Expectations of Christmas Past

I grew up in a small town on the Missouri River, as did my parents, and their parents before them. Every Christmas Eve my mom would clean the house and my dad would go out to the store for food. The house was ready, Jack and I waiting with barely containable excitement, and a spread had been laid out for the guests:  cold cuts, wonder bread, Ruffles potato chips, beer, pop, and lots of homemade sweets. The relatives would descend on our house, grandmas, aunts, uncles, cousins, sometimes from both my mom's and my dad's side of the family.

After opening presents the kids would watch television or play games and the adults would stay at the kitchen table drinking and playing poker. We would sneak back into the kitchen for cookies and to hang out if we were bored and tried to join the adult conversation. If my Uncle Ricky was winning he would lean over to me, smelling of beer with a cigarette hanging from his mouth, and he would hand me a twenty. He's still a cash kind of gifter, when he's got any cash to give.

It was a loud, raucous time and we kids ran wild. I didn't know anything else and I thought it was great!

That was my expectation of Christmas when I went out to make my own way in the world and, as Buddha said, expectations create suffering. We live in California, we have one child, our closest relative is a thousand miles away, and I am estranged from my mother. For years a melancholy would descend on me come Christmas time, but not this year.

I have been sensing a shift deep within me for some time, but it was so intangible that it was hard to know if it was real. I think (with my ever lingering self-doubt I wouldn't want to be too emphatic), but I really think I'm actually happy exactly where I am. So tomorrow the three of us will get up and unwrap gifts thoughtfully purchased based on knowing one another intimately, the dogs will tear up the boxes and shred the wrapping paper, we will eat cinnamon rolls fresh from the oven, and it will be good. I think this shift has been about appreciating what's right in front of me and letting go of expectations of Christmas past.

Wishing you all  peace and the ability to appreciate exactly what you have today. Now I'm being pulled back to the television by the soft glow of electric sex gleaming in the window. 

Tapping Into Atman

As a girl I sensed the atman within me, but I didn't have the vocabulary to express it. You see, I was raised a Baptist. In the Bible Belt of America curiosity about the higher self, the idea that we are all pieces of God, was not encouraged, so it sat dormant for years.

I eventually found my way to an Eastern Philosophy class at Austin Community College and my path was forever altered. Now I am the teacher at a community college asking my students to tap into their own atman on the yoga mat. I love the full circle aspect of this story.

Who are you? What is your true nature? I could make a lot of money if I had the answer to these questions. I fantasize about myself as though I'm the Midwest version of Deepak Chopra, but unfortunately I have no answers. The true essence of who we are is what I've been meditating on with my students this week, really it's what I've been meditating on for a lifetime. In Hinduism they call this essence atman. What does this word, this concept, truly mean? It's the universal self, the underlying force for all our authentic interactions. It can be tricky to find in the busy world we live in, but not impossible.

The plastic world around us reveres material goods above all else and piles a lot of stuff on top of our atman. It takes hard work and diligence to stay tuned-in and connected to your authentic self.

When I was a child I remember watching a bully on the playground pushing some kid around and my heart hurt.  Even though I didn't have the courage to stand up and speak, I was tapping into atman then. It doesn't always start with action, it starts with a knowing. A gut feeling about right and wrong.

I continued to hear the voice (that's always how I describe atman, as a voice in my head that guides me), not the voice from the self my parents told me I was, not the voice that desperately needed me to fit in, but the voice deep within...and I began to allow this voice to guide my actions, my words. The voice was shaky at first, but it was not going to be ignored  any longer.

I began to feel as though I wasn't comfortable in my own skin when I didn't honor atman. Like wearing clothes that are wet and too small. So how do you tap into this essence? How do you open to hearing your voice? For me it started with meditation. I noticed each time I got off my cushion and went back into the world that the voice was easier to hear.

Since I've been allowing atman to guide me I have less drama in my life, there is less second guessing my decisions, and I rarely feel regret. Allowing the inner voice to guide me means weighing what is not only right for me, but for all those around me as well. I think this is how we were wired to be in the first place, we just have to unearth it. So go out and be the change you want to see in the world. Or ask yourself “What would Jesus do”? Or simply follow your hearts guidance, it knows what to do if you listen.    

Friday Musings

I want to believe in the best of our human nature. 

Better to be a realistic optimist then a delusional pessimist.

10 Poses in 10 Minutes

I've been teaching yoga for fifteen years and the question I'm asked the most is “what can I do about (fill in the blank with your latest ache or pain)”. This question is a tricky one to answer because there are so many variables. I normally suggest a private session or recommend that they visit a physician, acupuncturist, or a massage therapist, depending on the problem. Another question that I hear a lot, and one that is much easier to answer, is what do I recommend for home practice when the student doesn't have a lot of time or they're traveling and can't get to a class. I've compiled a list with some brief instructions on the top ten poses I recommend for students with limited time. It just takes ten minutes a day to keep your joints healthy and to help still your mind. Here is the sequence I have been recommending to students for years, and it's also my go to routine when I don't have a lot of time:

1.Easy-seated pose (Sukhasana)-Sit on your mat with legs crossed in whatever fashion you are comfortable with, spine tall, and focus on your breath for one minute. Taking deep inhales and exhales through the nose. If you are not comfortable sitting flat on your mat roll up a towel and place it directly under your sit bones to tip the pelvis slightly forward.

2.Mountain pose (Tadasana)-Stand at the top of your mat with your feet either hip width apart or feet side by side. Stand erect with arms at sides or palms at your heart pressed together in prayer pose. Find a focal point to place your gaze on and take a few rounds of deep inhale/exhale. Try to focus on grounding down through your feet as though you are a tree rooted to the earth.

3.Upward salute (Urdhva Hastasana)-From mountain pose inhale as you stretch your arms up beside your ears, folding the spine back only as far as you feel safe and comfortable, and lifting your heart upward. Inhaling on the upward movement and exhaling return to starting position. Do this five times.

4.Forward fold (Uttanasana)-From upward salute, as you exhale, hollow out your belly and keep your legs firmly engaged with a soft bend in the knee, as you fold forward, letting your arms, head, and shoulders hang heavy. Breathe here for a few rounds. Move to step 5.

5.Half forward fold (Ardha Uttanasana)-From forward fold, as you inhale, lift the sternum toward the front of the room, rest the hands on the legs, straightening out the elbows, and arch the torso away from the thighs, keeping the neck long. Move to step 6.

6.Plank pose (Utthita Chaturanga Dandasana)-Step back the length of your mat from the forward fold with first the right foot, then left, keeping your feet hip width apart and the wrist directly under your shoulders, sinking your buttocks to create a plank from head to feet. Hold for a few rounds of breath. If you need help maintaining this pose drop your knees to the floor, keeping the plank position from knee to head. Move to step 7.

7.Cobra pose (Bhujangasana)-Lower your body to the ground from plank as you exhale, you can drop your knees if you need help lowering to the ground. As you inhale, flatten the tops of the feet onto the mat leading with your sternum, lift the head and chest upward creating a slight backward bend. Make sure to keep your hands firmly planted on the mat and your shoulders relaxing down your back. Move to step 8.

