Who Supports Your Highest and Greatest Good?

      I think of myself as a bit of a sociologist. It goes deeper than just people watching for me; I find human interaction fascinating. I think this voyeurism, and I use this term in the most platonic fashion, began when I was a child and realized my family was a world apart from the families of my classmates. Until kindergarten I thought my parents were the coolest people in the whole world. My dad had a thick head of permed hair, wore turquoise jewelry, and drove an El Camino. My mom wore halter tops and bell bottoms and was always listening to classic rock. To this day Fleetwood Macs' Rumours is still one of my favorite albums. My mom was twenty when I entered school and my dad wasn't much older so they seemed incredibly hip to all the other kids; this was the first time I noticed my family was different. Noyes School, and the friends I made there, are what I attribute my “success” in life to, along with the fact that no matter how much we moved around my parents made sure they kept us in good schools. My husband likes to boil everything down to numbers and he informed me that by the time I moved out of my parents house we had moved, on average, every year and a half. If you got a glimpse of my W-2 you might dispute my “success”, but I use a different gauge for success. I have always told Jayne, as John Lennon's mother told him, the key to life is happiness. I believe that a happy life is a successful life. Obviously, nobody escapes life unscathed by troubles and I have had my fair share, but even when “life” as I like to refer to it arises, I still feel an underylying sense of well being even in the midst of trouble.

     I'm not sure how I achieved this state of contentment, but I know it's a gift. I think it's probably a plethora of circumstances...yoga, meditation, a little intuition, a lot of therapy, a few lucky breaks perhaps, and my childhood friends who showed me a different way, namely college. I have tenaciously held onto my friends from Missouri; even when they were busy with their own lives and didn't respond, I hung in there. I recently came back from a visit with these friends, a few I have known for over forty years, and I realized that they were my tethers to this life that I now have. I believe everything happens for a reason, sometimes it takes a while to figure it out, but if you wait long enough it will become clear. I can see now that the reason these women entered my life was to tether me to a better life, a different way of being in the world, and I'm insanely grateful to them. My journey has taken me far from Missouri, yet I know this is where my story began and I feel indebted to my parents for all the lessons they taught me. I have found a supportive, loving, and nurturing partner to share my life with and I surround myself with positive relationships that honor who I am without expectations of what I can do for them. I learned this from my childhood freinds. I thought long and hard on my way home from Kansas City about the way my life has unfolded and I am filled with gratitude. We are all sociologists in our own way, modeling behaviors of those around us, and my hope is that I have shown Jayne how to tether herself to people who will help her meet her full potential as well. My family is like my own personal sociological experiment these days, so the queston of the week has been, “Who will you tether yourself to? Who is going to help bring out your highest and greatest self?” I can firmly answer Becky, Alison, Eve, and Anne. Thanks Ladies, I love and appreciate you more than you could ever know.   

Lessons From The Blue Fish

      

     As I sat in the Miami airport waiting for a connecting flight I found myself reflecting on the quiet ease that seemed to permeate our vacation in Aruba. Even Jayne had little to complain about once she figured out there was WiFi in the resort lobby. This trip, and the luxury of lounging on a white sandy beach for a week, was something I had been looking forward to for months; our vacations normally consist of hiking in a park or visiting family with little down time. As we got closer to our destination I reminded myself that sometimes when I build up an event in my mind it can be sorely lacking. So, as our taxi approached the resort, I took a deep breath and reminded myself to let go of expectations. I reminded myself of this concept throughout the week when things weren't going according to plan; whether we were waiting for a bus that was late, eating a meal that I'm pretty sure was just pan fried chicken covered in Pace picante sauce that cost way too much, or painstakingly navigating our way to a shop only to find it closed. I was determined to roll with whatever came my way this trip and then, on our first day out, I saw a beautiful tropical fish that helped to cement my resolve.

     The resort we stayed at has a private island with water taxis running every fifteen minutes to and from the island. The island consisted of a small outdoor restaurant, a cabana with towels and floats to borrow, another cabana used for private massage, along with two beautiful beaches attached by boardwalks spanning the lagoons and inlets. As we wandered around the first day we stopped on a piece of the boardwalk that extends out over an inlet of water. We stood still quietly looking down into the turquoise water that is synonymous with the Carribbean and noticed it was teaming with life. All sorts of tropical fish had come in away from the open water. I imagined that, like us, these fish had come to this island to rest where it was less turbulent, and one particular fish caught my eye. It was about a foot long, bright blue, and completely at ease in its environment. I observed this beautiful fish floating effortlessly, moving with the small undulations of the inlet as though it was one with the water, for what seemed to stretch into hours, yet, in reality, it was just a few minutes. As I stood on the boardwalk in that moment I realized that I don't take the time to stop and truly see what is in front of me nearly often enough. I practiced this “being in the moment” mindset throughout the rest of the week and I can say it was the best vacation that we (notice I wrote “we”, not just me) have had in years. I'm not sure if my attitude was contagious or the island attitude swept us all away, but it was a magical week, imperfections and all. I just hope to remember this experience as life comes roaring back at me tomorrow.  Perhaps I'll print out a copy of the tropical blue fish and put it on my kitchen pantry for inspiration.         

