meditation musings

My mind is an ocean
full of living things that swim and dart about
full of things that slither and wriggle and float
full of things that are anchored and sturdy.

My mind is an ocean
with unceasing, steady waves that crash on the shoreline
dissolve into foam
and then nothingness.
crash
foam
nothingness.

Empty and full all at once.


--

My mind is a locomotive
racing on the train tracks as
the mindfulness conductor makes her rounds.
Have you paid for your ticket?

One passenger sits curled up in a tight knot
knees pulled up to her chest
with her back to the window and she recites endless strings of numbers
"one point six-oh-two times ten to the minus nineteen...or was it minus thirty four or was it...?
or was it...
or was it?"

One passenger wanders the aisles and searches for the clear box
with the white lid that lived on the porch in spring and early summer
the one with lid that had the precious phone number written in bold black print.
She knows its contents and tells the conductor she'll pay for her ticket
just as soon as she finds the box.
The box with the stethoscope and iodine and shoulder-length plastic gloves
and tubes and tubes of water-based lube.
And she's sure there are other things, important things in that box. What happened to that box?
How can she deliver the babies without the box?
And she tells the conductor that she remembers what it felt like to have her
naked, glove-less arm inside
where it was warm and wet past her elbow
and what it felt like to touch hard death.

The conductor wipes a tear, nods, and moves on up the train to the next passenger
who is in tattered denim jeans and an old grey tank-top,
her exposed skin golden and covered in a layer of grit and grime
sticky with sweat.
She is sprawled out across a whole row of seats
snoring gently.
When the conductor says, "Ticket?"
The passenger responds with a murmur:
"asparagus".

The conductor has nearly reached the end of her rounds.
She knows that some hitchhikers jump off into the endless green fields as the train races on.
She looks out the nearest window and sees
cartoony lambs dressed in wooly, brightly colored can-can skirts, singing a lamby can-can song.
Lamb! Lamby, lamby, lamb, lamb.
Lamby, lamby, can-can.
Lamby, lamby, lamby, lamb, lamb.

The conductor smiles, sighs, and returns to her job
walking
row by row
checking tickets
breathing
being
traveling on.

Pre Travel Freakout: The Holiday version

Oh my, it is that time of year when my ten kinds of crazy come out to play. Oh yes, it is pre-travel freakout time! Crud. Every time I think I'm over this particular neurosis, it comes out dressed in a pink sparkly tutu and a zombie-like bite on my brain.

Pre-travel freakout, how I adore and despise you all at once as I attempt to laugh at myself. She deeply Sighs.

I had a big full day today. A day of working, of getting a haircut in the middle of my work day, a day of having an evening meeting at work and not getting home until nearly 9pm. And then starting laundry. And going through mail. And paying bills. And filing papers. And filling out my open enrollment benefits paperwork.

And having a giant meltdown and leaving a likely inappropriately tearful message on my ex-husband's voicemail because I can't remember the last digit of his social security number and I need it for this paperwork because in case I die or am accidentally dismembered I want some of my insurance benefit to be paid to him. (Mom, if you're reading this, you should be glad that you were next on my list and that after leaving message #1, I decided it would be better to wait to call you).

And then I kept going sorting through piles of papers that accumulated on the kitchen table. Having another meltdown because I couldn't find my other laundry basket (it was in the living room). And putting away laundry.

And realizing that I was in the middle of one great big ol' pre-travel freakout and I needed to stop. To eat. To drink tea. To write about my crazy. To take my multivitamins. To go to sleep.

Oh, pre-travel freakout. When I catch you I can see that you are a hairy ape in a ballerina outfit, zombiliy munching away on the bananasanity of my brain.

democracy, dreams, and dorkitude

yesterday was the full moon, and I wonder if that explains my crazy dreams and crazy sentimentalism the last few days.

I had a dream a few nights ago involving David Boreanaz, the star of Angel, standing over really big Jacuzzi-style bathtub and I was holding his head while he puked. There were other things that happened in the dream, things I remembered yesterday but have forgotten today. I remember there were other bathroom scenes in the dream...maybe we were looking at tile or at fixtures, but there was a lot of bathroom and plumbing stuff going on. Dunno.

