Who Knew I was Practicing Lojong?

We learn at a young age how to react to the world. We mimic the behaviors of our primary caregivers. Part of this is survival instinct; we want to fit in. Another theory is the nature versus nurture controversy. How much of what we do is simply repeating the habits of our parents, grandparents, siblings? How much is our inherent nature? This has always been a subject that fascinates me, hence the Psychology degree, and lately I've been ruminating over my penchant for drama. As a youth I loved drama. For years all my dad and I had to talk about was other people...these days we don't have much to say to each other, but we've found an equilibrium.

I have had more than a few dramas lately, giving me the opportunity to practice lojong.

I didn't realize I was practicing lojong until I read Pema Chodron today. Lojong is a Buddhist teaching that states “whichever of the two occurs, be patient”; whether the situation is painful or pleasurable, sit with it and wait to react.

What I realized is that I may announce to the world that my finger is “possibly broken” when in actuality it's just badly injured. Yes, still a bit of drama in me, yet when it comes to the big stuff I've learned the ways of lojong. There have been interactions with others recently that could have gone terribly wrong, yet I chose to sit and wait before reacting.

As I continue on this path I might allow my drama queen to come out now and again, but at least I'm the only one involved in my drama.

Holy Cow Batman, I Got Published!

I got a yoga article published in Elephant Journal. Please read, the more hits I get the more likely it will be promoted. Thanks all!

http://www.elephantjournal.com/2014/11/whatever-happened-to-the-eightfold-path-in-yoga/

Where Does All This Deep Thinking Come From?

     I spent most of last week alone, which is normally an uncomfortable place for me, but not this time...which was a pleasant surprise. I found that I enjoyed my own company, that I relished eating whenever I wanted, walked the dogs only if I felt like it, and I meditated to my heart's content. I think a catalyst for this positive experience was a series offered by Shambhala Mountain Center called Awake in the World. I received an email invitation to participate in this free function that just happened to be offered the week that Pete was gone. I made a mental commitment that I would participate every day, which meant anywhere from one to three hours of webcast each night, depending on how many I chose to participate in. This webcast stimulated so much deep, contemplative thinking within me that I feel compelled to get some of my thoughts down in words.

Here's what I took away from this week of study:

• We live in a perpetual state of speediness, yet where do we think we're going? The world is round.
• Compassion can only come through empathy; sympathy places me above you. So I will continue to remind myself to meet people eye to eye with an empathy for their suffering.
• Through meditation I quiet my mind. Quieting my mind allows me to return to the world more present. This present moment is all there is, and now the moment is gone and I'm on to the next one.
• Everything is impermanent, so why do we get so attached to the ups and downs of our lives? The good times will pass and the bad times will pass. Floating on the waves of my emotions is my goal.
• I will work to accept those I love (including myself) just as they are, knowing that good days and bad days are both a part of this love thing.

     In the Buddhist tradition there is no good/bad, there just is; but I find it hard to express myself without this dichotomy.  I write this in the hope that my ramblings might inspire you to stay present to the kick ass moments as well as those moments of total sucky-ness this week.  

Love is…..

I have stood shoulder to shoulder with you for a lifetime.

There were times that I wanted to run away from your hatefulness.

There were times I felt you were my only refuge as you held me tight.

There were times I lashed out in anger and I was met with overwhelming compassion.

There were times that I was soft and loving and I was shunned.

After all this time we still stand,

shoulder to shoulder, trying to figure out how to love each other.

Raw, ugly, beautiful, tender......it is all encompassing.  

