Tag Archive | contentment

Wren and Food

Nov8

Wren and food, Wren and food… the themes may get old to some, but they don’t to me. I am always grateful for this surprising little bundle of cuteness and laughter that found her way to me when I needed her, and I’m always grateful for delicious food. I’m grateful that at my age I have finally settled into a comfortable, efficient flow of providing myself (and now Wren) with mostly healthy food without the old stress and struggle that used to accompany eating.

Yesterday’s simple cheese sandwich included Havarti, B&B pickles, mayo, and lettuce.

There were many years during which I ate only because I had to to keep going; I didn’t pay much attention to what I ate, and often found myself just shoving some sort of food in my face at the last minute, often junk food. Ok, yes, I still eat a bit of junk food, like these ‘natural’ cheetos and goldfish amended with poison fish spices, and usually a small bowl of dark chocolate M&Ms after lunch; but otherwise, I eat pretty well in general. This is a pretty big accomplishment for me, but no need to go into all the reasons that’s so. And the main reason I’ve been able to learn how to feed myself is slowing down with mindfulness practice, and discerning where to place my attention.

Wren accepts my leaving her on the chair when I must return to the desk…

I’m grateful for my little bonsai-lunch table in the sunroom. I intended to have a dining table in there for many years before I finally managed to arrange the space to accommodate one. I still only get a small wedge of it to myself but it’s sufficient to my needs: placemat, plate, glass, and kindle. It’s a joy to eat breakfast or lunch in there among the plants and colors in cold or windy weather, whether or not the sun is shining. Today’s cheese sandwich included cheddar, lettuce, dill pickle relish, mayo and tomato chutney.

And tonight’s snack was leftover deep-fried cauliflower with a quick Hoisin-based dipping sauce. Last night, with leftover oil in the fryer from the artichoke hearts, I made crispy cauliflower with honey and hot pepper, drizzling it with delicious Tupelo honey sent to me by a dear friend in Florida with a secret source, and sprinkled the fried florets with homemade paprika. As sometimes happens, I ate it too fast to take a picture. My life is simple these days, and I am content: I’m grateful every day for Wren and food.

Contentment

Sep14

A rare moment of peaceful contact in the kingdom this morning, Topaz and Wren together for a few seconds, almost a minute, on the stone bench beside me. Wren was so nervous she jumped down shortly after, and once Topaz had made her point she didn’t need to be up there anymore either. Oh well. I’m grateful for occasional signs that maybe these two will one day get along with sincere friendliness — but I’m not attached to that outcome.

Topaz continues to join me at the patio table during morning coffee. Her contentment with this new time together, while Wren chases grasshoppers or wasps or basks in the sun, seems to give her some reassurance that her place in my heart hasn’t been usurped by what she still thinks of as ‘that interloping puppy.’

Who, by the way, could not be cuter, even when I ask her to please try. I’m grateful for living a quiet life with a fragile truce between cats and dogs, for the opportunities I have daily to give comfort, help, or support to others, and for the occasional feeling of being enough just as I am. Why is this such a challenging equilibrium for so many of us? Our culture conditions us to demand more of ourselves and of each other than is reasonably possible, and so we strive or suffer, robbing ourselves of the simple joy of contentment.

The Journey

Mar20

“When I got a review back for a paper in Science, one of the reviewers wrote “it’s at the 6th grade level.” I sent that review on to Alan [Alda] and he wrote back that it was the nicest compliment I’ve ever received. For my presentations, I give the same talk and show the same slides whether it’s a lay public audience or a science/medicine group of attendees.” ~ Eric Topol, Ground Truths, March 13, 2023

When I read this, I experienced a flash into an alternate universe, where instead of spending my nest egg on 35 acres of relatively wild forest, I used it to attend the science writing grad program at UCSC where I had been accepted. That was 31 years ago. 

In this flash vision, I had graduated from that program with the credentials to follow one of my passions, understanding and communicating developments in science to the general public. In that universe, I had an exciting career that took me from the panda nurseries in China to the Australian outback and Great Barrier Reef, from the shrinking glaciers of Greenland to the drying Great Salt Lake in Utah. I had interviewed some of my idols including Anthony Fauci, and when the pandemic struck I had become a meaningful voice in translating its rapid public health implications for lay consumption, just like Eric Topol. 

Oh well. The flash was over in an instant, washed away by a wave of reassuring recognition that I’ve lived a good life, and come to a place of contentment with internal balance, loving friendships, and meaningful work. Things could have been different, but they weren’t. My choices, along with conditions I had nothing to do with, led me to this place, and I’m grateful for the journey of discovery, continuing to pursue the question I’ve been asking since I settled on this beautiful wild land: Who am I, and how did I come to be here?