And last night I had a really lovely night of live music seeing Jayme Stone and Dar Williams. Both performances were so awesome.

Tonight, after work, I was at a 4-hour training to become an Election Judge. I have an eleventybilliion page manual. I will have to be at my TBA polling location starting at 5:30am on election day and be there until maybe midnight-ish. I was told a 14hour day would be a "get off easy" kind of day, and that I can't leave my location the entire time and I need to bring all the food and beverage I need for the whole day (or have a friend or someone bring me food and beverage...hint, hint) and that I can't have access to my cell phone for the entire time. There are going to be 7 election judges at each polling site and we'll all rotate through the various duties throughout the day and get a fancy title for each position: Greeter Judge, Sign-In Judge, Poll Book Judge, Ballot Judge, Ballot Box Judge, and Machine Judge. I learned all about what it takes to get the polling location set up including hands-on training to set up both the electronic machines and the paper ballot voting booths. I learned about all the security involved in tracking the ballots from their sealed unopened containers to the securing of the ballots that are cast and the unused ballots. I learned about spoiling ballots and Fleeing Voters. Oh, those sneaky Fleeing Voters.

I also want to encourage everyone to find ways to vote early or vote by mail, if it is possible for you in your location. My state has early voting locations available, and I'll have to vote that way since I won't be able to vote on election day. I love going to the polls to vote, and it is the primary reason I signed up to do this Election Judge gig, but after seeing what is involved, I understand why there need to be other mechanisms for collecting voices.

And after the first 10 minutes when I got the shock of "5:30am arrival" and "maybe a midnight end time" and "can't leave the location until everything is finished" and "no Coffee-Run Judge". I said, hey, this is INCREDIBLE! I had no idea how much work goes into making our system run. How much human devotion and dedication is involved in making sure that votes are properly cast, that people are legitimately casting ballots, that people are able to cast provisional ballots in case something is strange, and that NO ONE GETS TURNED AWAY FROM THE POLLS. And that it will be part of my duty to help insure that stays true. That this election is fair and secure and just. I am sitting here typing this, weeping. I'm such a dork. A patriotic, democracy-loving, sentimental dork. I think it is so amazing that we have a voice, that our voice gets counted, and our voices matter. Our opinions matter. And maintaining that integrity is important.

letdown and crazytown

Well, the people who were going to buy the house have cancelled the contract. It is a giant bummer, but there isn't anything I can do about it right now.

I'm heading up to Shambhala Mountain Center for my work retreat (a community-building retreat). I know I'll have a good time once I'm up there, but after the very long week I've had (as of Thursday night I've worked 38 hours this week so far) I'm not excited about working 10-12 hour days for the next 3 days. I know the work that I'll do from there is different since I'll be coordinating the retreat, but it also means living in a house with 8 other people, sharing 1 bathroom with them plus 4 others, and needing to be "on".

In other news, for the last week I've been teaching myself Hindi online using ispeakhindi.com I'm picking up some things, and last night I had a dream where I was even using hindi words when speaking with a waiter in a restaurant. It was a strange dream where I was hanging out with people that I've never seen in real life and we were going to take a road trip I think to St. Louis and in our road trip we weren't actually in a car, but were walking, and there was a place where the road turned to water and were were walking through the flowing water and weren't sure if it would stay only up to our ankles or if it would get deeper. And eventually the road turned back to road. And we stopped at a restaurant to eat, and it is a restaurant that I'm pretty sure I've visited in other dreams (again, not a real place). And the people I was traveling with had some love triangle drama going on. As we were looking at our menus, it was clear that there was some jealousy between people. Our waiter started singing in Hindi and I used my very little, and very poor Hindi to try to explain what was happening between people. It felt good that I had some words and frustrating that there were other words I don't yet have in my vocabulary. My alarm went off and I realized that I didn't do one of the sentences correctly. Ah well, it must be a good sign if I'm dreaming about using a language that I've only started dipping into.

A few months for Hindi, then perhaps it will be time for Arabic...maybe I'm preparing for a bigger trip than just Paris & Morocco?

