Tag Archive | joy as resistance

Delicious Weekend

Apr13

It’s unfortunate that major media expends so much energy rehashing bad news, when there is actually a lot of good news happening every day. I’m grateful that Jess Craven publishes Extra! Extra! every Sunday to elucidate the good news that shows an undercurrent of positive, hopeful change in this country.

I made an interesting chicken and cauliflower soup over the weekend. It wasn’t simple or exactly delicious, but did introduce me to a tasty trick. The chicken thighs were seared in the pot first, then the crisp skin pulled off and roasted until it was “shatteringly crisp,” and crumbled on top of the finished soup.

I was grateful for a splendid success in the Birthday Cake Challenge. Not only did the cake turn out beautifully, but I acquired some new skills. Unintentionally, I learned how to make sweetened coconut shreds out of unsweetened flakes. There was no sweetened coconut in the store so my dear resourceful personal shopper purchased unsweetened flakes, above.

Locating instructions was the hard part; once I found them it was easy. I pulsed the flakes a half cup at a time for just a few seconds in my coffee grinder—it was a great excuse to give it a thorough cleaning. Then for each cup of shreds I dissolved a quarter cup of water and a teaspoon of sugar in a saucepan, took it off the heat, and stirred in the coconut. But first, I experimented with one cup replacing white sugar with maple syrup. Confident in the technique, I spread that out to dry and use later, mixed the remainder with white sugar, and set it aside for morning.

Then I baked the ‘Upgraded German Chocolate Cake’ from Sally’s Baking Addiction. I usually just fudge the high altitude adjustments, but due to my recent baking record I followed them all precisely, using the table on King Arthur’s website, tweaking flour, sugar, liquid and leaveners as well as baking temperature and time. The sponges were perfect.

After they cooled completely and before heading to bed, I stacked them with their parchment papers between layers so I could store them safely under the cakestand lid to prevent drying out or interference. I didn’t think Wren or Topaz would get to them, but better safe than sorry.

Sunday morning I enjoyed the cherry blossoms again, and a quiet read with Wren during coffee.

And then I started on the frosting. I toasted the pecans, beat the eggs, measured the coconut and brown sugar, and cooked everything to perfection in plenty of time to let it cool completely and chill for an hour in the fridge. Then I commenced construction.

But I couldn’t let it go at that. The day before I pulled out a bag of frozen apricots from the last bountiful year and cooked a quick compote with a bit of sugar and a squeeze of lemon juice. The consistency was perfect, and I hid it inside the frosting between the first and second layers. After all, the cake was to celebrate the apricot king!

I finished assembling the cake in time to check in at Cousins’ Zoom, and then delivered the cake next door right on time. It was precarious. Frosted, the cake was just too tall to fit under the lid so I grabbed a spare cardboard box and braced the stand with more cardboard, leveled the box on the back seat, and Wren and I drove around the block slowly.

Neighbor Fred has been pruning and consulting on the apricot tree for however long it’s lived here, neither of us can recall, but at least twenty years. I’m forever grateful for him. He seemed happy with his cake.

And after we each enjoyed a piece of it, Mary sent me home with a generous tithe that will see me through the next few mornings’ coffees. Now, who’s birthday is next, I wonder?

Prosocial Emotions

Feb10

In our gratitude group this evening, top two mentions went to Bad Bunny and the Walk for Peace monks. We didn’t even touch on the Olympics, but the games have certainly played into my sense of “prosocial emotions” the past few days. The most poignant moment for me so far came tonight watching Max Naumov in his Olympic debut in the men’s short figure skating program. After a beautiful routine he held up a photo of him as a toddler between his parents of his very first time on ice. His parents, Olympic skaters themselves, were killed when that Army helicopter crashed into a passenger plane over the Potomac River just nine days into the new regime. (Remember the ‘official’ spin on that?)

When I woke up a little grumpy about mouth pain, I quickly recalled that the monks were crossing into DC, pivoted to gratitude, and came downstairs to watch their livestream. They were greeted on the Virginia side of Chain Bridge with a bow from a DC police officer, and escorted across the bridge over the Potomac River by a line of bicycle cops in neon yellow vests.

