daniel B. Mowry PhD)
Stevia: Good or Bad? (The Iron You)

I tried to find an article badmouthing stevia, and this is all I could come up with on short notice.

I was slow to try stevia, but I now love it. I tend to steer clear of the white powdered version, but I can't find the less-refined, naturally green versions on my supermarket shelves. What I've come to rely on is this:
NuNaturals Pure Liquid Clear Stevia (2 oz)

I purchase this for $11 to $12 in a glass bottle at Wegmans. Seems high priced? Actually, it's practically the least expensive safe sweetener out there. Get this: 5 drops a serving, 236 servings per 2 oz bottle. I've had my current bottle for several months and it's only half-empty, and trust me, I use it several times each day. Often, 5 drops is too sweet for me... and so I get even more uses out of this tiny bottle that sits so conveniently next to my coffee grinder.

Just get it.

2. Minced Garlic
I use so much garlic that I've wimped out and started buying it pre-minced/chopped in cute little jars that would get lost in my fridge if I weren't using them as often. It's a time saver both in terms of smooshing/chopping and in dish-cleaning, as I'm more likely to use fresh garlic than onions in many of my recipes -- and yes, I'm too lazy to dirty up yet another dish just for a clove of garlic.

Last time I bought a jar, I skipped the Wegman's brand and went for the (much) cheaper, larger jar sitting on the lower shelf. Bad idea. It reeks. It's obviously not as fresh. It don't taste as good. The quality of oil it's jarred within is not as fine. It sucks, and I am working my way through the jar as fast as I can to get it out of my fridge.

Next time, I'll just get the Wegmans brand Minced Garlic in Olive Oil. It's worth it.

3. Red Onions....
....go so much better in beans and brown rice. Wow, what a difference! They add a wonderful sweetness that goes so well with the tang of the red-pepper flakes. The regular ol' white or yellow onions can make one want to add hot sauce -- the red onions make the dish stand alone. I'm writing that straight into the recipe book.

4. Bins for the Freezer
Uh, yeah, now that the local, pasture-raised meat CSA has started, get some cheap plastic bins to sort the foodstuffs in our tiny freezer. That way things won't fall out every time we open the door. ;)

Leftovers "Lasagna" - Grain-free fridge-cleaning goodness!

2012-02-26T20:03:00.001-08:00

Hmm... I gots ham, cheese, salsa...

I should have taken a picture.

No really! I had this awesome edible lunch contraption, and I fed it to my family... without taking a picture first.

Not that it would have been very pretty. It was a layered mess in a pyrex dish. But so goood! Granted, I happened to have a LOT of leftover lasagna making ingredients. I'm sure to have a different mix of ingredients next time, but cooking is an adventure, and I'll certainly riff on this same theme.

It's been a couple weeks since I made the beast-that-was-not-lasagna, using leftovers from the fridge, but I wish I'd written it down. Hence, here's what I remember of this gluten-free goodness.

It's-Not-Lasagna Layered Leftovers Bake
(for oven or microwave)

Ingredients

Thinly-sliced ham
Selection of leftover hard cheeses: parmesan*, romano, gruyere, etc. Believe it or not, I mixed half-empty bags of leftover dairy and dairy-free shredded cheeses.
Ricotta
Mozzarella
Leftover ground beef
Black olives, sliced
Tomato sauce, "pasta" sauce, salsa - whatever you've got on hand

Method
Grab the handiest four-sided pyrex dish that seems large enough to feed a small family. (Or just yourself, if you're making this for one.) If you plan to use the microwave, use a square dish.

Lightly grease the bottom of the dish.
Line the bottom of the dish with with one overlapping layer of ham.
Layer up:

A thin coating of shredded cheese
Ground beef
Ricotta (enough to coat the beef - gently use a spatula to spread)
Sauce / Salsa
Olives
Random toppings - just layer up whatever you'd like
Save some mozzarella and parmesan for the top, like with pizza.

Bake in the oven for about 20-30 minutes at 350F - just long enough to melt the cheese and get the meats good and hot. Alternately, lightly cover and put it in the microwave on high for 3-4 minutes at a time, letting it pause a moment between cycles and checking to see if its done. I recommend "watching" it like this until you know how it will behave as it cooks in your microwave - sometimes, sauces trapped under melting cheese "burst" before the ricotta and ground beef have had the chance to fully warm. Add to that the tendency for ham to "pop" when nuked.

Let it rest for a few minutes after pulling it out of the oven/microwave. Cut and serve like slightly-soupy lasagna! Yum!

Salsa Chili - or - Salsa Saves The Day Yet Again

2012-02-23T19:34:00.001-08:00

Salsa Chili, 2/23/12. Taken with my crap camera phone.

It's a regular occurrence in our house that I'm half way through cooking a meal and realize that I don't have all the ingredients on hand.

Oops.

Such is life for the sorta-organized, when you remember you bought those jars of tomato sauce but completely forgot about using them last night and the night before.

The vast majority of the time, however, I find a substitution of some sort and the dish comes out just fine, or better than fine. Sometimes, the mistakes are far better than the original recipes!

