bridges

After so many months spent adjusting to new life rhythms this year, these past few weeks have brought me all-new paths to travel. Ryan is still away on tour (but coming home soon!), and being home without him always requires adjustments. And what is normally my very part-time job has needed me full-time. I am happy to say it is a job I love, and I count myself so lucky in this. But being so much busier has thrown so much else up into the air. So many of the patterns I have established over all these months have been set aside, let go in favor of the pressing work at hand. It feels like I am losing hold of all that I have been reaching toward all these months. It makes me anxious to let these things go, even for a time- I am afraid that I will lose ground or not be able to find my way again later.

All this upheaval in my daily life patterns leaves me feeling like I am neither here nor there, which is perhaps one of my most challenging obstacles. This interruption of my established "flow" sets everything on edge, and especially my creativity. I had just begun to feel more in control, more firmly on my way toward reaching my creative ambitions. Part of me longs for things to be back as they were. But I can recognize so much good in some of these changes, so much inspiration and sense of purpose as I spend my days in new ways. Just because these new paths are uncomfortable at times does not mean they are not good for me. And maybe the longing for things-as-they-were is exactly what will keep the fires of my creativity stoked and burning brightly. 

It occurred to me yesterday, as I sat down to write my morning pages, that perhaps I should visualize myself on a bridge right now. This place where I now find myself is clearly in-between where I have been and where I will go next. I felt like my feet were on solid ground before, and that was the side of the bridge where I entered. Now I am in between. I cannot settle in here, or establish lasting patterns from this current place. I know that where I am right now is not going to last much longer. And I do not yet know where the bridge will lead me next. I can not see the other side clearly, to know what ground it is that will support my feet next. But it is the nature of bridges to lead you somewhere - this much I know.

And while I fear the process of letting-go which stepping onto the bridge requires, I am grateful for the perspective I gain in looking back on the ground that supported me before. I am grateful for the sense of longing I feel, this deep-seated desire to get back to my creative practice. I appreciate that ground more than I did before, and I have high hopes for the ground I will discover on the other side of the bridge, hoping that I am being led somewhere even more wonderful than before. I look forward to planting myself again on that new ground, using all the gifts of learning I have gained through this perspective. And so instead of letting panic reign as I am suspended high above the water, I will try to soak in all that I am seeing and learning and experiencing in this crossing. I will try to let go and love the in-between.

feeling fall

I hope very much that your October is off to a great start! I know it is October 2nd and that it has officially been "Fall" for almost two weeks. But for some reason, today is the first day when I have really felt like Fall is in full-swing. Our schedule has been busier than usual, and perhaps today is the first chance I have had to really absorb what is taking place in nature surrounding me. Today the leaves are dancing up and down streets in a rich spectrum of gold and red and green. They illustrate the movement of the wind as it whips forward and then back again, causing them to swirl in unison, dancing fancy pirouettes.

One of my favorite Fall traditions is our annual trip to Kuiper's Family Farm, a nearby apple orchard and pumpkin farm. I think we love the orchard shop as much as the rows of apple trees themselves- so many delicious treats await, including their famous apple cider doughnuts. (YUM. Definitely go try them, if you ever get the chance.)

As I grow older, I am less and less fond of the shorter days of sunlight and bitter cold which Winter brings. Accordingly, I have sort of held the Fall accountable, lumping it together with its colder sibling-season next in line. But this year I have tried to practice more appreciation and gratitude for each season in its own right. And there are many, many reasons I am grateful for Fall in the Midwest. Curling up in cozy sweaters as I tug my cuffs down over my knuckles and wrap myself more tightly; spending more hours with my fingers woven into soft, lovely yarn as my knitting projects occupy more and more of my time; wrapping my hands round a hot mug of tea. The warmth of sunlight contrasted with the crisp chill of the wind that seems to grow fiercer with each passing day, gearing up for Winter cold. Layering sweaters and jackets, scarves and socks and boots to stand tall and strong and steady against these winds. And the settling in that happens, as we tuck ourselves inside, turning our awareness to our little home and the lovely comforts which surround us there. These are just a few things I love about Fall.

More than ever, I have the strong sense that it is time for me to get down to business, and especially creatively. Ryan is away for a couple of weeks on tour, and that leaves me time to focus even more attention on my creative dreams and ambitions. I am going to soak up the sun and chill and swirling leaves and let them settle deep within, and see how they will wring out of me as I write in these next couple of weeks. I am happy to have you along for the journey. (Thank you!)

Are you feeling Fall in full swing yet? What does Fall signify for you?

an occasion

Yesterday, as I shared, was a very gloomy day, one of those days when you feel down in the dumps and unable to muster up energy for anything. Least of all, the things you should be doing... at least that's how it goes on my gloomy days. I am industrious and driven by nature. I like to stay productive, I like to accomplish goals, I like to keep on moving and get something done, and as many "somethings" as possible, if I'm being honest. "Gloomy" is not something you do - it is something you are. Gloom had moved me to the realm of "being," which remains less familiar territory for me, despite recent attempts at embracing this space.

After struggling in the gloom for a good portion of the day, dissatisfied and discouraged and dismal as could be, I finally hit upon something that sounded less-awful than anything else. A question I am learning to ask is "What do I feel like doing right now?" Another variation is "What sounds good to me right now?" Now, these may seem rather elementary, but I am usually the type to shoot these questions down. I tend to believe that this line of questioning will lead me down paths that are lazy, selfish, or unproductive - the very opposite  of what I like to be! Even asking the questions at all can seem, at first thought, like extremely dangerous territory. I prefer to ask "What should I be doing right now?" But all my "doing" has no place in those moments when "being" is all you can do, like on my gloomy Thursday.

