Clearing

Things understood and hopefully learned, today (in some cases, again):

2011-08-28T21:05:00.000-06:00

It's always worth the extra moment to stop and gauge your heart before swallowing someone else's verdict on you, before responding especially when your emotions are already at high pitch and when you are afraid (sometimes it answers the fear altogether) because the heart knows (wise) things the mind doesn't and if you keep listening to it, its voice gets louder.
That when people say "do what's best for you" they often mean "quit considering others". I think the better advice would be "listen to your heart and what it values" because that usually includes everybody (yourself too) without losing sight of humanity and integrity.
There's a subtle difference between conviction and integrity. Conviction will let you act without honoring yourself, but integrity will not.

When I was at Lowry Park last night...

2011-08-27T20:20:00.000-06:00

There was a family behind me on a bridge. The dad and two boys (maybe 6 and 8) were holding fishing line with meat tied on one end. They were catching crawdads. The mom stood by actively engaged in her watching, one hand on a stroller where the nine month old girl sat kicking and waving. They were one of the happiest families I've seen in a long time.

As I left the park, the mom asked me about my toe-shoes. She thought they were cute and wondered if they are comfortable. When I told them that I'd appreciated listening to their laughter, the dad said he thought he was having more fun than the boys. Witnessing them enjoy one another blessed me.

I spent most of the time at the park sitting on a bench near the pond, writing. A muskrat swam the surface of the water occasionally, bats dove and I let myself be still, watching the ripples shift under the dusk shadows.

Threads of the day; originally written May 15th

2011-05-31T20:09:00.000-06:00

I've started watching The Last Station. I've been curious about it a while. I won't finish it tonight. The thing that reaches me the most in it (I'm 50 minutes in) is the struggle by each of the characters to be seen and loved as they are in conflict with the pressure to live by a set of rules that some believe will allow all people to be seen as they are.

This morning, sitting at church, I became aware of where I'm standing in my heart's journey, of some of the crossroads that meet on this portion of the path and of some portions of the road that I'd lost track of. One of the qualities I noticed in how the community interacted this morning was a sincere recognition of one another, not with niceties, but with compassion. Those who blessed others the most were also those who were the least guarded... they also seemed to be the most loved. It gave me another picture of how we are least safe when we are the most defensive/protective. The movie offers a perspective of that, too.

Listening to the 8th graders giving statements of faith, also reminded me that there are more than two choices for where I live out my life and my faith... the choice is not either in a "christian" church or out on my own in the world. I needed the reminder that life is not well-lived in categories and margins... that the strongest cloth has the same thread as it's base, with only the top threads altering to create the patterns.

This week

2011-04-13T21:09:00.003-06:00

I got three bundles (27) of daffodils for $6.50 earlier this week,
made cinnamon rolls (and thought I could do better),
forgot to answer phone calls,
saw my first robin of the season,
relished eating bacon,
started a book that I am finding hard to put down (thank you Rob)
procrastinated doing laundry, putting the clean sheets on the stripped bed (All I really need is a pillow-case, right?) and finishing my state taxes,
wished for rain from the overcast sky (I hear it hitting the window pane, now),
remembered someone I'd rather not because my pity for him is not gracious,
translated,
worked out harder than ususal so that I was more sore than I remember being in a long time,
thought in French on and off for an evening,
enjoyed good cheeses,
wished for good tea,
wondered at my shifting appetite,
had dreams unlike any I've had before,
and had a customer -a 70+ year old spit-fire whose dress makes me think she used to be a flapper- call me "Toots"...
and thought about writing more than I actually wrote.

Melange

2011-04-06T20:10:00.003-06:00

Humanity is a hoot (sometimes):

Man on the phone at work: "Hi. I was wondering if you had a book for sale?" pause...pause... pause....
Woman walks up to one of my co-workers and with no introduction: "I need the book I didn't get." (?!?!)
Another customer, when he asked for a book, handed out his business card for Sasquatch Investigations in the Rockies (S.I.R). I was the girl who found him later to ask for extra business cards so my entertained manager could prove such a business exists.
Had a request, today, for a novel written in prose.

Aside: I didn't laugh at anybody to his/her face.
**********
Yesterday, later in the evening, I went to a park on the east side of Lowry, sat on a rise all wrapped in a blanket and watched the sun set behind the Rockies. The sun was already below the horizon but the vertical rays were sifting through the clouds, lighting up their topography layer by layer. I'd been craving beauty and quiet. Sitting there for those two-odd hours as the night came on made me feel just how deep that craving had been. *Big exhale.*
**********
Things that I think taste good on a burger (not all at once):
bacon
pepperjack cheese
blue cheese
roasted green chili peppers
onion strings
grilled onions
sauteed portabella mushroom and onions
provolone cheese
standards: lettuce, tomato, ketchup, mayo and sliced onion (fresh)
bourbon-sauce
avocado/guacamole

I think mustard and dill pickles make burgers taste worse. :-[
**********
I just remembered a promise I have to keep for tomorrow. Baked goods coming right up!

A Sunday and Change-Love

2011-04-03T21:44:00.003-06:00

Lousy night of sleep.
Failed attempt to sleep in.
Lovely morning service..
DAM- 7th floor of the north annex for the first time. Really like the photography of one Robert Benjamin of Boulder.
Watch snow fall on the capital from a stairwell window:

Write for three-odd hours at Novo Cafe. (Thank you, M and E, for the gift-card.)
Grocery shopping.
Put together dinner and eat with Em.
Make bread and monkey bread (tastes good, but I don't like the texture; however, wasn't following a recipe so can't complain too much).
Clean up the kitchen.
Start a pedicure.
Eat warm monkey bread and have a glass of cold milk to compliment.
Waste time online.
Time for bed.
**********
I like big life changes... especially ones that involve relocating to new places. It's something of an addiction. Whenever I move someplace new it's an opportunity to look at whether or not my internal and external priorities match (inner loves matching outer actions). Aside from the requirements of a new job, there aren't usually any social demands put on you when you go somewhere new. In Korea, there were scarcely even any behavioral demands, either (I was already foreign and there were no limits to how "foreign" I could be). I get to decide anew what type of community, entertainment, disciplines, interests, etc., etc... I want to feed me/my life and who I'm becoming. It's an impetus for re-examining the way I live and making fresh choices. It's a process that feels very sane and very healthy. It keeps me growing. However, moving can also mean loneliness, uprooting from community, having a very sporadic resume, having lots of long distance friendships.... . By the way, I'm not planning on moving again anytime soon. I am feeling the itch for that kind of re-set though...I just need to find a different way of accomplishing it.

Heroes for grown ups.

2011-03-31T22:41:00.001-06:00

I was around some teens last week and there was a moment that caused me to remember how as an adolescent there were certain teachers, older students, coaches, parent's friends, etc. that I admired and inwardly wanted to honour. I would observe them, often subconsciously, hoping they merited my regard. Those individuals were inadvertently my mentors whether they ever agreed to the position or not and if somehow they hurt or disappointed me, I felt it keenly. I'm well aware that to feel that disappointment, to recognize that our heroes are imperfect is part and parcel of growing up, but my rememberance had me wondering if as adults we/I completely let go of that kind of regard for others.

I'm inclined to answer no. I don't think we put as much stock in one person, but if I consider certain characteristics I appreciate/aspire towards I find that there is one person in my life who defines my notion of courtesy and being a gentleman, another who is my idea of a lady, another who has given me the most accurate picture of discretion, another sincerity, another integrity, another what it is to live passionately, another what it is to live unencumbered, another of what it means to truly accept others as they are... and so on. I don't carry any illusions of any one of those people being infallible, even in living out whatever particular trait I admire them, but I do recognize my continued need to have ways of life modeled, not just presented in abstract ideas or standards or ideals. I look for good ways of life to be literally fleshed out.

I'm still in process of the "so what" of these thoughts. Some of the continuing questions that come to mind: Why do I pick the people I do? How do I respond, now, if/when they disappoint? Am I someone else's model for any particular trait or do I want to know that? (Probably not.) What traits do I even look to observe in others lives and why those? It's just something I have tumbling around my mind this week.

Small kindnesses

2011-03-10T17:18:00.002-07:00

I tried to pay extra attention to beauty and small kindnesses, yesterday, I suppose because my heart was hungry for distraction and gentleness. Maybe your heart could use the same. It seems a smallish sort of thing to give, tonight, but I give it with hope and love:

There is a birch tree that in these cold months is all soft gray, silver and whispers of white tipped with deep red-brown clusters of sleeping leaf-infants, waiting for spring to unfurl them. They grow on the land west of the FH property and against the blue sky give a color set that means winter to me. I saw one as I walked to the Cheese Shoppe. There was a child's swing tied to one of the lowest branches.

I was able to be patient without difficulty when I was at the Cheese Shoppe and some elderly ladies were insistent. One of the clerks noticed and his small acknowledgement was a kindness.

There is a row of three tall true pines between two houses on Grape Street. I hadn't thought about it before, but they are the trees of play and make-believe from my two, three-year and six-year old childhood and I like them better than all the other coniferous trees with their long needles and blue-less green. I know the sound of the wind in them, the smell of them in the sunshine and the shape of their bark patterns. I find their needles gentle and graceful compared to the spruce or fir. They are comfort trees.

The clouds in the evening sky were lenticular in one part and mare's tails in another. The mare's tails remind me of the sky-scape at the FH because they are common there. The lenticular ones were literally silver-lined and beautiful with the gold and blue sky behind them.

There was a little dark-haired girl whizzing down the street next to the park on her scooter. She was a tiny little thing with her mother trailing a fair way behind, pushing a stroller. I was afraid the little girl would ride right into the intersection at the north end of the park, but at the last minute she swerved onto the sloped corner, dropped her scooter and went running along the sidewalk. There was a kind of joyful look-at-me-be-free-and-able attitude in her little body as she did it.

My cashier at Sprouts (oranges for 19 cents/lb!) was giving cheer with her thoughtful little conversations as she did her work. I thanked her for it.

Perspective

2011-02-20T21:12:00.000-07:00

A couple weeks ago I listened to a new hire voice a frustration with a certain customer behavior. "It drives me crazy when...!"

I wasn't directly engaged in the conversation and in my position of side-line observor it occured to me that a month previous that particular behavior wouldn't have culled her notice, but now it was a tac in the backside of her day. I confess that I laughed. -Not because I didn't understand (I do), but because it made me see what a choice perspective is. Since that afternoon, work has been easier than I've known in several months. I've been able to choose a different perspective.

Excerpt (and something I'm learning from):

2011-02-07T22:21:00.002-07:00

A compiled excerpt from Uh-Oh; Some observations from both sides of the refrigerator door by Robert Fulghum (the bold sections are items the author was reading from various supermarket signs during his moment of realization):

Uh-oh, you're losing your marbles...
Well, you're not the only one!...Yes, I thought to myself, I'm not the only one who ever got a flash of the big picture. Not the only one who understands how utterly amazing it all is.
Please accept your change -take it with you....Yes... I accept my change -and the changes yet to come. And I will take my change with me wherever I go.
Please note- the only way Out is In. To move on in the world as it is, one must turn to resources within.

