Pathways {Poetry}

Tuesday, April 5, 2016 Photography, Poetry Tuesday No tags Permalink

Understand, I’ll slip quietly
away from the noisy crowd
when I see the pale
stars rising, blooming, over the oaks.

I’ll pursue solitary pathways
through the pale twilit meadows,
with only this one dream:

You come too.

-Rainer Maria Rilke

imageI have a framed copy of this photo hanging in my house. I took this about 7 or 8 years ago at Crown Hill Cemetary.  It was one of my favorite places to wander. It’s an oasis of calm in the middle of the city and its oddly beautiful, or at least it is to me. I’m one who loves to “slip quietly away from the noisy crowd” from time to time. It’s a pleasure I’ve recently re-discovered.

You come too.

What’s What

Sunday, April 3, 2016 Uncategorized No tags Permalink

What I’m Reading: I have at least a half dozen books right now. I just started the novel A Tale for the Time Being by Ruth Ozeki.  It is a rich reflection on what it means to be human in an era of short attention spans, the dearth of meaning, and imminent environmental threat.

The time being: the present moment is what we’re stuck with now and must embrace. The time being: in the Buddhist viewpoint, each human is entrapped by time, which means that we are all in this together; this is a tale of everyone.

On present-day Vancouver Island, “Ruth,” a Japanese-American novelist who is attempting to write a memoir of her mother’s slow demise from Alzheimer’s but has a bad case of writer’s block, stumbles across a Hello Kitty lunchbox washed up on the beach. Inside she finds a cache of old letters and a teenage girl’s diary, disguised as a copy of Marcel Proust’s À la recherche du temps perdu.

The diary belonged to sixteen-year-old Nao ) Yasutani, who cheerfully and informally confides in her imagined reader about her life. The past few years in Tokyo have not been easy for her – she’s been the victim of extreme bullying at the hands of her classmates, and suicide seems to run in the family – but she has a guardian angel in the form of her great-grandmother, Buddhist nun Jiko, who is approaching death at age 104 but still represents the voice of wisdom and a timeless perspective.

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What I’m Watching: I’m a bit late to the game, but I just binge-watched Grantchester this weekend.

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While pasty blond blue eyed guys aren’t my thing, James Norton is a fantastic actor. He plays an excellent bad guy in Happy Valley (also a wonderful show) so I wasn’t sure how he’d be as a Vicar in the 1950s.  Norton pulls it off with aplomb. I’m happy that season 2 just started on PBS here in the U.S.

What I’m Listening To:  My son got me into Audible. I’m currently listening to The Great Courses Maya to Aztec: Ancient Mesoamerica Revealed. I’m a history buff, but I’m learning a lot. I try to listen at work, but I’m constantly interrupted. One of my co-workers asked if I was listening to it for a class. She couldn’t believe I wanted to learn about it just because I find it interesting. Yeah, I’m a nerd. 🙂

What I’m Wearing: I thought it was supposed to be spring? Ha! I’m freezing today. Dark jeans, warm socks, a black tee, and a thick gray sweater. I’m going for warmth, not cute.

What I’m Eating: I just roasted a chicken and I polished off about half of it.  What can I say, lifting makes me hungry!

What I’m Enjoying: The warm, fuzzy blanket I just pulled over me and the beautiful blooming orchid on the table next to me.

What I’m Sniffing: I’m making a big pot of chicken stock from the carcass of aforementioned chicken. Later this week I’ll make soup.

I Don’t Want To Be Demure Or Respectable {Poetry}

Tuesday, March 29, 2016 Photography, Poetry, Poetry Tuesday No tags Permalink

I DON’T WANT TO BE DEMURE OR RESPECTABLE

I don’t want to be demure or respectable.
I was that way, asleep, for years.
That way, you forget too many important things.
How the little stones, even if you can’t hear them, are singing.
How the river can’t wait to get to the ocean and the sky, it’s been there before.
What traveling is that!
It is a joy to imagine such distances.
I could skip sleep for the next hundred years.
There is a fire in the lashes of my eyes.
It doesn’t matter where I am, it could be a small room.
The glimmer of gold Böhme saw on the kitchen pot
was missed by everyone else in the house.

Maybe the fire in my lashes is a reflection of that.
Why do I have so many thoughts, they are driving me crazy.
Why am I always going anywhere, instead of somewhere?
Listen to me or not, it hardly matters.
I’m not trying to be wise, that would be foolish.
I’m just chattering

-Mary Oliver

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Year ago I gave up trying to be wise, demure, or respectable, and I am much happier for it. When I stopped caring so much about what other people think of me, I became much more genuine. I’m not asleep anymore.