The Pack Rat Queen

I think I just might be the Queen of the Pack-Rats, the Empress of Keeping Stuff, She Who is Ridiculously Sentimental.

My house is under contract and will close on September 8. I will be getting my clothes washer and dryer back after the tenants move out at the end of this month. My apartment has a closet that is intended to hold a washer and dryer, and I've got that space filled top to bottom (literally) with boxes of stuff. Many of these boxes contain papers that I have collected over the year...school work, letters, notes, "memories". And it is time for me to let go of a lot of this stuff. I just have no room, and really, not a lot of reason to keep holding on anymore.

I've been a sentimental clinger for many, many years. So today I decided to start with just one box. Just one box filled with stuff. This box contained:
• all my English papers from grades 9-12
• every piece of correspondence I received the summer of 1997 including printouts of emails, several dated pieces of paper indicating that I had a package waiting for me in the ASU Physics mailroom, my own dated grocery lists, boarding passes from the flights I took, cereal coupons, some of my own angsty poetry, pages and pages of data printouts from my summer physics research, about 10 different versions of rough drafts of my final paper
• my 1994 day planner
• a shoebox filled with birthday cards and letters from my 14th and 15th birthdays, notes from friends that must have been notes passed in hallways or during class probably from around that same time, a program from my high school's December 1992 band (did you know I'm a band groupie), more angsty poetry, a still-very fragrant "Eternity by Calvin Klein" sample, and some "Calvin & Hobbes" cut out from the newspaper.
• my first drivers license. wow, big hair in the early 1990s!
• I think maybe all correspondence I received the my first 2 years of college (people actually wrote letters back then--that was before email was really used)
• photos of my freshman dorm room (yes, there were Highlander movie posters above my bed, and in the photo I'm wearing a classic blue t-shirt with the Superman logo).
• birthday, halloween, valentines day, hanukkah, and other random holdiday cards and letters from 1992-1997

And I'm not done with this one box. Good grief!

a smallish town

I live in Boulder, CO. A city with just under 100,000 people. And sometimes it feels like an itty bitty town of only a few thousand. The frequency with which I see people I know...well, it is nearly every time I'm out of my home.

This morning as I was driving in to work I was having a singing-in-the-car-LOUDLY kind of morning. Just because I like to. Singing in the car is one of my special "taking care of me" treats. I crank up the radio beyond loud and really let go (of being reserved with singing, not the steering wheel).

So this morning as I was approaching a stoplight, I was belting out "Creep" along with Radiohead when I noticed the driver in the car right next to me that was also stopped at the red light was someone I know who graduated a few years ago, and he was waving at me and lowering his window. I turned off the radio, lowered my window, and had a 30second conversation with someone who just might have heard me belting out "But I'm a creep/I'm a weirdo/What the hell am I doing here?". Because, let's face it, even with the windows up, it is possible at that volume that someone right next to me could hear. Sigh. At least it wasn't NIN's "Closer" which I was singing right before.

I'm off to get a massage...I've been having a weird shoulder thing the last few days. I just hope I don't fall asleep this time! :)

foodie food food food

Today has been a food food foodie kind of day. Food photos, food yummies in the belly, food memories.

Today I took a coffee break...I actually got up from my desk, walked to the coffee shop across the parking lot, and got a coffee. YUMmmm...coffee. And while I was walking across the parking lot, my mind bounced to thinking about my years-long ritual and happy associations with warm beverages.

And as I walked, I had a very strong memory flash of sitting in the kitchen in the house that I grew up in, my wooden chair pulled right up to the corner of the kitchen counter where the little TV sat against the wall. This was my little perch for my weekly watching of Star Trek: The Next Generation while I sipped lovely warm drinks. Back in those days, my preference was for General Foods International "Coffees" whose primary ingredients were sugar and non-dairy creamer. But oh, those little red and white tins with their lovely powdered "Suisse Mocha" and "French Vanilla Cafe". I loved their commercials with women friends hanging out, sipping from their mugs, and talking about their trip to Paris...remember that waiter?! Happy times...me, my mug 'o warm, tasty sugar drink, and the Starship Enterprise...boldly going where nobody else in my family was really interested in going (thus me in the kitchen while others were in the living room watching Dr. Quinn Medicine Woman or Dynasty or something).