When I’m Sixty-four…

Jan15

Despite a concerted effort through most of my life to make sure this never happens, I believe that today there might be a few people who love me who have forgotten that it’s my birthday.

If there are, though, there aren’t many. I have been overwhelmed with birthday greetings and salutations from before I awoke til just now, via text, zoom, email, phone, and facebook. I am so incredibly grateful to be thought of kindly by so many people. It has truly been a day to receive love and celebrate my still being alive after sixty-four years. And yes, as only one friend asked, I’ve had that Beatles’ song going through my head all day.

A gentle snow fell off and on all day, and I started a fire first thing because when it’s cold and grey outside, it’s pretty chilly inside. The cake I was so proud of not un-panning last night was impossible to get out this morning. All that butter had congealed and glued it to the bundt pan. So I set it on top of the woodstove for a few minutes, and it popped right out. It is delicious. Here’s the recipe for any NYT Cooking subscribers. I can see all kinds of variations on this in the future, like using lemon extract instead of vanilla, and making a lemon syrup to saturate it… or maple syrup syrup… I’m grateful I have a few neighbors to share it with.

I’m grateful that I received a few gifts–and doubly grateful that there were only a few. I have been trying desperately for years to once and for all finally declutter my house, which got out of hand long ago when I brought home so much of the ancestral stuff after mom, and later dad, died. Please friends, when your parents go, relinquish attachment to their stuff! I’ve prolonged a sorry task that’s become a real burden. Attachment creates suffering. See something you want in my house? Please take it! Except for my birthday presents. And for some reason, every single one of them was kitchen related.

I’m grateful that the Bad Dogs lent me Norma’s Solstice puzzle, “Carmel by the Sea,” which I started last night. In two sittings I completed the two easy parts. Now, as they warned me, comes the hard part.

I’m grateful that the universe granted me this precious day that will never come again, to relax, and receive love, and enjoy the gifts of this particular life in this precise moment. Everything changes all the time. I may not live to see another birthday. Death is certain, time of death uncertain. We each have our unique way of seizing the day, and mine, this day, was to relax into and allow the simple quiet joy of contentment and gratitude.

More than Enough

Jan2

I’m grateful tonight for a brief burst of sunshine this morning, and for some more much needed precipitation this evening, but mostly for a glimpse of a sunny blue sky this morning, it did wonders for the spirits in this house. I’m grateful for breakfast with Topaz, who’s become more interactive in recent weeks, even jumping up on the recliner for awhile this evening. She’s really enjoying her new comb, and I’m enjoying less hair around the house. I’m grateful for coffee in the sunroom with her, Wren in my lap, Dickens on the Kindle, art on the walls, bonsais on the table, and sun outside. I’m grateful for heat in the woodstove, wood in the shed, friends in the neighborhood, friends across the country, friends in other countries, internet in the ethers, power from the solar panels, water in the pipes… I’m grateful for more than enough.

Immersed

Dec18
Red cabbage immersed in brine days ago is fermenting successfully! Sauerkraut is in the fridge now to wait five days for full flavor.

I’m grateful to be immersed in a new puzzle for the holiday week. More to come on this delight.

Resting

Dec16

Wren doing Arts & Crafts at doggie daycare yesterday. I’m grateful today that we both got to rest at home. I napped in the morning, I napped in the afternoon, I showered and rinsed my achy nose; I read, ate, read, talked with people; I rested all day and now it’s time for bed. I actively appreciated so much of what I did and didn’t do today. Namaste.

MOHS

Dec15

I’m grateful today for MOHS surgery, and for Dr. Weber at Mountain West Dermatology who has performed several of these procedures to remove skin cancer from my face and head. Too much sun when I was a child and even our parents were ignorant of the consequences. I’ve lost count of how many MOHS’s I’ve had in the past 25 year. I’m grateful that my terror level has dropped from 10+ before the first one to <1 for this latest iteration. For one thing, Dr. Weber’s precision cuts on me have all resulted in minimal to invisible scarring, and he’s just a super nice guy. Everyone at the office is kind and compassionate.

What anxiety I did have about it revolved around the weather–would it be snowing? would my car get out my driveway? –and around little Wren, who’s not been separated from me for more than four hours since she arrived six months ago. I’m so grateful for friends and community who rallied around, one prepared to blade the driveway if needed (it wasn’t); GB and the Super eager to drive me up to GJ and run some errands of their own while I waited in limbo between cuts; and Rocky’s mom eager to babysit Wren for the day. Beyond that, lots of love and encouragement sent my way before, during and after, including a baked goody at my doorstep. Who could ask for more? Oh, and there was that one Ativan I popped right before setting off this morning, that helped lower the anxiety immensely.

