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-kel.
06 October 2010
23 August 2010
i can't get enough of this song.
then i saw the video.
it's like something just illuminates spontaneously.
you watch it, and you feel it.
we all feel it.
we all want it.
to be in love, to frolic, to flirt, to play, to adventure.
i am thankful for moments as these.
M83-We Own the Sky
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Bzge5vY72hE
then i saw the video.
it's like something just illuminates spontaneously.
you watch it, and you feel it.
we all feel it.
we all want it.
to be in love, to frolic, to flirt, to play, to adventure.
i am thankful for moments as these.
M83-We Own the Sky
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Bzge5vY72hE
07 August 2010
some days the chips seem to fall effortlessly into place. some days they seem to shatter as they hit the ground.
some days, when they fall oh so effortlessly, it's when kelly clarkson's miss independent gets played in savasana.
some days, when they shatter, it's when kelly clarkson's miss independent gets played in savasana.
so what's the difference?
ME.
I fall effortlessly into allowing. i rest. i breathe. i *attempt* humility.
on those other days i resist every single thing that i come across. i push. i pull. i fight. i am proud.
wish i could say i am the former more often. i am not. BUT, for the first time ever, i see both. i see the gift that they each are when observed and witnessed.
and seeing has made all the difference.
what do you see today?
some days, when they fall oh so effortlessly, it's when kelly clarkson's miss independent gets played in savasana.
some days, when they shatter, it's when kelly clarkson's miss independent gets played in savasana.
so what's the difference?
ME.
I fall effortlessly into allowing. i rest. i breathe. i *attempt* humility.
on those other days i resist every single thing that i come across. i push. i pull. i fight. i am proud.
wish i could say i am the former more often. i am not. BUT, for the first time ever, i see both. i see the gift that they each are when observed and witnessed.
and seeing has made all the difference.
what do you see today?
24 July 2010
Oh ghee-z!
Since i always seem to make ghee in small, bowl-of-oatmeal sized batches, i finally thought it best to make enough to use daily. while not the most elite of butters, costco does sell 1lb slabs of unsalted butter fairly cheap. since i seem to have so much butter lying around, why not make one of those slabs into sweet, delicious ghee.
a little background on ghee, also known as clarified butter. in ayurvedic cooking and philosophy, ghee is medicinal. it is said to ignite the fire (Agni) of digestion when taken early in the morning. it is especially good in a hot bowl of steel cut oats.
ghee is also useful in treating cuts and burns, moisturizing the skin and adding to your favorite bath scent for a luxurious experience.
the other great part: lactose free! lactose, the sugar in milk, is part of the solid that rises in the process of making ghee. you are left with milk fat.
who knew butter could be SO good?!
ghee is very simple to make and store for use in all your daily butter needs.
of course, the higher quality of butter (organic, raw butter would work nicely), the better your outcome.
to make ghee:
• use a heavy pot, preferably stainless steel (i used my cast iron one, but i think it got too hot). bring butter to a boil, and then reduce heat to VERY low. as it simmers, the milk solids will begin to rise to the top.
• i keep a bowl to the side and use a large, clean spoon to begin scraping the solids off the top, placing them in the bowl.
this may take time, and it may be good to let the butter sit for a while as solids rise. i made the mistake of allowing the heat to stay higher, browning my ghee a bit. it's not bad, but it give a nuttier flavor.
• once the solids have been removed, pour the ghee through a cheesecloth (or paper towel) into your storing vessel. this will remove any solids that have gone to the bottom, leaving you with liquid gold.
• store in an airtight container, preferably at room temperature as not to allow condensation to develop in the container. i used a 16 oz. mason jar. LET IT COOL BEFORE YOU SEAL.
now, i wouldn't write a whole post on ghee if i wasn't planning on using this amazing product. no, no, no. as i said, i've used it in oatmeal, but have yet to explore more ornate dishes. i really wanted to bake with my daughter and niece, using my fresh-made ghee, but wasn't sure how it would react in a baking environment.
i had some blackberries that i froze last month, and thought i'd try it out in a simple blackberry cobbler.
not bad!
Ghee-licious blackberry cobbler
Serves 6-8
For "filling":
• about 2 cups of fresh or thawed blackberries, drained completely if frozen
• 1/2 cup of sugar, or sugar substitute of your choice (to taste...i used very little sugar)
For crust:
• 1 cup of flour
• 2 tsp. of baking powder
• 3/4-1 cup of milk
• 1/2 tsp of salt
• 1/2 cup of ghee
• 1 tsp of ground cinnamon
Begin by letting sugar and blackberries marinate for 15-20 minutes. This should warrant delicious, sweet blackberries with a syrupy liquid.
While that sits, preheat oven to 350.
Add flour, salt, baking powder and cinnamon to a bowl, mixing just to combine. Add milk slowly. You may find you need less or more milk. At this point the dough should be slightly sticky, not dry, like a pie crust. Add in the ghee and stir to incorporate. This dough is infectiously delicious. Butter, buttery.
Spread about 2/3 of this dough on the bottom of an 8-inch round or square baking dish. I used round and it was great.
Pour all of the blackberry mixture on top. Add the remaining dough on top, lightly spreading it. Alternately, you could put ALL the dough on the bottom, or the top. It's all going to ooze the same way :)
Place in 350 oven for about 30 minutes. Check that dough is cooked through. It will be moist, almost like a cake, rather than a crust. It doesn't look super cooked, but your mouth will tell you differently.
Like any other cobbler, this is best served warm. I had it without garnish, but fresh whipped cream would have been delicious!
i love the texture the ghee gives this. i'm used to a more crumbly cobbler or crisp type dessert, but love the cake-iness of this version. while not exactly figure friendly, it's a much better option than the traditional sugar-infused, buttery desserts.
Enjoy!
Since i always seem to make ghee in small, bowl-of-oatmeal sized batches, i finally thought it best to make enough to use daily. while not the most elite of butters, costco does sell 1lb slabs of unsalted butter fairly cheap. since i seem to have so much butter lying around, why not make one of those slabs into sweet, delicious ghee.
a little background on ghee, also known as clarified butter. in ayurvedic cooking and philosophy, ghee is medicinal. it is said to ignite the fire (Agni) of digestion when taken early in the morning. it is especially good in a hot bowl of steel cut oats.
ghee is also useful in treating cuts and burns, moisturizing the skin and adding to your favorite bath scent for a luxurious experience.
the other great part: lactose free! lactose, the sugar in milk, is part of the solid that rises in the process of making ghee. you are left with milk fat.
who knew butter could be SO good?!
ghee is very simple to make and store for use in all your daily butter needs.
of course, the higher quality of butter (organic, raw butter would work nicely), the better your outcome.
to make ghee:
• use a heavy pot, preferably stainless steel (i used my cast iron one, but i think it got too hot). bring butter to a boil, and then reduce heat to VERY low. as it simmers, the milk solids will begin to rise to the top.
• i keep a bowl to the side and use a large, clean spoon to begin scraping the solids off the top, placing them in the bowl.
this may take time, and it may be good to let the butter sit for a while as solids rise. i made the mistake of allowing the heat to stay higher, browning my ghee a bit. it's not bad, but it give a nuttier flavor.
• once the solids have been removed, pour the ghee through a cheesecloth (or paper towel) into your storing vessel. this will remove any solids that have gone to the bottom, leaving you with liquid gold.
• store in an airtight container, preferably at room temperature as not to allow condensation to develop in the container. i used a 16 oz. mason jar. LET IT COOL BEFORE YOU SEAL.
now, i wouldn't write a whole post on ghee if i wasn't planning on using this amazing product. no, no, no. as i said, i've used it in oatmeal, but have yet to explore more ornate dishes. i really wanted to bake with my daughter and niece, using my fresh-made ghee, but wasn't sure how it would react in a baking environment.
i had some blackberries that i froze last month, and thought i'd try it out in a simple blackberry cobbler.
not bad!
Ghee-licious blackberry cobbler
Serves 6-8
For "filling":
• about 2 cups of fresh or thawed blackberries, drained completely if frozen
• 1/2 cup of sugar, or sugar substitute of your choice (to taste...i used very little sugar)
For crust:
• 1 cup of flour
• 2 tsp. of baking powder
• 3/4-1 cup of milk
• 1/2 tsp of salt
• 1/2 cup of ghee
• 1 tsp of ground cinnamon
Begin by letting sugar and blackberries marinate for 15-20 minutes. This should warrant delicious, sweet blackberries with a syrupy liquid.
While that sits, preheat oven to 350.
Add flour, salt, baking powder and cinnamon to a bowl, mixing just to combine. Add milk slowly. You may find you need less or more milk. At this point the dough should be slightly sticky, not dry, like a pie crust. Add in the ghee and stir to incorporate. This dough is infectiously delicious. Butter, buttery.
Spread about 2/3 of this dough on the bottom of an 8-inch round or square baking dish. I used round and it was great.
Pour all of the blackberry mixture on top. Add the remaining dough on top, lightly spreading it. Alternately, you could put ALL the dough on the bottom, or the top. It's all going to ooze the same way :)
Place in 350 oven for about 30 minutes. Check that dough is cooked through. It will be moist, almost like a cake, rather than a crust. It doesn't look super cooked, but your mouth will tell you differently.
Like any other cobbler, this is best served warm. I had it without garnish, but fresh whipped cream would have been delicious!
i love the texture the ghee gives this. i'm used to a more crumbly cobbler or crisp type dessert, but love the cake-iness of this version. while not exactly figure friendly, it's a much better option than the traditional sugar-infused, buttery desserts.
Enjoy!