A winter morning... to make a nice winter day

2011-02-06T09:24:00.001-07:00

9:00 a.m
Last night, part of my evening included sitting in front of the patio doors, drinking tea and watching the snow (real, heavy snow-fall) in the fading light.

This morning, I'm sitting lazy-like in bed, looking at the drifts sift off tree-branches and becoming acquainted with Chet Baker. (Yes, really. Blame the book I'm reading... and my curiosity.) I have my own subtle plans for keeping this day a meaningful pleasure. -Meaningful in the accomplishments; a pleasure in its pace, place and attentions. Here's to real winter weather. Because what's the point in cold if you're not going to have snow with it?

What I was writing about

2011-01-31T19:39:00.004-07:00

On December 4th I mentioned a painting I stop to see every time I visit the Denver Art Museum. A week or two later, I learned that because it's owned by the museum they will actually allow photos to be taken of it. I was there again, yesterday, so here it is; By June the Light Begins to Breath painted by Keith Jacobshagen (America West exhibit, second floor)

Why? I love open, big skies. I feel the space of this place when I look at the painting. I've seen skies like this; the clear light, particular tone of blue and shape of cloud write a letter from Home for my soul. I remember the smell of earth and fields when I look at it. I like the unusual and singular focal point in the painting and the low horizon. There are dozens of other details to catch if you see it close up (like that the trees have a fine deep brown halo that adds to their silhouette). I can spend a long time in front of this painting. If any of you wondered what on earth I was writing about that day, now you know (sort of).

Not a place to catch up.

2011-01-30T10:00:00.001-07:00

I've spent the past 24 hours being very sick. I don't recommend it. The frailty of my body is easily forgotten until days like the one I just had... when my body rejects everything inside it, leaving me chilled, dehydrated and weak. I'm horizontal, again, while I type (a convenience of computers). I spent a few hours up, but started to feel nauseous so back down I go in hopes that the toast and juice I had this morning might actually stay with me.

It was pointed out to me this week that I tend to write about what I'm thinking about, but not necessarily what I'm doing. -That this is not a place to catch up on what's new in my life. I don't know if I'm sorry about that. My day to day living has felt heavy of late, making it the kind of thing I'm not sure there's much value in sharing.

After my dad died last summer, I formed a whole new relationship with anger and impatience that I hadn't had previously. Now, the anger has dissipated, but the impatience has remained. It exhibits most frequently at work with customers. It's harder for me to be gracious when someone looks at me as if I'm the dumb one when they have neither title nor author to help me locate the book they want. "But it's about economics and history in the western world. It was in the New York Times Book Review sometime between August and November." This was from a lawyer. If any station should make a person aware of the nature of social contracts his should. Instead he stood there looking at me as if to say, "Come one, what else are you going to do to help me find this?!" -This after I'd spent the past 15 minutes typing every type of search imaginable, actually pulling up the New York Times Book Review list, etc., etc., ... It makes me crazy the leeway people ask for. Sometimes I want to ask, "Do you really want me to require so little of you? Do you really want to muddle through asking people to constantly compensate for your perceived helplessness?" Ayn Rand comes to mind a great deal, times like this. I did finally locate the book the lawyer wanted by allowing him to log onto a website where he'd previously purchased the book. Ask me if I respect or would ever hire him; him with his passive, polished, very courteous laziness. There are moments when I think I do not do anyone any favours by holding my tongue and being "helpful" instead of requiring more from the man/womankind I live alongside. There has to be a place where grace and responsibility meet. I think its name is mercy.

There are two real life, actually going on things in my life. It's enough for, now. In early December I wrote, I hope that if you read here, you are served well in exchange for any time given. I hope that writing out what/how I see, keeps you awake to Life. Somehow, in my mind writing "what's new" generally precludes that aim. I'll keep testing it out, though.

Shh... I'm being.

2011-01-27T19:44:00.002-07:00

Tonight, I'm sitting on the floor in my room with a glass of wine next to me and my space heater blowing directly onto my chilled legs. I don't want to move, don't want to make noise, don't want to be seen. I feel the need to just be -something that's seemed difficult to achieve, lately.

In the portion of Annie D I was reading tonight she used the phrase "sonant and surd" to describe a winter wind: "sounding without voice" is a much less poetic translation. "Sonant and surd" could describe my soul, tonight: making itself felt, but without clear articulation. It's moments like this that make me wish I meditated regularly. I think I could hear my own heart better if I did. Since it hasn't been my habit, quiet and stillness are more elusive pursuits. Still, I have now, I want both of those things and this, like any other, is a moment of choice.

A hodgepodge of very Monday.

2011-01-24T20:03:00.002-07:00

I had nightmares last night. I don't have nightmares. I couldn't remember them this morning except that people I love were dying. A co-worker said, "Well at least you weren't dying" (because that's what his nightmares usually include). The thing is, I've had several moments in my life when I could have died, and I wasn't freaked out so when I do have dreams that I'm dying they aren't nightmares to me. My emotional pain because people I love were suffering: way worse.
I cried, today, ...more than once. (And, no, I can't blame it on hormones.)
Talking with a friend made me feel better.
Holding an eight-month old baby made me feel better, too. (It was so good to see you, Robin, and I can't wait to see you again on Thursday.)
I'm glad my life has forward motion or I think I'd go crazy right now.
I'm also glad I know how to live with passion. Yesterday, I had a moment when I could feel the way it would be to live not really caring about anything, without longing for anything specific, only having vague dreams, minimal hopes, and a foggy idea of what I had to offer the world. It wasn't a good feeling.
I made one of my (7) bosses blush bright red, today, without intending to at all. It was great!
I remembered something about my brother, Nathan, today. At some point when he was in high school, it became important to him to treat people he encountered as worth-the-while/as valuable. I think I first noticed it in the way he interacted with his teachers or classmates he didn't have a lot in common with. He recognized their stories in a way that let them know they (the individuals) were legitimate. He can be (usually is) incredibly blunt and straightforward, though tactful, but he doesn't belittle. Even times when he's pointed out where I'm blowing it, I've walked away feeling affirmed. He honors others' integrity. It's something I really appreciate about him and this aspect of how he lives teaches me to live better.
Sometimes steamed broccoli with just the right amount of butter and salt is tastier than desert (tonight was one of those times).
However, layered chocolaty rum/kahlua cake with dark chocolate sauce, creamy caramel and toasted pecans= amazing. Add whipped cream and you might die of happiness. I need to learn to make this kind of cake. Right now I'm just imagining it.
The thin spread of muscles just below my collar-bone is sore tonight. (Thank you Jillian Michaels.) I'd forgotten those muscles exist.
I've been thinking again about why I don't always make the safe/comfortable choice. If I don't risk, I don't grow. This doesn't mean risk anything at any time, but it does make me want to pay attention to if or what I am risking, now... and why.
There's more hodgepodge, but I'm going to call it a day in favor of my pillow.

Greenwood, Colorado...

2011-01-23T18:27:00.002-07:00

...has got to be one of the loveliest little places on the planet. This evening on my drive home a golden sunset splash-shadowed the topography (a mix of small, coniferous covered hills and rock-rimmed plateaus on the east, tawny-grassed prairie in the wide valley and the high dusk blue Rockies in the west), a cluster of paint horses walked the ridge of a low-rolling hill in the valley, and a hundred-car coal-train pulled through a treed corner with its triangle of lights beaming. There aren't many homes crowding the landscape. The most prominent building is an old-fashioned, south-facing, red barn looking just as you'd wish. If it sounds picturesque, you're right, it is. It's a pleasure to view; a pleasure I hope life affords you.

15 hrs asleep/72 hrs alive=Saturday afternoon nap

2011-01-22T14:23:00.000-07:00

Recap on this day.

2011-01-21T23:12:00.000-07:00

Laughed until I cried.

Wished for a mulligan on a moment.

Wished for more sleep.

Was markedly aware of the difference in feeling between interacting with a person who trusts you vs. someone who doesn't.

Was put on the spot, uncomfortably, by someone's expectation/hope (which I have no intention of meeting).

Watched someone get really defensively angry and spent a sizable portion of the afternoon thing about how that emotion is hard to respect when people let it run, even if I understand why it's there (-And then also about what behaviors might be useful when I'm the one feeling that emotion.)

Wanted to take back words of frustration.

Cleaned (more).

Thought about things/people to write.

Tried to remember....

Thought about gifts.

Wanted a plane ticket.

Made vegetable beef soup with a kick.

Made mental plans for next week.

Looked forward to my days off this week and next. (I think I might need a vacation.)

Stood by a commitment.

Considered the benefits of speaking less and thinking more.

Unsent

2011-01-19T23:59:00.000-07:00

Not every letter I write makes it to the mailbox... the reasons are varied and not necessarily important. I ran across such a letter tonight and was glad I had because it made me remember a day more specifically...

Dear ____,

I write to you on a lovely day off. -Lovely because the sun is shining on the snow, lovely because I just finished spending two a half hours having the kind of time you want to have with a friend over lunch (communion, understanding, laughter, substance), lovely because I feel well and rested, lovely because I'm at peace inside with myself and lovely because the day is feeling well-spent....

It was January 12th of this year and, now, I get to be grateful for it all over again.

In the first weeks of the new year I've learned or remembered...

2011-01-12T18:00:00.002-07:00

Some lessons can't be learned simply by following advice.
I hate cheese that's not (read Kraft). Yuck.
No moment is too short to let someone know that you care about them, especially with today's technology. Do it!
If I hear friends and family express the same concern, using the same vocabulary, I need to pay attention... especially if/when they aren't in contact with one another and they're still saying the same things. It means they are seeing something I'm not and it's probably legitimate.
How great it feels to get a hug from a good friend when I didn't even know I needed one.
How much I value certain people in my life.
I really don't want an impersonal New Year's kiss. (-For once, something I didn't have to learn the hard way!)
I feel way better when there's no corn syrup in my diet.
It's worth taking the time and space to listen to what my heart is saying.
I (you) should never feel like I (you) owe someone a particular level of intimacy (emotional or otherwise) no matter how they think we (you) click.
What it's like to have the people who love and know me call me out and affirm me at the same time. It's amazing... and effective. (This is not an open invitation. I actually asked certain friends/family to weigh in on my life in the past two and a half weeks.)
If someone wants to write me off it's okay to let them. It doesn't mean I have to do the same (to them or to the part of myself they felt justified it.)
The value of laughing with people I love.
Life is so much better when I notice and am thankful for small comforts, beauties, blessings and joys.
Expressed creativity also makes life much better.
If a promise is going to stand a chance of being kept it needs to be made with the heart before it's made with words.
Dreams can and do come true... sometimes in the most unexpected ways.
How necessary writing is to me.

(the sunset this evening)

Happy New Year.

Different beauty

2011-01-10T21:30:00.004-07:00

Last week during a morning break, I walked by a fitness magazine cover with the usually shaped woman on the front cover. My casual passing thought was, "I don't look like that (shrug)." And then I paused... ...because at 5'7" I am a size four. I walk miles most days and my muscle while not ready for any type of extreme duress, is toned. I have curves. I'm comfortable with my body and couldn't lose much more weight without becoming unhealthy, but I don't measure up to the magazine cover body.