8. Downward-facing dog pose (Adho Mukha Svanasana)-From cobra, as you exhale, curl your toes back under, feet still hip width apart, and push into your hands and feet, giving a slight bend in the knees or even placing them on the ground to help you press up, pushing the body upward, lifting the tailbone toward the sky, creating a tent like position with the body. Lengthen out of the arms and gently press your weight toward your thighs, straightening the legs as you sink your heels toward the floor.

*Note:Steps 2-8 constitute a Sun Salutation A. I do 4 or 5 rounds before cow-cat pose to warm up.

9.Cow-Cat pose (Bitilasana)-Drop from downward-facing dog to your hands and knees. At this point you should be on your hands and knees in a table like position. On your inhalation (imagine the movement originating at your naval) lift your tailbone toward the sky, lift your sternum toward the front of the room, and drop the belly toward the floor, gazing toward the top of your mat. As you exhale (again movement originates at the naval) drop your head and tailbone toward the floor and round your back toward the sky. Moving on the inhale and the exhale repeat cow-cat for one minute.

10.Easy spine twist (Supta Matsyendrasana)-Start by laying on the floor on your back, legs extended. Bend your right knee toward your chest, resting the right foot on the left inner thigh, put your left hand on the right knee, and extend your right arm out shoulder height. As you inhale roll onto your left hip, as you exhale gently press the bent knee to the left and drop your gaze to the right. Keep both shoulder blades on your mat and hold for one minute. Repeat on the other side.

Corpse pose (Savasana)-From easy spine twist stretch your legs down the length of the mat and drop your arms out to your sides, palms turned up. Close your eyes and rest on your back. Allowing your body to relax and the breath to return to its natural state. Stay in corpse pose at least a minute observing the sensations in your body.

This is a good series that can be done quickly and in a limited space. If you don't have a yoga mat it can be done on the floor or on a towel. Traditionally yoga is practiced with bare feet to avoid slipping, it is also not a good idea to practice with lotion on your hands and feet for the same reason.

I Want To Be Right (I say stomping my foot!)

In the past I haven't put much stock in the whole astrology thing. I have a friend that keeps me updated on the state of the planets, the stars, and what it supposedly means to us. It's interesting, so I listen. That's how I know we just came through a period of Mars in Retrograde.

This time the slow moving Mars has made me a believer. I can humbly say Mars just kicked my ass.

For the last few weeks its as though my heart had hardened beyond the point of recognition and, ironically, I knew I was choosing this suffering. It's familiar. It's comfortable, like my ancient, tattered college sweatshirt that has been known to lead some to believe I'm a homeless woman. I'm stuck. Stagnant. Wallowing in my own misery with Dr. Phil echoing in my head, “Do you want to be right or do you want to be happy?” And the answer, I want to be RIGHT! Which leaves me suffering.

Here's what's happening in my life that has inspired me to write this blog. Pete's job has been ramping up in the last few years and his stress level is through the roof. As is our human nature we take it out on the people closest to us, that would be me. I talked with him about how bringing his stress home effects me and he got it. He apologized and we talked about some strategies he was going to try to handle the daily pressures of work in the future. Two weeks have gone by and I believe Dr. Phil would give him an 'atta boy! He hasn't snapped at me, zoned out in front of the football game for hours at a time, and he's been more conscious about helping with the “daily grind” stuff...he's been present.

So what's the problem you ask? I was right. He was taking his stress out on me and I'm pissed.

I've had this overwhelming urge to punish him. To bask in my self-righteousness, regardless of the detrimental effect it will have on our relationship. It's ugly. It's not at all who I want to be, but there it is. So now, what do I do with it? I want to soften my heart. I want to own up to my vindictive nature and apologize. I find it astonishing that after twenty-seven years with Pete that I can't just own my shit and move on. It seems pretty obvious he's not going anywhere, so why not just own it? I screwed up, sorry, let's move on.

I wrote this last week and yesterday I was able to finally speak with Pete honestly about what was getting between us. I spoke from my heart and I apologized, which is not an easy task for me. As he always does, Pete opened his arms to me without resentment. He allowed me to blame the last few weeks of angry looks and cold shoulder on the God of War. Now that Mars has moved out of retrograde I'm happy to say Venus is ruling our house once more, at least until the next retrograde spins around.

My Take on Yakisoba

I like this recipe because you can use any veggies you have hanging around in the refrigerator, this is my favorite combo. You can find yakisoba noodles in the refrigerator section at the grocery store next to the vegetable aisle and near the tofu.

Yakisoba with Veggies

2 cloves of garlic

2 Tbl olive oil

1 large red bell pepper

2 small heads of bok choy (tough end cooked with other veggies, leaves added at the end with noodles)

1 cup bean sprouts (added at the end with noodles)

1 head of broccoli, cut into pieces

2 carrots, peeled and sliced

2 celery stalks, sliced

3 green onions, sliced

1, 7.7 oz, yaki soba noodles, discard flavor package

Yaki Soba sauce:

½ cup Bragg's liquid aminos (or soy sauce)

a little less then 1/ 8 cup each: mirin, worcestershire sauce, and rice vinegar.

1 Tbl chili paste. I like the sambal oelek brand. 

Pour olive oil in a large skillet or wok and turn stove to medium heat. Add veggies (except bean sprouts and bok choy leaves) and garlic. Saute until veggies are tender, about 10-15 minutes, stirring to keep an eye on the texture. Veggies should be al dente. Add yaki soba sauce, noodles, bean sprouts, and bok choy leaves. Break up noodles as they heat and cook another 5 minutes. 

Serves 4 (or 3 if really hungry)

Apple Ginger Juice

Apple Ginger Juice with Swiss Chard

This is fast becoming my favorite juice. It's also apple time around here and I try to use what's in

season. This has quite a kick thanks to the ginger, but you can add a smaller piece for a milder taste. Ginger is good for the digestion as it stimulates the digestive fluids, it aids with the alleviation of sinus and throat soreness, and it helps with absorption and assimilation of essential nutrients. Ginger is fast becoming the new garlic around here when I cook. I buy a large root from the produce stand, use the carrot peeler to take the skin off, then cut it into one inch pieces and freeze in a ziplock bag. It's much easier to grate frozen and I just pop a piece in the fridge a few hours before I want to juice it so it can thaw out a bit.

For two servings use:

2 large swiss chard leaves, stems and all (kale will work too, it's a stronger taste though)

1 large honeycrisp, pink lady, or granny smith

1 inch piece of ginger

Juice and drink!  

So Many Boxes

The choices we make can either keep us contained in a box or they can expand us until the box splinters and falls away. Each of us must own our choices and the fact that, if we are restricted by a box, we have only ourselves to blame. I sometimes feel there is more than one box surrounding me, like a Russian nesting doll. Just when I break out of one there is another one waiting, but sometimes I hesitate. It's as though a voice is whispering from within the box, “Don't leave, you're safe in here. Out there you might get hurt. They may prove you're really not ____________ (fill in the blank with your inadequicies)."