Learning To Be Soft

     We live in a quaint little town in Southern California that prides itself on its ties to the past when it was once the biggest producer of citrus in the world. Our house is on a main street that is near a local elementary school. When you live in a small town like this and you live on a main street, just about everyone knows where you live. We love our little ranch house and the neighborhood its in, but when our daughter hit middle school we began to question our choice of locations. We have been vandalized too many times to count in the last four years. It started with teepeeing, that was not a big deal, then they moved on to eggs, then nasty messages scrawled on our picket fence, our daughters car has been egged, written on with crayon, bananas stuffed in the tail pipe, feces smeared on our garage door, a bottle of urine thrown into our yard, it has been pretty brutal emotionally on all of us. Jayne is now a senior and it feels like things are beginning to settle down or, as my grandma used to say, “God willing and the creek don't rise...” I learned on Friday night that I might just have a minor case of post traumatic stress syndrome related to our teen vandals. I have been pretty unnerved at my own behavior on Friday and was talking with a friend today about the whole incident, as we laughed at my ridiculous behavior, I decided the incident was the perfect topic for me to blog about.

     This past Friday Jayne was out with friends, and she checked in and said she would be home around 2 AM, as they were watching movies at a friend's house. Around 1:45 our dogs started barking, so we assumed Jayne was home. Yet they continued to bark, so I pulled on my robe and headed out to see what was going on. As I looked out the back fence I noticed our neighbors were getting teepeed; the kids were still at it even though it looked to me like every square inch of their front yard was covered in toilet paper. I stepped out and said, “It's late and you're keeping us up. Enough!” Some of them ran giggling, which is what I expected, but a few of them kept up with their assault on our neighbors' trees. I said in what I hoped was an even more focreful voice, “Enough. Our dogs are barking and keeping up the whole neighborhood.” As I stood in the driveway clad only in a robe and bare-feet, one of the girls began barking and running at me, and then she threw a roll of toilet paper at my head! She missed, but I felt like a dam broke inside of me and I ran after her (there were two cars waiting for them). I began to bang my fists on the mini-vans windows screaming obscenities at them until they tore out, then I moved on to the little blue hatchback and started to bang on the window screaming that they were vandals and that I was taking their license and calling the police. At this point the poor girl behind the wheel was pleading with me that they were just teenagers having fun and to leave them alone. She then took off in pursuit of her friends. They came back a few minutes later hanging out of the mini-van screaming and hurling eggs at our driveway, but I suppose I brought that one on myself.

     Since then, besides frequently chuckling at the image of the crazed yoga teacher running down the street in a robe and swearing at teenagers, I have been questioning my lack of control. Was I not the adult in the situation? Or is it simply that I had a human moment? I don't lose my cool very often; I can think of only four times in almost eighteen years of parenting that I regret my behavior with Jayne. I have certainly made more than four mistakes as a parent, but most of the time when I make mistakes my intention is fueled by love, not anger. Through this incident with the teens I have found new insight. Perhaps it is in those times that my anger gets the best of me that I can learn the most. I have held myself up to some pretty high standards and when I don't meet them and my own humanness shines through, I am quick to condemn myself. If I can learn to forgive myself my mistakes then maybe I can begin to more quickly forgive the people I love their own mistakes. So next time I lose it and do something wacky I am going to try and let it roll off and move on without allowing self-deprecating thoughts to go on for days. I'm going to try and be soft on myself so that I can be soft with the world.

Does Juicing Dandelion Greens Make Me a Hippie?

 

 I have always thought of myself as a bit of a hippie chic, but I was born too late to truly call myself a child of the sixties.  As I recently sifted through stacks of old pictures for a project Jayne's grandmother is making for her graduation gift, I came across this picture of me when I was six or seven.  Check out the groovy headband, perhaps I was quickly reincarnated and actually did experience Woodstock. Here is what I did with some dandelion greens a friend just gave me today, you can also throw them into a green salad.