That moment had me thinking about beauty for the next few days. At least ten years ago, I was looking at photos from a family-member's trip and a cousin commented on the beauty of one of the women in a photo. The woman was native to her south-asian country, older and she hadn't struck me as being physically notable upon first impression, but when my cousin commented I looked at her longer and thought more about the person that she was/is. Health on her wrinkled cheeks, kindness in her eyes, dark hair pulled back from her relaxed face... when I paid attention I could see beauty there... and it was more valuable, more true than what I'd found missing in my first glance. So now, because of the comment my cousin made those years ago, I see differently. Dimples in front of genuine smiles, the thoughtful blush of skin, grace in curve of neck under the low salt and pepper bun when a head leans a certain way and the gentleness in a hand are among the beauties that get my notice. None of us have to measure up to a magazine cover, but maybe we should also look someplace different.

Medium for process

2011-01-04T21:20:00.001-07:00

I haven't been writing as much for myself of late (journaling) which makes it difficult to write here. At a glance that might seem odd, but not if you are aware that I process a great deal by writing for myself in that space. Putting my half-formed thoughts and emotions onto a page offers me the equivalent of a step back to gain perspective. Often, within minutes or hours of writing I have a much clearer sense of priority and direction than before I picked up my pen. Unless I'm purely relating events, the thoughts I share here are usually a product of something I've already processed via writing once, twice, thrice or more on my own pages. I mention this, now, in part by way of explanation for my relative absence and in part by way of revelation.

I completed another journal, recently, and when I was trying to select the next one from amongst my things (because I've been gifted several at various points, though this time none of them suited this season of my life (I've since received one that does suite.)), I counted how many I've written since I started in my early teens. Not including one I destroyed (my very first) they number 25! I don't at any point expect anyone to suffer through the mash they contain (a lot gets left out of my journals which can make them frustrating reading), but for myself, they let me see what distance I've come, remind me of lessons I might have forgotten, and cause me no small amount of discomfort at my own frequent foolishness. Sometimes reviewing them has caused me to change how I write and certainly what I bother to write about. In any case, at this moment, I could stand to chronicle a little more in that venue if for no other reason than to move several significant areas of my inward and outward life back into active, thoughtful and more intentional process.

What the past seven days have held:

2011-01-02T21:20:00.003-07:00

Visited a local Korean market; bought Korean style curry mix, mandu and hote-tock mix; and made Korean dinners on two different nights. (I have yet to make the hote-tock.)

Spent three hours writing at a coffee shop this afternoon... letters, a story, and two... I guess I'll call them record books.

Work, lots of work. Around the holidays a shift can mean walking 6 miles (we know this because a manager brought a pedometer to work).

I spent all of Wednesday running errands between here and Colorado Springs which was kind of exhausting, but worth the $100 dollars I saved between sales and coupons. Also, I got to have a fitting room party at Express when I found out I've dropped a size. Good thing I'm cheaper to dress when I'm thin (because most sales rack sizes are either on the small side or the large side, but not in the middle).

Had a wonderful couple of days at the FH with my mom and brothers over Christmas. The best part was simply being very present with and enjoying one another. We had a pretty fantastic Christmas dinner, too.

I've been working out, again, and life feels like it's getting back into pre-holiday order. Both adjustments feel pretty good. I only have one more holiday exchange/return to take care of, I got my oil changed and my front tires aligned this week. The rear tires are pretty out of whack, requiring shims to reset them, so I'll have to take the car in again this week, but will only have to pay the price of the parts.

On New Years Eve I felt lousy (I'm blaming a certain tex-mex restaurant which shall remain anonymous because I actually find it tasty and like their business practices, it just hasn't set well with me the past two times I've had it) so it was a quiet evening. I do not think it is at all indicative of what the coming year will be like. I think my year is going to be grand and joyful, even happy. I hope yours is, too.

P.S. Absolutely no resolutions have been or will be made for the New Year. I can't think of a better way to make sure I don't make a change than to make a New Year's resolution. I think I'll just go for being intentional the other 364 days in the year. (Now that I think about it, I usually am rather unintentional about how I spend my New Year's Eve. Hmm.)

All that underpines continues

2010-12-25T19:02:00.002-07:00

Every Christmas for the past four or five years, Mom includes a new volume of Mary Oliver's poetry with my stocking stuff. This year's volume is The Swan and I read the beginning of it before slipping into an afternoon nap. I appreciated it enough that I want to share it:

"Tis curious that we only believe as deep as we live." -Emerson, Beauty

What Can I Say

What can I say that I have not said before?

So I'll say it again.

The leaf has a song in it.

Stone is the face of patience.

Inside the river there is an unfinished story

and you are somewhere in it

and it will never end until it all ends.

Take your busy heart to the museum and the

chamber of commerce

but take it also to the forest.

The song you heard singing in the leaf when you

were a child

is singing still.

I am of years lived, so far, seventy-four,

and the leaf is singing still.

~Mary Oliver

Merry Christmas

Truth and Gravity...

2010-12-20T23:43:00.001-07:00

... have correlation in my mind. I think it would be next to impossible to fully narrate the progressive rumination that has led to how I relate the two (it's occurred gradually over the past four or so years), but maybe I can offer glimpses which might eventually create a mental flip book for shared understanding:

June 27th, 2006:

Grace I

Don’t forget

That the homeless man fell in love once.

That the prisoner had a wound

whose pain was larger than his wisdom

or his stamina.

That God is in the blade of grass,

the voice of your neighbor,

the calculable laws of gravity.

Gravity

Grave it is…

and dangerous

If you and I refuse to let God explode with wonder

all over our messy lives.

Do not close your church doors.

You are neither safe nor wise behind them.

Open them

and sit in quiet for a time,

eyes outward,

Overwhelmed.

Do not try to give an answer.

Grief and wonder,

Wonder and grief

-know them

Let them be at home in you.

Only then can you possibly speak hope

that someone else

can hold.

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

(It may be valuable to mention that in my own hunger for faith/truth, it's become essential that what I believe remain interactive and able to engage with any and/or all of the world around me; not something that must be protected by religious institution(s) in order to stand/hold.)

Movie; Koyaanisqatsi

2010-12-13T21:10:00.003-07:00

I just finished watching a movie called "Koyaanisqatsi". The title is a hopi word meaning "crazy life, life in turmoil, life out of balance, life disintegrating, a state of life that calls for another way of living". The gist of the film is how modern life destroys the planet and sanity. It's a melancholy, score (I'm going to take a stab and guess that it's based on diminished chords) with occasional intermixed chanting of the hopi translation of the words,

"If we dig precious things from the land, we will invite disaster."
"Near the day of Purification, there will be cobwebs spun back and forth in the sky."
"A container of ashes might one day be thrown from the sky, which could burn the land and boil the oceans."

The score is set to scenes that start in untouched nature then move to strip mining, power plants, cities, implosion of buildings, tanks, missiles, fighter jets, traffic in cities 24 hours a day, poverty, people walking city streets with miserable stony expressions and finally a rocket exploding shortly after take-off. (At first I thought the rocket was the space-shuttle, Challenger, which made it worse, but a little research revealed otherwise. The shots combine two rocket launches, both unmanned, only one which ended in explosion.)

Before I watched the movie I was laughing. By the time I finished it, I wanted to cry. I watched it because I friend asked me to. I viewed skipping through each set of film sequences once I'd absorbed any switch in the music and topic in the shots because I quickly realized the tenor of the film.

Maybe some people aren't aware of what is happening to this little ball of blue. Maybe some people aren't aware of the need for healing (internal and external) in our world, but I don't think I'm one of them. I think the hardest thing about the film is that it doesn't give you anywhere to go. It essentially says, "Look! Things are lousy. There, now you see. The end."

I'm firmly convinced that looking at what is wrong and acknowledging it is only a first step. If we stay focused there, nothing changes within or without. Look at what you do badly all the time and you're guaranteed to keep in the same vein or worse, you might even find new things to do badly! If you're going to give a wake-up call, fine, but also offer direction to the person you just woke up! I don't believe in ignoring reality, but I do believe in responding with hope to those aspects of reality that are less than ideal.

Because I need to sleep shortly, I'm listening to some of my favorite music, now, to try to wash this movie out of my head.

Find: Yael Naim ~ "New Soul"

2010-12-12T14:58:00.001-07:00

(empathy can be such a darling thing to know)

Laugh, giggle, chortle, chuckle, guffaw, etc., etc....

2010-12-12T14:24:00.002-07:00

The first thing that made me laugh this morning:

Marriage is a friendship recognized by the police. ~Robert Louise Stevenson

(The time period in which it was spoken/written and the source made it that much more amusing.)

After the laugh, I considered how it might affect my perspective to note the first thing that makes me laugh in a day (not here, necessarily, but in general). I think I'll give it a try.

Reverb10- Day 6: (Pass~ I write about the things I create in the kitchen all the time.)

A little bit of why:

2010-12-07T21:39:00.004-07:00

I've spent a large portion of the past three days writing, writing, writing. Several hours on Sunday saw me penning out one story-line of my life from the past month and a half. I wrote on my breaks at work, yesterday. I wrote late last night in a thin notebook from Korea that had been waiting for a specific purpose. I wrote on all of my breaks at work, again, today. I wrote when I went to Sojourner's after I'd gotten off work. I've written here (and erased and written again). I pulled open the notebook again this evening, for the fifth time, today. I've needed to write to process, to give outlet to emotions, to try to gain some perspective and to keep myself on course. It's served its purpose and I'm reaching the end of my day with a clearer sense of hope, direction and way of walking in this particular part of my life without shutting down a crucial part of my heart.

I wonder what tools others have when they are working through something that can't necessarily be made public, because not everyone writes. I know music can help if it's the right music (listening or creating). Talking can help if you've the right soul by your side to listen. I have friends who walk, run, pray or just try to sit still and wait, trying to let themselves be -to accept all that the know of themselves in that moment. There must be other ways as well, no?

Between the time when I put away my pen at Sojourners and when I picked it up again about a half hour ago, the purpose in my writing shifted. I know, now, in a slightly new way something I want to give with my writing and how to write to that end. I hope that if you read here, you are served well in exchange for any time given. I hope that writing out what/how I see, keeps you awake to Life.

*****
Reverb10- Day 4:

Wonder;
it's been cultivated in my life this year by choosing to pay attention to what (good or bad) moves me or the person in front of me. -And by being intentional about giving thanks. The two make a good pair; attention and thanksgiving. Seeing colour in a sky might draw your attention, but until you start to say "Thank you", you might not be aware that you are blessed, that your eyes function to see the array in light, that you are able to be present and that, that moment, regardless of whatever else your day might hold, is a gift.

Reverb10- Day 5:

I've let go...;
of guilt. I've told several friends, "I broke up with guilt this year and I don't miss him. He makes a lousy boyfriend." Elizabeth Gilbert has quoted a friend of hers, a former Catholic nun, as saying, "Guilt's just your ego's way of tricking you into thinking you're making moral progress. Don't fall for it, my dear" (Eat Pray Love p 183). I can think of at least half dozen more effective responses to failure of intent or omission other than guilt; sorrow, acknowledgement, repentance, apology, resolve, acceptance... . Why did I let it go? I suppose I got fed up with the uselessness of it, with the explanations I kept trying to make because I was feeling guilty and with the ways it kept me from feeling able to live and make choices at/for that moment (since guilt is always about the past). Guilt is about what you were, not what you are. Guilt will still whisper sometimes, but my attention goes elsewhere, now.