I recently bumped up against a wall of a box I thought I had splintered long ago. As I sat at Loyola Marymount University for a yoga function I noticed I was surrounded by cool, hip LA yogis. Then I heard the little voice whispering of my origins. I could ignore the whispering during the film and lecture section, sitting quietly and nodding my head. Later in the day, as I stepped onto my mat, the whispering became louder;

“What's a hick from small town Missouri doing at this amazing program? You're certainly going to be exposed now, you can't fake asana.”

For a fleeting moment I was certain that the amazingly famous and awesome yoga teacher (think Meryl Streep to the aspiring actor), who happened to be standing directly in front of me, would surely recognize me as a fraud. I pictured her signaling to an unseen yoga bouncer, pointing at me, and having me dragged away...only experienced, worldly yogis need apply.

I was overwhelmed, shocked that my old insecurity was still so powerful. I dropped to my knees, disguising my insecurtiy as simply a rest in balasana. I found my breath; long, full inhale, long, calming exhale, and the moment passed. Extending my arms, curling my toes under, I pressed back up into down dog, and glided back into the flow. Through my connection to body and breath, I had quelled my insecurities, if only fleeting.

I will continue to flow through my life mindful of the walls that surround me, doing my best to bring them down, and applying as much kindness as I can when the wall is too solid to topple...and then I'll try another day.    

Pasta with Spinach and Lemon Cream

Here in Redlands we have an abundance of citrus. At the height of lemon season it is not uncommon to have people begging you to take some of their lemons. When a Kansas City friend said she had a great, easy recipe featuring lemons I was all over it.  This has become a staple on busy work nights. Five ingredients to a delicious, healthy dinner. I use Barilla fortified pasta, we have sampled many pastas over the years and this is our families favorite. Sometimes I grill a chicken breast, slice it up, and then mix it in when adding the spinach.

Ingredients:
1 Box Barilla Plus, 11 oz.
4 1/2 Tbsp fresh lemon juice
zest from 1 lemon
3/4 cup sour cream
salt to taste
pepper to taste
1 cup fresh grated parmesan cheese
3 cups spinach-eyeball it. I normally use more.

*Bring water to boil and cook pasta.
*Meanwhile, in large bowl, combine lemon juice, lemon zest, sour cream, salt, pepper, and parmesan cheese.  
*When noodles are done drain and pour into sour cream mixture. Add spinach and mix until completely covered. You can serve this hot or cold. Feeds 6.

Korean Style Chicken and Green Bean Salad

 I invited Pete to take a walk with me last night for Kimchi. What is Kimchi and why did we walk to get it? Well, I had a new exotic recipe and it called for Kimchi, a spicy pickled cabbage that I hear is used like ketchup in Korea. I'm always game for a new recipe, seems like the farther out there the better, especially if I have a notion that it's healthy for us. We have a new Asian Market within walking distance, so I thought we would get our evening walk in and pick up this new and adventurous ingredient at the same time. I've been at this cooking game long enough that I normally have an idea as to the recipes outcome. The following recipe could have gone either way, but I was pleasantly surprised. This recipe is served cold, which is nice when the temperatures soar to oven heights. This recipe came from the most recent issue of Sunset Magazine, with my usual adjustments to suit our taste.

Korean Style Chicken and Green Bean Salad

1 lb. Fresh green beans

2 Tbl. spicy kimchi juice (from the jar), plus 1 cup chopped kimchi

½ tsp. Salt

1-2 Tbl. Asian chili paste

3 Tbl. canola oil

2 tsp. Rice vinegar

1large, skinless, boneless chicken breast, cooked, shredded, and cooled

1 cup grape tomatoes, cut in half

½ cup roughly chopped cilantro

1. Blanche green beans, drain, set aside to cool.
2. In small bowl, whisk together oil, kimchi juice, salt, chili paste, and vinegar.
3. Place beans, chicken, chopped kimchi, tomatoes, and cilantro in a bowl. Gently toss with dressing.

For side dish serves 4. For main dish serves 2. As best I can tell, there is about 800 calories in this whole dish. So two servings is 400 calories or less each. 

Soft Ripples

It was a hard week. It started with some small stuff and then crescendoed into a major shit storm...then the dam burst. It felt as though something primordeal had been laying dormant within me and the time had come for it to make its presence known. I started screaming, gut wrenching, fist pounding, gasping for breath, screaming. It was surreal, hypnotic. Emotionally raw, ugly. I thought, for just a moment, that I might never stop screaming. I'm not sure how much time passed, but I did stop.

How long have I been fighting? I'm tired. I'm thouroughly and utterly exhausted.

As I lay on my bed spent, a bubble of thought arose:

I will stop fighting and let the waves wash over me like soft ripples.

I will stop fighting

I will let the waves wash over me

just

soft

ripples

and this is how I will step into my next chapter.

Spaghetti Squash with Greek Meatballs/ Swiss Chard with Bacon and Cannellini Beans

 I am always looking for new and innovative ways to use vegetables. Here are a couple of recipes that I have made in the last week using spaghetti squash and one that used up a big bunch of swiss chard that I had in the refrigerator. I have been cooking so many ethnic recipes lately that I decided to take a southern, homecooked meal approach to the swiss chard. The squash definitely would fall on the ethnic side of the menu though. Sorry, I forgot to take a picture of the squash and meatballs, but both Pete and I enjoyed these recipes. Bon Apetit!

Spaghetti Squash with Greek Meatballs (Meatball recipe courtesy of Giada De Laurentiis)

Ingredients

Meatballs:

1 pound ground beef (I used ground buffalo)

1 cup cooked and cooled couscous (I used whole wheat couscous)

3 scallions, chopped

2 cloves garlic, chopped

1 egg, at room temperature, beaten

1/4 cup chopped fresh Italian parsley

2 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil

3 tablespoons dried mint (I cut the mint in half)

1 1/2 tablespoons dried oregano

2 teaspoons kosher salt

1 1/2 teaspoons ground cumin

1 tablespoon ground cinnamon

1/2 teaspoon cayenne pepper

Sauce:

3 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil

1 (25-ounce) jar marinara sauce

2 cinnamon sticks

1 tablespoon ground cinnamon

Directions

For the meatballs: In a large bowl, mix together the lamb, couscous, scallions, garlic, egg, parsley, olive oil, mint, oregano, salt, cumin, cinnamon, and cayenne pepper. Form the mixture into 15 to 16 (2-inch diameter) meatballs.

For the sauce: Heat the oil in a large nonstick skillet over medium-high heat. Add the meatballs and cook until brown on all sides, about 6 minutes. Add the marinara sauce, cinnamon sticks, and ground cinnamon. Bring the sauce to a boil and reduce the heat to a simmer. Cook, turning occasionally, until the meatballs are cooked through, 10 to 12 minutes. Discard the cinnamon sticks.

Squash:

I whole spaghetti squash

Directions

Cut in half and hollow out the pulp. Place the squash in pan cut side down with a layer of water on the bottom of the pan. Cook in oven at 350 until tender, about 45 minutes. Once cooked use a large spoon to scoop out the squash and place in large bowl. Serve with meatballs and sauce on top of squash. I served this with a green salad and bread on side.