A Snapshot of Kansas City

     The skies had been gray for days, and the threat of rain hung heavy in the air. It was the last day of my visit and I found myself sitting at the River Market Emporium. Exhausted, I stared in no particular direction waiting for my friends to join me. As I sat with my hands wrapped around a hot coffee mug, my attention was drawn to a young family seated at a table to the right of me. The man is barely twenty with his hair pulled back in a long, dark braid, a star tattoo visible on his neck. Anger is emanating from him like steam from dry ice. The woman, presumably the mother, sits across from him completely mesmerized by her cellphone and seemingly oblivious to the children. Next to the table is a double stroller. I thought what a clever design it was. The older child, a girl of no more than two, was sitting in a basket next to the man and was elevated higher than the younger child who sat in a basket facing the older sibling on a lower level. My awareness was pulled to their table by the stirrings of the older child in the stroller. In my sleep deprived state I felt nostalgic and wistfully watched the needy child with a certain expectation.
     The sweet scene is suddenly shattered with a horrible flick of the hand. As if in slow motion, the child in the elevated seat moves her hands to hover over her ears; eyes wide, a shudder moves from her head, vibrating down the length of her body. A sudden picture of Munch's Scream flashes across my mind. The man’s hand has come and gone so fast I thought for a moment I had imagined it. I jerk my head in his direction and we make eye contact. His disdain for my judgment, my shock, my gender, is palpable and I glance away in fear. My eyes move back to the child, her mouth is quivering, her eyes are filled with tears and my heart breaks. The man leans over and yanks the bonnet down on the stroller to shield himself from the child he has just punched in the ear. With the movement I hear “Don't you cry” and he gets up to leave, my assumption is to go to the bathroom. I'm stunned at having witnessed such a twisted, intimate scene when I remember the mother. My hopes are suddenly buoyed for the child as I look to her for some kind of justice, but I quickly see that will not happen.

“The eye never forgets what the heart has seen.”~an African proverb

I will not forget that child.

The Werewolf

     I have been running as long as I can remember. Age is catching up to me now though, and, after a long bout of resistance, I gave in and purchased a road bike. Now I find myself cruising the streets of Redlands three nights a week for cardio. I'm a creature of habit and quickly fell into a routine route. Each night I head up the steep roads that lead to Sunset, a windy path that skirts a ridge around the south side of town. On one side of the street there are well appointed houses filled, in my imagination, with doctors and college professors and on the other side of the street there is a steep drop off to the canyon below. I ride at dusk, timing carefully so as not to be out in the darkness, as the prolific stories of mountain lions are probably wildly exaggerated, but I'm not taking any chances. I stop at the top of the hill and pull over to the side of the road for a water break. As I pull my bottle out of it's holder something catches my eye from down in the canyon. The irrigation system has just turned off and the remaining light is catching the water laden oranges reminding me of glitter-covered Christmas orbs. A train speeds toward the crossing below, slicing through the groves as it blasts its horn in warning. For some reason a chill runs up my spine as the horn blows.

     As I drink I realize it's been a quiet night. Normally I see a plethora of other bicyclists on the route, but tonight has been exceptionally lonely. I glance to my left and notice the ancient cemetery that sits high above our town. I haven't given it much thought in the past, but tonight it draws my attention. I remember reading in the paper that the cemetery is the source of many of the purported mountain lion sitings. I'm a reasonably seasoned outdoors woman and I know that animal encounters, especially in a city, are rare, but I'm feeling on edge tonight. I slide my water bottle back into the metal holder on the frame of my bike and begin to make my way home. I peddle toward the end of the cemetery wall where it ends at an awkward four way stop. As I approach the stop sign I begin to notice a strange sound coming from the other side of the cemeteries boundary wall, something I think might be mechanical, yet seems strangely human.

     When I reach the four-way stop there are no cars around, yet the noise grows louder. I swing around the corner and notice another cyclist heading up the steep hill. The noise seems to be coming from his bike. I wait at the stop sign for a moment as he approaches, thinking I might need to offer him some assistance from the sounds of things. As he gets closer I can see he's in his late twenties, he's fit, and his bald head is glinting with sweat. He has a long, bushy beard that seems somehow incongruent with the picture. I sit at the top of the hill as he draws nearer, and once more I notice the strange unease that has plagued me the whole ride. I suddenly realize the noise is not coming from his bike, but he himself is emitting a loud guttural sound. He comes to a stop just below me on the other side of the road. He sets his feet down on either side of his bike and raises his arms skyward, he looks into my eyes, his mouth drops open and he spews out a ferocious howl. His face is contorted in anger, at what I don't know. I'm filled with sheer terror as I picture the werewolf of my youth and I begin to peddle like hell down the hill to get away from him. My adrenaline is pumping and I ride hard, glancing back every so often to make sure I'm not being followed. I pull into my driveway and open the back gate sliding my bike through. I slump over the bike and suck in a huge breath, sighing it out, I rise back up. I'm not sure what I just saw, but I'm once more sure there are things that I will go to my grave not understanding.