Such was the case this morning with my Salsa Chili (recipe below). I soaked the beans overnight, and had just finished cooking and draining them. The meat was browning up nicely in the pan. I put the crock-pot in place and started piling in ingredients, when every cook's nightmare came true. You see, I know I had some diced tomatoes, or at least some tomato sauce, lying about the cupboard. I'm sure I did.

Come to think of it... I never checked, I just assumed. And we were out. Again.

So, I did what comes naturally these days: I did a quick visual inventory of the cupboard and the fridge, and made do with whatever was on hand. Today it happened to be a vat of Wegmans medium heat salsa.

We call it "the vat". The vat is a gigantic family size jug of the spicy tomato-ey goodness. We use it on everything. No no - I mean Everything. Not quite the way my truck driving, chain smoking Uncle put Tabasco on his entire plate for every meal, but close enough. Why do we do this? Because salsa is magical! Salsa is the ultimate condiment for all occasions. Let me explain:

Salsa: The Magic Condiment

Out of ketchup? Try salsa. Bunless burgers piled with salsa, sour cream and greenbeans are delicious.
Bored of plain ol' eggs in the morning? Try made-to-order-eggs with salsa dropped on top. Start with a tbs. per egg, add more as desired.
Too tired to chop up veggies for your homemade pasta sauce? Use salsa instead! It comes with pre-chopped green peppers, onions, garlic -- it's the perfect time saver for the weary cook. (Just make sure it's not too spicy for sensitive palates. Parmesan does a lot to help take the heat off the pasta, at least for some.)

Seriously, salsa is the secret to my success as a lazy homemaker. It fixes EVERYTHING.

Salsa Chili - serves 4, double for leftovers.

Soak 1C of kidney beans at least 12 hours or overnight. Add a tsp or 2 of lemon juice to the water for good measure. (More on that another day.) Drain and rinse.
Boil up the beans in a big pot with plenty of water. Reduce the boil to a light roll and leave it an hour or two, stirring occasionally. Drain, lightly rinse.
Brown up 1 lb of ground beef, chopping it into chili-sized bits as you do. Strive for organic beef, or at the minimum, pasture-raised. In case of grease, remove the beef to a bowl with a slotted spoon before adding to the crock-pot.
Put the beans, the beef, and everything below into the crock-pot, and give it a good stir:

1 TBS dried basil
1 tsp salt
4-5 TBS chili powder
2.5 to 3 C Salsa
1/4 cup water (less or more, to a consistency slightly more watery than you'd like the finished chili to be)
pepper to taste.

Cook on HIGH for 3-4 hours, or LOW for 7-8 hours, or if you're like me, put it on high for a couple hours and then switch it down to low for another 5. Because nothing's worse than realizing your beans aren't soft enough an hour before dinnertime.

Let me tell you: I'm not going back to my old standby chili recipe again! Unless, of course, I'm out of salsa....

A Mother's Lament on Resentment

2012-02-09T15:39:00.000-08:00

"Mommy no sing!"

Readers, please note: The following is a very long, incredibly sappy, excruciatingly cry-babyish, narcissistic and melodramatic post. I'm sharing this slightly-embarrassing real-life story with you because it is such a great example of one of my personal tenets for Whole Spirit: Write Things Down, Get Them Into The Light. When we journal or write letters or just talk to somebody about the quiet issues in our lives, it has a way of clearing the path for resolution and completion around those issues. And so, I give you my saga of lament.

I wrote the following post one week ago, on February 1st, but did not publish it until now:

-----------------

Tonight I realized that it's true: I really do resent my daughter.

Tonight, I lay next to her on her bed and quietly wept while she finally fell peacefully asleep.

I wept, because I can't do any of the things for her that, for me, make me the unique individual and parent that I am. The things that I love, that my parents did for me, that help define me to myself. Because.... she won't let me. I'd really hoped this would be a phase that would come and go, have it's day and wear off like so many toddler fads. And yet it started months ago. It started when she could barely talk, we we'd be singing or clapping together, and she's say "No, Mom, s'me!" Now that she can speak in sentences, it comes out clear: "No, Mommy, it's my turn!" or, with increasing frequency, "No Mommy, stop. Stop singing. Mommy no sing. Stop!"

Stop singing.

As in, if I sing for her, or to a song on the radio, or (god-forbid) for myself, she will ceaselessly nag me until I quit.

I was raised a musician, in a musical family, the daughter of a jazz drummer with a resonant deep bass voice and a strong alto who helped teach me to read music from an early age from the church hymnals on Sunday mornings. The three of us are natural musicians -- we would sing scales along with the vacuum cleaner, invent harmonies, beat together in rhythm on the coffee table. (My father's constant use of the table as an instrument lead to noticeable wear in the finish -- his drumming fingers removed it one beat at a time.) We didn't sing together much Von Trapp-style, but that wasn't our style; most of our mutual performances were jokes or sound experiments. We were more likely to sing along to B.B. King, Paul Simon or The Eagles as a family than to "Row Row Row Your Boat" -- although, as a toddler, Mom and I shared a fair number of rounds on that theme.

Music is such a part of me, of my family, that I got my BA in Music. I am not a musician by profession, but it is part of my daily -- even hourly -- existence. I sing all the time. I drum out beats. I play mouth trumpet. My range is greater than two octaves, and that's after it shrunk since I'm not training classically anymore. I don't have perfect pitch but it's close. I can sing just about anything, and I do -- All. The. Time.