I can still do it, Bear.

2010-12-06T21:18:00.008-07:00

This evening is ending as it began; with me in (among other things) heels and an apron, hair piled high on top of my head. My get-up has me chuckling at myself, but without apology. I had a dinner guest, tonight, in my friend, Sarah. Because she enjoys good food and I enjoy being distracted by the preparation of food, I put myself to the test with chicken roulade (porcini mushroom, parmesan and basil). The mental and creative diversion was healthy and it felt satisfying to confirm I can still pull off that sort of meal (besides the chicken: savory mushroom cream sauce, sauteed green beans, a sort of latke and a very down-home dessert of hot chocolate chip cookie/dough with ice cream). Seeing Sarah was also a welcome reprieve with her warmth, intelligence and thoughtful ways of being. Good company, good work and a good meal has culminated into a good night. I can put away the now cooled cookies and call it a day.

P.S. The soundtrack for the evening consisted of standards. The final song for the evening: "For Sentimental Reasons" - Nat King Cole.

*****
Reverb10- Day 2: Insisting on a plan before I write often keeps me from writing. I can give myself leeway to write without a purposed end in mind, to be more free.

Reverb10- Day 3 (I need to catch up.): I feel as if I am often fully alive and aware so I have many vivid moments which stand on par with one another. I think I'll save the exercise of writing about a particularly meaningful one with my full array of senses in description until a more reasonable hour and put it onto my own pages for keeping. Maybe I can put a form of it here at another time.

a word for now and a word to come

2010-12-06T00:09:00.005-07:00

A word for this year: acceptance

...of who I am, the good and the bad. I'm still in process.
...of choices I've made in my life. They can't be changed, but I can choose, today.
...of my life (what it is and isn't). It's still being written.
...of my dad's death. Our days here are not the end of our being and the pain of his death... well, there's more to it than pain.
...of uncertainty. I've learned to hope in spite of it.
...of love (to let others love me)
...of help and compassion.
...of the truth that there are some battles I'm not equal to, today.
...of the pain I've known because I've also known joy.
...of the talents I have.
...of the inadequacies I have.
...of the hungers I have. Hunger can feed hope and action. Also, I am human. The unmet ones give me room to grow and keep me humble.
...of the passions I feel. They define me, they move me.
...of the disappointments I've known, even in people. We need grace.
...of the love I have to give... even when there's not an obvious place to give it.
...of the questions I don't have answers to.
...of opportunities taken and opportunities missed. I have this day, this moment to live.

The word I want realized in the year to come: complement

(for Reverb10- Day 1)

The one I stop at the longest and return to later in my mind (at least the last three times I've been):

2010-12-04T22:32:00.002-07:00

By June the Light Begins to Breath painted by Keith Jacobshagen (America West exhibit, second floor).

Unrelated: What an insane thing to miss memories you're not (yet) making. At the same time, isn't that roughly what hope is built on/fueled by?

...that kind of day.

2010-12-03T17:02:00.009-07:00

I'm getting used to this planet and to this curious human culture which is as cheerfully enthusiastic as it is cheerfully cruel. -Annie Dillard, Pilgrim at Tinker Creek

I wanted to bite the fingers of assuming strangers today (read "customers"). It was that kind of day.

I've been singing for/to myself, randomly; taking alto harmony or descant half the time. It's been that kind of day.

I can make a mean omelet and those times when I am feeling poorest you can be sure you will find eggs in my refrigerator. After work and stopping at the DMV to replace my lost (stolen?) license (it only took 30 minutes!), I cooked one with parmesan cheese folded into it, using the same skillet that had just finished bacon (I poured the grease off, first, but still...). It's that kind of day. (Yes, Nathan, my kids might be fat. ;-) =D )

This afternoon, I finished The Eyes of the Heart by Frederick Buechner (a name I never feel very confident pronouncing) and immediately wanted it to soak into the bones of someone I love because of the comfort in it. It's that kind of day.

I've wished by turns that I could live in my imagination for a little while and then that I could switch my imagination off altogether because it was serving me ill. It's been that kind of day.

When I was at the DMV, I "confirmed" my weight at ten pounds over because I don't want that to matter if/when someone is tabulating their calculation of me. It's been that kind of day. *sticks out tongue contrarily*

I was grateful for how the hours sped by during my work shift but want the hours between 7:00 and 9:00 to slow a pace. Four forty-five will not come any later in the morning, but I dislike blocking off time when it's being given to friends. It's that kind of day.

This Saturday is free day at the Denver Art Museum. I have that and a latte made by Eric to look forward to. A wise woman I know once passed on this tidbit: "To be happy we need someone to love, something meaningful to do and something to look forward to." This something to look forward to fits the role very nicely... especially since I don't have long to wait because waiting feels over-rated. It's that kind of day. (P.S. The Denver Museum of Natural History is free on Sunday.)

It's already 5:00, but I want a nap anyhow. It's that kind of day.

These are familiar sentiments...

2010-12-02T16:51:00.003-07:00

...and some of the reasons I head out for time on my own.

One phase of dinner and a blog

2010-11-29T21:00:00.002-07:00

I had broccoli quiche earlier, but now I am having fresh green beans sauteed in olive oil along with minced garlic and cracked pepper, finished with grated parmesan. I have toasted garlic bread on the side. I'm eating with my fingers because a fork seems like sacrilege. (Yes, I have a napkin handy.)

Thoughts as I was driving around to different ends this evening:

Laughing easily with someone in the early of the morning has to be one of the nicest kinds of companionship I know... and one of the rarest, too. -I'm not talking about the delirious laughter that comes after being awake all night, but quieter laughter when you've gotten up early and the world feels fresh.

I'm trying to remember when I first started really noticing light. Was it after I read Under the Tuscan Sun? Was it when I shared living space with L.A. at the Pink House because she made mention of it on occasion? Whatever the instigator, I'm glad I see it, now, with attentive eyes, though I confess I notice it out of doors more than indoors (unless it's lacking or makes my eyes hurt). I can remember particular kinds of light... driving across Wyoming under rainy skies with light shafting through in unexpected places; the high ceiling, clear light in Montana in cold weather when clouds are scarce; the pink Colorado light at sunrise and the casts of various seasons. Last night, driving home from the World Drum Symphony, the sky was low, heavy and dark with clouds, but the sun was setting so the light was sandwiched densely between the earth's plane and the cloud ceiling. It cast shadows and gold unusually. Seeing that had me thinking this afternoon about how light affects my sense of space. I'm sure that will keep me noticing in a new way for some time to come.

I can hope for myself and for who I am becoming even when someone else has ceased either to see and/or to hope for me. (I confess the thought has the tag, "Stupid jerk!" More grace please, Lord. Have mercy on us both.) I can both picture and feel what that looks like. I've been on this road before.... I wonder, do others take blocked communication as that kind of rejection... a rejection of person?

Sometimes, remaining in truth is difficult, but it's worth fighting to keep hold of.

Touch is amazing, sometimes frighteningly powerful, sometimes restorative and sometimes terribly distracting. -Another thing to want to have present in my life in healthy ways.... Put it on the list!

It's worth it to learn how to let others take care of you; to learn to receive graciously without taking on feelings of indebtedness. ~Assuming the lesson to give to/serve others, graciously has already come (-cause you don't want to be a mooch!)

I need sleep. 4:45 a.m. will come so very soon.

Sweet Nali

2010-11-28T20:40:00.000-07:00

Argh!

2010-11-26T22:00:00.004-07:00

People do stupid things, disappointing things, thoughtless things, careless, calloused or cowardly things all the time. Usually, one way or another, we find a way to shrug and be on our way, knowing that we have had and/or will have our day, but I hate the occasional other time when I find myself anywhere close to tears after a man has been an ass (i.e. disappointing and cowardly) because frankly, it probably isn't about me, but some broken or twisted part of them. ARGH! I need to learn to have a different reaction.

Sunday, November 28th, 2010

...A different reaction such as grace paired with forgiveness, hoping for healing for them, hoping for a more whole life for them, remembering Who it is that sees me (and them) and relinquishing because sometimes situations are such that there is no good place to stand or simply no room for me to be.

Birthday Breakfast Brunch

2010-11-24T19:09:00.002-07:00

At Snooze, an A.M Eatery (on 7th and Colorado) last Sunday morning

I'm being serenaded here (not too loudly) by a Snooze employee with a Broadway voice.

Diving into my complimentary vanilla-chip pancake with a reduced orange syrup. YUM.

Tra'Cee,

Christy (and the disappearing pancake),

and Norine

made my birthday brunch marvelous.

Mind keeps returning

2010-11-23T12:28:00.002-07:00

I read this three nights ago (in Good Poems for Hard Times. ed. Keillor. p 21.) just before turning out my light. I don't know a woman alive who doesn't want to be noticed this way:

A Dialogue of Watching
by Kenneth Rexroth

Let me celebrate you. I
have never known anyone
More beautiful than you. I
Walking beside you, watching
You move beside me, watching
That still grace of hand and thigh,
Watching your face change with words
You do not say, watching your
Solemn eyes as they turn to me,
Or turn inward, full of knowing,
Slow or quick, watching your full
Lips part and smile or turn grave,
Watching your narrow waist, your
Proud buttocks in their grace, like
A sailing swan, an animal,
Free, your own, and never
To be subjugated, but
Abandoned, as I am to you,
Overhearing your perfect
Speech of motion, of love and
Trust and security as
You feed or play with our children.
I have never known any
One more beautiful than you.

The periphery review

2010-11-22T11:50:00.000-07:00

When I drive home from work after a closing shift (not my favorite shift), if I take a route that swings me by Winchell's Donuts, I always debate stopping. I haven't done it yet. -Maybe if I had company with me? On the occasions when I'm considering it more seriously, I tend to recall times when I'd stop for donuts at Krispy Kremes in Korea with friends at odd hours of the day or night. I don't think Winchell's can compete.

Music I've listened to, today... and over the past week: Gravity (John Meyer), Grace (U2), and I'm Yours (Jason Mraz). -All pretty mellow fixes, but special to me for my own reasons.

Eating: (most recently) Homemade chicken and vegetable soup (mine).

Reading (most consistently): Eyes of the Heart by Frederick Buechner. I'm enjoying the anthology Good Poems for Hard Times edited by Garrison Keillor, as well (thank you, Charlea). One of my favorites from that collection is "Happiness" by Raymond Carver. There are others, but they will have to wait for another time.

Watching: -The most recent Harry Potter film which makes me think I need to re-read The Deathly Hallows at a more reasonable pace and hour. I think the first time I finished the book around 5:00 a.m. after reading through the night. It's no wonder so many details are hazy in my mind.

When my momma loves you...

2010-11-19T13:51:00.001-07:00

...she may show it by sewing for you (usually a quilt).

(In these shots she was spooling thread.)

Wishing for a wide-angle lens

2010-11-18T21:05:00.001-07:00

Visiting the FH* for three days means...