Food, foodie, food, food. And tonight I did a bunch of prep so I can eat a super-faboo lunch tomorrow. I roasted beets, I de-stringed sugar snap peas, I made a gorgeous salad dressing with rice vinegar, coriander, sugar, salt, and olive oil. And photos. I am so in love with the beauty of food. I had to take pictures. The sugar snap peas, the onion, and the beet/carrot/pea salad were all just so gorgeous. I'm not thrilled with the lighting, but there are some photos I'm pleased with. A few thumbnails here, and the rest can be seen here.

And I think tomorrow, the first cherry tomato on the patio garden will be ready to be picked!

Food food foodie food.

dreamland

I had a dream 2 nights ago which I think was some sort of sequel to the dream I had in Santa Fe.
In the dream I was in a house, but I think it was also a pirate ship. And there was a strange draft coming from under a door to a room, and I opened the door and saw the window was open. This was the room where there was a vampire held captive, I feared the vampire had escaped. When I looked around the room, I saw the vampire was still there. He was in the corner of the room standing on a book shelf. The vampire was short and shriveled and bald and hairless except for a long furry brown beard—similar to Gollum from LOTR. And I knew he had been captive for a long time since his beard had grown out. I closed the window and left the room.
There was some kind of food shortage in the house/ship and we still had a long way to travel. There were some people who we were negotiating with to restock our supplies and were going to put things in the fridge. I know there was more that happened in here, but I didn't retain it, so hopefully it isn't the key to solving the symbolism of the dream. Anyway, some time passed with some probably unimportant stuff, and then I checked the fridge, and found that it was empty. Totally, completely empty, like a fridge that never held food. I could see the food bandits in the distance on horses.
That image of the empty fridge was so unsettling to me. I woke up with a voice in my head saying "You are in the land of the Owl".

Last night in my dream I was on some sort of long distance road trip. I drove through deserts and cities and through towns with crazy steep hills--hills that were so steep I didn't think any car could make it up them. One hill, we didn't and ended up backing back down, and to get up it, we had to drive through a playground, but drive up the slide. Someone had set up a big tent in the playground--or maybe it was a campground with a playground. And my sister C drove the car over someone's shoes. The car at that point was a big, old, white van, but it was my Prius during other parts of the trip. There were 2 girls dressed like fairy princesses with tutus and tiaras and wands. Sometimes I was alone, sometimes there were others in the car. Once, I was a passenger when C drove. There were stops along the way, there was one stop where I went to a soap-making workshop. There was another stop when we couldn't get up the hill, and a boy told us how to drive on the side of the playground because the Mountain was being "twitchy" and wouldn't let us up.
interpretations, anyone?

TGIBuffy

"I'm cookie dough. I'm not done baking. I'm not finished becoming whoever the hell it is I'm going to turn out to be. I make it through this and the next thing and the next thing and maybe one day I turn around and realize I'm ready. I'm cookies. And then, you know, if I want someone to eat...or enjoy warm, delicious cookie-me, then that's fine. That'll be then. When I'm done."

making choices, taking risks

I feel like my life is full of themes. Two of the big threads running through my life is about making choices and taking risks.

I think I take responsibility for my actions most of the time. I try to live my life as consciously as possible, continuing to wake up over and over, to learn more about myself to become more and more aware. And I know that this means that I have choices. Every moment there are choices, big and small. Do I get water or rootbeer? do I spend money on something fun or practical or not at all? do I veg out by myself or reach out for contact? do I go to france and get knocked up? do I answer the phone while I'm driving? choices. So many choices. And everything that happens to me in my life I have some control over--it is my choice how I respond. Do I run? do I grasp? am I angry? am I sad? do I find the humor in it all? It is all my choice.

And every choice has a consequence. If I choose the root beer, I spend 60 cents; if I choose water I don't. If I answer the phone while driving, there could be any number of outcomes (car accident, talking to someone I like, talking to someone I don't like, etc). Every choice that is made has some amount of risk involved, and making choices means accepting the risk of the outcome for better or worse.