The procession continued down the center line of Canal Road. Snowbanks edged each side, bare trees arched over from the C&O canal on their right side, and climbed the hill on their left. The road was closed to traffic so there were few spectators, and I imagine this must have incidentally supported the sacred nature of this crossing expressed by Bhikkhu Pannakara.

I was impressed by the slow-cycling cops’ ability to match the pace of the brisk-walking monks as they navigated into the city and made their way to American University. People appeared on sidewalks as the monks continued down the center of closed roads. I was grateful for the massive presence of peace officers surrounding the peace monks. A few nuns and monks fell in behind from the sidelines wearing fresh bright orange robes easily distinguished from the well-worn travelers’ robes. Greeted at AU by a diversity of clerics along a path strewn with flower petals, they settled in for a short rest and a public talk.

Then they resumed their walk through DC among, at last, crowds shouting their thanks.

At Washington National Cathedral thousands gathered out front where the monks were introduced by Bishop Mariann Edgar Budde. Bhikkhu Pannakara spoke for about half an hour to a rapt audience. The cathedral’s livestream caught it all.

After Secretary of State for DC Kimberly Bassett presented a proclamation from Mayor Muriel Bowser (“I vow to practice peace every day”), our monks and a hundred or more gathered clergy and faith leaders from all traditions went inside to talk about their commonalities: loving kindness, peace, and compassion. As they entered, the sweet camerawoman live-streaming for the monks walked through crowd cooing greetings and filming smiling faces, waves, and signs amplifying the monks’ message.

As sun streamed through the high stained glass windows of the cathedral and lit the vaulted ceiling in teal, pink and gold, flags from every state waved at the tops of arches. With music softly playing and my eyes and nose streaming, our intrepid monks took their seats in an arc on stage while pews filled with orange robes. The Dean of the Cathedral said it was one of the most beautiful sights he’d ever seen, and Bishop Budde welcomed all of “our interfaith friends and siblings of one human family.”

Questions were invited from the assembled, and the first was from a Muslim cleric: “How do we reconcile the belief that we must be at peace, with our duty to act in the name of justice?” Bhikkhu Pannakara invited Bhikkhu Bodhi up to answer the question and escorted him up the short stairs onto stage. “I’m 81 years old and I grew up in the Sixties… and now what are we facing? I have to say sadly it’s almost a reign of terror…

“We have to balance this inner peace with what I call a strong commitment to conscientious compassion: compassion inspired by a sense of conscience, a responsibility for the welfare of all our fellow citizens, all the residents of this country, and indeed a universal compassion for all human beings around this world, and—do we have Aloka here?—all sentient beings around this world.”

A representative of The United Tribes next asked, “What is your message for children in our next seven generations?” Bhikkhu Pannakara responded with the same message he’s been sharing along the way: we’re way too dependent on technology!

And then they were on their way again, walking down Embassy Row, and the livestream stopped. I was wrung out. I got a text from my dear friend who had been in the crowd outside the cathedral, with the message, “It could have been one of your Mindfulness classes! You should market all over DC because it was such a moving speech, breaking all barriers of religion, race, age, socio-economic background. I think DC people would sign up for classes if they knew about you!”

Bless your heart Doodles, I wish they would! But we have all had a crash course from one of the very best, an extraordinary young monk who had an idea one day and followed through with passionate dedication. In 108 days he’s done more for mindfulness than anyone I can think of. The culmination of their journey this week in DC is the antidote that so many of us needed after the year we’ve suffered. Bouyed these past few days by the monks on one coast exemplifying the path to peace, on the other coast by a young Puerto Rican pop star epitomizing joy as resistance, and in between by the creative, resilient solidarity of a huge community defending itself with love in Minneapolis, it was an easy week to practice gratitude.

All images today are photos or livestream screenshots I grabbed from the Walk for Peace USA Facebook page, or from the National Cathedral’s livestream on YouTube. My favorite: that courageous Bishop Budde loving on Aloka the Peace Dog. A close second: that resilient Venerable Maha Dom Phommasan who lost his leg in the accident near the beginning of the journey, followed by the sweet French monk with walking poles, Venerable Samma Maggo, both of whom returned for this sacred conclusion after leaving the walk earlier.