So for my 2.5 year old daughter to insist -- INSIST -- that I not sing in her presence, is literally heartbreaking. She will not let me sing. When I insist, and I keep singing, her protests become louder and there is no end to them. She yells at me for as long as I sing...

...and then some. If I'm singing to a song on the radio, and the voice remotely reminds me of her, she tells me to stop singing. "But I'm not singing!" I'll say while the other voice is crooning, so she'll understand that it can't be me. (It is flattering the voices she mistakes for mine, but dammit, why can't I sing for her then?!)

But it's not just singing to the radio. Say she's sick, or missed a nap, and it's bedtime and she needs me. "Mommy, mommy, sit right here," she'll say, her way of telling me she wants to be near my or in my lap while I console her to sleep.

But that's the extent of it. She sits there, I sit there. Because I can't sing to her. Not only that, I can't hum to her. Not only that, I can't touch her. That's right, I can't even gently stroke her hair or offer her a light back rub. She doesn't want me to touch her! At all!

Touch is among the strongest bonds between children and parents. Babies are born into a world of touch; parents are as well, as often parents have an initiation of sorts while they get used to touching, and being touched by, another being in far more intimate ways than they can remember. My mother always stroked my hair in the softest, most loving, gentlest fashion. As a kid, sometimes I'd ask for a headlice check just so I could feel her carefully sifting through my hair, strand by strand, so loving in her looking.

Since she was born, I've tried to give my child that same soft, loving touch. Studies have proven that touch greatly increases infants' ability to thrive when all other measures of nurture are equal (food, shelter, etc.) I love to tough her head, to run my hand along her soft smooth arm, to tickle the bottoms of her feet. She loves to be tickled! And I've always been aware that as she ages, the level of touch will decrease. That's normal and natural in any family.

But what I resent is holding -- if you can call it that -- my hurting child, and not being able to do any of the things I am inspired to do to comfort her. In this instance, I can't sing, I can't hum, I can't even breathe in time -- and I can't touch her. All I can do, in many cases, is lay there unmoving and stare at the wall.

So the best parts of parenting -- the ones that come the most naturally, that make the endless crying and bouts of screaming and occasional projectile vomits and being on call at the drop of a hat a virtual non-issue -- are not available to me at our time of need, neither hers nor mine. Mothering is therefore a one-way street, in which she is nurtured, but I am not. I'm just the lump that has to be there, 24/7, all the time, and I can't even do anything to help. I'm not allowed to express my love in a way that's meaningful to me, well, unless I'm prepared to put up with more yelling and crying screaming to "Stop it, Mommy! Stop!"

And so, this mother finds herself resentful of her own daughter. It's literally been months and months, coming up on a year, and I'm left praying this curse will someday come to an end.

-----------------

Word for unedited word, I poured out my heart, but I didn't post it because I wanted to see what would happen after I wrote it down. I wanted to see how quickly it would change. (That, and I realize how horrifically sappy and conceited it is.)

...Sure enough, the universe shifted.

After getting all of that off my heart, I immediately felt better, and was less tense with my daughter. I was also suddenly able to be much more firm with her in a calm, loving way. She's spent a lot of time in the "naughty corner", not just for things she's done (i.e. throwing toys, like any 2 year old) but for trying to talk over me or telling me to stop talking, or stop working, or stop singing.

Circa 2011:
"Don't touch me, Mommy."

I haven't forced a return to my usual frequencies of singing on her, but neither has she complained when I have used my voice. Before I wrote this, I couldn't get a measure in edgewise. Now, she's singing songs with me, and I can use touch as a tool for reassurance and comfort again. The dynamic has completely changed.

Thanks to my wonderful Evil Prince for supporting me through this difficult realization. His advice and encouragement have advanced the transformation on this issue. Granted, it's only been a week, but I hope this new way of being with her is "stuck like a bug" -- namely, like the imaginary StuckBug we play with sometimes. I guess it's time we made up a song for him.

My New Blog is on teh Interwebs

2012-02-06T09:30:00.000-08:00

Friends, just a quick note to let you know that my new blog is up:

...Because We're All at the Center of Infinity

Yeah, Doug Williams doesn't
belong on this blog. Unless he's a
whole foods advocate or something!

It's not quite ready for prime time, but I was inspired to write about the Super Bowl, and well, who's gonna care about that a week from now? So I threw it up there, fodder for the wolves, but so it is. *sigh!*

"Center of Infinity" will not at all be replacing this blog. In fact, often the posts on the two blogs will complement each other. However, this blog will retain my core metaphysical, waaaaay too introspective writings, plus food or recipes, health, nutrition, exercise -- anything related to whole-body-wellness. I've already got several up-and-coming posts for this page in the works. I even carry a little book around in my purse now, just for jotting notes. Yes, me hearties, hoist the main sail and curse like a pirate! There is some serious writing ahead!

...My daughter is 2 1/2. The writing drought is over. Hurray!!!

ch- ch- ch- ch- Changes!!!