Newton's Third Law

I believe hate fuels violence. This morning I woke with a deep sense of sadness as my thoughts drifted to the Las Vegas shootings and the hate that fueled them. I often practice the metta meditation (a Buddhist style of meditation that means loving kindness) in the morning before I get up and get going, probably an excuse to linger under the covers longer, but it's a good way to spend my time excuse or not. I traditionally start with Pete and Jayne and then move on to the people in my life that might be struggling. This morning I chose to send loving kindness to all those involved in the Las Vegas shootings, including the shooters.

As I lay in bed my thoughts drifted to how the gun wielding, anti-government couple came to be in Nevada and that thread lead back to the Cliven Bundy standoff with the BLM and then a little thought bubble rose up, “For every action there is a reaction" or so says Isaac Newton's Third Law. 

Had Mr. Bundy paid his fees for using public land to graze his cattle would this have happened? In my opinion, probably not. The Miller's perceived that Mr. Bundy's protest was a way to further what they called “the revolution” and they seized the opportunity. I realize that the Bundy family kicked this couple off of their land citing them as “too radical”, but still I find them, at least in part, morally culpable. For every action there is a reaction.

I know that had it not been Mr. Bundy there very well may have been another catalyst for this hate fueled couple, but then again they may have died in a fiery car crash before the opportunity arose.

Instinctually I know this might be a divisive blog, but that is not my goal. My goal is to get each of us to think about our actions. For each of us to understand there is a ripple effect that moves out from our actions, from our words, and to consciously choose positive, to let go of our fears, and to allow love to fuel our actions.

“We cannot live only for ourselves. A thousand fibers connect us with our fellow men; and among those fibers, as sympathetic threads, our actions run as causes, and they come back to us as effects.” ~Herman Melville

The Coyote

He steps into the street and wavers

Mangy, matted, alone

We make eye contact

I reach toward him to touch his fear

and he is gone

Back into the tall grass where he will huddle 'til nightfall

Scared and pack less he waits for death

As I drove my usual route to work today I ran into a detour. The road I normally take is closed for repaving so I take a right and head for the highway. As I come around a bend in the road a coyote, he's in bad shape and it takes a moment to register what I'm looking at, steps out from the grassy open space and stands in front of my car stunned by the traffic. We make eye contact for a moment and my heart cracks with overwhelming sadness. Tears roll down my face as I head toward the next class I am scheduled to teach. Once more I find myself engaged in a one person conversation about what just happened. I must get it together in order to be there for my students, yet the helplessness I feel for not being able to help another creature in pain lingers. Then I remember a quote I read recently,

"Be kind, for everyone you meet is fighting a great battle." ~Philo of Alexandria  

And so my day marches on. 

This is What Pre-Diabetes Looks Like

I'm forty-eight years old. I'm five feet six inches tall and I weigh 133 pounds. I have taught yoga for the past fifteen years. I walk at least twenty miles a week, often on steep trails with my mountain goat of a husband, and can be found hiking in Joshua Tree National Park or the San Bernardino Mountains on the weekends. I ate meat once or twice a week, I had an occasional soda (my crack of bygone days), I was juicing with my lunch every day, I meditate on a mostly daily basis, and I have pre-diabetes. It's actually called insulin resistance, but the old school term of pre-diabetes gives a little clearer picture of what I'm dealing with, I think.

When the doctor announced my diagnosis I was like, “What the fuck?” Excuse the language, but I was pretty shocked to hear this diagnosis. People who don't eat right get diabetes. People who don't exercise get diabetes. People like me DON'T get diabetes. I'm also not an idiot and the tests were very clear, I have a resistance to insulin. The doctor talked with me for over an hour about the genetic component and the fact that had I not been taking care of myself all these years that my condition would probably have been pretty obvious. Her guess, because of numerous anomalies in my health history, is that I've had this condition for years but no one thought to look. The healthy, active, juice loving yoga teacher couldn't be teetering on the edge of diabetes, so no need to check for that.