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All 4 Me

Sunday, March 27, 2016 Fitness, Food, Life, Recipe, Thinking No tags Permalink

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People often say to me, ” I bet you don’t eat a thing.” Ha! Quite the opposite. I’m usually hungry and eat all day long. A few weeks ago I started going weekly meal prep, so I have all my lunches and smacks ready to go and I just have to grab it on the way out the door. One f m new favorites is a take on dirty rice:

Measure 1 cup of brown rice, 2 cups of water, and 1 tablespoon of olive oil into a medium pot. Bring pot to a rolling boil over high heat. Once boiling, reduce the heat to low, cover and simmer (without opening) for 40 minutes, making sure the water hasn’t all evaporated.

Dice a red onion, finely chop 8 cloves of garlic, and slice 4 scallions. Cook vegetables with 2 tablespoons of olive oil in a large skillet over medium heat. Add 1 pound ground turkey and cook for about 10 minutes until browned, stirring and breaking up chunks with a spoon. Add diced red pepper and yellow pepper, season with garlic powder, thyme, chili powder, cinnamon, cumin, cayenne, salt, and pepper to taste and cook for a few minutes longer. Stir in half a bunch of cilantro, finely chopped. Stir in cooked brown rice and adjust seasonings to taste.

Yum!

Continue Reading…

Rumi (for Coleman Barks) {Poetry}

Tuesday, March 22, 2016 Photography, Poetry Tuesday No tags Permalink

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When Rumi went into the tavern
I followed.
I heard a lot of crazy talk
and a lot of wise talk.

But the roses wouldn’t grow in my hair.

When Rumi left the tavern
I followed.
I don’t mean just to pick at
such a famous fellow.
Indeed he was rather ridiculous with his
long beard and his dusty feet.
But I heard less of the crazy talk and
a lot more of the wise talk and I was
hopeful enough to keep listening

until the day I found myself
transformed into an entire garden
of roses.

– Mary Oliver
from Blue Horses: Poems

This poem was dedicated to Coleman Barks, the poet responsible for interpreting many of Rumi’s works, and paying homage to the great Sufi mystic. For those who read poetry as soul food, to have Oliver writing about Rumi is undoubtedly the jewel in the crown. Oliver doesn’t disappoint, speaking words at the heart of every Rumi enthusiast and capturing his effect on readers with an honesty and simplicity that only a Mary Oliver poem can deliver.

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Break Your Ropes

Sunday, March 20, 2016 Books, Poetry, Thinking No tags Permalink

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To Be A Slave Of Intensity

Friend, hope for the guest while you are alive.
Jump into experience while you are alive!
Think…and think…while you are alive.
What you call ‘salvation’ belongs to the time before death.

If you don’t break your ropes while you’re alive,
do you think
ghosts will do it after?

The idea that the soul will join with the ecstatic
Just because the body is rotten –
that is all fantasy.
What is found now is found then.
If you find nothing now,
you will simply end up with an apartment in the City of Death.
If you make love with the divine now, in the next life you will have the face of satisfied desire.

So plunge into the truth, find out who the Teacher is,
Believe in the Great Sound!

Kabir says this: When the guest is being searched for, it is the intensity of the longing for the Guest that does all the work.
Look at me, and you will see a slave of that intensity.

Kabir

Methods are strategies, and strategies do not open the heart’s door. It has to be blown open by a great wind, the wind of love, which is the only thing that will truly carry you away. Kabir tells us to jump, to break your ropes, to plunge into the truth. This is all you can do when you have come to the end of your rope, to the end of all your strategies, and don’t know what else to do. It is a surrender, a falling in; not an act or an initiative, but a willing yielding to what is and has always been.

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Dazzle of the Day { Poetry}

Tuesday, March 15, 2016 Photography, Poetry, Poetry Tuesday Permalink

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Enough now of the wet eyes of winter.
Not one single tear.
Hour by hour, green is beginning,
the essential season, leaf by leaf,
until, by spring’s name, we are summoned
to take part in its joy.

How wonderful, its eternal openness,
clean air, the promise of flower,
the full moon leaving
its calling card in the foliage,
men and women trailing from the beach
with a wet basket of shifting silver.

Like love, like a medal,
I welcome it,
I take it all in,
from south, from north, from violins,
from dogs,
lemons, clay,
from newly liberated air,
machines smelling of mystery,
storm-colored shopping,
everything I need:
orange blossoms, string,
grapes like topazes,
the whiff of waves.
I gather it up
endlessly,
effortlessly,
I breathe.

I dry my shirt in the wind,
and my opened heart.
The sky falls
and falls.
From my glass,
I drink
pure joy.