2012-01-29T18:48:00.000-08:00

Times... they are a-changin'. And believe it or not, I will soon be utilizing this blog both more often... and more smartly.

You see, I love to write. More importantly, I love to write about myself. ("Narcissist much?" Yes.) Back before I had kids and had a bit more time on my hands, my current conglomeration of blogs and socially networked memberships worked well for me. I organized my blogs, Twitter and Facebook to kinda, sorta work in conjunction, for my own benefit and that of those who wanted to keep up with some aspects of my life, but not others. And it worked.... kinda.

Today I begin to restructure my personal "brand", as it were, here on the Interwebs. Changes, they are a-comin' - changes that may effect this particular url. Currently, I plan to keep this blog (I love WholePup! I am WholePup!) but to shrink the categories of topics I post about here. I will continue to occasionally post about food, diet revolution and recipes in this space. All things health and well-being will go here, but there will be fewer personal stories to go with them. I have a new, bigger and better space for that coming.

In the meantime... I have a TON of bottled up blog posts about eating gluten-free and naturally and Community Supported Agriculture and emotional healing bottled up within me. And I will unpop that cork for you as soon as I have a spiffy new label on the bottle... very soon.

PS. If you see plenty of blank space around this post... yes I know, it's part of the process of change, images will fill those blanks soon enough. =)

...In With The New

2012-01-01T19:25:00.000-08:00

Since my last post of two months ago, things have kind of stayed the same. It's been a crazy-busy-stressful time, and I have done a LOT of eating to help cope with the shortage of personal time and space in my daily life.

I've also been making a mental list -- a double-bulleted mental list -- of

the ways in which my life lacks a reflection of my personal tastes, wants and needs
and
my actual personal tastes, wants and needs.

For example, I have given up the personal time I used to spend listening to music, absorbing it, meditating on it, letting my thoughts form around the sounds until I learn something new about myself. That's time I now spend doing things like fretting about the degree of nastiness ground into our dirty carpet.

...But even given that time, what kind of music would I enjoy? I mean, what bands out there do I really like that much these days? Coming from an avid singer with a music degree, the question seems absurd. But that's how far down the ladder I've put my own wants and needs. It started 12 years ago when I told myself that if I wanted to get out of the godforsaken hellhole I'd wound up stuck in, I needed spend less time analyzing music and more time reading non-fiction and research business/grad-school opportunities.

You see, when I need to carve a new path for myself, the only way I can get there is by removing more-pleasing alternatives from the list of possible options. Otherwise, I become distracted by and get engrossed in more interesting things that don't serve my end goal.

Hence:

It's been years since I knew what genre of fiction is my favorite. Non-fiction creates knowledge, knowledge leads to action, opportunity and jobs!

It's been years since I knew what my favorite musical genre really is. Saving money after college meant: No more CMJ subscription, no more CD-budget, no digital music players or related gadgets to tempt me to spend away my meager savings $0.99 at a time. It also meant more time to read all that non-fiction and watch the news.

Crappin' piece of crap!
I love you, you're all I
have in my alone-time
space...

I seem to remember that my most important piece of furniture was always my stereo. Seriously. My Dad was a jazz musician who always had a kickin' stereo, and I happily inherited them. I've worn a few of them out. I don't even have a stereo in my bedroom now -- you know, the bedroom, the one place I can go and pretend to be alone. I've stole my toddler's boombox, but it isn't in stereo and doesn't even have a headset jack. I can't even "seek" within tracks -- in fact, the only reason I've given myself "permission" to have it in my room is because she's at an age where she'd climb the walls to get it down, and then break it/electrocute herself. So it's not even mine. And it's not good enough to use for "letting my thoughts form around the sounds" anyway. It's a piece of crap.

Yeah.

But it's not like I can just chuck all these learned behaviors. I mean, I still have to save money, especially given the last couple years worth of unexpected income-lowering stuff that's happened to my family. And it's not like I can just close the bedroom door, turn up the stereo and zone out -- as a parent, partner, and daughter-in-the-room-next-door, I'm on-call 24/7. My partner does a great job at attempting to give me some personal time. But I use most of that time completing long-overdue projects, or sleeping.

Therefore, it's not "Out With The Old". Nope, because that's just stupid. Stupid, and would result in Resolutions that are broken within days.

But it's definitely In With The New. Because this year... I WILL invest in music. I WILL read some books just for fun. And I WILL be better for it.

Big Pulsating Ball of Stress... and That's Just Me

2011-11-04T08:00:00.000-07:00

This is not the week from Hell*. Not by a long shot. But it is one of my most stressful weeks in recent memory.

As I discussed in my previous post, this is in large part because I have no healthy way to vent my frustrations and negative energy. This in itself is due in part to the unique relationship between my daughter and I -- specifically, our energy relationship.

Spaced and Displaced
I have a large personal energy space. A big energy "Field". A huge aura. However one wants to put it, mine is always out there - spread waaaaay out there, I can feel its edges touching the world at about 75 to 80 yards out. I can "hold a room", as Suzanne might say, but mostly because it's the only way I know how to be. I'm either holding the room, or riding on the pins and needles before my bubble bursts (which leaves me bedridden and exhausted for about 2 days when it occurs).