22 July 2010
as i age, like a fine wine or delectable cheese, i get better. and part of that getting "better" is that i love food. hence the feeble attempt at a food metaphor.
amongst other, more pressing hobbies and passions is the innate Foodie deep within. i scan food blogs, food network, chow and keep tabs on various food happenings around my area. my heaven is a farmer's market filled with the seductive sounds of bluegrass music, laughter and the undeniable crunch of all things delicious. had i the time, i would literally spend all day in the kitchen. if you've been to my house, you know my kitchen isn't exactly that of a gourmet chef. then again, a chef i am not. but a novice home cook, sauce inventor and recipe concocter i AM!
the most recent endeavor: vegetarianism. oddly enough, it's not me that prompted this somewhat radical change. for me, it wouldn't have been too radical. but for my husband, it is. i came home one night after he watched some documentary on the way meat is processed and that was it. since i'm not super excitable when it comes to meat, i happily obliged to trying out this new way. too bad i had just purchased our carnivorous stock the day before he told me this. ah well. meat for sale!
while this certainly presents some new challenges and adjustments, i welcome it all. i have been eating healthier, lighter and found that i have lost my often insatiable desire to eat all things sweet. don't get me wrong...i'll still eat chocolate cake with the best of 'em, but maybe only one piece...not two, or three.
as i mentioned above, i love doing food research. every empty plate is like a blank canvas longing to be filled with unique colors, textures and flavors. i want to know how i can fill it. i have found some new sites catering to us fledgling vegis and enjoy the poshness of it all. i love a challenge. creating tasty, healthy food without meat is a new challenge.
tonight's meal was a complete invention. i saw guy fieri making mashed cauliflower on his show, and it gave me an idea. i wanted the lusciousness of mashed potatoes sans the starchy carb-load. i love the linear structure of asparagus spears, paired with the fluffy goodness of the whipped cauliflower. BUT, i thought, i need protein. well, tofu it is...the 'ol standby. by marinating and searing it, i created a nice, rustic crust to compliment the green and white. and to bring a little more nuttiness and texture, i sprinkled the dish with chopped almonds.
the recipe as follows:
Ginger mashed cauliflower, with sesame glazed tofu and asparagus
Feeds about 3
Ingredients:
1 bunch of asparagus, bottoms removed
2 cups of cubed tofu
2 small heads of cauliflower, cut into florets
1 Tbsp. Olive oil
1 tsp. of ground ginger
2 oz. of milk (cream or half-and-half to make it richer, soy for non-dairy)
2 oz. of chicken or vegi stock
Your favorite teriyaki or Asian marinade (I made my own that I will try to remember here-see below)
salt and pepper to taste
Start by roasting your cauliflower florets. Spread them evenly on a cookie sheet and drizzle your O.O. on top. Add a bit of S & P. Toss to coat and place in 375 oven for about half an hour. Ovens vary so check to make sure they are fork tender. They should begin to get a nice brownish color on the tops.
While they are toastin' away, prep your vegis. After removing the woody ends of asparagus, marinate in teriyaki sauce for 15 minutes or so. Do the same with the tofu, but in a separate bowl.
My sauce recipe (the estimated version):
1 tsp. of minced, fresh ginger
1 tsp. sesame oil
1 tsp. soy sauce
1 tsp. honey
couple TBSP of rice vinegar
Combine, stir and taste. Adjust as needed. Should be sweet and salty, with a little Asian flare. Not syrupy.
So, get a good pan, preferably non-stick, HOT. When the pan is sizzling, add a tablespoon of vegetable oil and immediately add the asparagus, being careful to let the marinade drip off before adding to pan. You may have to do this in batches as not to over crowd the pan. Cook for a few minutes until asparagus is just slightly tender. Al dente, I guess. To the tooth.
Using the same pan, add another tablespoon of vegetable oil and add the tofu. Let them sit for a couple minutes to form a nice crust. If you remove to quickly, they will stick...Kind of like chicken.
About this time, your cauliflower should be ready. Let it cool for a few minutes. Grab yer blender. Add the milk, stock and ground ginger, along with half your cauliflower. Blend until smooth then add the rest of the cauliflower, adding salt and pepper to taste. They should have the same consistency as mashed potatoes, with a little bit of kick from the ginger!
To plate, i made a bed out of the mash, sprinkled some asparagus spears on top, tofu and chopped almonds. The almonds make this! Enjoy!
as you can see, i am a mixer. i am horrible at a couple things in life, but they're not that big of a deal: remembering street names, but recognizing everything by sight, and measuring ingredients, but creating yummy dishes by taste. so, here's to experimenting, getting lost, but always finding your way.
amongst other, more pressing hobbies and passions is the innate Foodie deep within. i scan food blogs, food network, chow and keep tabs on various food happenings around my area. my heaven is a farmer's market filled with the seductive sounds of bluegrass music, laughter and the undeniable crunch of all things delicious. had i the time, i would literally spend all day in the kitchen. if you've been to my house, you know my kitchen isn't exactly that of a gourmet chef. then again, a chef i am not. but a novice home cook, sauce inventor and recipe concocter i AM!
the most recent endeavor: vegetarianism. oddly enough, it's not me that prompted this somewhat radical change. for me, it wouldn't have been too radical. but for my husband, it is. i came home one night after he watched some documentary on the way meat is processed and that was it. since i'm not super excitable when it comes to meat, i happily obliged to trying out this new way. too bad i had just purchased our carnivorous stock the day before he told me this. ah well. meat for sale!
while this certainly presents some new challenges and adjustments, i welcome it all. i have been eating healthier, lighter and found that i have lost my often insatiable desire to eat all things sweet. don't get me wrong...i'll still eat chocolate cake with the best of 'em, but maybe only one piece...not two, or three.
as i mentioned above, i love doing food research. every empty plate is like a blank canvas longing to be filled with unique colors, textures and flavors. i want to know how i can fill it. i have found some new sites catering to us fledgling vegis and enjoy the poshness of it all. i love a challenge. creating tasty, healthy food without meat is a new challenge.
tonight's meal was a complete invention. i saw guy fieri making mashed cauliflower on his show, and it gave me an idea. i wanted the lusciousness of mashed potatoes sans the starchy carb-load. i love the linear structure of asparagus spears, paired with the fluffy goodness of the whipped cauliflower. BUT, i thought, i need protein. well, tofu it is...the 'ol standby. by marinating and searing it, i created a nice, rustic crust to compliment the green and white. and to bring a little more nuttiness and texture, i sprinkled the dish with chopped almonds.
the recipe as follows:
Ginger mashed cauliflower, with sesame glazed tofu and asparagus
Feeds about 3
Ingredients:
1 bunch of asparagus, bottoms removed
2 cups of cubed tofu
2 small heads of cauliflower, cut into florets
1 Tbsp. Olive oil
1 tsp. of ground ginger
2 oz. of milk (cream or half-and-half to make it richer, soy for non-dairy)
2 oz. of chicken or vegi stock
Your favorite teriyaki or Asian marinade (I made my own that I will try to remember here-see below)
salt and pepper to taste
Start by roasting your cauliflower florets. Spread them evenly on a cookie sheet and drizzle your O.O. on top. Add a bit of S & P. Toss to coat and place in 375 oven for about half an hour. Ovens vary so check to make sure they are fork tender. They should begin to get a nice brownish color on the tops.
While they are toastin' away, prep your vegis. After removing the woody ends of asparagus, marinate in teriyaki sauce for 15 minutes or so. Do the same with the tofu, but in a separate bowl.
My sauce recipe (the estimated version):
1 tsp. of minced, fresh ginger
1 tsp. sesame oil
1 tsp. soy sauce
1 tsp. honey
couple TBSP of rice vinegar
Combine, stir and taste. Adjust as needed. Should be sweet and salty, with a little Asian flare. Not syrupy.
So, get a good pan, preferably non-stick, HOT. When the pan is sizzling, add a tablespoon of vegetable oil and immediately add the asparagus, being careful to let the marinade drip off before adding to pan. You may have to do this in batches as not to over crowd the pan. Cook for a few minutes until asparagus is just slightly tender. Al dente, I guess. To the tooth.
Using the same pan, add another tablespoon of vegetable oil and add the tofu. Let them sit for a couple minutes to form a nice crust. If you remove to quickly, they will stick...Kind of like chicken.
About this time, your cauliflower should be ready. Let it cool for a few minutes. Grab yer blender. Add the milk, stock and ground ginger, along with half your cauliflower. Blend until smooth then add the rest of the cauliflower, adding salt and pepper to taste. They should have the same consistency as mashed potatoes, with a little bit of kick from the ginger!
To plate, i made a bed out of the mash, sprinkled some asparagus spears on top, tofu and chopped almonds. The almonds make this! Enjoy!
as you can see, i am a mixer. i am horrible at a couple things in life, but they're not that big of a deal: remembering street names, but recognizing everything by sight, and measuring ingredients, but creating yummy dishes by taste. so, here's to experimenting, getting lost, but always finding your way.