2010-11-17T21:49:00.002-07:00

lying on the couch with the Quinn talking nonsense which somehow culminates into talking sense.
sitting in front of a live fire and smelling woodsmoke on the air when I go outside.
seeing stars and milky-way dust.
standing in the wind.
giving way to my introverted half.
having as many hugs as I want.
petting sweet Nali.
falling asleep to quiet (unless you count wind and dog/coyote yaps, barks or howls) and minimal light pollution.
letting someone else take care of me.
paying very little attention to my phone.
really strong water-pressure in the shower (love it!)
planning the holidays with Mom.
clean air.
noticing the sky.
giggling with the Quinn.
getting perspective on the rest of my life.
listening to the stream and the wind in the aspens.
feeling the soft frailty of my mom's arthritic hand.
dressing down (jeans, jeans, jeans).
having my laundry smell like home.
sitting around the kitchen counter talking and snacking endlessly.
long, meandering walks.
hearing the Quinn's song of the week (which he contentedly plays on an endless loop).
mountains up close, huge and awing.
rest.

*Family Home

Separate/Together

2010-11-15T08:28:00.003-07:00

Several months ago a friend said something that stuck with me: "We usual find reasons to be separate rather than together." He wasn't referring to him and me; he was referring to our society as a whole. Rather than finding healthy ways to interact, we look for reasons to either ignore what is difficult in the other person or a reason to avoid them altogether. I'm not innocent of this and even this week had substantial reason to write someone off altogether. It's easier. -But it also leaves all of us more alone.

Instead of having the courage, wisdom and integrity to respond with compassion and social accountability we bail. It gives both parties an out. A difficult person or a person in a trying social situation doesn't have to look any closer at what's really going with their actions, character or situation and I don't have to be any more tolerant or gracious than I was five minutes ago. The difficult person is also left with the lingering, maybe subconscious question, "Will anyone ever stay through my crap or situation?" The person who walked away doesn't have any business asking for more than they've given and they're that much less equipped for a similar challenge they might face later in life (one they may not be able to exit so easily).

I know that there are seasons when I'm less able to deal with this kind of thing. I also know that there are certain traits, behaviors or circumstances in other people that I find more difficult than others, usually because of my own personal history or weaknesses, and this affects how able/ready I am to meet situations. I expect it's the same for everyone else. Those two factors being taken into account, just being more aware of the choice I make to either live more "separate or together" is changing how I respond to people. I'm not advocating that we try to "fix" one another (because I don't think we can), but maybe we can leave one another feeling a little less alone, a little more accepted, and a little more hopeful.

Find north

2010-11-14T10:03:00.000-07:00

It is possible, in deep space, to sail on solar wind. Light, be it particle or wave, has a force: you rig a giant sail and go. The secret of seeing is to sail on solar wind. Hone and spread your spirit till you yourself are a sail, whetted, translucent, broadside to the merest puff.

- Annie Dillard, Pilgrim at Tinker Creek

I was supposed to go to church this morning. I say "supposed to" because they are having a brunch this morning after a combined service and I had RSVP-ed. So why am I slipping myself away to hike a hill near the mountains this morning, instead of keeping my word?

There have been many times in my life when I've looked into my surroundings for a roadsign, asked questions of anyone who seemed a little more experienced or a little wiser than I to see if they could point me the direction I ought to go. Now at 32 (almost 33), I know differently. It isn't to say that people don't ever lend me a hand or wake me up to some part of life I hadn't seen before. Far from it! But when I have a decision to make -a decision with a dozen minute sub-decisions, a decision that my soul's conflicted over- then I have to get away from people and opinions and advice to quiet, not just external quiet, but to the quiet of my heart. Then I can see clearly what I value, what is True, and where my integrity lies. Then the decision almost makes itself, but more than that; seeing where my heart lies gives me the courage to follow through with whatever action is required.

I used to think my heart was bad and untamable. If that was true, it isn't any longer. It's whole. I just have to pay attention to it. I'm off to take notice... you know... find north.

Being me II

2010-11-12T23:57:00.003-07:00

I like wearing hats every now and again (like, today).

It makes me a little bit sad when I see a friend or family member laugh (I mean really laugh) and realize that it's been a long time since I last saw them do that.

I have a lot of winter scarves.

Dusting is my least favorite chore.

I'm more of a morning person.

There are many more things I want to learn/learn about.

I don't collect anything (as a hobby) and don't want to.

When I have long nails I mess with them constantly (so I don't often have long nails because I don't like "messing").

The best pastries I've ever had were from bakeries in Korea.

I like white linens and white dishes.

I shave my legs because I like smooth legs. I shave my arm-pits because I don't like hairy arm-pits. You can do what you want.

There's a certain musky-oily-incense smell that I equate with being granola. (No, I don't like it.)

I don't mind carnations when they are by themselves, but I don't like them mixed in with other flowers.

I like tile and brick floors (except that brick is hard to have/keep even). Wood is worrisome (water and scratches) and it's hard to feel like carpet is ever really clean.

When I walk through neighborhoods my fall-back preoccupation is working out how to fix/change what I don't like on the houses I pass.

I have a favorite street in Colorado Springs, Denver, Seoul, and Plattsburgh (NY).

There's a french restaurant in Montreal that I want to go back to someday.

Things my mind is not likely to retain: song lyrics, movie quips, jokes, titles, exact quotes of almost anything.

For me: Water=soothing; Wind=invigorating and challenging (in a good way); Fire= simplifying/getting to the bare bones of something; Earth=enduring (in the sense of strength and tolerating, both)

Clipped highlights

2010-11-10T17:45:00.004-07:00

Most of what's on my mind is under lock and key, tonight. (-So this might not be worth reading!)

My shoulder is 75% better. 75% because I know I still can't work out, because it still has twinges of pain and because I think it would still be possible to pull the stitches out. 75% because I can give it full range of motion without wincing and managed to work for four hours, today, without any serious repercussions.

The house is cold despite having turned up the heat. (I hate being cold! *scowl*)

I'm concerned for several friends without having a clear picture of how to help any of them. I think this might be one of those times when being present is the best gift I can give... but I have a few other ideas, too. =)

The "processing" graphic for my computer's security software looks like a pig snout to me.

I've had almost no appetite this week and it makes me wonder if my body is fighting a fever. ("Feed a cold; starve a fever"... my body seems to respond this way on its own). I'm doing what I know to boost my body's immunity (in terms of what I am eating and how much sleep I'm getting).

I love my mechanic shop. Their staff is the most thoughtful, integral and capable I've come across. *sigh of relief*

The funniest moment of the week: After a patron's particularly awful ringtone sounded, the kitchen staff at CafeEuropa started singing in parody, "I kissed a squirrel and I liked it." Chuckling silently over it with a girl a table away was fun, too.

I feel cared for.

I feel exhausted.

Tonight is a night for slipping into scrubs and cleaning. It's time for me to get to it.

whimper.

2010-11-08T19:20:00.003-07:00

A little less than a month ago, I had a mole removed for testing. Diagnosis: benign, but abnormal; please return to have the remaining abnormal tissue removed within the next four weeks. Today, I returned, and now have eight stitches just to the right of my left shoulder-blade and it hurts badly enough to cry. (The last time I cried because of physical pain, I was 17.) Why, oh, why didn't I ask for pain meds? Oh, yeah, cause it didn't hurt like this last time! I can't imagine what whip lashes must have felt like back in the day. OUCH!

I left work early (which feels lousy to do). I'm currently looking for some serious distraction, wondering how I'm going to get my shirt off later tonight without making it bleed (again), and trying to keep my left arm very still and relaxed.

My thanks to those of you who kept an eye out for me when I was at work, today, and for making up the difference in my absence (Brian, Julia, Tom, Hans, John, Rob, Hannah, Monica and Katie). You're rock-stars.

P.S. I hate feeling like a wuss (like this). :-/

Today is a day...

2010-11-07T12:54:00.005-07:00

... for army-green hip-huggers and braided pig-tails.

... for ibuprofen.
... for a latte and journal writing to vacate some of the hamster-wheel mulling that had me so restless last night.
... for letting my iPod play through its entire library (songs A-Z) and getting a kick out of the variety.
... for cleaning my bedroom.
... for finishing the two letters I started earlier in the week and writing at least two more.
... for drinking tea and pulling up all the blinds to let in the autumn sun when it can get through the clouds.
... for practicing the waltz. =)
... for getting groceries and razor blades (what a frustrating expense).
... for painting my toenails (OPI "Off With Her Red!" if you must know) and taking care of my fingernails, too.
... for doing laundry, including the "wash by hand" stuff c(= , and putting clean sheets on the bed.
... for calling my best friend.
... for updating goodreads.
... for walking and/or working out.
... for watching leaves blow in the wind and for listening to squirrels run on the roof.
... for baking something yummy that includes raspberries in the recipe.
... for writing a poem (this doesn't count, silly).
... for being alive, free and answerable for the choices I'm making (-what an utterly individual and sometimes delicious responsibility that is).

Shake the dust from Anis Mojgani on Vimeo.

(Thank you, Josh, for making me aware if this bit of fire.)

Being a kid

2010-11-06T18:53:00.002-06:00

I was lying on the couch getting drowsy at a quarter to four, which is just a terrible time to take a nap in my estimation, so I went outside after an afternoon snack of cookies and milk. The day was still warm with the sun setting (already! -And tomorrow it will be dark a whole hour earlier!). I read a little Annie Dillard, attempted two phone calls, and then decided to play barefoot in the leaves under a cotton-wood tree. They are gold, not so dry that they scratch and smell great, especially after sitting in the afternoon sun. After a short while I pulled a reluctant Em outside to join me. -Kicked, skipped through, shuffled in and tossed the leaves in the air. There's a wide gutter-path that runs between the golf-course and the barrier lawn in front of the town-homes where we live and I gave myself the challenge of clearing it in a leap. (I made it once.) Then Em asked if I remembered the steps for the triple-jump. Yep.

Can you pull up what it was like to run around when you were a kid? -How you couldn't imagine anything hurting as a result of sprinting, running, jumping, etc. except for your side if you got too winded? I don't want to forget what that felt like. -And I want to remember to appreciate things like a carpet of fall leaves.

Things that make (my) life better:

2010-11-04T19:42:00.009-06:00

Hot cookies just out of the oven and cold milk.
Down comforters (they lie just right).
Sunshine.
Quick summer rains.
Going barefoot in the grass.
Good wine.
Really good food.
Knowing how to make good food.
Driving a manual.
Recalling good memories and acknowledging/remembering how I grew as a result of the bad ones.
Knowing that embarrassing myself isn't the worst thing in the world.
Sound and sufficient sleep.
Knowing that people don't scrutinize me nearly as much as my junior high self thought they did.
Books/stories that remind me or show me what I want to be about in an encouraging way (without making me feel guilty about the ways I haven't "arrived").
Honesty thoughtfully and clearly communicated. (This doesn't always require words.)
Baked goods.
Witnessing a person doing a good thing well -a thing which they enjoy doing.
Wisely offered beauty and/or strength.
When I know a friend has/has had me in mind.
Touch that recognizes/honors the other person and is an honest expression of the relationship.
Courage.
Being true to myself/my heart.
Giving thanks.
Being in good company.
Watching other people live with integrity and intention.
Seeing stars, especially seeing stars away from city lights.
Remembering that I have this moment (and only this moment) to choose whether to stay on the same course or start in a new direction.
The moments when I don't feel as if I were doing life alone.