If only I felt so neatly contained.

Having a huge Field is not all bad, it's actually been pretty cool for me! It explains why I can sense when certain people enter a room - even when I'm across the crowd on the other side. Their charismatic auras touch mine, and I know who they are by the "scent" of it. It explains, as I've discussed previously, why "crazy" people on Metro buses and subways like to talk to me/at me/lash out at me. They're within my Field, they can feel a connection with someone, and it draws them straight to me.

It explains why, as a young child, my teachers always sat me next to the classroom "troublemakers" - the kids who would not or could not sit still. My teachers explained to my Mom that I had a "calming effect" on these children. (Too bad this also meant that I was generally segregated with the "bad" kids and contributed to my inability to get into the "popular" crowd. Of course, that was also because my Huge Charisma, darkened by depression, also scared the heck out of those kids, who ruled the playground by rumor and intimidation.)

But... I cannot pull in. I'm always "heard", even when I'm trying to be quiet as a mouse, as unimposing on anyone around me. To some people, I'm always loud and overbearing, no matter how my actions may imply something completely different.

Parenthood and Conflicting Energies
Even before she was born, I could feel her bright spark, the enormous charisma to be. Even before she was born, I knew this would cause us to butt heads and create conflict where none is necessary.

For the first 34 years of my life, when I need to "recharge my batteries and refill my tank" (again to paraphrase Suzanne), I take my huge broad energy Field somewhere BIG and LONELY. I take a walk in the woods and fill up the woods, and let the woods fill me. Then I am able to pull in and journal about my needs and experiences.

When the woods are not available, I hole up in my home. I shut the door, I hibernate, I block out sound and sometimes light, I occasionally block out thought with a comfortable old action flick, I let my energy Field spread out in safety -- in the knowledge that anything it touches is not going to ask anything of me. I don't have to "be there" for anyone but myself. I can rest in the solitude of my mind's eye, and block out any outer influences that may be tugging on the rims of my Field.

...A solace that is Not Possible when there is a Giant in the next room, constantly demanding to know where you are, what you are doing, when you are coming back, and why you're not being with them, at EVERY GIVEN MOMENT. Argh! No matter how I try, I can't block her out. I can get physical, but not spiritual/emotional rest while she's in the same room. I can't rest when she's in the Next room because I can hear her talking, knocking on the door, asking someone "Where's Mommy?", constantly checking up on me.

And when I CAN block out the noise, I can feel her huge presence. She has inherited my Field, and that of my father, but her's is like my father's in that it is So Much Larger than mine. We are constantly entangled, sharing the same energetic space, regularly rubbing together the edges and surfaces of our respective auras in ways that are, at times, incredibly grating on a tired adult with no personal space.

What I Must Do, for Her, for Me
I have a responsibility to her - I have to teach her how to manage her wide Field, to use it wisely, to understand that sometimes she will intimidate others without meaning to. I want to help her avoid the confusion of so many of my years, wondering "What did I do?" before I was aware my energy Field existed in the way that it does. I don't want her to make decisions I made to hide myself under layers of fat and let people practically walk all over me, just so I could stay out of the spotlight just a little bit. It's hard, it's really hard. But how can I teach her these things when, as yet, I have no idea how to do it myself?

Thank God, I work for Suzanne. Suzanne! I need your help!!!

*Hell being, in some ways, a subjective term. I honestly don't believe in hell, as I don't believe in a punishing God. I prefer to think of this Life here on Earth as about as hellish a place as any in the universes. ;)

A Year of Significant Change

2011-11-02T07:39:00.000-07:00

What a year this has been.

Squirrel cage-iness...

So many areas of my life are in flux, that I must dub this The Year of Change. There are many ongoing processes in my life, specifically: the Financial, the Emotional/Spiritual, and the Physical (read: my expanding waistband!)

At the moment, I want to discuss those last two. They are closely interrelated. As I work through my emotional issues, long buried, reburying and digging them up again, I am gaining a ton of weight. I thought it was just my medication (which is a known contributor, per my Docs) but it's just become ridiculous. I can't wear my clothes anymore, and my dominate facial feature is now its roundness, including my ever-growing second chin. It's just depressing.

I'm in a cycle I can't seem to break. But I've had a breakthrough: It didn't fully hit me HOW closely my emotional/spiritual issues and my weight are tied until just recently. It really sunk in during a conversation about raising our daughter, and the role our behavior has in teaching her, when my partner asked: "What do you do to vent your [everyday and occasional] frustration? What do you do when you get mad to release that?"

Umm...... nothing..... yep.... thinking some more.... nothing.

Hmm. I eat. Eating/drinking something when I'm frustrated (which is much of the time) makes me feel better.

Other than that, I have no current outlet for my built-up feelings of negativity. I don't have a time in my day when I can run-them-off or work-them-off like I used to. I'm not dog walking or enjoying a vocation that allows me to meditate and physically work off my emotions while getting paid for it. I no longer have a commute to work that forces me to walk in the brisk autumn air and contemplate life as I hoof it to the busstop. And I can't do any of that inner emotional work while I'm doing those regular physical activities I currently have, because I am not able to do that while I am taking care of my daughter at the same time. To do that work, I have to close a part of myself for a time, and I cannot shut that door while I am with her, watching after her, being in the moment with her. That's just how it is.