02 July 2010
today, we finally went to the SD County Fair, after 5 years of living here. In the past, it just seemed like so much work with a VERY active kid or baby. This year, when we received tickets from our spritely 90 year-old neighbor, juanita, we HAD to go. chloe is nearly 4, and tall enough to go on many rides by herself.
of course, the fair means many things to many people. to most, it usually connotes vomit-inducing rides followed by insane amounts of deep-fried foods (deep-fried butter? what's the point?) and the stale, pungent air of the livestock exhibits. for me, it means lots of stomach-dropping, spinning and whiplashing rides...which i thoroughly enjoy. even at 30.
there is one called the silver streak. really, it's just a series of small roller coaster cars in a hilly circle that go around really fast. then they go backwards...really fast. the ride is about 3 minutes longer than necessary, if not for the weak stomached, at least for the weak necked. but, i wanted to do it. i love to spin and so does my girl. she loves adventure. jared, well, let's just say he can't do the ferris wheel.
i took our Flip video camera on the ride and what a treat! chloe's laughter filled the entire ride with an infectious cackle that can only come from an exuberant and happy kid. i could watch it over and over just to hear her laugh. if i could make that my ringtone, my alarm tone and greeting as i turned on my laptop, it would be amazing.
there was a moment when she rode the mini-roller coaster for the first time by herself that nearly had me in tears. really, there was no monumental thing happening. just a moment where i was watching her, independent and happy, glowing in the midday sunshine with her hair blowing back, listening to the cyclical giggles as she whizzed by, that i just felt nothing but joy. i knew, instantly, why people have children. jared was by my side. we hugged and he said, "This is the way 4th of july is supposed to be." i quietly agreed as we watched our baby fearlessly roll.
of course, the fair means many things to many people. to most, it usually connotes vomit-inducing rides followed by insane amounts of deep-fried foods (deep-fried butter? what's the point?) and the stale, pungent air of the livestock exhibits. for me, it means lots of stomach-dropping, spinning and whiplashing rides...which i thoroughly enjoy. even at 30.
there is one called the silver streak. really, it's just a series of small roller coaster cars in a hilly circle that go around really fast. then they go backwards...really fast. the ride is about 3 minutes longer than necessary, if not for the weak stomached, at least for the weak necked. but, i wanted to do it. i love to spin and so does my girl. she loves adventure. jared, well, let's just say he can't do the ferris wheel.
i took our Flip video camera on the ride and what a treat! chloe's laughter filled the entire ride with an infectious cackle that can only come from an exuberant and happy kid. i could watch it over and over just to hear her laugh. if i could make that my ringtone, my alarm tone and greeting as i turned on my laptop, it would be amazing.
there was a moment when she rode the mini-roller coaster for the first time by herself that nearly had me in tears. really, there was no monumental thing happening. just a moment where i was watching her, independent and happy, glowing in the midday sunshine with her hair blowing back, listening to the cyclical giggles as she whizzed by, that i just felt nothing but joy. i knew, instantly, why people have children. jared was by my side. we hugged and he said, "This is the way 4th of july is supposed to be." i quietly agreed as we watched our baby fearlessly roll.
29 June 2010
one of my great joys in life is food. as a self-professing foodie, i particularly indulge in sweets...rich, complicated flavors swirling together in one delicious concoction of dessert bliss.
i often wonder if i should have taken a different path, one that i liked when i was very young: the path to being a chef and restaurant owner. but, had i NOT taken the path i have, i doubt that i would have the appreciation i do for food. being the homemaker, responsible for shopping and preparing healthy, creative meals for my family, i take great pride in experimenting, mixing, tasting and plating everything i make. it truly is an outlet.
as a part of my love for food, i try to bring chloe in the kitchen with me every time i cook, allowing her to mix, taste and experiment on her own. she doesn't always love the main dish preparation, but she LOVES baking. who doesn't? licking gooey batter off of a spatula? YUM! normally we cook on fridays, but we are heading to the SD county fair this week, so we baked this morning. i didn't have the ingredients for oatmeal or chocolate chip cookies, but i did have stuff to make a delicious vegan, almost raw frosting: avocado, coconut oil, agave nectar and cocoa powder. so, the cookies are full fat, full of animal bi-products, and fully delicious. i have come to enjoy the rich flavors of the plant-based frosting much more than those using butter as a base, so here ya go!
the other thing about food: i love to take pictures of it. two of my loves, food and photography, whirled into one! so, for visual interest, we picked some fresh lavender from our yard as a garnish.
thanks to chloe, my sous chef, for her discriminating palate.
i often wonder if i should have taken a different path, one that i liked when i was very young: the path to being a chef and restaurant owner. but, had i NOT taken the path i have, i doubt that i would have the appreciation i do for food. being the homemaker, responsible for shopping and preparing healthy, creative meals for my family, i take great pride in experimenting, mixing, tasting and plating everything i make. it truly is an outlet.
as a part of my love for food, i try to bring chloe in the kitchen with me every time i cook, allowing her to mix, taste and experiment on her own. she doesn't always love the main dish preparation, but she LOVES baking. who doesn't? licking gooey batter off of a spatula? YUM! normally we cook on fridays, but we are heading to the SD county fair this week, so we baked this morning. i didn't have the ingredients for oatmeal or chocolate chip cookies, but i did have stuff to make a delicious vegan, almost raw frosting: avocado, coconut oil, agave nectar and cocoa powder. so, the cookies are full fat, full of animal bi-products, and fully delicious. i have come to enjoy the rich flavors of the plant-based frosting much more than those using butter as a base, so here ya go!
the other thing about food: i love to take pictures of it. two of my loves, food and photography, whirled into one! so, for visual interest, we picked some fresh lavender from our yard as a garnish.
thanks to chloe, my sous chef, for her discriminating palate.
02 June 2010
i feel like i have so much to say, and yet, what i want to say is all about being empty. not the bad kind empty, like you're hungry and lonely. but the kind of emptiness where you are stripped of everything that makes you comfortable, stripped away of your expectations and left with a massively beautiful void.
when you are finally stripped of all your facades, expectations and sapped of all emotion, all that can be left is utter peace. there's nothing left to mull over and consider. it's very spacey, or at least it is for me.
this happened to me for the first time today, ever. i was aware of the energy around me with a newfound keenness that i truly enjoyed. i wish that the emptiness could have been found without its precursor, but it was found nonetheless.
today, i will just be grateful for that.
have you ever felt happily empty?
when you are finally stripped of all your facades, expectations and sapped of all emotion, all that can be left is utter peace. there's nothing left to mull over and consider. it's very spacey, or at least it is for me.
this happened to me for the first time today, ever. i was aware of the energy around me with a newfound keenness that i truly enjoyed. i wish that the emptiness could have been found without its precursor, but it was found nonetheless.
today, i will just be grateful for that.
have you ever felt happily empty?
28 May 2010
for as long as i can remember, i have openly opposed the idea of being feminine. i proudly proclaim the fairer sex, but neglect its beauty.
i can remember specific times as a kid, when i would choose to be with the boys, make it a point to speak my independence and of course, NEVER carry a purse. i saw the purse as some sort of weakness-that you had to rely upon the trappings of endless beauty products and giant, overpriced handbags (or duffel bags) to prove your status and beauty to the world. obviously that is a bit of a misjudgment on my part.
as a high schooler, i rarely dated and quietly mocked the girly girls, gossiping about each other and shopping at the mall. i only went to one dance that was actually with a boyfriend. the only time i got asked was by guys that were friends, whose first choices said no. that sums it up in a nutshell.
i loved baseball. i loved music. i hated long, painted nails. i retreated at the very thought of showing that yes, indeed, i might need help.
and now, as an adult some of that still lingers. i still war with my womanly shadow about who will win out: the prideful, stubborn tomboy, or the delicate, demure and shall i say pretty woman. the thing is, no one needs to win. they are both there. they are both a part of my past, my present and my future. they are both formidable characters at the table of my life. they are sometimes rude to each other, nagging, incessant mockers. but they are me.
over the past few months, i have begun to see how much i resist the idea of femininity. like i said, i call myself a woman, but reject the adjective, or sometimes adverb, "womanly".
i think back to all the male friends i kept, and how little attention i got from men. i was quiet, shy and the antithesis of flirty. if a guy liked me, i wanted it to be because i was strong, confident and capable...not just because i had a nice ass and a cute face.
in turn, i got a few dates, but never allowed anyone to see me as needy.
when i was in vermont last month, this light bulb suddenly switched on. there is an innate resistance to expressing need; and not in the annoying, selfish way, but in a genuine, heartfelt way. it seemed burdensome. i was afraid of abandonment upon someone hearing that i needed something from them, and only them. and then, i would fulfill my own ill-fated prophecy by pushing them, being brute and passive aggressive, instead of honest and vulnerable.
being a woman feels so vulnerable at times. there seems to be an unspoken expectation that you are physically and emotionally more available and vulnerable than men. and within that, there are liberties taken against women that become unspeakable.
there is a part of me that wanted to avoid all the unspeakable parts of being a woman, meaning, i had to reject my femininity.
as i approach my 30th birthday, it has been illuminated that none of this has been working for me, or those around me. i have begun to walk on a path of full acceptance. i am learning to accept the curve of my hips, the stretch marks from having a beautiful child, the idea of wearing something pink, growing my nails and telling my husband i need him.
i have always feared that by doing those things i would get lumped in as just another one of 'those' girls. i saw myself as different, and i want(ed) other people to. but instead, in many cases, i just didn't get seen at all.
this afternoon, jared and i had the rare opportunity for a midday date. his idea: go see sex and the city 2. yes folks, he likes that show. i obliged. per usual, the movie was an extravagant narrative about rich, feisty women in the throws of midlife and romance in NYC. but the biggest message i received from it (maybe because of all this illumination in my own life) was the idea of women being recognized for who they are, what they do and how beautiful we are--all of us. it's a good reminder that i am special. it's a good reminder that it's ok to be a woman, and even take pride in it.
and with all that said, and all judgements aside, i was totally one of 'those' girls today: going to watch sex and the city on opening day with a giant popcorn and a diet pepsi. sometimes it just feels good to embrace the inner woman, eat junk and enjoy some Sex.