Sojourner's Coffee and Tea

2010-11-04T16:30:00.001-06:00

Recently, Sojourners has been one of my favorite coffee stops. It's located on the southwest corner of Holly and Florida. Here's why I like it:

A patio, cafe tables or cushy chairs depending on your preference (and the weather).

Sojourner's serves both Novo and Coda coffee (two locally roasted blends).

They have a good variety of teas, pastries and paninis (breakfast and lunch).

I like the brain teasers and wind-up toys on the counter where you wait for your drink. The marching monkey with cymbals is my personal favorite.

The first time I visited there was a book on the counter inviting me to learn Welsh. There's a large glass bookcase on one wall with games and books available for customer use.

It's spacious so you don't have to be stuck listening to a neighbor's conversation, local artists display on several of the walls and there are plenty of plug-ins for those attached to their laptops.

Open 6:00 a.m. to 6:00 p.m. Monday through Saturday.

Whole

2010-11-03T19:19:00.004-06:00

The following was written for my dad's memorial service. I'm posting it, now, because it's been on my mind as a result of a conversation I had earlier in the day about validation and learning to to be whole:

Some of you knew my dad when his mom taped his ears to his head at night to keep them from sticking out, when a good week was a week without a spanking. Some of you knew him later on at Greenville College when he started to know that he had a decent mind and he didn’t have to be as backwards as he sometimes felt; or when he was building at Horn Creek and learning to lead others. Only a few of you knew him when he developed the retreat in Spain and wound up being a sort of mentor to a small group of young adults who would come from Madrid to work at the camp. Most of you knew him when he was a more intricate part of the Westcliffe community, running the hardware store and then during the decade when he really stopped being himself.

The last time my dad moved to Seattle, he went having lost almost everything. He’d lost honor, lost his sense for truth, lost his family, lost many friendships, lost his integrity, lost most of what had defined him. –But he was done hiding, done trying to figure out how to pull himself up on his own. He took all the broken pieces he’d become and knelt before God morning after morning. Many mornings he couldn’t even bring words. He just waited. –And what he found was that God loved him broken and His love had a way to make my dad stand.

After he’d been back several years and I’d returned from a time when I’d come to face with my own brokenness in Korea, we had a conversation one evening about what he called “wounded wholeness”. That week, both of us had seen things in our characters and attitudes that we weren’t proud of. We both knew we still needed grace, but we also knew Christ loved us with his life and loved we had hope. We were needy, but met in our need. I had opportunity to see new acceptance take hold in my dad. Reasons for impatience or frustration hadn’t dissolved, but it was as if with each encounter with another person he thought, “I’m in need and am loved in my need. Father, you love this person in their need so I’ll love them too.” –And his heart would open its arms with acceptance and hope.

I look around this place where we sit now and it’s easy for me to see my dad here… walking across the lawn, cutting brush, pushing a mower or sitting by the stream watching the day shift. When I visited he was all the time offering me invitations to enjoy it out here, too, with or without him. If he could stand here I think he would tell you, “I love you. I’m so glad you’re here in the place. Isn’t it beautiful? Come enjoy it. I hope you’re blessed.”

So with some measure of his heart, we welcome you and we thank you for being here to remember my dad as he was -not faultless, but living in grace. I hope that, today, you can know the acceptance and the grace that he had come to understand.

One way to de-stress (at least if you're me)

2010-10-31T20:35:00.000-06:00

I came home on Friday feeling overwhelmed so I went out on the back patio with these...

...to watched this...

...and proceeded to....

Tada!

A favorite street (photos taken Sunday, Oct. 24th)

2010-10-29T22:55:00.001-06:00

Chatfield Corn Maze

2010-10-25T21:01:00.004-06:00

Thanks Dwyers, Hadducks and company for the evening.

Why I read Annie Dillard

2010-10-24T12:24:00.000-06:00

You can heave your spirit into a mountain and the mountain will keep it, folded, and not throw it back as some creeks will. The creeks are the world with all its stimulus and beauty; I live there. But the mountains are home.

...light chooses an unexpected part of the landscape to trick out in gilt, and then shadow sweeps it away.

It was an act as careless and spontaneous as the curl of a stem or the kindling of a star.

...beauty and grace are performed whether or not we will sense them. The least we can do is try to be there.

The whole show has been on fire from the word go. I come down to the water to cool my eyes. But everywhere I look I see fire; that which isn't flint is tinder, and the whole world sparks and flames.

-Annie Dillard, Pilgrim at Tinker Creek, Chapter 1; Heaven and Earth in Jest

Words (and their ideas) to like:

2010-10-23T21:38:00.007-06:00

clear
whimsy
integral
sincere
wonder
wander
appreciate
accompanied
earnest
really
discern
sustain
honest
remembrance
limpid
dear
ask
graceful
understood
grateful
embrace
union
honor
courage
life-giving
marvel
firmament

Tonight I...

2010-10-14T21:34:00.008-06:00

was eating half a fresh mango and thought, "This tastes better than creme brulee!"
found a new favorite grocery store: Sprouts off Mississippi and Havana.
was seriously tempted to buy eight pink lady apples to make a dutch apple pie... to eat for breakfast.
bought fresh asparagus at $.97/lb. (I love it when I leave a grocery store having spent less than $20.)
felt pleased (with a grin) about having written five letters, yesterday. I heard a statistic that 95% of this year's graduating college students have never put a stamp on an envelope. I don't want letter writing to be a lost form of communication!
realized the hug I'm craving is my dad's... safe and uncomplicated.
want to finish my book, but think that it would affect my dreams if I do and that would not be so good.
am drinking a glass of red wine while I type. As wines go it's weak sauce: 2009 Dona Paula Los Cardos Malbec, Mendoza, Argentina. (It's been a long time since I used the phrase "weak sauce".)
dropped my best friend and my roommate off at the airport. I wanna get on a plane too! I'm also kind of itching to move... and I know where I want to go. Pout. Stupid out-of-state tuition rates.
thought about how hard it can be to clearly say what you think/care about, but how we pay if we do anything less courageous.
am so looking forward to three days of staycation.
have a smile behind my eyes... a real one.
will sleep like a baby... a baby with abs of steel. I think I clench them when I sleep, probably due to a random stress. They hurt like crazy the next day, but my sleep is uninterrupted. Strange.

G'night!

A present for you:

2010-10-11T21:06:00.003-06:00

Being me

2010-10-11T20:48:00.019-06:00

I like lemon curd.
Fresh lemon juice and sugar on pancakes tastes heavenly (-just ask the Woodsons, they know).
I love tympani drums (and I like that there's such a word as tympanum though it doesn't mean what I think it should).
If I could get on a plane just to go somewhere new, tomorrow, I would.
Most people don't ask enough questions and even more rare is the person who asks valuable questions.
Anger has been too familiar an emotion since my dad died.
I think that if you're stuck on a person's appearance, you'll always miss who they actually are.
Should is my least favorite word.
I like movies like Wives and Daughters, North and South, Bleak House, and Our Mutual Friend because of the quality of character in the female leads.
I like any color in the right circumstance.
Driven women make me uncomfortable.
I don't like wearing necklaces.
I walk around with two distinct and simultaneous sensations that I'm fortunately usually right between: as if beauty and strength were fire in my veins and as if I would drown under pain at any moment.
I'm not done living overseas.
I would rather not have/need a car.
I'm addicted to stories.
I think that in terms of being the word earnest applies to my average mean.
It is good to be alive.

Piece THIS!

2010-10-10T21:36:00.004-06:00

A jeweler's ad I heard this evening when I was driving back from Colorado Springs: A woman is a puzzle and the right engagement ring is the missing piece.

Piece THIS! My eyes are still rolling. Somebody's head of advertising should consider a new line of work if this is the garbage he or she is producing.

I think engagement rings are a sorry investment in a relationship, especially when you consider A.) who you support when you pay for a diamond and B.) who may have suffered collecting that diamond. Want to invest 3K (or more) into moving your relationship forward? Buy a canoe, two bikes, a tent, backpacks, a two-seat kayak, a year's worth of dancing lessons... anything that the two of you can enjoy together for a long time. Both benefit from the returns on the money (in memories and time shared) and she can stay free from the rock comparison game (that doesn't prove anything anyway). It's supposed to be about your commitment so invest towards participating in that commitment. That's my two cents.

Cocinar!

2010-10-07T18:52:00.003-06:00

Oven roasted rosemary garlic spaghetti squash.

Driving tales

2010-10-07T18:31:00.000-06:00

I took Mom to the airport in Colorado Springs, today, and then made my way back to my XH (Xanadu Home). Somewhere between Castle Rock and Denver a sheet of packing foam had fallen off someone's load, broken into sizable bits and was making high leaps down the interstate, propelled by the drafts of passing traffic. It was like driving through popping corn! -A Willy-Wonka-kiddish-delight moment. I loved it!

Anyone else notice that in Colorado the rule seems to be slow traffic on the left, pass on the right?

Somewhere between Monument and Castle Rock a brief phone conversation with a friend closed with, "Drive safely."

My response: "No, I'd rather drive crazy."

"Okay then drive crazy-safe."

"All right, I can do that."

This is not from today, but my favorite bumper sticker to-date read: Don't drink and park, accidents cause children.

I get a kick out of...

2010-10-04T17:27:00.001-06:00

Going to work with bed-head hair (go to bed with it wet, wake up and do everything except fix hair before heading out the door).
Cooking

lentil soup with tender roasted pork
turmeric and red pepper chicken over spicy black beans and rice with monterey jack cheese melted on top

Laughing at customers instead of getting impatient (not to their faces).
Free tickets to pre-viewings of movies.
Buying people small gifts just 'cause.
Salty-caramel ice cream from Pajama Baking Company.
The moment when I drop letters off in the post office box.
The "Learn to Speak Welsh" book on the counter at Sojourner's Coffee (new favorite... they serve Novo and Coda coffee!)
Humanity

Words that have made their way under my skin:

2010-10-01T23:18:00.005-06:00

"I believe that no matter who gets elected, for a healthy society to work we need help that politics alone cannot supply. As the contemporary German philosopher Jürgen Habernas expressed it, 'Democracy requires of its citizens qualities it cannot provide.' Politicians may conjure an exalted vision of a prosperous, healthy and free society, but no government can supply the qualities of honesty, compassion and personal responsibility that must under-gird it." -Philip Yancey, What Good is God (to be released 10/19/2010).

Since reading these words several weeks ago, they've come to mind for consideration many times. Of the tangents my thoughts have followed (mostly colored by my general distaste for politics), one line re-occurs: If, as I believe, my greatest responsibility and power to affect lies in how I interact with people on a daily basis and if a society is only as sound as the character of its people, how am I going actively value high quality of character in the corner of society where I negotiate my life, today?

(P.S. I think perhaps the greatest indicator of the quality of a person's character is the degree to which they live with integrity: Are a person's actions consistent with what they value/what they long to see realized in their life? -Or do his/her actions constantly contradict and or thwart the realization of what they value and long for?)