~ Pablo Neruda

Leave it to Neruda to describe exactly how I feel when spring arrives!  Pure joy.  Yes.  When I was young I had a teacher who said that our blood thinned out in the spring.  That was her way of explaining spring fever.  I do know that I feel different in the spring, and I want to take it all in.

I took the photo above one spring several years ago.  I love to go exploring and see what gifts are awaiting me.

If I Wanted a Boat { Poetry}

Tuesday, March 8, 2016 Family, Learning, Photography, Poetry, Poetry Tuesday, Thinking No tags Permalink

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I would want a boat, if I wanted a

boat, that bounded hard on the waves,

that didn’t know starboard from port

and wouldn’t learn, that welcomed

dolphins and headed straight for the

whales, that, when rocks were close,

would slide in for a touch or two,

that wouldn’t keep land in sight and

went fast, that leaped into the spray.

What kind of life is it always to plan

and do, to promise and finish, to wish

for the near and the safe? Yes, by the

heavens, if I wanted a boat I would want

a boat I couldn’t steer.

-Mary Oliver

Each time I try to take control, steering and holding on too tightly, I get lost. It’s so easy to want to steer every moment, every direction in life, to feel safe and secure in where we are headed. Or even, for the more relaxed among us, who steer our life more generally, allowing for a few false starts and leeward winds – to fix our eyes unwaveringly on the distant goal, the aim, the ever-moving target.

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Meditation is a practice in letting go. In meditation, a thousand things arise, and we let them go Or at least we try to let them go. 😉

Why practice letting go? Polly Young-Eisendrath made the following point about practicing mindfulness, but it applies to letting go as well:

“The reason for learning… is not so that you can sit around and meditate. It’s like when you learn to drive a car in a parking lot. It’s not so you can drive that car in parking lots. You learn in the parking lot because it’s a restricted, safe area. When you [meditate] it’s like learning to drive in the parking lot. Then, in time, you take the car out onto the highway…. Practice is cultivated in order to get around in life….”

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In Case of Emergency

Sunday, March 6, 2016 Learning No tags Permalink

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I was amazed to learn how many patients are brought in to the ER and there’s  no way of knowing who they are or how to contact their next of kin. And their phones are locked!

Many people don’t realize that you can set up something called a “Medical ID” on your iPhone if you have the “Health” app (free with phone). This information can be accessed even while the phone is locked by clicking on the emergency options and can display things like name, DOB, emergency contacts, medical conditions and even blood type and donor status. You can even add notes.

The Medical ID feature is built in to the new Health application found in iOS 8  and above. Users can configure it by launching Health, tapping the Medical ID menu in the bottom right, and then choosing “Create Medical ID.”

iPhone users with a passcode-locked handset can consider enabling the “Show When Locked” function, providing first responders or anyone else with emergency access to their Medical ID. Enabling this feature allows the Medical ID to be viewed by swiping the lock screen, tapping “Emergency,” and then viewing the digital information.

The Guest House {Poetry}

Tuesday, March 1, 2016 Learning, Life, Poetry Tuesday No tags Permalink

 

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This being human is a guest house.
Every morning a new arrival.
A joy, a depression, a meanness,
some momentary awareness comes
as an unexpected visitor.
Welcome and entertain them all!
Even if they are a crowd of sorrows,
who violently sweep your house
empty of its furniture,
still, treat each guest honorably.
He may be clearing you out
for some new delight.
The dark thought, the shame, the malice.
meet them at the door laughing and invite them in.
Be grateful for whatever comes.
because each has been sent
as a guide from beyond.
— Jellaludin Rumi,
translation by Coleman Barks

In The Guest House Rumi is telling us that the entirety of human experience is valuable. None of it is to be discounted as unnecessary or even avoidable. All emotions are valid and indeed desirable, even those we wish to evade. One moment is joyful, another is depressing , even unkind thoughts demand attention. Accept and honor them all, he says, because each portends a new state of being. Each is the portal to new awareness. Accepting each state is accepting the entirety of one’s being. The shadow and the light carry equal weight.

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Throwback Thursday

Thursday, February 25, 2016 Family, Life, Love No tags Permalink

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I came across this picture recently and noted on the back that the date was 1996.  In my mind, the 90s weren’t that long ago. And then it dawned on me that it was 20 years ago. Twenty years?! How can that be? Honestly, when I look at Ian now, I still see this little boy, just a lot bigger. 🙂 it dawned on me that maybe my own parents still see me as the little girl I was, and that helps me understand them so much more.

I count myself as so lucky to be this cutie’s mom. The doctors told me that I would most likely never have children. I love kids, and would’ve had more if I could have.  My son and I were both lucky to have survived his delivery, and the doctors said I may not be so lucky the next time. So, I count my blessings and thank God every day for my son. Maybe, just maybe, someday I’ll have grandbabies. Hey, I’d be happy with step-grand-babies.  It’s weird to think that my son is the same age as I was when he was born.