So I decided to let myself ask the question. "What do I feel like doing right now?" Like a bored teenager, I shot down about a hundred suggestions for myself before I finally heard that I was hungry - I had not eaten in several hours. Nothing sounded good, of course, but I kept asking questions, until finally, something clicked. I had some fancy crackers and a jar of apricot chutney I picked up at a market recently. But my internal battle continued: "You are saving those for future company! It is only a Thursday afternoon and you are eating alone! You shouldn't waste them on yourself." It is another common pitfall, one that I have been working to avoid for a little bit longer in my life: the desire to save joy, whether moments or things, for a later, better time. But what if I can make now a better time?? I fought my negative instincts and decided that now was as good a time as any to make an occasion for myself. 

My occasion had no particular purpose, except that I could really use an occasion. As I opened my crackers and apricot chutney, I remembered that I had a wedge of Brie cheese in the fridge, and some blueberries, and some freshly-brewed rhubarb green iced tea. I grabbed the book I was reading, Willa Cather's novel A Lost Lady (a great suggestion from Chris, which I finished reading as a part of my "occasion"), and one of my lovely vintage linen napkins, another usually-only-for-guests indulgence. As I sat and ate my simple but fancy lunch, I felt myself settle and soften a bit. The gloom did not let up outside my window - it continued to hover in the corners of our home and in the corners of myself, as well. But my small occasion was a way of nurturing the light inside, and a gift, from myself, to myself, which I desperately needed. 

I believe in this practice of "making occasions." I adore the concept of the "un-birthday" coined by Lewis Carroll, and I believe in the magic that an "occasion" can add to your life. Do you believe you are worth an "occasion?" How often? Under what circumstances? I am not referring to lazy indulgences, or to binge behaviors, or to a constant stream of selfish choices. Instead, what I am suggesting is an investment in oneself the way one might invest in a guest. How much lovelier are the many small moments in life when a candle is lit, or a cup of tea or coffee sipped, or a vase full of flowers scents the room? And while an occasion might not be able to eliminate the gloom, it might just help you move through it. What occasion can you create today? I hope you will give yourself this gift sometime soon, this practice in the "art of being": an occasion of your very own!

simple summer peach cake

Yesterday was a ridiculously hot day (read: unpleasant to be outside - I even wrote my morning pages indoors!) and I had the day all to myself, with no commitments or obligations until the evening. So after I spent time writing in the morning, I looked forward to an afternoon of "being" practice. I decided to try out a recipe that has had my mouth watering ever since I first saw it: Simple Summer Peach Cake. 

The recipe is from the amazing website/cookbook Food52. (You can get the recipe here, along with soooo many others!) Several months ago, our amazing mom, Kim, invited me to go to a cooking demo/book signing with one of the Food52 creators, Merrill Stubbs. I am so glad Kim invited me! I liked Merrill so much that I bought the book long before I had begun my adventures in cooking, and now that I am in full-swing, I pick up this lovely book quite often. You can see my obsessive flagging of all the recipes I want to try, which is pretty much every vegetarian recipe! 

Now, I realize that baking is still "doing," but this "being" thing is harder for me than I like to admit. It will be a learning transition for me to embrace the true "art of being." So here is how I practiced "being" through this simple exercise: 1) It defies logic: it is a hot day, so not usually the ideal situation for baking; 2) It is highly sensory: the smell of the peaches, the textures and flavors (especially as I cut one peach to eat, along with the peaches for the cake), the visual process of watching the ingredients mix together, noting how one changes another; 3) It is a cake for "no reason": there is no event or purpose for a cake, which makes it an extra-special luxury and treat. Logically, I should not be making this cake, for many reasons. But when I thought of "being," it was the thing I wanted to try more than anything today! 

I put on a Carpenters record that I haven't listened to for a long time (so summer-y, no?), and added some 'sound' to my sensory experience. I felt a little bit like I was cheating as I sliced the peaches and had to add one more since I kept sneaking pieces - they were just dripping juice. 

Every step of the baking process was satisfying and so unbelievably cheerful! Something about summer and peaches and cake all rolled into one: you just can not beat it. My cake turned out beautifully! It looks a little different than the cake in the recipe photos, maybe because I did not squish the fruit down far enough into the cake. But I love that this resulted in a little more peachy-color in the cake, which reminds me of my favorite coral and pink tones! 

The cake is absolutely delicious, and a gift that will keep on giving: Ryan and I could not possibly (or should not, at least!) eat the whole cake between just the two of us, so I am sure we will get to share it with others. And I love anything that gives the gift of eating, which will help to create some more "being" moments over these next few days. 

Today, as it turns out, is a rainy day. I sat out on the balcony again to write my morning pages, and ate a piece of my 'simple summer peach cake' for breakfast as I watched the rain soaking the world around me. It brought the sun and warmth right back into this thunderstorm of a day: another great chance to "be."

Do you have any ideas or suggestions for more ways to practice "being" as I continue on my quest? I would love to hear them!

(If you haven't already, you should check out Kim's blog "You Were Meant For Amazing Things" here! It is very inspiring!)