Juice:

Three big handfuls of dandelion greens

Two oranges

Serves 1

My Experience With Seva

      The notion that we are all connected seems to be a recurring theme in my life of late. This morning as I sat with my friend Mina quietly catching up, I spoke to her of my neighbor Gabe (pronounced Gay-bee...she's German). Gabe has become very dear to me and, in her own way, is helping to fill a hole that has been left by my strained relationship with my mother. She is eighty-five years old and is losing her sight to macular degenerative disease. We spend time together each week doing different activities, depending upon what she needs. I have picked up her cleaning, taken her to the mall when she is running out of facial products, fixed an alarm clock, deliver dinners, or sometimes we just sit and I listen to her stories as we sip tea and she holds my little dachshund Gobi. Gobi is how this connection began. Our daughter wanted a little dog, something Pete and I had never contemplated; we considered ourselves “big dog” people. German Shepards, Labs, Rhodesian Ridgebacks, that we know, but a fifteen pounder? Jayne found Gobi at a pet rescue where he immediately stole her heart, and we set up a one on one visit with him. One look at that adorable, long haired weenie dog and we were all in agreement, he needed to come home with us. What we didn't know is that weenie dogs are infamous for barking, and boy did he live up to the reputation.

     One day, shortly after Gobi arrived, a woman was at our back gate trying to rouse my attention over the cacophony of dog barking. I went to the gate and let her in, she said she heard we had a Dachshund. I thought she meant word was getting around about my yippie dog, then I realized she could not see and literally meant she heard him. It seems her mother had raised doxies in Germany and she owned one until recently when her eye sight became too poor. When she found herself tripping over her own dachshund (they love to hide under your feet), she decided she had to give him up. The love that shone in her face as she held Gobi for the first time was wondrous and I immediately felt that the universe put this dog in our path for her. I asked if Gobi and I could come for an occassional visit and a freindship was born. She is a fascinating woman who survived Hitler's Germany, met and married an American Airforce pilot, and then left everything she knew behind to come to America. Mina pointed out that I am practicing seva, or selfless service, each time I sit with Gabe. I pondered this idea; it doesn't feel like a “service” when I'm with her, it warms my heart to be in a relationship with this beautiful woman, which is exactly what seva should do. There is a reverence that accompanies practicing seva. A highly spiritual motivation lies behind one's actions and it is palpable to both the giver and the receiver. Truly seva is an experience of our interconnectedness.

     The Dalai Lama says that “given the scale of life in the cosmos, one human life is no more than a tiny blip. Each one of us is a just visitor to this planet, a guest, who will only stay for a limited time. What greater folly could there be than to spend this short time alone, unhappy or in conflict with our companions? Far better, surely, to use our short time here in living a meaningful life, enriched by our sense of connection with others and being of service to them”. I believe that an abundance of gifts have come my way thanks to seva, and I'm not talking material abundance. I feel loved and appreciated in ways now that I had only read about in self-help books before. I have started to truly love and appreciate myself, somethng that was elusive to me in my youth, and feel content on most days with exactly where I am. Through each experience of seva that I undertake I find I am able to open my heart more and more to the people that are in front of me. I guess I now know why the Beatles lyrics “the love you take is equal to the love you make” has been my mantra for so may years; I was destined to practice seva, just as the Dalai Lama says we all should do.          

Grapefruit and Fennel Juice Anyone?

I made this juice for our breakfast and it was yummy.  

2 grapefruit

1 green apple

1/2 bulb of fennel

1 large sprig of mint

Serves 2

The Best Green Chile Chicken Soup Ever

I love to cook, but when I'm feeling lazy I normally turn to a soup recipe that I can put on and we can eat whenever we feel like it.  Last night I mixed up a wonderful chicken soup with some stuff I had in my cupboard and I think it was the best chicken soup I have ever had.  It has a little spice to it, and I'm a bit of a "spice wimp", so I added a dollop of sour cream and some shredded cheddar cheese, Pete added tabasco!

                                            Green Chile Chicken Soup Recipe

2 Tbl olive oil                                                                2 organic carrots, chopped
2 organic chicken breast                                                1 can of corn
1 medium onion, chopped                                             1 Tbl cumin
2 cloves of garlic, minced                                              1 tsp thyme
1 can rotel tomatoes                                                       1 tsp marjoram
1 can whole green chiles, 4 oz, chopped                       1 tsp oregano
2 cups chicken broth
2 stalks of celery, diced
2 medium potatoes, cubed

Heat the oil in a large soup pot over medium heat.  Add onion, garlic, and chicken.  Cook until chicken is browned, remove chicken and cut into small pieces.  Add to the onion and garlic the carrots, celery, cumin, thyme, marjoram, oregano, and cook over medium to low heat for five minutes then return the chicken and add all the other ingredients.  Cook for two hours, checking to see if water is needed.  The consistency is almost stew like, so do not add too much water.  Serve with a warm sourdough bread on the side.
Serves 4