Mug

2010-09-27T14:38:00.000-06:00

Yesterday afternoon I bought a new to-go mug. I thought it was a good design meaning primarily that it had a simple lid. -Not one of those lids with so many crevices that you're pretty sure your chances of finding a penguin in the Sahara are higher than your chances of getting that lid completely clean. This mug can fit in my car's cup-holder, hold 16 ounces, has a trim appearance and can be a tool towards using fewer of the planet's resources. All the same, when I woke up this morning I didn't like it. The truth is I don't want coffee to-go. I want want coffee to-stay... preferably for a few hours with a pen in hand and a journal or stationary to scribble over. Visiting a coffee shop is like a mini-vacation for me, one I make a point to take once a week (and only once a week since my wallet has me on rations) for the price of a latte.

I'm returning the to-go mug this afternoon and will be taking my own travel-unfriendly handle for those times I want a hot beverage somewhere outside of home.

A night for the floor, apparently:

2010-09-23T00:23:00.002-06:00

One woman sat in the corner where we have our Colorado history, photo-essay and guide books to meditate; lotus position, eyes closed, oming it out.

Date night in the children's department included one couple making out in the juvenile science corner and another couple leaning against the shelves in young readers, the girl hugging the large stuffed Classic Pooh-Bear.

One man sprawled on the tiles next to the magazines, head propped on one elbow to read his choice of periodical.

A woman in front of the SAT study resources lay flat on her back, feet on a shelf, arms stretched above her to hold her book.

I know B&N is a pretty relaxed atmosphere and the floors get vacuumed or mopped every morning, but really?

"Don't hope more than you work." -Beryl Markham

2010-09-23T00:09:00.000-06:00

I'm not trying to scare anyone, but when I was driving back from Salida this past Monday, I picked up a hitch-hiker. When I told a friend about it, he asked (a.) was I scared when I did it and (b.) why did I do it. I've done it before and I'm always a tad nervous. As to why I do it; well, I want this to be a world where someone can ask for a ride or give a ride without being in danger. Hoping for something I'm not willing to contribute towards... lame.

By the way, the hitch-hiker (I think he said his name is Caillen) manages a piece of farmland in Sawatch County and he was on his way to celebrate a friend's birthday in Breckenridge.

A very abbreviated version of my long weekend.

2010-09-21T00:13:00.004-06:00

I had a long weekend which I spent camping, visiting the FH and then lounging around Salida. I hadn't planned on going alone, but that's they way it worked out. Given the options of either going alone or not going at all... well, it's obvious which I chose. Life is short. Here is some of what I saw:

View from a random by-road I took when looking for a camp-site.

Altura Reservoir. (The marsh-grass was really that red.)

Watching the day fade.

Camping neighbors, their fire and the almost full moon.

The west face of Pikes Peak on the drive back.

The things you might hear...

2010-09-11T23:45:00.002-06:00

...were you to work at Barnes and Noble:

Mother to young son in restroom: That was a nice pee! Wave goodbye to it! It's going to the rivers and the oceans!

Young girl to mother in restroom: Mom, please don't flush me.

Customer to one of my coworkers: I'm looking for a little brown book by Alexander Dumas. It's his new one.

Me to customer when not able to locate the book she wants (she's a professor, trying to buy the text she is suppose to teach on in class the next night): I can check to see if another location has it and have it held for you.
Customer: No, it's too late for that.
Me to co-worker: K, what time is it? (Asking sincerely. I had no idea.)
K: 8:00
Me to customer: Well, all of our locations are open until 10:00.
Customer (with attitude): But this (points to self) closes at 9:00.

Customer: I'm looking for a book. I don't know the name or the author, but it was on display at one of your other stores. It's blue.
With my internal dialog/reaction: I'm looking for a book (You don't say.) I don't know the name or the author (one eye-brow wants to raise), but it was on display at on of your other stores (No help). It's blue. (I want to bury my head in my hands. Instead, I walk to self-improvement, pull a blue book titled Aspire off the shelf and ask, "Is this it?" It was.)

Little boy to dad after making life difficult for dad: Dad, am I crazy?
Dad (faking sincerity): Yep, you're crazy.
Boy (earnestly): No, I'm not, Dad. I'm not crazy.
Boy just a minute later: Dad, am I crazy?
Dad: Yep, you're crazy.
Boy (more earnestly): No, I'm not, Dad. I'm not crazy!

How would my life be different if...

2010-09-10T00:23:00.007-06:00

...every time I start to think about something I'd like to do in my life, I take a step (no matter how small) toward getting it done?

It's been a re-occurring consideration the past two days. Change is blowing my way.

Purple Eats

2010-09-08T23:50:00.001-06:00

The color of the seasonal fruit (and veg) that made it into our kitchen this week is deep purple. I don't know if this particular hue suggests specific health benefits, but I'm gonna go with it because it's all pretty delicious.

The figs and plums have been my favorite. We had a fig tree at the camp where I grew up so I have memories of hunting through the leaves for ripe fruit and eating it on the spot. The texture is unusual, I admit, but you won't hear me complaining. Something about them ties to decadence. Yum.

New favorite thing for breakfast: whole wheat toast, spread with soft goat cheese and drizzled with honey (it tastes better when I get to eat it out on the patio). Maybe I should have been Greek. -Or maybe I should just visit Greece.

Accept

2010-09-07T16:00:00.003-06:00

I need these words to rattle around my soul until they etch into its walls; imprinting their freedom from guilt and ought into the convictions of my being.

Wild Geese

You do not have to be good.
You do not have to walk on your knees
for a hundred miles through the desert, repenting.
You only have to let the soft animal of your body
love what it loves.
Tell me about despair, yours, and I will tell you mine.
Meanwhile the world goes on.
Meanwhile the sun and the clear pebbles of the rain
are moving across the landscapes,
over the prairies and the deep trees,
the mountains and the rivers,
Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air,
are heading home again.
Whoever you are, no matter how lonely,
the world offers itself to your imagination,
calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting -
over and over announcing your place
in the family of things.

~Mary Oliver

Escape- the kind that gives perspective and leaves you in better form to carry on

2010-09-01T22:25:00.001-06:00

I was out of sorts with my life this morning so come afternoon -the two o'clock hour to be specific- I hied my long lithe self out of doors to spots only animals usually see these days. (My thirty-two and three quarters of a year-old body still feels lithe.) I crossed and recrossed streams, sat where an elk or deer had lain just recently, its scent still on the flattened grass, and said things to the wind that I daren't say to other flesh. I walked through grass tall enough to brush my swinging hands, took note of some sort of purple flower budding out of its bulb in marshy spots, and watched a hawk loft. Sun dappled through aspens, cottonwood, willow and fir onto water or the still-green summer grass. My camera lay on the floor in the guest room that's typically mine when I'm at the FH, but I couldn't be sorry for I don't think I could have caught what I saw the way my memory sees it now. I walked fallen logs, washed my grass-itchy limbs in the creek, and stepped over barbed-wire fences. A small thrush flew out of grass nests just a few steps in front of me, small trout darted in and out of creek-shade and I traced those bare lines which costume as trails, but fade almost as soon as they start, leading to places we don't bother marking on maps. I didn't shed my griefs, but returned to the house on better terms with them.

A few hours later, I went back outside, this time with my camera. What I caught then isn't what I'd seen earlier in the day, but it has some of the same heart:

A favorite place:

2010-08-28T21:47:00.001-06:00

This is one of my favorite places on the planet. The air is clean, it's stunning, you can see millions of stars at night, it's quiet (except for the wind and animals) and only about 3,000 people live in the general vicinity. It's where I grew up. It's where I go for most holidays. It's one of the places I go to get away. It's the Wet Mountain Valley and I spent last night and most of today there with family and a friend. If you get to visit one day, you can count yourself among the fortunate.

Heels

2010-08-23T22:26:00.004-06:00

This may well be one of the most superficial and gender-specific blogs I will ever write. That being said, today, I watched a smartly dressed woman botch her self-carriage because she couldn't manage her 3 1/2 inch heels. While 3 1/2 inches of heel is a lot of additional height, I've seen plenty of women unable to negotiate even 2 inches.

From observation I think most women aren't aware there is a right and wrong way to wear heels. -Or maybe somewhere along the line they heard whispers that there was such a thing, but never bothered to find out more. I started having an affinity for high heels when I was about 23, but rarely wore them. Then I lived in Korea for a year and now most days I'll wear them as readily as any other shoe. I think I learned to walk in them correctly because when I didn't know, wearing high heels felt so very awkward.

I realize there are plenty of women who are only willing to wear high heels under duress, but just like it's nice to be able to eat at a five star restaurant without making a fool of yourself, I think it's an asset to know how to wear heels well. That way, if there's a time when you need to (such as if you're a bridesmaid asked to wear a strappy high heeled sandal), you don't have to dread it. If you're going to wear heels, you might as well be classy about it. Besides, if you walk in them wrong:

they can make your feet, knees, hips, ankles and/or back hurt.
your hips will have an awkward hinge-caught moment in every step.
your steps will sound extra-clacky (two for every single step) if you're on a hard surface.
your butt will stick out weird when you walk.

, but if you walk in them right:

you can still have a smooth gait.
your posture can be good/normal.
your back, hips, knees, ankles and feet will hurt much less if they hurt at all.
each step will only sound one beat instead of two (because toe and heal hit almost at the same time).
it's one more way you'll be lady-like.

It takes a little getting used to/practice, but it's not really all that difficult. If you are in heels two inches or taller just make sure that the ball of your foot hits before your heel. I've also heard it described as "leading with the front of your foot" (as opposed to having your toes pointed up as you take a step, they will point down). That's it! Please, please, please be one more woman in this world who knows how to wear her high heels.

Appreciation, participation, consumption.

2010-08-20T02:01:00.005-06:00

by a favorite Korean illustrator of mine, Park Man Hee (mani)

Simple, observant appreciation lets the subject still exist as it is.

Wise participation can enhance and make the subject more appreciable! -While unwise participation will either diminish or destroy.

Consumption will always decimate the inherent characteristics of the subject.

True of people... relationships
of beauty
yes, of our resources
of almost anything we would pour ourselves into
and of almost anything we would ask to have given to us.

How much attention am I willing to pay to how I take part?

Recent Eats

2010-08-17T21:18:00.000-06:00

I've been enjoying cooking and baking again. Emily asked me last night, "Is cooking therapeutic for you?"
Yes, the answer is definitely yes.
Today, I finally realized what's been missing from my spaghetti sauce: thyme!

These are some of the things I've made this week. Both recipes are my own:

Carrot, Onion and Cilantro Soup
Chop 1 1/2 large onions (white if you don't want it as sweet) and sauté in 2 TB olive oil with 1 TB turmeric and 1 tsp black pepper until almost caramelized.
Add 1/4 cup chopped fresh cilantro, stir in and allow to get hot, quickly.
Add 2 lbs carrots (sliced) and enough water to completely cover all ingredients.
Add 1 tsp salt.
Cook with lid on until carrots are soft, stirring occasionally. You may need to add more water. (This takes at least an hour at altitude.)
Remove from heat. Puree with hand blender, blender or food processor.
Add one cup plain yogurt (it cuts the sweetness of the carrots).

I finish mine with a drizzle of olive oil after I served it. It can be eaten hot or cold. It's also tasty to melt in a couple of triangles of Laughing Cow cheese along with the yogurt.