(Serves 4-6)

Swiss Chard with Bacon and Cannellini Beans/ Corn Muffins on the Side

Ingredients

Swiss Chard Mixture:

1 Tbl olive oil

½ cup chopped onion

1 large bunch of swiss chard

1 Tbl. Bragg's cider vinegar

1 Tbl. real maple syrup

½ tsp red pepper

1/3 cup water

4 pieces turkey bacon

1 can cannellini white beans, drained

1 package of corn muffin mix

Cook turkey bacon in a cast iron skillet. Remove and shred into bite size pieces, set aside. Leave fat in skillet and add onion, cook until soft. Add olive oil, water, and greens to the pan. After the greens cook down add the syrup, pepper, and vinegar. Mix well then add beans and bacon.

To make corn muffins follow package directions. I like to mix jalapenos into my muffins.

After the beans are heated through serve on top of corn muffins.

(Serves 2) 

Slowly, I'm Letting Go

I was talking to a friend last week about my jam-packed schedule and how exhausted I've been feeling this summer. As I ticked off the things that filled my month and barred me from a full day off she asked, “why did you schedule so much in July then?” Nothing like the frankness of a Canadian to get you thinking.

As I pondered my propensity for all or nothing (it has been all of late), it also occurred to me that my physical health is not optimum right now either. For a week I've had a dull ache in my belly, my neck is all jacked up, and I've been discreetly picking my cuticles. This morning, as the the light bled through the window covering, I got still and listened...what I found was fear. I think my overscheduling has been an avoidance tactic and this uneasy feeling is directly tied to fear for my child's safety. I have this notion, unconscious until now, that if I keep Jayne under our roof she will be safe. The reality is she is eighteen and going to college, and I have to let go now. I know this is a rite of passage that all parents must go through, I just wish I had a few more years with her at home. Pete and I have done our best to guide her fairly, honestly, and lovingly, and our hope is that she will allow these principles to guide her as she heads off to college. Now we must find our faith.

We are stewards of our children. It's our job to love them, teach them right from wrong, show them how to commune with the world around them, and then send them out into that world to flourish. To paraphrase Hermann Hesse, some think holding on makes you strong; but sometimes it is letting go. I'm getting closer to letting go.

Our Small, Everyday Interactions Matter

This is a picture of Pete's grandparents, Lucrezia(Louise) and Joseph Aniello. Grandma was born here in America in 1917 to Italian immigrants and Grandpa came to America from Italy when he was thirteen. I'm not sure why, but I find their history something to be proud of. Perhaps because my own people have little idea as to their roots. Grandma died yesterday in hospice care at the age of 96. Here is how I came to be an Aniello and how they accepted a very young and unpolished girl into their family and, unbeknownst to them, how important their everyday interactions with me through the years have been.

I met Pete in college at nineteen and we married a year later. In my family of origin I was considered an old maid by some, the fact that I went to college and wasn't pregnant put me ahead of the game in their eyes. I was well aware that the way things worked in my family wasn't the way things worked in all families. My best friend and maid of honor voiced her concerns at my age and the gravity of what I was taking on; bottom line, I watched my family and followed their lead. I didn't realize until much later that I was carrying this underlying sense of embarrassment around about being so young and married. When I met Pete's family I knew there must be some reservations about the viability of our relationship, but no one ever voiced them. I remember my first visit to Florida and my first big Italian meal at Grandma and Grandpa Aniello's. I was trying to make myself useful and was in the kitchen with Grandma helping with all the details for the gathering that was taking place. I specifically remember a conversation with Grandma about my unease at being so young and married, or something along those lines, and Grandma said, “Stop worrying about it, you make Peter happy” and then sent me into the dining room with a task to look after. She never mentioned this converstation again. This family has shown me a way of being that I had not seen before and, with Grandma's passing, I feel overwhemed by a sense of appreciation at knowing her. Grandma and Grandpa showed me unconditional acceptance and I had no idea how much this meant to me until now. I am often sad about my own family of origin, most of them do not embrace my awesomeness, yet, with this loss the reality is I do have a family that appreciates me...I just married into it.

We got to visit Grandma six weeks ago while we were in Florida. Sixteen of us crowded into her hospice apartment, most of us knowing it would be the last time we saw her, yet my heart was light with love. As I looked around her room it struck me how rich her life had been. I only hope that I am surrounded by the abundance of love and laughter when I grow old as Grandma was. In her room the walls were decorated with pictures from her childhood, her wedding day with Grandpa, the Saints from her beloved Catholicism, and pictures of various grandchildren and great-grandchildren. We took turns talking to Grandma when Ann (Pete's mother) said, “ Look around this room Mom. The priest said to go out and multiply and you sure did.” Even at 96 Grandma's personality shone through and her response was classic Grandma, “We only had two kids, this is on you people” and she rolled her eyes. I think Grandma would like the fact that when I think of her I will think of this interaction and smile.

How I Stumbled Into Conscious Living

 Pete and I have been discussing living a conscious life for the last few months and the difference we think it's made to our overall happiness.

What does living a conscious life mean? First, let me tell you what it doesn't mean. Getting a little yoga knowledge and turning into a self-righteous asshole. A new found love for healthy living and preaching to all the sinners still eating McDonald's about their evil ways. Assuming every fight you have with your husband is his fault. (Why did I find it so hard to be wrong?) Stepping up to the express lane at the grocery store with a LOT more than the maximum number of items and pretending you don't see the sign. All those behaviors that deep down, if you listen really closely, you can hear a little voice warning you might not be right. Ah, but making changes based on that little voice is easier said then done.

I began to inadvertently listen to that voice based solely on maternal instincts. Carrying a child can be a powerful catalyst for change.

What living a conscious life means to me is being ever vigilant of my behavior knowing that it directly affects the people around me. This notion was born for me the day I found out I was pregnant with Jayne. My two candy bar lunch chased down by a Big Gulp of Coke suddenly seemed wrong, so naturally, my journey into conscious living started with diet. Then, after Jayne was born, she was collicky and more of my darkness was exposed. The frustration arose quickly in those sleep deprived days and my instincts, so screwed up from my own childhood, was to shake her in anger. What I did instead was put her in the crib, lock myself in the bathroom, and cry with such self-loathing that I didn't think I would ever be able to look in the mirror again. I've stumbled along the way, but I seem to always find my way back. Having a child watching and emulating my behavior was a powerful motivator. I credit much of my mindfulness, my conscious living, to my studies of Patanjali's Yoga Sutras and the Buddha's Noble Eightfold Path. You don't have to study Eastern philosophy to get there though, Christ delivered a very similar message. To ferret out what exists within each of us that we find so disdainful and expose it to the light is the beginning of change. Once exposed, these behaviors, some of which are burried so deep, suddenly seem to have less of a hold on us. I've always been a happy person, but lately I feel, dare I say, blissfully happy and it's nice.    