 

Separation {Poetry}

Tuesday, February 23, 2016 Poetry Tuesday No tags Permalink

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Your absence has gone through me
Like thread through a needle.
Everything I do is stitched with its color.

-W. S. Merwin

In such a brief poem, Merwin captures the relentless associations of being apart from a loved one. They are not only visceral, but tangible. The reverberations of absence refuse to be contained in the mind and forcibly permeate the senses. Merwin’s longing is a synesthetic one, simultaneously visual and palpable. As the needle stitches, it colors as well; it is impossible to separate one from the other.

W.S. Merwin does not explain longing; his poem merely asserts it. The adorable is what is adorable. Or: I adore you because you are adorable, I love you because I love you. “Separation” is likewise a tautology. It says ‘I miss you because I miss you.’ When I miss you, I do not focus on the variety of reasons behind that sensation, but rather the simple fact: I miss you.

Tiny Living

Thursday, February 18, 2016 Learning, Life, Love, Music, Thinking No tags Permalink

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I am so enamored with this tiny house. I want one just like it (except in my decorating style) someplace outside the city. I want peace and quiet and the privacy to sit in my bathrobe (or less) and sip my morning cup of tea on the back patio in the warm morning sunshine.  I want a little garden so I can grow my own fresh veggies and herbs and the rest of the yard can be wild flowers or other naturalized growth. Grass is a waste of resources and energy. I want bird feeders so I can watch the birds as I sip the aforementioned tea.  I want books and bubble baths.  Long bicycle rides and sunset walks. The only extravagance I’d add would be a jacuzzi on the patio. Because have ever soaked in the hot water on a cool evening and just watched the stars up in the sky? It’s amazing. 

I don’t want to sit in an office all day for the rest of my life.  It’s slowly sucking away my soul. While I am good at what I do, I don’t like it. I find no satisfaction in it.  What’s that line from a song? “I have seen your nine to fives wash away your dreams.”

I’d rather write code and work with people, probably seniors, to help them live a healthier, more active life.  I want a simple life.

I can finally admit that I’d like a companion to share all of this with. I’ve spent most of my adult life alone. I’ve struggled with finally admitting that at times I have been, and sometimes am, lonely. I don’t know why, but I’d rather say that I’m an ax murdered than lonely.  However, I truly enjoy my own company, I know how to take care of myself, and I know how to be alone.  (Hey, I’m an introvert, so at times I need to be alone, or at least around someone who understands introverts. I think introverts are so misunderstood.  For example– introverts aren’t shy!) I realized that all of those things actually makes me pretty damn good company.  The most beautiful part to loving a guarded girl is this: when she lets you in, it’s not because she needs you. She stopped needing people a long time ago. It’s because she wants you. And that – that is the purest love of all.

I don’t want a lot of money or fancy things. The older I get, the more I realize that it isn’t about material things, or pride, or ego.  It’s about our hearts and who (and what) they beat for.

A Meaningful Life

Thursday, February 11, 2016 Life No tags Permalink

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“Pursuing happiness, and I did, and still do, is not at all the same as being happy- which I think is fleeting, dependent on circumstances, and a bit bovine.

If the sun is shining, stand in it- yes, yes, yes. Happy times are great, but happy times pass- they have to- because time passes.

The pursuit of happiness is more elusive; it is lifelong, and it is not goal-centered.

What you are pursuing is meaning- a meaningful life. …There are times when it will go so wrong that you will barely be alive, and times when you realize that being barely alive, on your own terms, is better than living a bloated half-life on someone else’s terms.

The pursuit isn’t all or nothing- it’s all and nothing. Like all quest stories”

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The Laughing Heart {Poetry}

Tuesday, February 9, 2016 Poetry, Poetry Tuesday, Uncategorized No tags Permalink

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your life is your life
don’t let it be clubbed into dank submission.
be on the watch.
there are ways out.
there is light somewhere.
it may not be much light but
it beats the darkness.
be on the watch.
the gods will offer you chances.
know them.
take them.
you can’t beat death but
you can beat death in life, sometimes.
and the more often you learn to do it,
the more light there will be.
your life is your life.
know it while you have it.
you are marvelous
the gods wait to delight
in you.

— by Charles Bukowski

Continue Reading…

Best

Monday, February 1, 2016 Good Things No tags Permalink

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I love notebooks. I have them stashed all over the place so I can jot down things when I think of it. I love technology, but you can’t beat pen and paper sometimes. I keep one n my desk at work just to doodle on when I’m on conference calls. 🙂

Sometimes I write down little good things so I can re-read it when I need a boost. I just found this list and it made me smile.