Something in my everyday has to change, or this cycle won't end. Settling and calming my inner turmoils will not alone be enough to affect my physical being. If it was enough, I wouldn't be in this deep. Something has to change!

Grains, Legumes, and Seeds, Oh My! Plus a Fall Muffin Recipe

2011-10-02T15:36:00.000-07:00

My toddler's got a very sensitive system. Given that she was birthed from me, really, I'm not surprised.

She and I are both now gluten-free and dairy-free, and while she drinks soy milk I also make sure to substitute some of her "dairy" with coconut and almond milk products. Rice... well, we eat so much rice in its whole-grain form, I try to limit processed rice products as much as possible, aside from a cookie here and there.

Because of her gentle system, we have to eat a LOT more whole grains. Oatmeal everyday just doesn't do the trick for her as it does for me. So I've been soaking, and soaking, and cooking, and cooking a LOT!

We regularly consume:
Chickpeas:

Chana masala -- $1 for a box of seasoning that lasts FOREVER, plus dried chickpeas = good eats on the super cheap!

Falafal -- I just need to get it to stay together a bit better. But how easy is falafel -- soaked properly, you don't have to cook the legumes at all! Just chuck everything in the food processer, make little patties and fry 'em up. Easy and DELISH!

Brown Rice:

What doesn't go with brown rice? Here's my favorite rice recipe: Put a little butter/oil in a your favorite rice-cookin' pot. Crack open 3-4 cardamom pods and toss the seeds in. Add 2 cups of WHOLE GRAIN BROWN rice (basmati, long grain - who cares? It's all yummy!). Stir it up for a few seconds, then add 1 can of whole coconut milk (Best brand I've found: Thai Kitchen. So much great cream on top! That's the good stuff!) Add water or broth to equal 4 cups total liquid. (Usually I just put in another can full of liquid plus a little bit. Then the can is ready to go into recycling. =) Bring to a boil, stir, cover, and simmer for about 30-40 minutes. Tip: Eat this for breakfast with some maple syrup. No joke - so good!

Almonds:

FALL MUFFIN RECIPE. Chuck 1.5 cups of pecans and 1 cup of blanched slivered almonds in the food processor. Process until you get a moist, fine consistency - but not so much that you make butter. Add: 1/4 cup pumpkin (organic from a can works for us), Almost-1/2-cup honey, 3 eggs, 1/4 tsp baking soda, and 1/8 tsp salt. Chuck in some organic cocoa powder. Crank the machine up and let it go until you get a consistent batter. Fill muffin liners/cups 4/5ths full, and bake at 375 F for 15-20 minutes (until you can push in lightly on the top of one, and it springs back up.) "Dat's Nommy!" exclaims my daughter ;)

I make these muffins, or variations on them, 1 - 2 times a week to keep my family in supply. They are GREAT with a cup of morning coffee, or as an afternoon must-eat-before-dinner snack.

I've recently cooked up mung beans too, but haven't found a stellar recipe for them yet. I'll share it when I do!

Silence in the Library

2011-09-05T20:32:00.000-07:00

pic stolen from
www.eastdunbarton.gov.uk

I've been very quiet in this space for much of this summertime. It has not been for lack of something to say.

Rather, my gears have been working hard, I've been changing, shifting, seeing what feels new and what's old and has to go. My thoughts and feeling have either been too fluid to blog about, or too unfinished in their machinations. I'm still very much unfinished with this round of emotional/spiritual movement.

So like any good Library-goer, I've kept quietly to myself, while my head is fully delved into the mental matters at hand. Or not at hand -- I'm not actually holding any book. I'm just sitting, thinking, dreaming, planning, wondering, deciding, choosing.

...We've also been watching quite a lot of Doctor Who this summer, so "Silence in the Library" is on the tip of my brain. LOVE that episode. ;)

More to come soon. I'm starting to come out the other side of my summer's reverie. I can feel the shifting winds of Fall, the approaching energy of change. I've always loved the Fall!

"Adrift" on a Pendulum of My Own Making

2011-07-24T13:25:00.000-07:00

Here's another brief update on my crazy path to... well, not to enlightenment, because if I did that, I'd have to die or become a famous recluse or something and that's not what I want in this life LOL!

So yes.... the recent road has been a rocky one. I've determined that for me, learning and re-learning my own spiritual/emotional/egotistical truths is like swinging on a giant pendulum. You get some momentum going in one direction... and next thing you know, you're so far off the bandwagon you can't even remember where you left it!

During this morning's service at UoLC, I gave that pendulum a bit of thought. It's always been there, always thwarting me (as if "thwart" is the right word, as it's part of me and therefore neutral on its own -- I make it the enemy.) I have a hard time with consistency and process. Regular meditation, or really, regular Anything, just doesn't work unless I'm threatened with a failing grade or loss of income (haha!) I am not a consistent, regular person, and this makes the swing of the pendulum that much more powerful.