Ode to the Country Archie Bunker

                                                              http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=L5-XFdGl0Vc

   

     I have this fantasy that my parents are aging hippies with a proclivity toward all things new age. When they come to visit in my fantasy we sit around and have deep conversations about stuff like the universal energy while eating quinoa and veggies. After dinner we might hang out under the stars drinking wine together in silence. My dad recently came to visit and reality was much different than fantasy. You see, my dad is a throwback to a different era, he's a country Archie Bunker and I am his Gloria. Growing up we were constantly at odds with each other. So much of what he espouses is just so wrong and I felt it was my job to open his eyes. It took me forty years to get it...he is who he is and he ain't changin'. It's rare for my dad to leave his comfort zone; Texas, Red Lobster, Cracker Barrel, a Casino. However, he is an awesome Papa (his choice of moniker, not ours) and for Jayne's graduation he came to California. I was both excited for him to visit and a little nervous; it's funny how, even as adults, there is some primitive desire to please our parents.

     I wanted so badly to bond with this man I have so little in common with, yet love so dearly, that I threw myself on the altar of our local San Manuel Tribe. I spent three hours in a smoke filled casino pushing buttons on a poker machine. I am a people watcher and noticed the other patrons seemed listless with an unhealthy pallor. I suppose the allure of hitting it big is better than sitting at home and watching Jerry Springer. Continuing the bonding experience we ate at Tony's Spunky Steer, dad's choice, he loves their downhome cookin'. As we chatted over fried chicken I tried to explain that Jayne's new found pescatarian lifestyle does not include chicken. In dad's world anyone who doesn't eat red or fried meat is a little suspect, especially men; men who don't eat meat must be a little light in the loafers. Like I said, he has a lot of opinions that can leave one speechless.

     My dad is not in the best of health and I decided one night at the Spunky Steer was enough so I volunteered to cook dinner at my house the next night. I chose to make jerk chicken and vegetables grilled kebob style with rice. I thought this wouldn't offend his sensibilities too much. As we ate I asked dad what he thought of the recipe? How foolish of me to assume a positive response was coming since he had just cleaned his plate. Always true to his Archie Bunker persona he responded, “Not too good”, then he threw me a bone, “I guess it was ok.” This is who my dad is, I know this, and my response was simply, “Well, it's healthy for you dad.” How close the old me was to the surface though, as it suddenly felt prudent to move on to a new subject as the possibility was very real that I might fly across the table while hurling a stream of profanities at him. Then, a few deep breathes later, and Yoga Lisa was back. I glanced at my father cooing over my sixteen month old niece and remembered how he held my daughter in the same way seventeen years ago, probably my sister, my brother, and myself as well. I could see in that moment that my father loves his children so quietly, yet so deeply, and just because it's not how I'm choosing to love doesn't mean it's not love. Once more my yoga is serving me off my mat as I embrace who my father is with an equanimity that allows me to love him just as he is. Now I will end this post with my dad's phone farewell to me each week, “Later”.

Wistful Joy

There are moments in this life that can bring you to your knees.

That shatter you into a thousand pieces.

Pain so extreme you think you might not survive......

That's what happens when you are truly, whole-heartedly engaged in life.

Glimpses of dark and light, love and hate, heartbreaking joy and earth shattering sorrow.

Pain so deep it can bring you to your knees, face down in the dirt,

begging for someone or something to make it stop.

In these moments we are broken wide-open, exposed beyond our knowing, and spent.

Yet, on the other side there's light. Always light.

It comes slowly and gradually like a change of season.

We wake one day and the pain is softer, muted to a dull ache.

With time the ache becomes a memory that is full of wistful joy.

And then our hearts are filled with an appreciation for loving so deeply,

sharing so profoundly this precious experience with another,

that we open our arms to the universe in anticipation.

Slow Down Ricky Bobby

     Growing up in the house of a bipolar honed my bobbing and weaving skills as my mother's moods could swing from playful to scornful in a nanosecond. As an adult this has manifested itself in a myriad of ways, some negative and needy, still others have been immensly important to my self-preservation. As my dad says “you don't have to hit me on the head twice” and on Wednesday my heart plummeted as I read between the lines of an email I received. I was asked to create the curriculum for a new Eastern Religion course at the college where I teach with the understanding that when the funding came in I could teach it. However, the budget has changed and they have funding for a full-time position in the Humanities Department. So, why don't I just apply for the position you ask? Because I have no classroom experience and that's a prerequisite (which when I get out of my heart I understand), so the bottom line is whomever they hire will be teaching the class I designed if they choose to implement it. 
     Eight hours later as I walked out the door heading to the college I received a phone call from a friend about a yoga venture we are delving into together. I was in a hurry to get to class and thought the implication of the phone call was that I wasn't going to be as involved as I originally thought.....great, more income lost before it even arrives, and just as we take on college payments. As I drove down the highway to class I was pissed at the universe, pissed at myself for not choosing a more marketable degree, pissed at my friend for cutting me out, just PISSED! We poor Midwest kids pride ourselves on our Ricky Bobby-like reflexes and, full disclosure, I'm an aggressive driver. Driving down the road I took my anger and disappointment out on my fellow unsuspecting coachmen. Then a whack to the head...am I really driving to teach the mellow, zen inspiring practice of yoga in a rage? My foot eased off the pedal and I sent up an apology to the universe for my behavior.

     As I walked to my classroom I realized my short-lived road rage was a good teaching tool. You see, this particular day in class happened to be the day I planned to talk about Dharana. Quick yoga lesson: Dharana is the sixth yoga branch and tells us we must concentrate on what we find when we move inward through pratyahara. Pratyahara is the fifth branch and is to remove ones senses from the outside world and to look inward. How does this relate to my tantrum? Without my meditation practice, both on and off the mat, I probably wouldn't have recognized my motivation on the road, or at least I wouldn't have done anything about it. That's the beauty of a yoga practice. Once you begin to slow down on the mat all the numbing out we do begins to wear off and, like it or not, feelings arise. As these feelings are exposed to the light we begin to see what is at the root of our behaviors. All the monsters in the closet are revealed as you begin to make friends with the lonely little trolls living behind the door. Another bonus is you begin to see that not getting what you want, or think you want, is not always the tragedy we make it out to be. Life goes on and you can choose to be as happy or as miserable as you decide. 
    It's a powerful moment when you realize your destiny is not dependent on the perfect job, or the perfect partner, or the perfect (fill in the blank). We find this truth by climbing up the yoga tree one branch at a time, delving ever deeper into our own psyche. Patanjali said it best: “The student of yoga should be compelled not only to acquire a right knowledge of what is and what is not real......while results in the way of psychic development are not so immediately seen as in the case of the successful practitioner of Hatha Yoga.” Once more the practice of yoga has shown itself to be a wonderful gift. Eye-rolling after reading this would not insult me, my daughter told me just last week how corny I am, but I don't care. I happen to be madly in love with my yoga.  

Asparagus and Linguine: Easy, Healthy Dinner Idea

     It kind of baffles me, in a completely good way, but my daughter is in love with veggies these days. This recipe has turned into one of her favorite meals, especially since she has sworn off meat. Hopefully this is encouraging to hear for all of you moms with little kids, just keep offering them the veggies and someday they will be requesting them. This is a strange recipe because it has a dollop of avocado on top of each serving making it interesting in a quite delicious way.