i can remember specific times as a kid, when i would choose to be with the boys, make it a point to speak my independence and of course, NEVER carry a purse. i saw the purse as some sort of weakness-that you had to rely upon the trappings of endless beauty products and giant, overpriced handbags (or duffel bags) to prove your status and beauty to the world. obviously that is a bit of a misjudgment on my part.
as a high schooler, i rarely dated and quietly mocked the girly girls, gossiping about each other and shopping at the mall. i only went to one dance that was actually with a boyfriend. the only time i got asked was by guys that were friends, whose first choices said no. that sums it up in a nutshell.
i loved baseball. i loved music. i hated long, painted nails. i retreated at the very thought of showing that yes, indeed, i might need help.
and now, as an adult some of that still lingers. i still war with my womanly shadow about who will win out: the prideful, stubborn tomboy, or the delicate, demure and shall i say pretty woman. the thing is, no one needs to win. they are both there. they are both a part of my past, my present and my future. they are both formidable characters at the table of my life. they are sometimes rude to each other, nagging, incessant mockers. but they are me.
over the past few months, i have begun to see how much i resist the idea of femininity. like i said, i call myself a woman, but reject the adjective, or sometimes adverb, "womanly".
i think back to all the male friends i kept, and how little attention i got from men. i was quiet, shy and the antithesis of flirty. if a guy liked me, i wanted it to be because i was strong, confident and capable...not just because i had a nice ass and a cute face.
in turn, i got a few dates, but never allowed anyone to see me as needy.
when i was in vermont last month, this light bulb suddenly switched on. there is an innate resistance to expressing need; and not in the annoying, selfish way, but in a genuine, heartfelt way. it seemed burdensome. i was afraid of abandonment upon someone hearing that i needed something from them, and only them. and then, i would fulfill my own ill-fated prophecy by pushing them, being brute and passive aggressive, instead of honest and vulnerable.
being a woman feels so vulnerable at times. there seems to be an unspoken expectation that you are physically and emotionally more available and vulnerable than men. and within that, there are liberties taken against women that become unspeakable.
there is a part of me that wanted to avoid all the unspeakable parts of being a woman, meaning, i had to reject my femininity.
as i approach my 30th birthday, it has been illuminated that none of this has been working for me, or those around me. i have begun to walk on a path of full acceptance. i am learning to accept the curve of my hips, the stretch marks from having a beautiful child, the idea of wearing something pink, growing my nails and telling my husband i need him.
i have always feared that by doing those things i would get lumped in as just another one of 'those' girls. i saw myself as different, and i want(ed) other people to. but instead, in many cases, i just didn't get seen at all.
this afternoon, jared and i had the rare opportunity for a midday date. his idea: go see sex and the city 2. yes folks, he likes that show. i obliged. per usual, the movie was an extravagant narrative about rich, feisty women in the throws of midlife and romance in NYC. but the biggest message i received from it (maybe because of all this illumination in my own life) was the idea of women being recognized for who they are, what they do and how beautiful we are--all of us. it's a good reminder that i am special. it's a good reminder that it's ok to be a woman, and even take pride in it.
and with all that said, and all judgements aside, i was totally one of 'those' girls today: going to watch sex and the city on opening day with a giant popcorn and a diet pepsi. sometimes it just feels good to embrace the inner woman, eat junk and enjoy some Sex.
15 April 2010
do you ever wonder, 'why do we go through all of this shit?'
of course you do. we all do.
if we could all be fortune tellers, if we could play God for a few moments and see the amazing treasures that come from trials, joys, fears, challenges, surprises and honesty, would we be happier? if we knew, for certain, that THIS moment, just THIS one, was producing a greater joy than we could ever imagine, would we relish in it just a bit more?
in recent days and weeks i have experienced pain, questioning, relief and vulnerability that shake the entire core of my being. i keep reminding myself there is a reason.
as i am learning to accept myself, i am accepting others. as i allow myself to be honest with myself, others are honest with me. as i choose to be a team with others, they choose to be a team with me. oh so long have i lived as an island, blending in with the pasty walls that my hardened shoulders leaned on. i have done it; no one else.
if it were not for the community of other broken hearts and lives coming together as one beautiful mess, i would suffer, i would wither and eventually my soul would suffer.
but this time i choose unity. this time i choose vulnerability. this time i choose honesty. this time i choose love. this time i choose grace, to have it and accept it.
it's nice to feel beautiful all over.
Where do you go little bird
When it snows, when it snows
When the world turns to sleep
Do you know, do you know
Is there something in the wind
Breathes a chill in your heart and life in your wings
Does it whisper 'start again'
Start again
Where is the sun in the night
Is it cold, is it cold
Does it feel left behind
All alone, all alone
Does it wander through the dark
Does it wait for the dawn, wish on a star
Does it stray very far
Very far
Where is your home restless wind
Is it there, is it here
Do you search for a place to belong
Search in vain, search in fear
Or is your spirit everywhere
Is your voice every tree
Your soul of the air
If there's no home is there no death
Is there no death
-the wailin' jennys
of course you do. we all do.
if we could all be fortune tellers, if we could play God for a few moments and see the amazing treasures that come from trials, joys, fears, challenges, surprises and honesty, would we be happier? if we knew, for certain, that THIS moment, just THIS one, was producing a greater joy than we could ever imagine, would we relish in it just a bit more?
in recent days and weeks i have experienced pain, questioning, relief and vulnerability that shake the entire core of my being. i keep reminding myself there is a reason.
as i am learning to accept myself, i am accepting others. as i allow myself to be honest with myself, others are honest with me. as i choose to be a team with others, they choose to be a team with me. oh so long have i lived as an island, blending in with the pasty walls that my hardened shoulders leaned on. i have done it; no one else.
if it were not for the community of other broken hearts and lives coming together as one beautiful mess, i would suffer, i would wither and eventually my soul would suffer.
but this time i choose unity. this time i choose vulnerability. this time i choose honesty. this time i choose love. this time i choose grace, to have it and accept it.
it's nice to feel beautiful all over.
Where do you go little bird
When it snows, when it snows
When the world turns to sleep
Do you know, do you know
Is there something in the wind
Breathes a chill in your heart and life in your wings
Does it whisper 'start again'
Start again
Where is the sun in the night
Is it cold, is it cold
Does it feel left behind
All alone, all alone
Does it wander through the dark
Does it wait for the dawn, wish on a star
Does it stray very far
Very far
Where is your home restless wind
Is it there, is it here
Do you search for a place to belong
Search in vain, search in fear
Or is your spirit everywhere
Is your voice every tree
Your soul of the air
If there's no home is there no death
Is there no death
-the wailin' jennys
08 April 2010
over the past few months, my life has taken some dramatic turns.
that's not why i am finally posting.
but in light of recent events, i have begun to think more intently about the way i have lived up until now.
in a phoenix rising yoga therapy session, we do an integration at the end, bringing everything we have learned, noticed, felt and breathed together. we observe it, how it serves or doesn't serve us in life, and then speak about it.
sometimes it helps to do a spontaneous integration randomly through the day. i did one earlier today during my weekly mentor phone call...and it feels somewhat appropriate right now. or maybe just part of it.
one of the things we ask is how the client, or i, live life day to day, and how those interest-piquing things show up, whether on a physical, mental, emotional or metaphysical level.
this past week has been one long realization that i do not stand up for myself. i choose to care take, even when it is something i desperately don't want to do. but it feels safe because that's what i have known. it does not serve me. it imprisons me.
yesterday i took a huge leap from denying what is good for me, to embracing it, even if i saw the hurt it caused someone else. in a sense, i have been a lifetime liar, protecting others while never protecting myself.
so today, i see that. i acknowledge it. do i want to change it? sure. but for now, i sit with it. in time, without any prompting or forcing, i will change. and as i respect myself, i will respect others greatly.
grace to you all.
that's not why i am finally posting.
but in light of recent events, i have begun to think more intently about the way i have lived up until now.
in a phoenix rising yoga therapy session, we do an integration at the end, bringing everything we have learned, noticed, felt and breathed together. we observe it, how it serves or doesn't serve us in life, and then speak about it.
sometimes it helps to do a spontaneous integration randomly through the day. i did one earlier today during my weekly mentor phone call...and it feels somewhat appropriate right now. or maybe just part of it.
one of the things we ask is how the client, or i, live life day to day, and how those interest-piquing things show up, whether on a physical, mental, emotional or metaphysical level.
this past week has been one long realization that i do not stand up for myself. i choose to care take, even when it is something i desperately don't want to do. but it feels safe because that's what i have known. it does not serve me. it imprisons me.
yesterday i took a huge leap from denying what is good for me, to embracing it, even if i saw the hurt it caused someone else. in a sense, i have been a lifetime liar, protecting others while never protecting myself.
so today, i see that. i acknowledge it. do i want to change it? sure. but for now, i sit with it. in time, without any prompting or forcing, i will change. and as i respect myself, i will respect others greatly.
grace to you all.
18 December 2009
i realize that i have all these ideas that i forage through on a daily basis, all the while scratching my head or carefully plucking the suicidal hairs on my arm (or at least i *think* they are suicidal).
who is to say that those hairs are going to come out? i never give them a chance- i just keep picking.
all the ideas, those rich, delicate, foraged truffles of ideas, are voraciously picked over, never to be tasted by the elegant lady who longingly waits for one, sweet bite.
once, i was a photographer, studying color, process and film, and even working due to sheer networking ability.
once, i was accepted to a prestigious art program, only to deny the invitation.
once, i was a writer, studying shakespeare, milton and prose, and even working, due to sheer networking ability.
once, i nearly finished my english degree, and then chose love instead.
once, i was a musician, studying notes, chords and rhythm, and even played in public...twice.
once, or maybe even a few times, i wrote songs, and then forgot them, leaving them behind for the next big idea.