I'm now forty days into my carb detox and this is what I know: I feel better. I'm sleeping through the night without allergy pills. I have more energy for chores. My face is somehow healthier looking, one of those “I can't put my finger on it” kinda' things. I've lost five pounds. All of this positive change just by changing the way I eat. That's it. Everything else is the same.

I started wondering how many of my fellow “carbotarians” are silently carrying this condition as well. Insulin resistance means that my body doesn't use insulin efficiently, so my pancreas has to make a lot more insulin to regulate my blood glucose. So, because I have this issue, it might take my body five times more insulin than normal to bring my blood glucose back down to a healthy level (Hart/Grossman, 7). The latest statistics show that twenty five percent of Americans, or one in four, have this condition (http://www.rightdiagnosis.com/i/insulin_resistance/prevalence.htm). Insulin is one of the major hormones in the body and when it's out of whack everything else can become thrown off, such as: estrogen, testosterone, progesterone, it can contribute to high blood pressure, thyroid issues, heart disease, and a plethora of other physical ailments.

When I began to look around for guidance I became frustrated because the majority of the information out there on the internet assumes I did this to myself. Lose weight, exercise, change your diet, and then...no more insulin issues. The reality is insulin resistance is not only a lifestyle issue but a genetic issue as well. The way I ate before was clean and healthy, but it wasn't right for my genetic make-up. I now understand that. For my body I must balance my protein to carb ratio more equally. I cannot exist only on quinoa, pasta, oat bran, grainy breads, with a heaping side of fruit and veggies. I have to increase protein so that my body can process the carbs more efficiently.

I don't think everyone out there has this issue, nor do I think my way of living/eating is right for everyone, but there will be some of you that resonate with my experience. If you are living on fried food, potatoes, grains, Lean Cuisines, pasta, if you crave sweets, if you carry extra pounds (all in the belly area), you might just have some insulin issues as well. The simple fix is to balance the number of carbs you are taking in to protein. I think perhaps, in my hippie leaning ways, I may have thrown the baby out with the bathwater. Now that I have returned to eating (mostly) how my Midwest ancestors ate: eggs for breakfast (bagel thin on the side), turkey and cheese on my salad for lunch, chicken and a heaping side of veggies for dinner, I feel amazing. After the last forty days, as my sugar cravings are subsiding, I know I will continue on this path to optimum health for my body. Wishing you all a healthy summer filled with a heightened intuition that will guide you to eat what your body needs as well.   

Kale Salad Recipe for People Who Don't Like Kale

Pete is not the kale fan that I am, and yes, you are sensing my judgement that this is indeed a character flaw. Last week when I made this salad his response was, "Well, if we have to have kale, this is the way to have it." It's quick and easy to make and it's the only salad that I know of that taste better the next day. I strongly recommend using black kale (also known as Tuscan kale) which is in season right now. I got this recipe from Andrew Weil's True Foods cookbook. I have adapted it a bit and you can double it easily.

1/4 cup olive oil                             1/8 cup fresh lemon juice
3 cloves of garlic, mashed             1/2 tsp salt
red pepper flakes to your taste       1 bunch of kale, ribs removed and shredded
3/4 grated fresh parmesan

1. In a salad bowl, whisk together the olive oil, lemon juice, garlic, salt, and red pepper flakes.
2. Add the kale and mix well to coat. Let stand at room temperature for 10 to 30 minutes.
3. Add the grated parmesan and mix well before serving.

                             Makes 4 servings. 146 calories per serving, 0 carbs, and 2.5 protein.

Thoughts on Sibling's Day

Did Sibling's Day catch you by surprise too? I've never heard of it before this year and then only because my sister posted a picture on Facebook and tagged me, that's the picture on the left. Sibling's Day for me brought on an intense melancholy that I can't seem to shake. The circumstances surrounding my brother's death were curious. Jack's emotional wounds were too deep to overcome, but I believe, had he chosen more discerningly when selecting a partner, his story may have played out differently. It got me thinking about our choices in life...especially our choice of life partners.