1/2 package Barilla protein fortified linguine, or whatever type of pasta you like
3 Tbl olive oil
2 cloves garlic
1 bunch asparagus, tough ends removed, and cut into 1 inch pieces
1 cup grape tomatoes, cut in half
3/4 cup chicken or vegetable broth
1 avocado
garlic salt
dill (I use dried herbs for this, just a small amount on each serving) 
parmesan cheese (I use fresh, but dried parmesan would work as well)

-Cook the pasta according to directions. Drain and set aside, adding to asparagus mixture when done.  
-Heat olive oil in a large skillet over medium heat, add and cook garlic for one minute. Add the asparagus and stir to coat. Pour broth into pan and continue cooking until asparagus is tender, about ten minutes. 
-Peel and mash avocado in a bowl adding a pinch of garlic salt. 
-Mix pasta into asparagus pan to coat. 

Place a serving of pasta on a plate, top with tomatoes, avocado, dill, and parmesan. 
Serves 4

Making Peace with my Fear

     Just when I think I've discovered all the hidden mines in my psyche, a simple conversation with a friend can expose a treasure trove of pain. I woke this morning compelled to write about my brother Jack's death. This shouldn't have surprised me since the pain always seems to be floating just past my peripheral vision. You would think with all the years of therapy under my belt I would be expecting these little gems of pain, but the human mind loves to dodge the really tough stuff. I sat before yoga class yesterday talking with Kristin. Her mother's dog Snookie, a round, sweet, dachshund mix, was at the studio with her. Our conversation turned to the healing power of dogs. As Kristin spoke about her father's death I watched Snookie back her haunches into my leg. I should have known I was in avoidance mode as my mind wandered to the notion that watching Snookie back up was like watching a bread truck slowly backing in for the morning delivery. I mindlessly scratched her hips as our conversation segued into our experiences with death and the intuitiveness of the dog. Kristen's father died two years ago of ALS combined with dementia, a rare and painful combination from what she described. As she spoke about the last day she spent with her father I held back the urge to sob, not for her pain, which was palpable, or her father, but for Jack. Kristen's father died at home under hospice care with his wife and children beside him. The beauty of this picture was almost too much for me to bear.

     You see, my brother died alone on the floor of a strangers apartment. Up until yesterday I had avoided dealing with the reality of the circumstances surrounding his death by simply ignoring them. Yet, for the last twenty-four hours it is all I can think about. I picture a cold, filthy floor and Jack lying in a pool of his own vomit; how I love to stoke the embers of my pain. I sometimes put on my “at peace with the universe” face and might be heard saying something like, “I wouldn't change a thing in my life, it has made me the person I am......blah, blah, blah.” Honestly, to use my father's phraseology, that's a bunch of bullshit. If I could change one thing in my life I would have been in that apartment to hold my brother's hand, to smooth his hair back, and to tell him everything's gonna be all right. I have long accepted that Jack is dead, but I realized yesterday that I have not fully processed the pain I feel for him dying alone. Each time I unearth something hidden deep within me like this I know that on the other side of this dark place I will come out in the light, so I embrace it, ready for the sun to burn off the darkness.

     I have a theory that when we don't deal with these burried gems, they are exposed in some other way. I believe that the avoidance of this pain has manifested itself into a psychological issue for me, an issue that has been paralyzing at times over the last ten years. When Pete or Jayne travel, not us traveling as a family, but when they are traveling alone, I become sick with fear that they are going to die. It has gotten to the point that to alleviate my panic they text me at regular interervals along their routes. When this began I might call every few minutes until I reached them, I would leave freaked out voice mails, I would send the same text over and over until I got a response, sometimes I even got physically ill from the fear as I waited. I sought therapy, tried breathing exercises, berated myself for the “craziness”, forced myself to ignore the panic, and today.....I found some compassion for myself. I believe this fear springs directly from my sadness for Jack. I wasn't there for him and I have been living in fear that I won't be there for Pete and Jayne, to hold their hand, to usher them out of this world with love. Everyone dies, so to live in fear of death is pointless. I'm going to try and make some peace with this fear and to give it over to God. The timing couldn't be more perfect, I was a little worried for my sanity as Jayne heads to New York next week alone. Once more I am struck by the beauty of life. When the time is right the stone loosens and falls away, leaving a hole for the light to shine through, and the time is right for me to let this stone go.  

Flexing My Gratitude Muscle

     While teaching yoga a few weeks ago I found myself wandering through the rows of mats making corrections here and there when I thought, “are these students aware of what an amazing thing they've stumbled onto?” I certainly wasn't conscious in the beginning of what a profound difference my yoga practice would mean to my life. Learning the philosophy behind the practice has made me acutely cognizant of my behavior both on and off my mat. I now know my yoga practice is a gift, a life altering gift that I'm grateful for every day. My people, my family of origin, were poor, uneducated, and the only way they knew to find spirituality was through a Sunday sermon filled with hand raising capitulation and loud choruses of Hallelujah. Times have changed, but most of them are still scraping by and the idea of the time, let alone the money, it takes to have a yoga practice would be considered a luxury. Don't get me wrong, I know that you can spread out a towel on your living room floor and practice yoga in your pajamas (no Lululemon required), but when you are a single mom, working two jobs, the reality is there is just not enough time in the day. How many of us take this for granted? I certainly did. I thought the way to happiness was more of everything when I began my adult life; a nice house with matchy-matchy furniture, an expensive car, all the trappings that showed the world I had arrived. Then I found yoga and became “enlightened.” I transcended that lowly behavior, yet my stealthy humaness was lurking in the shadows. My wants became subtler; more advanced asana, outrageously expensive yoga accessories, then, again, “enlightenment.” I want to stop chasing (fill in the blank here) and to just Be. Grateful, happy to have a pulse. Not an easy state to achieve in our modern world, but I'm trying.

     If you haven't guessed, gratitude seems to be a reccurring theme in my life lately. I've found my personal yoga practice directly correlates to my happiness meter and I've been consistently rolling out my mat again. I've been making it a point to attend many different instructors and styles, but I'm especially enjoying Dylan Werner's (see photo) class at Inner Evolution right now. This is a big deal for me because his class is way out of my comfort zone. I jokingly call this class the “kick your ass hour”, but I'm having a blast learning from this very strong yogi. At the end of class on Friday night we were guided into sukhasana (easy cross-legged pose) then he asked us to take a moment in gratitude (there it is again). I felt an easy smile arise on my face, humbled by the strength and health of my body and grateful for all that I'm learning from this young yoga teacher. I've been looking at gratitude like a muscle that can be strengthened and was pleased to sense it engage at the end of this class of its own free will. I'm probably preaching to the choir here, but Norman Vincent Peale was right when he said, “change your thoughts and you change the world.” Man, am I grateful for my world. Wrinkles, age spots, poochy belly and all. Let's just see if I can keep it up.    

A New Motto?