....However, if the analogy of the pendulum is true, then that means that I spend as much time on the enlightened side as the "hell in a handbasket" side. But... I know that I've spent much more time of my life on the not-meditating, not-taking-care-of-my-spiritual-needs-dutifully side. And yet, I've come so far! Which leads me to conclude that The Enlightened Side of the Pendulum Is Far More Powerful Than the Ego-Driven Side. It means that -- although I may have swung only a slight way into the light, I then find myself FLUNG deep into the side of the grey*-and-muddled, the opaque fog of the ego's separation.

That realization, however, give me great hope. It means that I don't HAVE to venture far into the side of light to minimize the grey in my life. I can stay close to the center of gravity; a little to the light more than makes up for a little on the opaque side. I don't have to be über-vigilant, like some yogi meditating for hours on end, or facing East at the same time everyday in obedience to... well, to myself, to my own spiritual quest for fullness.

....But a little well-spent time here and there, as I can manage it -- that is fit to keep my vision clear and light the way!

*One word I was taught British-spelling as a small child in an American school, and which I refuse to write with American spelling. The "e" is so much more dignified, befitting such a complex color.

I Decide

2011-07-16T19:24:00.000-07:00

"When in doubt, Ground & Fill"

I need to remember those words much more often, and practice them.

My internal landscape is markedly different than it was a week ago. So much of me is still the same, but I've shifted enough to start turning the tide. That's pretty awesome! But it also means that when I look at last Saturday's post... WOW that seems old school. And embarrassing. So long ago.

When I look at my thoughts about it, I stop on the word "embarrassing" -- ding ding! alarm bells -- That's my core issue, isn't it? Reappearing? Despite all my work, here is evidence of how far I have to go. A squirrel cage staring me right in the face.

Fortunately, I know how to get out of the cage now. I just have to remember to do it, to choose it, frequently.

...And, there's still that thing about disliking the sound of my own voice. I heard it echoed back to me on an International VoIP call yesterday, thanks to the delay. My voice is sooooo much prettier in my head! Clearer, crisper, it sounds more educated, smoother without being so... I dunno... I don't like a quality that my speaking voice has. Nasal perhaps. I have the same local accent that I hear in other women that I don't like. It's so earthy and mundane. Bleh.

Last week, my voice was part of my identity. This week, it's not. I'm not sure I can explain it yet - what exactly has changed in me - but I now can see with eyes wide open how my body is just a vessel, I should love and honor it, and how it looks or sounds or behaves is really not remotely important, except in that it's amazing. Because we are all, each of us, amazing. (I'll go into that another day.)

When I heard my voice yesterday, I did indeed find that I dislike it. But I didn't take it personally. Whoa, big change! I perceive that my accent is a product of where I grew up, and my tone quality is a product of genetics (the shape of my vocal chords, mouth and related internal structures). And therefore, it's entirely unique to me. While I can't help that I don't like is aesthetically, I can accept that it represents aspects of my life that I really love, namely: Being a true Northern Virginian (Arlington baby! The 7-0-3! LOL) and being a person with a very distinctive voice best suited to singing rather than talking.

You Decide
This is the title of my current favorite song. It's one of those songs I want everyone to listen to -- we all have those songs! We want to share them with the whole world! I Love this song. It's so '90s alt-rock, soft-indie-rock lovely, and lyrically profound. Fortunately, anyone can listen to it on MySpace.

This page has posted the lyrics. I encourage you to pop over and give them a quick skim at the least. I can now feel how true the words are, I now choose to decide!

So Afraid of the Sun

2011-07-14T08:05:00.000-07:00

So very much has happened in the last few days, that in the few minutes of time I have right now, I wouldn't know where to begin.

With the amazing support of my amazing life partner, with whom I chose to be with everyday, I have taken some big steps in my journey. Explanations will have to come later. I'm still processing, and it will be a book to write it all down.

I understand now why these are my favorite words of great literature. For the past 30 years, I've played my part well - too well! Hid myself from myself! And warped it, and turned it inside out, so noone would dare believe these words could apply to me. But twist them and they do. Now... it's time to make some big changes in my internal landscape.

Henry IV Part I Act I Scene 2:

Henry V. I know you all, and will awhile uphold
The unyoked humour of your idleness:
Yet herein will I imitate the sun, 300
Who doth permit the base contagious clouds
To smother up his beauty from the world,
That, when he please again to be himself,
Being wanted, he may be more wonder'd at,
By breaking through the foul and ugly mists 305
Of vapours that did seem to strangle him.
If all the year were playing holidays,
To sport would be as tedious as to work;
But when they seldom come, they wish'd for come,
And nothing pleaseth but rare accidents. 310
So, when this loose behavior I throw off
And pay the debt I never promised,
By how much better than my word I am,
By so much shall I falsify men's hopes;
And like bright metal on a sullen ground, 315
My reformation, glittering o'er my fault,
Shall show more goodly and attract more eyes
Than that which hath no foil to set it off.
I'll so offend, to make offence a skill;
Redeeming time when men think least I will.

Turning Points

2011-07-09T18:00:00.000-07:00

I hate hearing the sound of my own voice. Pretty much always have... well, that's not true. There was a time when it delighted me. A time when I reveled in the technological power of being able to hit RECORD and PLAY on my cassette player simultaneously... and replay it later.