I am generally a safety girl...in many arenas of my life I don't take risks, I 'play it safe', and in other arenas I take risks that other people can't tolerate. Me, I love to travel and adventure and trying new things, but I also love having a plan.

As I move into the living alone arena, I keep noticing more and more choice, risk, consequence. And I keep taking the plunge.

Adventures

Yesterday was almost a snow-day. Well, ok, not a snow-say but a no-work day because of external factors outside my control, namely a power outage at work. I think these unexpected almosts are some of the hardest things to deal with. I was perfectly happy this morning thinking about going to work. On my new summer schedule, I’m not getting in until 10am anyway, and Tuesday is not a morning gym day, so I had a luxurious morning of coffee drinking and fiction reading planned. Then I got a call from my co-workers telling me about the power outage and asking what to do. My Best Girl was at the office because she was going to be doing a phone interview with someone overseas, but the lack of power meant no phones (our phones are digital), so she instead came over and we had breakfast together and chatted for an hour.

I think my life is filled with non-traditional adventures these days. Monday I explored new emotional territory with a…what to call this person. Friend doesn’t quite seem the word. Almost-friend? Used-to-be friend? Something like that. The BIG Adventure of Living Alone is really going to be interesting for me. Perhaps it is just humdrum run of the mill ordinary for some, but for me it is certainly adventureland. I've got adventures in cheesemaking planned, and adventures in container gardening, and maybe I'll even try out my car as a food dehydrator. Maybe. I'm going to have adventures of live music (woot!), and reading books and continuing to learn DVORAK (the keyboard layout, not the composer), planning my trip to France, of continuing to get my haircut without any specific plan and just let Robbie play. I'm going to have adventures in food and interior decorating and setting boundaries and taking care of ME. The adventure of taking care of myself is really Big, and exciting, and scary and wonderful. Yay for adventures. Yay for my life. Yay for all the causes and conditions that have lead me to this blessed, fortunate existence.

More recipes from OUT-TER-SPAAAACCEE

Ok space-cadetes and kittens, it's time for another outerspace food-o-rama. Yes, that's right. I said OUTERSPACE food-OH-rama!

1. The first outerspace food of the millennium is yogurt cheese. Yuumee. You take plain (not vanilla) yogurt, put it in a very fine mesh strainer (or in cheesecloth inside a strainer) set over a bowl in the fridge for 3 to 8 hours, and POOF, outerspace magic makes it into yogurt cheese. I have a fondness for plain yogurt mixed with chopped fresh mint and cilantro, then cheeseified. Mmm...herby yogurt cheese from outerspace!


2. Eggplant, Potato, Okra, Chickpea Stew from OUTERSPAAAACE (modified from Madhur Jaffrey's World Vegetarian)

1/4 cup vegetable oil
1/2 tsp ground cumin
2 whole dried red chilies
2 garlic cloves, peeled and lightly crushed
3/4 pound potatoes, cut into 1- to 1.5-inch chunks
3/4 pound eggplant cut into 1- to 1.5-inch chunks
approximately 20 small, whole okra pods
1/4 tsp turmeric
1 tsp ground coriander
1 6oz can of tomato paste
2 tsp salt
3/4 cup (3oz) finely minced fresh cilantro (leaves, stems, and roots)
2 cups drained cooked chickpeas (one 15oz can)
3 bitter melons cut into 1- to 1.5-inch chunks (see notes below)


Put the oil in a large, wide pot and set over hight heat. When hot, put in the cumin. Let it sizzle for 10 seconds. Put in the red chilies. As soon as they swell and darken, a matter of seconds, put in the garlic and potatoes. Stir and fry for a minute. Put in the eggplant chunks. Stir and fry for 2 minutes. Now add the turmeric and coriander. Stir once and put in the tomato paste, 4 cups of water, salt, cilantro, and chickpeas. Bring to a boil. Cover, turn the heat down to low, and cook gently for 15 minutes.

Meanwhile, stir-fry the okra in a little oil over medium-high heat for 3-4 minutes until lightly browned, and add them to the stew and cook for 15-20 minutes more.

This was good served over basmati rice, and also with garlic naan. Made 4 Jennie-sized meals.