...and then i kept on foraging, like that voracious little pig, snorting its way through ebony soil, only to come up with a snout full of mud.
as the foraging continues, the envy grows.
why do some seem to have the luscious truffle to feast on?
why do i go headlong into the forest, only to come out with more questions, less truffle?
i want it, i do. i can almost taste it, but i'm scared, of it, i guess.
so, instead of saying, "YES! I WILL DO THIS!", i willingly eat white button mushrooms and an occasional crimini, or maybe a portabella (but really they're kind of the same thing), tasting only the mundaneness of average faire.
one must truly commit to, and work for that truffle. it's long suffering. it's angst ridden. it's dirty. it's cold. it's really hard.
but that day, oh that one luminescent day when a handsomely dressed waiter delicately shaves a few ribbons of truffle on your impeccable, white plate, and you see and taste, and SAVOR what is truly amazing, you can never go back.
suddenly the picking stops. you stop beating yourself up for going on what you thought was a fruitless search and suddenly realize that the fruit was in that ridiculously long journey, and that sometimes it takes a bizarre, snorting animal to seek out one of the most prized ingredients in the gastronomical world.
each of my days has, somewhere in it, just a tiny sliver of truffle. i am certainly a clumsy swine of a person, fumbling, getting dirty, coming up with what seems to be empty hands. the physical and mental picking is relentless, literally. but slowly, oh so very slowly, i see why. that is my truffle, at least for now.
i am still a photographer, a writer and a musician. maybe i am not making my professional career out of any of those right now, maybe never. but what defines me is this journey, the chances i choose to take through the forest of thick trees, deserted beaches, parched flatlands, crowded metropolises and finally back home, to my heart, and a wonderful little land called forgiveness. that is a delicacy that one must never pass up.
who is to say that those hairs are going to come out? i never give them a chance- i just keep picking.
all the ideas, those rich, delicate, foraged truffles of ideas, are voraciously picked over, never to be tasted by the elegant lady who longingly waits for one, sweet bite.
once, i was a photographer, studying color, process and film, and even working due to sheer networking ability.
once, i was accepted to a prestigious art program, only to deny the invitation.
once, i was a writer, studying shakespeare, milton and prose, and even working, due to sheer networking ability.
once, i nearly finished my english degree, and then chose love instead.
once, i was a musician, studying notes, chords and rhythm, and even played in public...twice.
once, or maybe even a few times, i wrote songs, and then forgot them, leaving them behind for the next big idea.
...and then i kept on foraging, like that voracious little pig, snorting its way through ebony soil, only to come up with a snout full of mud.
as the foraging continues, the envy grows.
why do some seem to have the luscious truffle to feast on?
why do i go headlong into the forest, only to come out with more questions, less truffle?
i want it, i do. i can almost taste it, but i'm scared, of it, i guess.
so, instead of saying, "YES! I WILL DO THIS!", i willingly eat white button mushrooms and an occasional crimini, or maybe a portabella (but really they're kind of the same thing), tasting only the mundaneness of average faire.
one must truly commit to, and work for that truffle. it's long suffering. it's angst ridden. it's dirty. it's cold. it's really hard.
but that day, oh that one luminescent day when a handsomely dressed waiter delicately shaves a few ribbons of truffle on your impeccable, white plate, and you see and taste, and SAVOR what is truly amazing, you can never go back.
suddenly the picking stops. you stop beating yourself up for going on what you thought was a fruitless search and suddenly realize that the fruit was in that ridiculously long journey, and that sometimes it takes a bizarre, snorting animal to seek out one of the most prized ingredients in the gastronomical world.
each of my days has, somewhere in it, just a tiny sliver of truffle. i am certainly a clumsy swine of a person, fumbling, getting dirty, coming up with what seems to be empty hands. the physical and mental picking is relentless, literally. but slowly, oh so very slowly, i see why. that is my truffle, at least for now.
i am still a photographer, a writer and a musician. maybe i am not making my professional career out of any of those right now, maybe never. but what defines me is this journey, the chances i choose to take through the forest of thick trees, deserted beaches, parched flatlands, crowded metropolises and finally back home, to my heart, and a wonderful little land called forgiveness. that is a delicacy that one must never pass up.
04 December 2009
if i let go, what will people think?
if i let go, what will i think?
well, i would think nothing, and that sounds really nice right now.
if i let jared wear what he wants to occasions, if i don't have the perfect little chair for the living room, if my kid wants to play an extra minute more, if i am not a perfect size 2 and i show signs of age, if my car isn't perfectly cleaned, if my carpet is blue, and if for just a second i lose control, what would happen?
the chains that i have wrapped around my own heart and mind would loosen a bit more.
sounds so easy :)
if i let go, what will i think?
well, i would think nothing, and that sounds really nice right now.
if i let jared wear what he wants to occasions, if i don't have the perfect little chair for the living room, if my kid wants to play an extra minute more, if i am not a perfect size 2 and i show signs of age, if my car isn't perfectly cleaned, if my carpet is blue, and if for just a second i lose control, what would happen?
the chains that i have wrapped around my own heart and mind would loosen a bit more.
sounds so easy :)
29 October 2009
a bevy of verses opened my eyes this morning.
some were from proverbs and some from psalm.
the opening was not so much a function of how they related to my belief in the Bible, but how they related to my skepticism of it.
there has been a deep internal struggle for the past few months that has grown heavier, thicker and more ambiguous everyday. it's both beautiful to delve into the mysteries of life, and scary to realize that you can never fully grasp it. and yet, i try. we try. it's that Human Condition.
i had a pseduo-Christian upbringing, as it wasn't until i was in my teens that it became a serious part of our family life, and especially my life. like most young Christians in the throws of youth and culture, i was naive; probably still am.
your spatial awareness is all whacked. most have not yet been exposed to other things, other places or other ideas than those of their parents and immediate family. hence the often chaotic, confusing and dark times of the early 20's...at least among those that i know.
i don't believe exactly as i did 10 or 15 years ago. more than really knowing anything, i just wonder...a lot.
i still vacillate between two dogmatic realms, finding that the ideas and beliefs really are the same. there are different methods of going about it all. there is Jesus, whom I cling to first, and there is the Self, consciousness, Allah, Buddha, etc. all are working towards God, and all claim different avenues to achieve that transcendence.
i am fairly confident in the belief that I am not so sure about Jesus being the One and only way, or at least not in the traditional sense that i was raised with. then again, i don't know. i believe in absolutes, right and wrong, black and white, and yet, find there are is a lot more gray area as i age.
that's where the struggle comes in. where is It absolute, and where is It gray?
even though i am moving more towards a stance of being OK with the unknown, there is an innate part of me that REALLY wants to know, that feels i SHOULD know, and that i am silly, or even foolish, for not knowing. i used to feel so certain.
i say all this in leading up to some things i have read recently, which have confirmed all the more, how similar we all are, not just in human experience, but in simple beliefs.
as a part of my yoga therapy training, i am reading a book called The Forgotten Body, by Elissa Cobb. she was actually the lovely lady that lead the training i just went to. her book basically takes the stance that the body holds many of the answers about who we are, and why, but gets lost in the mess of life. we see ourselves, our bodies, souls, minds, etc., all as separate entities, rather being body, being mind, spirit, etc. it goes a whole lot deeper and i am not going to pretend to be able to explain it here, but the reason i bring it up is a conversation that i had with jared the other day...
i was telling him about some of the ideas the book sets forth, about seeing ourselves as a whole, with many parts, and he said that he didn't think the Bible could support it. i said that i thought it may be able to, which is something i am finding more and more as i get out of the Christian bubble to explore what other people really do say.
this isn't about either of us being right or wrong...really, there is a point.
anyway, as i was reading the Bible this morning (which i try to make a ritual everyday), i came across a verse in Psalm 6:3 that stopped me in my tracks, not so much for its wording as its context:
My soul is in anguish.
How long, O Lord, how long?
i always read the text notes that the verses offer, and enjoy finding other references throughout the Bible that can further illuminate the mysteries of God.
when i read the text notes on this verse, i nearly peed my pants. without looking for it, i found something huge.
here is what the text note says, from the NIV version:
soul.Not a spiritual aspect in distinction from the physical, nor the psalmist's "inner" being in distinction from his "outer" being, but his very self as a living, conscious, personal being. Its use in conjunction with "bones" [in psalm 6:2] did not for the Hebrew writer involve reference to two distinct entities but constituted for him two ways of referring to himself, as is the case also in the combination "soul" and "body".
jared happened to be in bed next to me, and i read it to him. he didn't have much to say except "interesting". really, what can you say? in light of all these things i am reading, which look so opposite from the outside, there is a thread of similarity that is uncanny.
the funny part is that in the book by Elissa, she nicely brushes off the way Christians look at the body. i am guessing that she didn't read into this verse.
so, there it is. a bunch of background, but, i think, peppered with much to think about.
some were from proverbs and some from psalm.
the opening was not so much a function of how they related to my belief in the Bible, but how they related to my skepticism of it.
there has been a deep internal struggle for the past few months that has grown heavier, thicker and more ambiguous everyday. it's both beautiful to delve into the mysteries of life, and scary to realize that you can never fully grasp it. and yet, i try. we try. it's that Human Condition.
i had a pseduo-Christian upbringing, as it wasn't until i was in my teens that it became a serious part of our family life, and especially my life. like most young Christians in the throws of youth and culture, i was naive; probably still am.
your spatial awareness is all whacked. most have not yet been exposed to other things, other places or other ideas than those of their parents and immediate family. hence the often chaotic, confusing and dark times of the early 20's...at least among those that i know.