I use the words “life partner” because it might be a friend or relative that you've had in your life for years; it might be your mother (she says with tongue in cheek). If they are not serving your highest and greatest good, then why do we keep them in our lives? Habit.                                               Social norms. Delusion. Ah, the amazing, complicated psyche.

I am not denying personal responsibility when it comes to steering our lives, but who we have around us matters. Jack chose a toxic partner, but I suppose that was their karma to work out.

Here is what I know of my choice in partners: Pete challenges me and I challenge him. I didn't always appreciate this quality in him, but I think that is where the magic lies. It is easy to have a yes man/woman in your life, but harder to have someone that challenges your world view. The thing is, having someone you love and respect challenge your world view is where growth comes from.

I have a friend, a really straight-laced, khaki pants, sport jacket kind of guy, who once said to me “You are really a seeker Lisa.” I liked that. I also like that Pete and I worked through all our shit to get to this good place. This place where we can appreciate input from our partner; sometimes I change my course based on Pete's input, sometimes I don't, but I greatly appreciate the love and respect he gives me as he tells me he doesn't see it the way I see it. What I took away from Sibling's Day was to choose your partner well. It can make all the difference for those of us seekers trying to create a happy life.

In my quietest moments, those moments where there's a crack in time and I hover between dream and reality, that's when my imagination wanders; I create a life for my brother in great, painful, detail...and then I wake, wishing once more that he had chosen differently.

Lemon Chicken with Rice Pilaf and Apraragus

I've been on a cooking binge lately and when I saw this recipe I was a little hesitant, I'm not a chicken thigh fan. However, the recipe called for 12 lemons and I have more lemons then I can use right now. I'm not complaining, being a Missouri girl I still marvel at having my own citrus trees. As you can probably guess since I'm putting the recipe on my blog, it was amazing!! I cut the recipe in half and it worked out fine. It's not necessarily a low calorie recipe due to the fat content in a chicken thigh, I guesstimated about 800 calories for the meal, but the ingredients are all healthy.

Lemon Chicken with Rice Pilaf and Asparagus

12 chicken thighs, bone in, skin on (free range if possible)

1/2 tsp salt

freshly ground pepper

1/2 cup olive oil

1 1/2 cup lemon juice (about 12 lemons)

2 Tbl. red wine vinegar

8 cloves of garlic, minced

1 tsp red pepper flakes (I doubled this)

2 Tbl. dried oregano

1/4 cup fresh parsley (optional) *

1. Preheat oven to 425. Rinse chicken thighs and pat dry. Place thighs skin side up in an oiled baking dish, sprinkling the thighs with salt and pepper. Bake for 35 minutes.

2. While chicken is baking whisk the olive oil slowly into the lemon juice, I used my braun hand blender to create an emulsion. Add vinegar, garlic, red pepper, oregano, and parsley; whisk well.

3. Remove chicken after 35 minutes and drain fat from pan. Pour the lemon sauce over the chicken and return to oven for another 15 minutes. 

4. I served this with Near East rice pilaf (follow the directions on the box) and I put the asparagus on the grill, brushing them with a mixture of lemon/olive oil/pepper/garlic, this has become our favorite way to eat asparagus. I put the rice on the plate first, then the chicken on the rice (I had some caramelized onions in the fridge so I added them to the rice and chicken) then poured some lemon sauce over the whole thing. To my surprise, the chicken thighs were delicious! 

*Parsley is not my favorite, but it is a great source of vitamin C and K. Here is a link outlining the other benefits of parsley: http://www.whfoods.com/genpage.php?tname=foodspice&dbid=100

Wok Aromatics? This Stuff Rocks!

 

Andrew Weil and his work is what got me started on this healthy path to eating almost twenty years ago. Each time I go to Phoenix I make it a point to go to his restaurant True Foods, when I found out they had a cookbook I had to order it. Tonight I made his chicken teriyaki served over brown rice. It was really good, but what truly put it over the top was the wok aromatic you add to the stir fry. Freeze what is left, adding two tablespoons for every four servings of stir fry, serve over rice or quinoa. 