Notes: bitter melon is sold at my local Indian Grocery. They are small 6" green footballs with bumpy alligator skin. Once you cut the melon, you are supposed to salt the insides and then rinse them to get rid of some of the bitterness. I salted them and let them sit and then TOTALLY forgot to rinse them. The result was surprising bitter bites scattered throughout the stew. I didn't fry the bitter melon, and I wonder what it would have been like if I had remembered the rinsing step and also tried frying. That will be another outerspace cooking adventure. I left the seeds in 1.5 of the melons. The seeds are crunchy and tasty, but the texture is strange in this squishy outerspace stew. If adding bitter melon, I would only use 1 or 2 next time, not 3--too strong compared to the other veggies.


What other uberyums lurk in the dark expanse of the outerspace kitchen? Tune in next time!

the summer of cheese

I think this summer is going to be the Summer of Cheese. or maybe not. maybe it will just be the Summer of Living Alone which may involve a lot of cheese. Oh choices, choices. Maybe the Summer of Choices. Maybe I won't label the summer until it is in progress or nearly over. Maybe it will just be a summer. But it feels bigger than that.

Today was graduation, and from the nosebleed section in the balcony, I sat and watched my 26 students walk across the stage, and I clapped and cried from way up there. I was pretty grouchy today, and grouchy about the fact that faculty get a special section to sit in, but staff don't. Sad that some of those students I may never see again, and I didn't get to see them up close, one last time. Grouchy that I made a choice not to lie and say I was faculty just so I could get a close-up seat. It was a day of choices, it is a lifetime of choices. Every action I take is a choice and has a consequence.

I made a lot of choices this week, some I know had an impact on someone I work with, and likely resulted in some hurt feelings. Another resulted in buying dishes--starting to create my future solo household. And golly, am I excited about my dishes--they are SO pretty.

I still haven't bought tickets to the Ani concert that is happening in Aspen in mid-June. I would really like to go with someone--I think it would be fun to do. And honestly, I'm freaked out at the idea of going alone.

And I've been listening to an audio book, "Animal, Vegetable, Miracle" by Barbara Kingsolver, and I keep talking to my audio book "Yes! yes! YES!" And the book talked about making cheese, and I got so excited...I've made cheese before, and it is something that I want to do more of...could I buy a cheese making book? could I buy cultures and enzymes and make my own cheddar and mozzarella and brie? Really? Me?! YES! So maybe this will be the summer of cheese. And maybe not. It will certainly be the summer of making choices.

a night out

it is 3am, and I'm winding down from a night out. I got to spend time with friends, eat lovely cheeses and drink lovely martinis. And I got to dance. And I really needed to dance.

The group of friends I was with tonight were all in various durations of being alone (not in relationship), and we ranked people "army style" where the people longest out of relationship had the highest rank. I'm in boot camp, and it is kicking my ass. It is so freaking hard for me to be alone, and I don't really know how to do this. I just keep trudging through the mud. I am sad and I am angry and I am lonely.

Why does it have to be so hard to be alone with me? I want to be wanted, and I'm not, and it hurts. But tonight I got to dance. I got to set limits, I got to make choices, and I had no safety net, no relationship in the background to rescue me.

Tonight was my coming out party, my birthday, my anniversary, my Jennie loves herself day. And I danced.

Only a few minutes after arriving at the dance place, I sat down, on the edge of tears, and a guy came over to me, started talking to me, and then asked me to dance. We danced for a while, then he got a little too grabby. Now I know some touching is normal, but after a bit too much ass-grabbing followed by a quick boob-grab, I had enough, and I went back to hang with my friends. And then I danced some more with my friends without all the creepy groping.

The night out was originally a way for me to get out some pent-up energy and emotion, and it worked. Though the root stuff is still there. I'm still sad, I'm still angry, I'm still lonely, and I still want to be wanted, and I'm not.

grr.

I don't want to be the buddha. I want to be something more...wrathful. Damn it.

themes

themes that have come up in the last few days:

grieving
setting boundaries (jess's boundary rule)
loving myself
fashion do and fashion don't
taking risks
travel
food
re-connecting

I'm not sure what this all means, and I'm a little too tired to try to sort it all out tonight, but I NEEDED to get something out.