i don't believe exactly as i did 10 or 15 years ago. more than really knowing anything, i just wonder...a lot.
i still vacillate between two dogmatic realms, finding that the ideas and beliefs really are the same. there are different methods of going about it all. there is Jesus, whom I cling to first, and there is the Self, consciousness, Allah, Buddha, etc. all are working towards God, and all claim different avenues to achieve that transcendence.
i am fairly confident in the belief that I am not so sure about Jesus being the One and only way, or at least not in the traditional sense that i was raised with. then again, i don't know. i believe in absolutes, right and wrong, black and white, and yet, find there are is a lot more gray area as i age.
that's where the struggle comes in. where is It absolute, and where is It gray?
even though i am moving more towards a stance of being OK with the unknown, there is an innate part of me that REALLY wants to know, that feels i SHOULD know, and that i am silly, or even foolish, for not knowing. i used to feel so certain.
i say all this in leading up to some things i have read recently, which have confirmed all the more, how similar we all are, not just in human experience, but in simple beliefs.
as a part of my yoga therapy training, i am reading a book called The Forgotten Body, by Elissa Cobb. she was actually the lovely lady that lead the training i just went to. her book basically takes the stance that the body holds many of the answers about who we are, and why, but gets lost in the mess of life. we see ourselves, our bodies, souls, minds, etc., all as separate entities, rather being body, being mind, spirit, etc. it goes a whole lot deeper and i am not going to pretend to be able to explain it here, but the reason i bring it up is a conversation that i had with jared the other day...
i was telling him about some of the ideas the book sets forth, about seeing ourselves as a whole, with many parts, and he said that he didn't think the Bible could support it. i said that i thought it may be able to, which is something i am finding more and more as i get out of the Christian bubble to explore what other people really do say.
this isn't about either of us being right or wrong...really, there is a point.
anyway, as i was reading the Bible this morning (which i try to make a ritual everyday), i came across a verse in Psalm 6:3 that stopped me in my tracks, not so much for its wording as its context:
How long, O Lord, how long?
i always read the text notes that the verses offer, and enjoy finding other references throughout the Bible that can further illuminate the mysteries of God.
when i read the text notes on this verse, i nearly peed my pants. without looking for it, i found something huge.
here is what the text note says, from the NIV version:
soul.Not a spiritual aspect in distinction from the physical, nor the psalmist's "inner" being in distinction from his "outer" being, but his very self as a living, conscious, personal being. Its use in conjunction with "bones" [in psalm 6:2] did not for the Hebrew writer involve reference to two distinct entities but constituted for him two ways of referring to himself, as is the case also in the combination "soul" and "body".
jared happened to be in bed next to me, and i read it to him. he didn't have much to say except "interesting". really, what can you say? in light of all these things i am reading, which look so opposite from the outside, there is a thread of similarity that is uncanny.
the funny part is that in the book by Elissa, she nicely brushes off the way Christians look at the body. i am guessing that she didn't read into this verse.
so, there it is. a bunch of background, but, i think, peppered with much to think about.
26 October 2009
slipping. thinking. drowning into a whole lot of wondering about everything.
i could read some books to get theories and ideas, or i could drown out the endless thoughts with t.v.
or i could do exactly what i am doing: writing and listening to mellow, emotional tunes by everyone from red house painters, to radiohead, to derek webb to yo la tengo.
there are others in my same boat. probably more than we'd all like to admit. i know it because i've read their longings and manifestos on what they think, or feel or hypothesize. and the thing is, they don't know either. and the second they think they do, they change. it's all back to that Human Condition.
i've been taking st. john's wort, which has never been a necessary alias for my brain. i am ok with it, especially if it helps the anxiety and melancholy that seem to be becoming ever heavier.
there's been a lot dug up in the past couple months. there have been a lot of very good realizations about my character and relationships. but that ever-so-soft simmer of emotions and feelings that have remained in the warm waters of denial have begun to bubble over in the boiling waters of reality.
i have bitterness and resentment and an uncanny amount of perfectionism that weighs me down every single day. it eats away, literally. it is impossible for me to be still. i hate it. really, i hate it.
it is impossible to enjoy a drama free existence. i realized this as i lay in my daughter's warm bed, in our perfect house, with the intoxicating scent of banana bread baking in the oven and a carefree night to do nothing ahead. i want, i crave excitement, movement, perpetual motion...even if it's negative. i don't have to sit in my shit.
i know i know....all of this is obvious and been hashed over a million times. i have just been in denial about being one of "those" people. i teach yoga for goodness sakes! i am looked at by students as some master of space, time and body awareness, fully capable of being conscious. i am not.
when i am alone, quiet, without immediate agenda, i am reminded of all the things i want to do, but am too scared to do. things like write and play songs, be in a band, be a writer, make photo albums, meditate and garden. but i don't.
the reality, that bubbling, oozing, scalding hot reality, is that i blame others, trying to make them the reason i feel incomplete. i find the slightest imperfections and mold them into fantastic stories in my mind, that make them the criminal and me the victim. classic narcissistic tendencies. yeah, i really love admitting that.
i have this husband who does all the gracious, loving, affectionate husbandly things, and yet, i am bored. when things are good, i am mad. i am sure there are all kinds of theories about that, but i'm no psychologist. somehow, he still loves me.
and there it is...love. that elusive thing that keeps us all going. the one thing that matters, that binds us together like sticky peanut butter and sweet jelly into one big, deliciously messy human sandwich.
maybe scientists can theorize away at how evolution works, or creationists can rationalize the great mystery of life. maybe they're both right. maybe not. but no amount of study or experimenting can teach us how or why love exists. it's just in there, deep in side, beating ever more the older we get.
i can find no other reason for love than the supernatural. i can find no better representation than Jesus.
when i smile, my organs feel an unexplainable energy that must make a shape like a smiling crescent moon.
writing always helps.
i could read some books to get theories and ideas, or i could drown out the endless thoughts with t.v.
or i could do exactly what i am doing: writing and listening to mellow, emotional tunes by everyone from red house painters, to radiohead, to derek webb to yo la tengo.
there are others in my same boat. probably more than we'd all like to admit. i know it because i've read their longings and manifestos on what they think, or feel or hypothesize. and the thing is, they don't know either. and the second they think they do, they change. it's all back to that Human Condition.
i've been taking st. john's wort, which has never been a necessary alias for my brain. i am ok with it, especially if it helps the anxiety and melancholy that seem to be becoming ever heavier.
there's been a lot dug up in the past couple months. there have been a lot of very good realizations about my character and relationships. but that ever-so-soft simmer of emotions and feelings that have remained in the warm waters of denial have begun to bubble over in the boiling waters of reality.
i have bitterness and resentment and an uncanny amount of perfectionism that weighs me down every single day. it eats away, literally. it is impossible for me to be still. i hate it. really, i hate it.
it is impossible to enjoy a drama free existence. i realized this as i lay in my daughter's warm bed, in our perfect house, with the intoxicating scent of banana bread baking in the oven and a carefree night to do nothing ahead. i want, i crave excitement, movement, perpetual motion...even if it's negative. i don't have to sit in my shit.
i know i know....all of this is obvious and been hashed over a million times. i have just been in denial about being one of "those" people. i teach yoga for goodness sakes! i am looked at by students as some master of space, time and body awareness, fully capable of being conscious. i am not.
when i am alone, quiet, without immediate agenda, i am reminded of all the things i want to do, but am too scared to do. things like write and play songs, be in a band, be a writer, make photo albums, meditate and garden. but i don't.
the reality, that bubbling, oozing, scalding hot reality, is that i blame others, trying to make them the reason i feel incomplete. i find the slightest imperfections and mold them into fantastic stories in my mind, that make them the criminal and me the victim. classic narcissistic tendencies. yeah, i really love admitting that.
i have this husband who does all the gracious, loving, affectionate husbandly things, and yet, i am bored. when things are good, i am mad. i am sure there are all kinds of theories about that, but i'm no psychologist. somehow, he still loves me.
and there it is...love. that elusive thing that keeps us all going. the one thing that matters, that binds us together like sticky peanut butter and sweet jelly into one big, deliciously messy human sandwich.
maybe scientists can theorize away at how evolution works, or creationists can rationalize the great mystery of life. maybe they're both right. maybe not. but no amount of study or experimenting can teach us how or why love exists. it's just in there, deep in side, beating ever more the older we get.
i can find no other reason for love than the supernatural. i can find no better representation than Jesus.
when i smile, my organs feel an unexplainable energy that must make a shape like a smiling crescent moon.
writing always helps.
25 October 2009
what if the Fall were a true, historical event...the tree, the snake, God & all?
and what if our Human Condition, that nagging ache that seems to penetrate every human cell until death, was our ridiculous desire to know it all, to understand life and death, to comprehend the vastness of God and spirituality?
what if we let go of the need to be right and the fruitless pursuit of an answer to some of the unknowable things of the world, space & time, and simply rested in the Truth that there is Someone bigger, in all senses of the word, that IS omniscient, IS omnipotent, and IS omnipresent...and It isn't us?
what if we let go of trying to fully understand ourselves and our existence, simply knowing that God is somewhere within us, as an ambiguous lover, the part of ourselves that we will never fully grasp?
what if we simply stopped trying to be God, to ourselves and to others, to lay down our crowns of self-righteousness, betterment and transcendence, and simply rested in knowing that the Kingdom of God is within each one of us.
these are my thoughts today...and they do give me rest.
now to baseball.....
and what if our Human Condition, that nagging ache that seems to penetrate every human cell until death, was our ridiculous desire to know it all, to understand life and death, to comprehend the vastness of God and spirituality?
what if we let go of the need to be right and the fruitless pursuit of an answer to some of the unknowable things of the world, space & time, and simply rested in the Truth that there is Someone bigger, in all senses of the word, that IS omniscient, IS omnipotent, and IS omnipresent...and It isn't us?
what if we let go of trying to fully understand ourselves and our existence, simply knowing that God is somewhere within us, as an ambiguous lover, the part of ourselves that we will never fully grasp?
what if we simply stopped trying to be God, to ourselves and to others, to lay down our crowns of self-righteousness, betterment and transcendence, and simply rested in knowing that the Kingdom of God is within each one of us.
these are my thoughts today...and they do give me rest.
now to baseball.....