Wok Aromatics

1 lemongrass stalk, thinly sliced (about 1/3 cup)

1/3 cup fresh ginger

5 or 6 green onions, white part only, coarsely chopped

1 1/2 tsp. sambal oelek chili paste

Cut the lemongrass and ginger across the fibrous stalks, then combine the first three ingredients and blend in a food processor until finely minced. Transfer to a lidded jar and mix in chile paste. Use immediately and freeze what is leftover.  

This stuff is totally worth the work. It made the stir fry tonight…delicious!  

A Coming Out of Sorts

Religion, or my perceived lack of, has been a recurring theme of late. As a yoga teacher my faith has been questioned for years and my soul has been lovingly worried over by family and friends who harbor a strong Christology. So, this is a coming out of sorts: I teach yoga, I love and honor all religions, but my DNA is Christian. I'm even a card carrying member of the Methodist Church these days. Granted, it's a very liberal group of Christians that I hang with who are comfortable enough with their own faith to embrace my Buddhist leaning ways.

However, I do not feel that my religion of birth is the only path to salvation, I have too many non-Christian friends for that kind of arrogance. I embrace and revere all religions. I have become teary-eyed at the beauty of a Diwali ceremony, at the reading of the Torah, sitting and meditating in front of a towering Buddha, or reciting The Lord's Prayer. My faith is rooted deep and the study and appreciation of other traditions is, in my opinion, only strengthening my commitment to Christian values.

Through the study of yoga and its philosophy I'm much more intent on cultivating the values of peaceful humility and compassion as taught by Christ these days then I ever was before and I'm pretty confident that if I ran into Jesus at a coffee shop and struck up a conversation (I'm wont to do that) that he would approve of how I'm living my life. So my religion is something I practice daily, not just the three times a year I show up at church. I think Ziggy Marley said it best "love is my religion" and I think Jesus would be ok with that.

Meatless "Meat"balls Done Three Ways

This holiday season we went for some unique choices for our main courses as we try to cut down our meat consumption. I made my first vegetarian nut loaf for Christmas, which I will not share with you since it was weird and made me sad. However, for New Years Day I scored BIG on my "meat"balls. I adapted a recipe I found at Very Innovative Parties and my guess is this will be a "go to" recipe in the future for me. I cooked them with a sweet and sour sauce, recipe below as well. 

Here is the basic recipe for the "meat"balls: 

5 eggs(yes, you need them all) 

3/4 cup shredded cheddar cheese (Tillamook cheddar is my favorite, but any cheese would work)

1/2 of a medium onion, roughly chopped

1 cup nuts (walnuts or pecans)

1 tsp dried basil

1 tsp dried sage

4 slices of any nutty whole wheat bread (torn by hand works fine, pretty small pieces)

1. Mix all ingredients in a food processor till well blended if you have one. I don’t have a food processor so I used my braun hand mixer, start with the nuts and onion and blend until paste like, then add the other ingredients and mix by hand.  

2. The mixture will be wet, but you should be able to scoop up a bit and form it into a ball. If not, add more breadcrumbs. I used 1/4 cup of Italian breadcrumbs from my pantry. Form into balls, a small ice cream scooper works well, then place in a baking dish. It’s ok if they’re touching and spread a little.

3. If you are going to use them in place of meatballs with pasta or to bbq, they can be cooked plain at 350 degrees for about 30-40 minutes. They are done when lightly toasted and dry to the touch. The "meat"balls can be used immediately or frozen. 

Sweet and Sour Sauce:

Follow the recipe above until step 2, then make the following sauce:

1/2 cup olive oil

1/4 cup vinegar

1 cup apricot jam or preserves 

1 cup ketchup

1 tsp oregano or basil

Dash of hot sauce (or more)

1. Mix all ingredients in a medium bowl, whisking till well blended.

2. Pour over the prepared meatballs, being sure to cover all of them.

3. Bake at 350 degrees for 45 minutes.

4. These can be served the day they are made, but they are actually better the next day. 

Two other uses for the "meat"balls:

Put the already cooked balls in a crockpot and cover with BBQ sauce. Cook until heated through. Serve as a main course with sides of your choice.

Add balls to a jar of spaghetti sauce and serve over pasta.