But the days of the mock radio shows and the first two songs I ever wrote ("Swim Like a Mermaid" and "Lazy Smurf") were short-lived. Somewhere in there, I learned to dread the sound of my own vocal chords vibrating. Yet despite this, I still managed to get a degree in Vocal Music Performance.

Listening to my own voice.... Why why why does it shame me so?

Likewise, as I've mentioned here before, I hate confrontation. Yet despite a distinct aversion to it, I managed to be able to stick up for myself -- through physical means if absolutely necessary -- up until my Freshman year in high school. And then, rather suddenly, I couldn't anymore.

These two must occurrences must be related.

Volleyball and Vocals
My freshman year in high school, my family moved to a very small town in Virginia, some miles outside a populace 2-stoplight town. Having spent several years roaming the corridors of Ballston, which was across the street from our apartment, the move was a major adjustment. (Let's just say that I am qualified to write a book on the subject of culture shock, and leave it at that.)

I'd spent the prior few years in middle school feeling constant humiliation. Plus my one saving grace - my voice - never seemed quite good enough. I made it into the special girl's show choir, but was never one of the stars of the group. I auditioned for regional chorus and didn't make it. That was a sad, sad day, and shocked my chorus teacher as much as me.

Starting high school in a new town gave me a kind of new freedom. None of these people knew me! I could start again. And I Did, Full Out. By the end of the year I was one of the top students in my class, taking multiple honors courses, had been a starter on the JV Volleyball team with a great career ahead of me, and I was one of the school's premier singers. Yep, that's right -- as a freshman, I was in the school's most elite vocal group, and that group was the JOY of my existence. I mean, I got to dance with Craig and Paul! One was the basketball star (NICEST guy, loved him) and the other -- oh how I crushed on him! He was SO sweet, kind, thoughtful, and CUTE. I wished I was partnered with him more frequently, but there's only so much you can do in a performing group when one boy and one girl (me) are quite a bit taller than the others.

Looking back on it now... it was a teenage girl's heaven. It's true, I was stuck in the middle of effing nowhere, hardly any friends, a DC city girl often ostracized by Southerners and rednecks, but I knew I was going somewhere. That year I also took 2nd place in the school science fair, and I won the school-motto competition. (Only, no one knows that I did. The Brothers-H "won" and got all the attention, then later it was determined that they cheated, and as second place, I then "won" be default. It was all very hush-hush, and like I said, I doubt anyone really knew. The Brothers-H were big names in that there school, practically untouchable, and hence, they were both pricks.) Yeah, so there was nowhere for me to go but UP. That is, until we moved back to Ballston.

...With the exception of my sports career. It started out AWESOME. I came on the team as a freshman starter, usurping a spot from one of the older girls. The coach encouraged me to ignore this girls threats -- she was quite mean to me. But I was the better player.

The girl even started stealing things from my gym locker, or destroying my classwork - whatever she or her friends could do. But I was only able to catch her once, so nothing could be done about it. I had no recourse, no way to protect myself from the constant harassment.

As the school year progressed, our team got really good. We went to District Championships. We lost the final game, but it was AMAZING nonetheless! We were going to states! Only, just then, we moved back to Ballston.

However, there's more to this story. By the end there, I was no longer the regular starter in my position. In fact, I had pretty much lost all my outward aggression. It was no longer within me to run at the net, jump and slam the ball down into someone's face. Nor was I able to take a slam to the face with any sort of grace. I'd become afraid of the ball, and afraid of physical aggression in general.

And yet, just months before, I had kicked the shins of the boy who was harassing my friend and I. Less than a year later, I was incapable of such an act. I was incapable of defending myself at all.

Why?

By the time I got back to Arlington at the end of my freshman year, sports were nearly out of the question. Too much confrontation. But I still had my voice! I KNEW I was good now, I'd had my fresh start!

My guidance counselor put me into the Advanced Choir. It's where I belonged, wasn't it? I was coming out of the elite group in one school, and moving into the advanced group in another (obviously I couldn't be put straight into Madrigals). Made sense to me.

For two days, I was accosted by my classmates -- "What are you doing here? Wait, what grade are you? You're not supposed to be here!" Yet the music was straight-forward and beautiful. I had no problem catching up with the new music. I could already sight-read well enough to easily keep up. However -- My counselor had messed up. Freshmen weren't ALLOWED in Advanced choir. After two days, I was moved to the Regular Choir.

With apologies to any friend who were in choir with me back in the day - Regular Choir was like a slap in the face. The music was juvenile, half the students were juveniles, and the other half couldn't speak *English. Thus began three YEARS of torment and torture at the hands of the music department and the teacher's pets of the music department. I still have trouble grappling with my anger and resentments misplaced there. I had a terrible experience - and yet, screw them, I STILL got a degree in music (that I haven't done squat with). Rawr.

But I'm still at a loss as to WHY I can't stand the sound of my voice or WHY I decided to shun all forms of physical aggression. I KNOW I can sing. I KNEW I could kick ASS on the Volleyball court. Why take that away from myself? What is it about the timing of these occurrences? And why are they related, as I instinctively feel that they are?

Sigh.

*I highly respect the school's ESOL program for putting students in choir. Singing a new language is a fabulous way to learn to pronounce it.