    I recently gave an extra credit assignment to my college students. The assignment was to watch one of two shows on Netflix: Hungry for Change or Enlighten Up! Quick sidebar: Enlighten Up! is a movie about one guy's journey to find out if he commits to a yoga practice how his life might change, and Hungry for Change is a movie about the food industry and eating healthier; pretty diverse topics on the surface. It's been my experience in the past that many of the students at the college don't take assignments seriously from a junior college yoga teacher. The work that many have turned in to me in the past has been underwhelming to say the least. I'm afraid I've become jaded when I give out homework at the college (full disclosure: I stopped reading their assignments). I told myself I was too busy (isn't that the most cliché excuse?) and that I knew what I was going to find anyway. Last semester I gave out a similiar assignment and instead of reading each paper I simply glanced over them to make sure they had dotted all their i's and crossed all their t's and then gave them credit. As I sat down with the papers in front of me I noticed one student had made a cover sheet that was quite professional and he had placed his work into a plastic sleeve to assure safe delivery. What kind of schmuck would I be if I didn't even read that one? Then it dawned on me that each student had taken their time to watch what I suggested, to type out their opinions about what they had seen, with the expectation that I would at least read them. Didn't they deserve for me to take a little time out of my oh so “busy” day to read what they had written? Of course the answer is YES!

    I found the usual suspects when I began to peruse the papers: pages filled with empty facts trying to kill some space so they could be done, facts mixed up, skewed perceptions, words misspelled (how does that even happen with spell check?), and then I happened on a genuinely sincere paper. This particular student is a young, single mom who took offense at some of the issues presented in Hungry for Change. At one point the documentary says something like, “feeding your children cereal is like feeding them heroin.” The producers are talking about the high sugar content, as well as the GMO's (genetically modified organisms), that can be found in many cereals. I continued to read and noticed a pattern taking shape. In paper after paper students were waffling between defensive and self-deprecating about their life choices after watching this film. I found myself instinctually making notes on some of the pages, words of encouragement, gentle corrections when they were misinformed, yet, I don't even return these papers. Hmmm? Still not sure of what to do with the sense that I had somehow done them a disservice, I continued to read on. I picked up the next paper which happened to be on Enlighten Up! Krystal wrote the usual fare at first; what the documentary was about, the characters, how she felt about it, and then she WOWed me. In fact, what she wrote is going to be my new motto for life. Krystal said that what she took from the Gurus was “Yoga practice is simply to become better, whatever your version of better may be.” SHAZAM! This was the answer. I went in the next day and wrote Krystal's line on the mirror with a bar of soap. I had to improvise since I have no whiteboard. I told them I noticed a theme that was insidiously weaving its way through many of the papers I had read, as well as in yoga classes around the west, and that is that many of us believe we aren't quite good enough. I read the line again and then asked if they had changed any habits based on our discussions, the documentaries, asana practice. I received a resounding nod to indicate “yes” (they don't say much). So it seems to me that the answer is simple; just be the best “you” you can be today and stop worrying. I like to think my students got it, but, if not, I know Krystal and I did.         

Discovering Me Isn't Going To Be Easy

...and you discover yourself to be a greater person by far than you ever dreamed yourself to be~

Patanjali

     Yesterday I felt good, today I feel like I'm falling to the floor in a thousand tiny pieces. I did my yoga and meditation yesterday then I pulled out my research for a project I'm involved in. I'm highly passionate about my work and spent hours taking notes and googling information, then dinner with a girlfriend I haven't seen in a while to catch up. Fast forward to today and I'm not speaking to Pete over a fight about...wait for it...cereal. What the fuck is going on with me? I worry that the bipolar my mom suffers from is finally manifesting itself in me and that scares the shit out of me. My mom has lost everything that is dear to her because of this disease. She refuses to stay on meds and continues to add alcohol to the mix. Her craziness has driven all of the people that she loves away; I think of my own departure from her life as self-preservation. In order to maintain my sanity I moved five states away from her and I don't answer the phone when she calls anymore. Too many conversations ended with her screaming obscenities at me by way of the “shitty daughter” speech and saying things like, “Oh, if Jack (my dead brother) were only alive he wouldn't treat me like this.” I so don't want to allow my own self-pity to turn me into someone who hates the people I'm supposed to love most. I feel out of control emotionally and it scares me. I wonder if my mom feels scared by her own instability? Or perhaps just the awareness of my own instability means I'm not crazy?

     I can't decide if I should cut myself some slack or shake it off or just grow up. It has been a hard two years and now I'm looking at my only child, the main focus of my life for over eighteen years, heading off to college and creating her own story. I will only be a footnote in her story from now on, no longer the mother lifeline I so loved playing. I have been healing my childhood wounds through the act of nurturing my own daughter for years now; I'm feeling a little wobbly at the idea of no longer having that. It has been achingly painful at times and just as equally beautiful. After what seems like a lifetime of yoga the message is suddenly crystal clear to me: It is time that I begin to truly love and nurture myself, to be far greater than I ever dreamed. No longer am I able to use the excuse that Jayne must come first, or the dogs, or Pete. All are self-sufficient and that terrifies me. I must truly face who I am, this painfully flawed human with an overflowing abundance of both love and anger, and find a way to make peace with myself once and for all. I think I'm truly ready to find some equanimity, but that may have to wait until I have a good cry.  

Weak-Willed Lisa No More

      The yoga studio that I teach for is also the studio where I practice. Every March they have a thirty-day challenge to get students to recommit to their asana practice. Think Patanjali's Yoga Sutra 1:14, “This practice becomes firmly rooted when it is cultivated skillfully and continuously for a long time.” I, being the weak-willed woman that I am, have not participated in the past. This year I inadvertantly stepped into the challenge. I noticed that by sheer happenstance I had practiced asana for seven days in a row; I just started a few days earlier than the challenge, so I thought I'd just see how it goes. Then I really went out on a limb and announced to Phil and Sandrine, the owners of the studio, that I was following along with the challenge even though I hadn't registered for it. Great, now there is someone to hold me accountable! I have avoided situations like this for many years; I like to keep it loose. Goes along with my weak-willed mantra quite well don't you think? So, I was cruising along having made it to day eighteen, I was feeling proud...then we took a college roadtrip to Flagstaff with our daughter.

     I had planned on doing some yoga in our hotel room before we headed to NAU to tour the campus, but my body had other plans for me. I woke up on Friday morning looking and feeling like Johnny Depp in the opening scene from The Rum Diary; it was bad, and I hadn't even been drinking. My allergies had been kicking my butt for days and seemed to intensify with the new location, and I slept for just two hours thanks to my cough that night. I was looking at a five and a half hour tour of a college campus and then a six hour drive home. I told myself that I would surely feel better when we got home and I could practice then. Right, after a twelve hour day? What I did when we got home was pour myself a glass of wine and watched Grimm with Pete. Later we talked about how disappointed I was in myself. I really wanted to follow through this time. I talked about getting up and going to yoga anyway the next morning and Pete suggested I just start over. Note: My husband has run an ultra-marathon, he is not weak-willed. I laughed at that suggestion and thought that maybe I would just give in to the mantra once more and quit. Then, I must have felt Patanjali tapping me on the head, because I realized I could just pick it up today. I didn't miss a day because I was feeling lazy, I was following through on a parental obligation that I felt was very important, not to mention I felt terrible. So, I got up and went to yoga this morning for my (almost) twentieth day in a row. I think I will just tack an extra day onto the end to make sure I actually hit thirty days. It feels to me like Patanjali would approve of this arrangement.    