The first cut was done by about 10:30 am, but the tissue has to go off to pathology to determine if they got clean margins. They did! First cut! But it took three hours to find that out, and then the time-consuming plastics-style suturing, and layers of bandaging. When it was all done it was way past lunchtime, so the Super asked what I wanted, and steered us to the best chocolate milkshake, which I enjoyed with a side of cheddar poppers and fry sauce. They each ordered their faves, and we sat in the Sonic corral and enjoyed our meals. I’m so grateful for friends who aren’t old enough to be my parents, but are old enough to care for me like a little sister. There was something so nostalgic about him asking what I wanted to eat, then making it happen. I felt so very cared for. My heart runneth over for them, and for everyone who contributed to making what could have been a grueling day into a joyful day: including my own mindfulness practice.

I’m grateful to be all tucked in at home before dark with a cozy fire going. Little Wren seemed to have a fun day at doggie-day-care with her buddy Rocky and the camp counselor. She was too excited to see me to tell me all the details of everything they did, but I know there were some naps, some treats, some snow-watching. I look forward to hearing a full report from the counselor tomorrow. I’m grateful for a safe and happy place to be able to leave her should I need to in the future, a place where she’ll be loved and pampered, and won’t come back to me with some new neurosis. Such a feeling of peace, contentment, gratitude, and love will carry me off to a deep sleep tonight.

Zoom Cooking with Amy

Dec2

I spent the day cooking. I’m grateful for the strength and energy to cook all day. I cooked down black beans with roasted tomatoes and onions left from the garden, and some oregano from the sunroom. Then rolled up a bean and cheese burrito with sour cream and fermented hot sauce for lunch. For dinner, Amy and I made Bello’s cheesy potato bread, and loaded sweet potatoes.

While the sweet potatoes were baking, we chopped red cabbage, drained garbanzo beans, tossed in some spices, then roasted that mix too. Toward the end of cooking we mixed in some chopped pecans. I forgot the dried cranberries! They were sitting on the counter but I glanced right past them. A tahini dressing with balsamic, Dijon mustard, maple syrup, apple cider vinegar, and garlic powder topped the plate. Pretty easy. So delicious. A successful Instagram recipe. And lots of leftovers!

But the day began and ended with bread. This sourdough is so simple, so delicious! Mix a shaggy dough first thing in the morning, let it rise an hour, fold it four times, let it rise eight-ten hours, then four-fold it again and shape into loaves. Another hour and a half rise under a flour-dusted tea towel, and into the oven at 450℉. I’m grateful for all the delicious food I concocted today, for the kitchen, tools, fuel, and time to do so; and for Amy and our time together. I’m grateful for the contentment that settles over me more completely as time goes by: for the dawning recognition that I am enough, just the way I am. It’s taken a long, long time to get here. Some people are just born with it, but for others of us it takes a lifetime of letting go to finally arrive at peace with who we are.

Contentment

Nov24

I’m grateful to see Ice Canyon forming up, and to be able to walk there with my little dog. I’m grateful for the vast, tremendous sky and all that happens in it day to day, moment to moment. I’m grateful for my life just as it is on this day of giving thanks, for where I live and how, for teachers and students, for friends and community, for a sense, in this moment, of safety and ease. I’m grateful for knowing any of this can change in any moment, which inspires me to appreciate all of it every moment as much as possible.

I’m grateful for a tidy stack of wood in the shed, protected from the elements, and for the helpers who stacked it. I’m grateful for the simple meal I made for my Thanksgiving dinner, cheesy samosa puffs, and for the jar of last year’s salsa verde I pulled from the pantry to dip them in. It was a delicious early dinner.

I’m grateful for eggs, flour, sugar, cocoa, and vanilla extract, cream cheese and butter, and the knowledge to turn them into a yellow cake with chocolate frosting. It’s not exactly like the Sarah Lee cakes I grew up with, but pretty good nonetheless! I did substitute cream cheese for some of the butter in the frosting because I could and plain butter cream is too–well, buttery–for my taste. I’m grateful that two dear neighbors wanted to share their Thanksgiving dinners with me, and that I was able to share this cake with them. And so glad that I’ll have plenty of turkey, potatoes, gravy, cranberry sauce, and more to enjoy for the next few days. I’m grateful for leftovers! I’m grateful for friends. I’m grateful for the leisure and opportunity to cultivate contentment in my life.