16 October 2009
while up in L.A. for my yoga therapy training, some unsettling news about my grandma's health emerged:
the cancer has spread into the brain and her time with us on earth was coming to a speedy end.
as life goes, it was convenient that i was in L.A., without anyone else, allowed to spend 3 evenings with my grandma sans interruptions.
after this news and some time with her, i wrote the following in my journal:
She said, "You're so beautiful...my first grandchild!", as she cupped my face with her full, warm hands. Her face lit up like a child's on Christmas. It was difficult to contain emotions and thankfully it was dark enough to mask the sadness on my face. My grandma Ana is dying. I suppose you could look at life as a continual preparation for death, no matter the age, but there comes a point when you say someone is 'dying' which connotes pain and suffering. To actually say the words aloud gives me a foreboding jolt. When I saw her today, my first inclination was that she really was dying. I suppose the image of her lasting forever was in fact proven wrong. She couldn't get out of bed. She can't eat. She sleeps all day. She's lost weight. She's dizzy. Her voice is completely altered.
I sat outside in the brisk, ocean air for a long while. It's always shocked me how dark it is when you leave the light of the house and venture out into the stillness of night at that house. I made a few phone calls that eventually led me into a slurry of tears. I could not control it.
A day full of physical opening, followed by the reality of my grandma's imminent death has left me sapped of all emotional strength. I sobbed all the way home and emptied myself of as much pain and resentment as I could. It felt good. I keep coming back to the divine irony of my training being her in L.A., at the time of my grandma's greatest need and at a time when I prayed for space. As I sat outside the house tonight, peering in through panels of glass, noticing all the nuances of their eclectic house, the photos, art, books and statues, I could feel death beginning to rest upon the house. There is no more soul in that house. Sadly, I think it was gone long ago. I stared at the gentle strands of tiny leaves on the pepper tree that we got married under. I thought of all the other weddings and celebrations that took place in that same lush place.
Where did it go?
And I realized that I just have to let go. Not just of this house and all the memories it holds, but of my unbelief, my resentment and fear. It serves me nothing.
I've been basking my whole life in the shadow of bitterness.
Even my grandma said it tonight, that I was not a happy 3 year old. That makes me sad. Really sad. But i'm not 3. I'm not 6. I'm not 21. I am right here, at 29. If I continue to harbor all of those 3 year old emotions, my adult self will never actualize adulthood. I am my own prison guard. But I am also my own liberator.
I can drive down PCH a million times, and recollect exact spots where life memories were made, and continue to try and grasp the shifting sand of memories from childhood. It's a fruitless endeavor to always be living in the past. So I shall try to be right here and be OK with that. I may have been a sad kid, but I don't have to be a sad adult.
the cancer has spread into the brain and her time with us on earth was coming to a speedy end.
as life goes, it was convenient that i was in L.A., without anyone else, allowed to spend 3 evenings with my grandma sans interruptions.
after this news and some time with her, i wrote the following in my journal:
She said, "You're so beautiful...my first grandchild!", as she cupped my face with her full, warm hands. Her face lit up like a child's on Christmas. It was difficult to contain emotions and thankfully it was dark enough to mask the sadness on my face. My grandma Ana is dying. I suppose you could look at life as a continual preparation for death, no matter the age, but there comes a point when you say someone is 'dying' which connotes pain and suffering. To actually say the words aloud gives me a foreboding jolt. When I saw her today, my first inclination was that she really was dying. I suppose the image of her lasting forever was in fact proven wrong. She couldn't get out of bed. She can't eat. She sleeps all day. She's lost weight. She's dizzy. Her voice is completely altered.
I sat outside in the brisk, ocean air for a long while. It's always shocked me how dark it is when you leave the light of the house and venture out into the stillness of night at that house. I made a few phone calls that eventually led me into a slurry of tears. I could not control it.
A day full of physical opening, followed by the reality of my grandma's imminent death has left me sapped of all emotional strength. I sobbed all the way home and emptied myself of as much pain and resentment as I could. It felt good. I keep coming back to the divine irony of my training being her in L.A., at the time of my grandma's greatest need and at a time when I prayed for space. As I sat outside the house tonight, peering in through panels of glass, noticing all the nuances of their eclectic house, the photos, art, books and statues, I could feel death beginning to rest upon the house. There is no more soul in that house. Sadly, I think it was gone long ago. I stared at the gentle strands of tiny leaves on the pepper tree that we got married under. I thought of all the other weddings and celebrations that took place in that same lush place.
Where did it go?
And I realized that I just have to let go. Not just of this house and all the memories it holds, but of my unbelief, my resentment and fear. It serves me nothing.
I've been basking my whole life in the shadow of bitterness.
Even my grandma said it tonight, that I was not a happy 3 year old. That makes me sad. Really sad. But i'm not 3. I'm not 6. I'm not 21. I am right here, at 29. If I continue to harbor all of those 3 year old emotions, my adult self will never actualize adulthood. I am my own prison guard. But I am also my own liberator.
I can drive down PCH a million times, and recollect exact spots where life memories were made, and continue to try and grasp the shifting sand of memories from childhood. It's a fruitless endeavor to always be living in the past. So I shall try to be right here and be OK with that. I may have been a sad kid, but I don't have to be a sad adult.
01 October 2009
i think that it is time for a sabbatical.
Sab⋅bat⋅i⋅cal [suh-bat-i-kuhl]
–adjective
1. of or pertaining or appropriate to the Sabbath.
2. (lowercase) of or pertaining to a sabbatical year.
3. (lowercase) bringing a period of rest.
–noun
4. (lowercase) sabbatical year.
5. (lowercase) any extended period of leave from one's customary work, esp. for rest, to acquire new skills or training, etc.
in another definition, it is noted that a sabbatical typically occurs every seventh year.
as more and more realizations slowly come bubbling to the surface, there is one that is abundantly clear and radiant, especially in this week that i prepare to embark on a new journey of education and training.
i need space.
even as i write this i am attempting to negotiate with my 3 year old daughter for 10 minutes of time to simply write. the deal that has been struck is i get to type, while watching sid the science kid, with chloe perched upon my right knee. sometimes we must settle, or relish, depending on how you look at it, for what we can get.
as a part of an emerging, yet to meet bookclub of other women in search of their role in contemporary american society, i have begun reading the ever popular Eat, Pray, Love, by Elizabeth Gilbert. in one day i have consumed nearly 100 luscious pages of tales on travel, love, divorce and eating (note: 100 pages in a day may seem small to some, but for me, in need of space, that is quite a lot). while i definitely question her sort of egocentric take on life, kids and love, i equally empathize with her desire for space, not just physical, but mental. many of her accounts take me back (nearly 7 years) to a time when i, too, left everything behind, to get some space and do things that I wanted to do. i didn't travel for as long, or to as remote of places, but the similarity in sensations and revelations are uncanny.
i began lapping up every sentence as if i were a lonely nomad who just found a bubbling oasis in the middle of the sahara.
[break to look at a spiderman, i.e. minute fly creature in window]
then, i thought about how lovely it would be to have some time to write, reflect, rejuvenate, learn and fully absorb where i am at. that is exactly what i did in europe over 6 years ago. i could cut the loneliness with a knife at times, but could equally scream of love from the mountaintops of switzerland, just like the Buddhist monks that i saw there. it is the dichotomy of life, and travel, and even love.
there is something that occurs in our western society, a sort of denial of humanity, leading to a robotic state that ends up causing a monotonous cycle of joylessness topped with a cherry of bitterness.
we have forgotten that we are sentient beings.
i have forgotten that i am a sentient being
at about the 50th page of the book, it suddenly occurred to me that i am about to be granted that space. i have conjured up so much fear and anxiety about being away from my home, my husband, my daughter and daily routine, that i have completely negated what this experience is: a gift of time & space, a sabbath for the modern day woman.
all i could think about is how i need to do this to further my knowledge and paycheck. ha. how silly.
every experience in which we are allowed the space to think without distraction should be utterly relished.
we fear the quiet because everything that is true of ourselves is exposed to the elements, the elements of love, pain, spirituality, hopes and failures. surely, there are more elements, but those are the ones that permeate my core when i simply rest.
with the arrival of this new outlook on these next 2 weeks of all day training, and time away from the ones i am attached to, i feel like i am truly ready for what may come; coming with an empty cup. i come unattached to life up to that point.
that is a difficult statement to make, for surely i will deeply miss and grieve the absence of my daughter. but this is what i want.
in the midst of all these seemingly elementary concepts of just needing space, are some of the deeper yearnings and fears that i may confront. never completing things for fear of not being the best or fear of criticism, has kept me in a box. i am stepping outside of that, just like i did when i left for europe. in a year, i have no idea what will become of this all. i have some hopes and goals, but there is a long process in between. but i am beginning to feel what it must be like to set reasonable goals, and actually accomplish them, seeing them as little gifts, rather than obligations or means to ends.