Cauliflower. It's What's for Dinner.

Traditionally I cook meat two to three times a week, fish counting as a meat. Recently Jayne declared herself vegetarian and I've been working on creating interesting vegetarian meals that we all will like and that aren't too labor intensive.  Last night my family was skeptical about the dinner I served. We had cauliflower as a main dish and green beans as a side dish. To our surprise, it was quite filling. I called it mac-n-cheese without the mac. It was really delicious and full of protein.

Mac-n-Cheese without the Mac

1 head of cauliflower, cut into pieces and steamed

2 Tbl butter

2 Tbl flour

1 1/4 cup milk

1 tsp dijon mustard

1/2 cup Tillamook cheddar, grated

1/2 cup fresh parmesan, grated

2 Tbl Italian bread crumbs 

3 Tbl grated cheddar 

Oil a large baking dish. Steam the cauliflower until just tender, drain and place in oiled dish. Then melt the butter in a pan. Stir in the flour until golden brown. Remove from heat and mix in milk and dijon mustard. Return to heat and bring to a boil. Cook over low for two minutes, then remove and stir in 1/2 cup cheddar and 1/2 cup parmesan. Season with salt and pepper. Pour over cauliflower and then mix breadcrumbs and remaining 3 Tbl cheddar, sprinkle over top. Cook in oven until top is golden brown. Serve with something green on the side, spinach, asparagus, green beans.  Serves 4. 

The Illusion of Busyness

      I came to the realization that I have been fooling myself with the illusion of busyness. I have referred to my eighteen year old daughter as a time commitment, when in reality I rarely see her these days. The voice in my head was telling me that grad school was keeping me occupied, but really I was just sitting and twiddling my thumbs waiting for the committee to approve my thesis. How many illusions do we perpetuate in our lives to avoid doing the things that we don't really want to do? Or to avoid those things that are hard but good for us? How often do you go through a drive-thru under the illusion you are too busy to cook? Or skip the gym, yoga for me, because it's too late or you're just too tired? I am committing to no longer allow this illusion to lead me around, at least for a little bit. I sat down today to resume my meditation practice after a very long hiatus. I know that the benefits of meditation are immeasurable, yet it's hard for me to sit and quiet so I use my “busyness” as an excuse. I'm going to face the reality of all this time on my hands and look at it as a gift allowing me to do things that are beneficial for my body, mind, and spirit.

     And so it begins: I went back to our study, pulled out my special cushion (why do we love to buy paraphernalia for our hobbies?), sat down and crossed my legs, draped a blanket over my lap, closed my eyes.....and then my monkey mind started up. Is it my imagination or do I have more weight on my left buttocks, let me see if I can move around to find a balance. OK, now that I've adjusted my sitbones, move back to the breath. Then the dogs start barking and I admonish myself for poor timing. Why on earth would I choose to meditate just as the elementary school down the street gets out? OK, let that go and move back to the breath. I know what will get me focused, a few Ohms will do the trick. I take a deep breath in and start my chanting, yet by the end my mind has moved on to the vibrating sensation the Ohm is causing deep within me. This brings up a thought about the reverberations from the singing bowls used at a kirtan I used to attend in Colorado, I haven't thought of that in a long time. OK, move back to the breath. On and on my monkey mind jumped and then.....it was quiet. I opened my eyes to find that thirty minutes had passed. It's often like that for me, just when I think I'm a lost cause my mind settles down. It doesn't always go that smoothly. I know that it is going to be a gamble when I sit down on my meditation cushion. Somedays it is as though the monkey is all hyped up on Redbull and I leave the cushion frustrated with myself. I think that's why I allow the illusion of busyness to keep me from meditating. These days I can see the ebb and flow in life and when I become stagnant I can sit with it for a while, but I think I'm ready to flow again. It's time to take the Redbull from the monkey and find some peace of mind once more. No matter what life changes are coming my way, I might as well flow with it.  

Things to Do With Avocados

I was given a compliment yesterday about my blog recipes and that's all it took to encourage me to post more. I really love to cook, but I'm not really good at following precise instructions. Please keep that in mind when you decide to try my "recipes" because often I just throw things together without measuring. Any attempt to reproduce is normally a bit haphazard. These two recipes are recent favorites around our house. Jayne likes the avocado smoothie and Pete likes the avocado and tuna, I happen to love them both. We live amongst avocado groves so the use of them as much as possible seems only fitting.

Mina's Avocado Smoothie
1 whole avocado
2 cans Trader Joe's pineapple juice
2 kiwi

Blend and serve, 2 small servings. I sometimes add more pineapple juice to get 3 small servings out of it. I also like to add some plain or vanilla yogurt for a full meal. It travels well too.

Avocado/Tuna 
1 avocado
1 can tuna, drained
1 Tbl mayo
1/4 lime, squeeze and add juice to mayo
cilantro, to your taste
onion, to your taste
salt and pepper if you like

Mix all the ingredients but the avocado together and then spoon it into the avocado and eat. I eat a half for lunch, Pete needs a whole can and a whole avocado. Easy and healthy!

Best Vegetarian Burgers Ever!

For about twenty years now I have been experimenting with vegetarian recipes, but I normally scrunch up my nose when someone talks about a bean burger. They are normally mushy and tasteless in my opinion, but this recipe was awesome! I know when all three of us agree that something is good that I'm onto something, and we agreed these were good. The bonus is the recipe made two batches and I froze the other four individual patties for dinner later in the month, which makes all the work worth it. I got this from Paul McCartney's Meat Free Monday Cookbook, I just made a few changes.

                                 Chickpea, Lentil, Cheese, and Onion Burgers
3 Tbl. Olive Oil                           1/2 cup finely chopped onion
2 cloves of garlic, minced            1 tsp. cumin
1/2 tsp cayenne pepper                1(14oz) can lentils, drained               
1 Tbl. tahini                                 1(14 oz) can chickpeas, drained
2 Tbl. chopped fresh parsley       1 egg
1 1/4 cup plain breadcrumbs       1 cup swiss cheese
1 cup crumbled feta                     salt and pepper to taste
flour, for dusting

1. Heat 1 Tbl. olive oil in skillet and sauté onion for five minutes, add garlic, cumin, cayenne and cook for 30 seconds, remove and let cool.
2. Place both lentils and chickpeas in a bowl and mash, I used a potato masher only because I do not have a food processor, but it worked fine. Add onion mixture, tahini, salt, pepper,parsley, and combine until smooth. Then add egg, breadcrumbs, and cheeses and mix. Shape with your hands into 8 patties then dust with flour.
3. Heat remaining 2 Tbl olive oil in skillet and cook until both sides are golden brown, about 10 minutes per side on medium heat. Serve just like any other burger with whatever toppings you like. If you are going to freeze, shape them into patties first before freezing.