Chocolate Chip Cookies Preheat oven to 350; makes 40-45 cookies
Cream:
3/4 cup butter (not margarine!!!)
1/4 cup oil
3/4 cup brown sugar (packed)
3/4 cup granulated sugar

In your 1/4 measuring cup dissolve together
1 TB milk
1 tsp baking soda
1/2 tsp salt
1 tsp vanilla
and add to batter along with 2 eggs.
Mix well.

Add 2 1/2 to 3 cups unbleached flour (dough shouldn't stick to your finger when you touch it) and stir completely.
Stir in 2 cups semi-sweet chocolate chips.

Spoon drop, roll or use a small ice-cream scoop to put on cookie sheet (approx 1 inch diameter, 2 inches between). Bake for 8 minutes and remove from tray promptly (I let them cool on a clean kitchen counter).

Start with now.

2010-08-05T23:47:00.001-06:00

I just finished watching Terminator Salvation and appreciate Danny Elfman's work on soundtracks (The Kingdom is another one of his projects).

I haven't felt myself in the last weeks and public forums of communication are particularly difficult when I ache for presence and intimacy. It's one of the reasons I haven't been able to write here though I know that those who go out of their way to read this are those who know me a little better than others and care more. It's also the reason why I'm taking a hiatus from facebook.

It's been interesting (? maybe not quite the right adjective) to see who is filling the gap(s) for me right now. I couldn't have anticipated those of you who have been the greatest strength and comfort to me in the past weeks. Thank you.

When I consider those who have been surprisingly absent... I try to tell myself that maybe they will be "there" for someone else at another time, that this just isn't their moment. That internal dialogue only works part of the time and I wonder what the future of those relationships will be. I can't stomach allowing that line of thought for very long.

Thank you especially to those of you who have been persistent. The ones who keep calling even though I'm terrible at phone communication.

This week I feel as if I were moving forward a bit more. I've finally caught up with Christy and Nathan (via phone), met with one friend (Robin), saw Jason and Jeanette, today, and will see Norine on Saturday. I've written a few letters this week and hope to put the finishing touches on at least three more letters before the week ends.

I'll need outside help to work through several aspects of what I'm processing these days. Some of the pain from difficult things I've experienced in past years is piggy-backing onto the fresh grief from my dad's death. I don't think I have the tools to deal with all of it on my own. Do I state the obvious when I write that it's difficult to put any of this into words? As I don't know how to deal with what is happening to me, neither do I know what to suggest when other's ask what they can do.

The day my dad died I told friend, "I'm not very good at being helpless."
His response: "That's why it's called 'helpless'".
I think he had a point.

This day was better:

2010-07-23T22:52:00.002-06:00

-And by better, I simply mean less difficult than all the other days between my last post and this one during which I was struggling to function with the wrenching grief in my gut. I'm trying not to fold in on myself. Hence...

It was hot out, today, and I love the heat. I laughed with friends while I worked. I was off work at a reasonable time (3:00pm) and spent the first hour afterwards sitting on a patio, drinking an iced latte talking amiably with an acquaintance and a stranger. I went swimming in 5:00 shade until I was worn out -that was my aim. I cooked (rump roast marinated and shaved the night before simmered with roasted red peppers, turmeric and paprika; roasted zucchini and rice made with thyme and chive (thyme from my own plant) and ate on the back porch with my roommate. Then I made sugar cookies, tweaking the recipe a bit. They're good. I think the next batch I will be able to perfect the recipe absolutely. Finally, I watched Julie and Julia; a pleasant surprise (I'd heard good things about it, but had my doubts). Now I'm ready to sleep.

P.S. Friends (and brother) who have called: I really will call you back.

Right this instant:

2010-07-12T23:03:00.000-06:00

exhaustion
sun-bleached hair
a sore and hungry heart
wearing dad's old tee-shirts to bed
so many things that need to be accomplished in the next weeks that they are overwhelming if I think of them all at once
an uneasy stomach
having my heart lifted just by the thought of certain friends
knowing that I accomplished a good deal, today
an inner amen to believing that Truth is not ambiguous, but certain and clear
feeling conflict between daily joy and the undercurrent of sadness of missing my dad (see "sore heart")
dream-building and opening one eye toward adventure

My dad

2010-07-03T23:26:00.001-06:00

Yesterday around noon, my brother, Nathan, called me at work to tell me that Dad had died. He was mowing the lawn when his heart stopped. We know now that his heart stopped suddenly due to heart enlargement caused by high blood-pressure (a consequence of coronary heart disease). Those are the logistics. Walking around the property today, sitting with my family (my brothers came in around 2:00 this morning) and receiving so many well-wished today I haven't been thinking so much about logistics as much as just wanting to look at him and tell him, again, that I love him.

We'll have a memorial service at 2:00 on Tuesday afternoon at our family home. It will be open to the community.

His brothers and sister along with many of their kids are coming in the next two days. When everyone else has left, I want to sit and listen to their stories about him, to laugh together, and to know together who he was/is.

Do I have any regrets? Today, I've had one. I had gone out to sit by the creek to write for a little while and be on my own. (I haven't been on my own much in the past 36 hours.) While I was out there I thought about how much he loved being out there clearing the brush, mowing, paying attention to the sky or just sitting to think, pray and take it all in. There were many times when he invited me to enjoy it, too, with or without him. My regret was that I hadn't taken him up on his invitations more often.

I have no rosy notions of my dad's perfection, but I do have a very firm knowledge that he loved me and that his love was full of grace for my own imperfections. He spoke my language and I spoke his. I'll miss sharing that language. He had learned to be unabashed in his enthusiasm for me since I returned from Korea and I'll miss how he would hold me when I came or left on a visit. I think my own grieving will be in short moments of remembering these small ways that I knew my dad. -Remembrances that are without monument, but which solidify his place in my heart, his ways of being in my life. I miss him. I love him.

Jolly Tuesday

2010-06-30T01:35:00.004-06:00

Oi vey. I'm seeing the early morning hours again. When I'm just getting off work at 11:00 it usually takes a bit of time to wind down. Last night I wound down by reading through Morpheus Road; The Light (by MacHale). Tonight's decompression tool is the web.

What today held: Lots of sleep after staying up to finish reading the book. I worked out this afternoon before work, made a BLT for lunch and learned that three of the sockets in the kitchen are linked... and that having my computer, the wi-fi modem, toaster oven and microwave running at once will blow the circuit. It's nice that the electricians were smart enough to put the low sockets (oven and refrigerator) and lights on a different breaker. Work from 2:30 to 11:00ish.

Mom was in Denver this afternoon to pick up Dad from the airport (he's been in Washington the past few weeks taking care of his dad) and stopped by to visit at work. I shifted my "lunch" break so I could have a little more time with her. We sat outside and caught up while I ate my dinner. Seeing her made such a pleasant difference in my day. She topped her visit by leaving Hot Tamales and Haribo gummy bears waiting on the passenger seat of my car for me to find when I got off work. My mom is great.

Other things I liked about the day: Looking at an intricate pop-up edition of Peter-Pan with a little girl (three or four years old) named Hannah. Running around the store barefoot after we'd closed (shhh, don't tell OSHA). Going sleeveless until the last available minute before my shift started. Laughing with Jake, Kevin, Pat and Parker at different points in the day. Hearing Becky (one of my managers) call me "sweetie". Getting Mom-hugs. The tastiness of puffy Cheetos. Helping a customer save$20-$80 (because she can download Shakespeare's complete works for free on her Nook). Seeing that the moon is waning during my drive home and being glad because I know I'll sleep more soundly (I often have funky dreams when the moon is full or close to full). Speaking of sleep....

Sunday with Tra'Cee

2010-06-27T23:07:00.000-06:00

Tra'Cee came to visit today! She arrived around 11:00, just after I'd finished taking some time apart at Wash Park. She joined me exploring the Pearl Street Farmer's Market for the first time, eating lunch at Park Burger, walking through a local park, doing a bit of nothing back at the house (nothing made us both want naps) and checking out City Park Jazz Night where we met up with two of my co-workers. A day of a lot of sunshine, a little rain, a little hail, a good companion and just enough people watching. Thanks, Trace!

Vignet I

2010-06-26T22:08:00.001-06:00

Most awkward customer interaction (to date):

Customer in his mid to late sixties: So I haven't seen you in a while.
Me: I've been busy moving this past week.
Customer (slightly alarmed): You're moving!?
Me (nonchalant): Yeah, I already moved... just to another place in the area.
Customer: I wish you hadn't done that.
Me (bewildered): Why not?
Customer (wistful): Because I'd like a roommate.
Me (appalled): I wouldn't be comfortable with that.
Customer: Well... I guess it does take time to become friends...

I shake my head and immediately find a reason to be elsewhere.

Yeesh!

Lazy evening

2010-06-25T19:28:00.000-06:00

Phew! 4 1/2 hrs sleep is not enough and, now that I'm sitting down, the wall that I've been skirting all day can no longer be avoided. Here's to leftovers and a movie.

The most ambitious things my evening will hold:

potting the three herbs I purchased this afternoon (oregano, lavender and thyme)
folding all the laundry waiting on my bed.

It was hot, today, but now a cool storm system has swooped in on all that heat. Methinks tornado weather is brewing. I think I'll like cloud-watching while there's still light.

Dinner: Chicken paella (thanks, Em!) and fresh vegetables with a glass of the Beringer from last night. Oh, and I have pain au chocolate for desert which I picked up yesterday from Jason and Jeanette's recently opened bakery, the Wooden Spoon! That will go well with the wine. Yum.

A Summer Evening's Passing

2010-06-25T01:48:00.000-06:00

I managed to get my bookshelves put together, tonight. I picked them up at World Market this afternoon in hopes that they would provide enough space to do away with all and any boxes remaining on the floor in my room or in the trunk of my car. I really probably only need one, but thought that in the long run (down-the-road-thinking) I would be glad for a complementing set. I can't call them a match because one has two shelves while the other has six. They are assembled, they are in my room and they have "stuff" on them. I think I might even be able to take a few more boxes of books out of my closet at the FH.

After cleaning up post-assembly (which meant walking through knee-high sprinklers on my way to the dumpsters), I allowed myself the looked-for luxury of a glass of wine on the back porch, peering past nearly full moonshine to the stars. The Beringer Estate 2007, Cabernet Sauvignon wasn't anything to boast about, but I managed to find Hercules, Bootes, Draco's head, and my very own Scorpio swinging through the night. The smoke grey neighborhood prowler occasionally activated the motion-sensor lights near the electrical box, 225 traffic whirred behind me and the night sky floated past unfettered by what we might worry over. I, in my own meager way, gave thanks that there is a grander work going on than my small accomplishments or notices.

1:30 and it's time I visited my pillow. After-all, the carpet still needs vacuuming before Emily's return tomorrow evening. Goodnight.

Tonight's feature:

2008-03-25T19:14:00.001-06:00

I'm making French Onion soup, tonight! It's one of my favorite soups. Caramelize a mix of yellow and purple onions in butter (at least 6). Add beef broth, salt, pepper, garlic (just a smidgen) and a touch of white wine. Then, serve topped with french bread melted over with parmesan.

I haven't cooked for a while and to do it again feels good.