Saturday, March 13, 2010
Sunday, February 14, 2010
Monday, October 5, 2009
From The Essene Book of Days by Danaan Parry
Sometimes I feel that my life is a series of trapeze swings. I'm either hanging on to a trapeze bar swinging along or, for a few moments in my life, I'm hurtling across space in between trapeze bars.
Most of the time, I spend my life hanging on for dear life to my trapeze-bar-of-the-moment. It carries me along a certain steady rate of swing and I have the feeling that I'm in control of my life. I know most of the right questions and even some of the right answers. But once in a while, as I'm merrily (or not so merrily) swinging along, I look ahead of me into the distance, and what do I see? I see another trapeze bar swinging toward me. It's empty, and I know, in that place that knows, that this new trapeze bar has my name on it. It is my next step, my growth, my aliveness going to get me. In my heart-of-hearts I know that for me to grow, I must release my grip on the present, well known bar to move to the new one.
Each time it happens to me, I hope (no, I pray) that I won't have to grab the new one. But in my knowing place I know that I must totally release my grasp on my old bar, and for some moment in time hurtle across space before I can grab onto the new bar. Each time I am filled with terror. It doesn't matter that in all my previous hurtles across the void of unknowing, I have always made it. Each time I am afraid I will miss, that I will be crushed on the unseen rocks in the bottomless chasm between the bars. But I do it anyway. Perhaps this is the essence of what the mystics call the faith experience. No guarantees, no net, no insurance policy, but you do it anyway because somehow, to keep hanging onto that old bar is no longer on the list of alternatives. And so for an eternity that can last a microsecond or a thousand lifetimes, I soar across the dark void of "the past is gone, the future is not yet here." It's called transition. I have come to believe that it is the only place that real change occurs. I mean real change, not the pseudo-change that only lasts until the next time my old buttons get punched.
I have noticed that, in our culture, this transition zone is looked upon as a "no-thing", a no-place between places. Sure the old trapeze-bar was real, and that new one coming towards me, I hope that's real too. But the void in between? That's just a scary, confusing, disorienting "nowhere" that must be gotten through as fast as unconsciously as possible. What a waste! I have a sneaking suspicion that the transition zone is the only real thing, and the bars are illusions we dream up to avoid, where the real change, the real growth occurs for us. Whether or not my hunch is true, it remains that the transition zones in our lives are incredibly rich places. They should be honored, even savored. Yes, with all the pain and fear and feelings of being out-of-control that can (but not necessarily) accompany transitions, they are still the most alive, most growth-filled, passionate, expansive moments in our lives.
And so, transformation of fear may have nothing to do with making fear go away, but rather with giving ourselves permission to "hang- out" in the transition between trapeze bars. Transforming our need to grab that new bar, any bar, is allowing ourselves to dwell in the only place where change really happens. It can be terrifying. It can also be enlightening, in the true sense of the word. Hurtling through the void, we just may learn how to fly.
Saturday, October 3, 2009
Monday, September 21, 2009
Today we had our first snow fall. I felt like such a good mommy as I made sure Susan had on her rain boots and little rain coat. Its moments like these, that I know she may not understand how fortunate she is, and how there are many kids today that did have a rain coat and boots to keep them warm and dry. Sometimes I still struggle to be so different from my own mother and the upbringing I did not receive, for what ever reasons. But instead of a constant comparison, I just felt proud of the person I was able to become. And glad that it included my daughter being well taken care of.
Saturday, September 19, 2009
Friday, September 18, 2009
Tomato Napoleon with Basil Cashew Cheese and Basil Oil
For each Napoleon you will need:
1 small tomato
2 slices zucchini (the same size as the tomato)
Basil Cashew Cheese Spread
Cut the tomato in thirds. Form a patty of the Cashew Cheese the same size as the tomato slice. Layer tomato slice, zucchini and cheese, repeat. Drizzle basil Oil over top. You can also add balsamic vinegar (highly recommended).
Basil Cashew Cheese Spread
1 C Cashews, soaked at least 1 hour
2 T. Lemon Juice
1 Clove Garlic
1 C basil leaves
Start food processor. Drop clove of garlic into processor and run until garlic is chopped. Add cashews, lemon juice and salt. Place all ingredients except basil in food processor and process until smooth (it will be a little grainy). Add basil and pulse until basil is chopped up and combined into cheese.
Finely chop 4 T basil and add to 1/4 C oil