one thought/dream/goal that i have had for a number of years revolves around publishing some sort of book. what kind is yet to be determined. many years ago, my mom and my gamma mentioned that i should write a book. my immediate thought was, 'About what?' i have some published work, and feel fairly confident in my ability to communicate via the written word, but what insight, knowledge or story do i have that could possibly impact another person? Eat, Pray, Love has shown me. this is a simple story, a travel journal really, about a real life carrie bradshaw. the emotions and experiences that she shares are not new or monumental. but they are thoughtfully put together and remind us all about our sentient nature.
so i think, 'Why not write a book?' a monumental task for sure, but if i am to reach outside my box, or maybe even step out completely, i must begin to believe that something like this is possible. first i must detach from my caustic nature and enter the realm of love & joy. i am on my way...
to begin to do any of this, i must begin with just me...my thoughts, my actions, my goals, my feelings and the present. i must communicate to God with an intimacy reserved for a husband and wife, rather than a distant friend from grade school. i must begin to make rest, my sabbath, a necessity. but i also must allow that to those around me, mainly my husband, jared.
most of all, i must see myself as God sees me, for all of this lack of feeling, bitterness, fear and resentment stem only from my disconnection from the reality of what we are all created to be: "oaks of righteousness, a planting of the Lord, for the display of His splendor." -Isaiah 61:3
if i am "splendor", then how can i possibly accept a life of mediocrity and joylessness.
here's to my sabbath, and to the one i pray each of you can soon experience...
Sab⋅bat⋅i⋅cal [suh-bat-i-kuhl]
–adjective
1. of or pertaining or appropriate to the Sabbath.
2. (lowercase) of or pertaining to a sabbatical year.
3. (lowercase) bringing a period of rest.
–noun
4. (lowercase) sabbatical year.
5. (lowercase) any extended period of leave from one's customary work, esp. for rest, to acquire new skills or training, etc.
in another definition, it is noted that a sabbatical typically occurs every seventh year.
as more and more realizations slowly come bubbling to the surface, there is one that is abundantly clear and radiant, especially in this week that i prepare to embark on a new journey of education and training.
i need space.
even as i write this i am attempting to negotiate with my 3 year old daughter for 10 minutes of time to simply write. the deal that has been struck is i get to type, while watching sid the science kid, with chloe perched upon my right knee. sometimes we must settle, or relish, depending on how you look at it, for what we can get.
as a part of an emerging, yet to meet bookclub of other women in search of their role in contemporary american society, i have begun reading the ever popular Eat, Pray, Love, by Elizabeth Gilbert. in one day i have consumed nearly 100 luscious pages of tales on travel, love, divorce and eating (note: 100 pages in a day may seem small to some, but for me, in need of space, that is quite a lot). while i definitely question her sort of egocentric take on life, kids and love, i equally empathize with her desire for space, not just physical, but mental. many of her accounts take me back (nearly 7 years) to a time when i, too, left everything behind, to get some space and do things that I wanted to do. i didn't travel for as long, or to as remote of places, but the similarity in sensations and revelations are uncanny.
i began lapping up every sentence as if i were a lonely nomad who just found a bubbling oasis in the middle of the sahara.
[break to look at a spiderman, i.e. minute fly creature in window]
then, i thought about how lovely it would be to have some time to write, reflect, rejuvenate, learn and fully absorb where i am at. that is exactly what i did in europe over 6 years ago. i could cut the loneliness with a knife at times, but could equally scream of love from the mountaintops of switzerland, just like the Buddhist monks that i saw there. it is the dichotomy of life, and travel, and even love.
there is something that occurs in our western society, a sort of denial of humanity, leading to a robotic state that ends up causing a monotonous cycle of joylessness topped with a cherry of bitterness.
we have forgotten that we are sentient beings.
i have forgotten that i am a sentient being
at about the 50th page of the book, it suddenly occurred to me that i am about to be granted that space. i have conjured up so much fear and anxiety about being away from my home, my husband, my daughter and daily routine, that i have completely negated what this experience is: a gift of time & space, a sabbath for the modern day woman.
all i could think about is how i need to do this to further my knowledge and paycheck. ha. how silly.
every experience in which we are allowed the space to think without distraction should be utterly relished.
we fear the quiet because everything that is true of ourselves is exposed to the elements, the elements of love, pain, spirituality, hopes and failures. surely, there are more elements, but those are the ones that permeate my core when i simply rest.
with the arrival of this new outlook on these next 2 weeks of all day training, and time away from the ones i am attached to, i feel like i am truly ready for what may come; coming with an empty cup. i come unattached to life up to that point.
that is a difficult statement to make, for surely i will deeply miss and grieve the absence of my daughter. but this is what i want.
in the midst of all these seemingly elementary concepts of just needing space, are some of the deeper yearnings and fears that i may confront. never completing things for fear of not being the best or fear of criticism, has kept me in a box. i am stepping outside of that, just like i did when i left for europe. in a year, i have no idea what will become of this all. i have some hopes and goals, but there is a long process in between. but i am beginning to feel what it must be like to set reasonable goals, and actually accomplish them, seeing them as little gifts, rather than obligations or means to ends.
one thought/dream/goal that i have had for a number of years revolves around publishing some sort of book. what kind is yet to be determined. many years ago, my mom and my gamma mentioned that i should write a book. my immediate thought was, 'About what?' i have some published work, and feel fairly confident in my ability to communicate via the written word, but what insight, knowledge or story do i have that could possibly impact another person? Eat, Pray, Love has shown me. this is a simple story, a travel journal really, about a real life carrie bradshaw. the emotions and experiences that she shares are not new or monumental. but they are thoughtfully put together and remind us all about our sentient nature.
so i think, 'Why not write a book?' a monumental task for sure, but if i am to reach outside my box, or maybe even step out completely, i must begin to believe that something like this is possible. first i must detach from my caustic nature and enter the realm of love & joy. i am on my way...
to begin to do any of this, i must begin with just me...my thoughts, my actions, my goals, my feelings and the present. i must communicate to God with an intimacy reserved for a husband and wife, rather than a distant friend from grade school. i must begin to make rest, my sabbath, a necessity. but i also must allow that to those around me, mainly my husband, jared.
most of all, i must see myself as God sees me, for all of this lack of feeling, bitterness, fear and resentment stem only from my disconnection from the reality of what we are all created to be: "oaks of righteousness, a planting of the Lord, for the display of His splendor." -Isaiah 61:3
if i am "splendor", then how can i possibly accept a life of mediocrity and joylessness.
here's to my sabbath, and to the one i pray each of you can soon experience...
30 September 2009
The following is from my paper journal that i occasionally write in. it's not pulitzer prize winning, but something that has really been nagging at me...in a good way:
The book of Judges has some very noteworthy and famous stories. There's Gideon, Deborah and Samson. What has been the most striking to me are the parallels between our desire for an omnipotent, altruistic ruler and the way the Israelites went from one judge to another, trying to set up an earthly kingdom [to solve their problems], when there is already a heavenly one established. In Judges 8, Gideon refused to rule Israel, claiming that we already have a King. What if we did the same thing today? What if we stopped throwing ourselves at the feet of Obama or complaining about the leadership of Iran, and rested, knowing that the Kingdom IS here, and it's nothing to do with our earthly politics. If God is truly King, there is no longer any need for riches, vengeance and power. There is only rest and peace, things we try to embody through humans.
this is not an obama bashing...i voted for him. simply put, we idolize our politicians and leaders and completely dethrone God. we do it everyday, without even knowing it. i do it everyday. money is king, or at least the desire to have enough is. but what is enough? if God is peace, if God is love, if God is rest, and if God lives in me, then what the hell am i doing?
just thoughts...
this is not an obama bashing...i voted for him. simply put, we idolize our politicians and leaders and completely dethrone God. we do it everyday, without even knowing it. i do it everyday. money is king, or at least the desire to have enough is. but what is enough? if God is peace, if God is love, if God is rest, and if God lives in me, then what the hell am i doing?
just thoughts...
28 September 2009
in an effort to simplify and get back to the basics, i am returning to this blog, only one in the slew of blogs and online journals that i have attempted to maintain over the past 10 years.
you'll see some older posts, which i found quite insightful upon reading them this morning. i suppose that is why i want to return to this blog. it is the one i began during my pregnancy, a time which seemed complicated, but radiated with an air of simplicity and hope that has somehow been buried beneath the disassociation of the past 3 years. part of my journey back here will be to explore what the hell happened to my faith and where the cynicism and fear became king. not a journey that seems pleasant, but necessary and enlightening.
so i am starting fresh, coming empty, ready for santosha- contentment and peace. i am ready for a new name, a new outlook, characterized by a true identity, which was never designed to be what it has become...
No longer will they call you Deserted, or name your land Desolate. But you will be called Hephzibah [my delight is in her], and your land Beulah [married]; for the Lord will take delight in you, and your land will be married. As a young man marries a maiden, so will your sons marry you; as a bridegroom rejoices over his bride, so will your God rejoice over you.
Isaiah 62:4-5
you'll see some older posts, which i found quite insightful upon reading them this morning. i suppose that is why i want to return to this blog. it is the one i began during my pregnancy, a time which seemed complicated, but radiated with an air of simplicity and hope that has somehow been buried beneath the disassociation of the past 3 years. part of my journey back here will be to explore what the hell happened to my faith and where the cynicism and fear became king. not a journey that seems pleasant, but necessary and enlightening.
so i am starting fresh, coming empty, ready for santosha- contentment and peace. i am ready for a new name, a new outlook, characterized by a true identity, which was never designed to be what it has become...
Isaiah 62:4-5
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