I have had a bunch of kale in the refrigerator and a hankering for some white bean soup lately, but every recipe I looked up seemed boring. Some featured a tomato base, which I didn't want. And so I did what I usually do: I gave up on the recipe and let my tastebuds guide me. The parsnips and the tahini add a nutty, warm flavor to the dish. And, as you'll notice, this is a true-to-the-season winter soup. Add a splash of red wine vinegar or lemon juice at the end to give it a crisp finish:
INGREDIENTS
1 C dry white beans, soaked overnight (or 2 cans fresh)
2 bay leaves
2 Tbs. olive oil
1 large parsnip, cut in quartered rounds
3 medium potatoes, cubed
2 tsp dried sage
3 cloves garlic, minced
1-2 C chopped kale, stems removed
2 Tbs tahini
1/4 C soy creamer or soymilk
In a medium soup pot, cover beans with water and add the bay leaves. Simmer for 1 hour. If using dried beans, drain the water once and replace it with fresh water about half-way through, to reduce gas effect. If using canned beans, cook for only 30 minutes.
With about 25 minutes left for the beans, pan fry the potatoes and parsnips in olive oil and sage. Set on medium heat and cover, stirring occasionally. After 10 minutes, add the garlic. Once the garlic is soft, pour a splash of water in the pan and add the kale, covering once again. Steam for 10 minutes more. Once kale is tender, stir everything into the pot with the beans. Add the soy creamer and tahini and stir until creamy and smooth. Add more water, if desired.
We served this with some homemade wheat bread and some dipping oil with herbs sent to us from my brother and his partner. It was delicious, and I hope you enjoy it! Buen provecho!
Post script: After I made this, Jen sent me a recipe for Polenta with White Beans, Braised Kale and Roasted Pears. YUM!
Wednesday, December 30, 2009
Thursday, December 17, 2009
possibility.
new topic, lots of time to get going on it.
i like to start my assignments by looking up the definition and etymology. not that i don't know what the word means, but sometimes we get lost in the various attachments we have to a word. it's good to start at the beginning.
possibility obviously comes from "possible" meaning able, but not certain to happen. Wiktionary says to also look at "power." so that in itself says a lot. power is not the same as action. ability is key.
(interjection: i'm listening to NPR's year review of music, and i just heard a great song by K'naan, who is a canadian rapper. normally, i would not like rap, but i liked his song, "take a minute", a lot. kind of a lesson in learning to welcome new possibilities and not to shut the door on opportunities.)
so part of the assignment this month is to look at where we squash our imagination and allow our expectations to be mundane. if the doorbell rings, we think postal worker, not long-lost friend. we set ourselves up for the ordinary, and we get comfortable with it.
the next part is, of course, to challenge yourself to do something to which you've said "i can't." it's hard for me to think about this, especially now, i think. i feel somewhat paralyzed by my financial situation (i.e. unemployment) and i'm not sure how to approach this. however, i'd like to tiptoe toward this challenge first by recalling the big goals that i have accomplished in the past, and to reflect on how i made those things happen.
i immediately think back to my time in spain as well as in the backcountry. those are the two things of which i am most proud. and i suppose i thought at some point leading up to them that they were impossible. my mom probably remembers one night the summer before i left for spain when i decided it wasn't possible to go. i was worried about money and logistics. and i probably started to worry about what it was going to be like to live away from home for a year. with the backcountry, i was worried that my schedule wouldn't line up, and that i was making a mistake in passing up my opportunity with Rochester AmeriCorps. maybe it wasn't a good idea to go live in the woods for 5 months. how was i to know then?
some people think it would be impossible to live in the woods for 5 months. some people couldn't manage to go to a country where they didn't know the language. some people wouldn't dare get on a plane! some people think it's impossible to bike commute during rochester's winter. or year-round, for that matter. some people think it would be impossible to give up cheese, to be vegan. (this is my pep-talk. i do impossible things!)
some things i think are "impossible":
1. having a regular yoga practice at home.
2. fasting. (this may seem strange, but i have weird fears of going without food...)
3. traveling around the world, for more than one month.
4. working in the backcountry again.
5. playing the guitar well
6. knowing more than 3 languages
7. being a professor, or getting a ph.d.
8. being a massage therapist or yoga teacher
9. living for more than a year in another country.
10. avoiding the use of gerunds.
these are some pretty big "impossibles" to make possible, especially by january 19th. but i think i can manage the first two by then. the most important lesson to take away from this month's theme is that impossible things take time to realize, and that small steps taken every day will lead you there. i once walked 70 miles to get half my sins forgiven. i hiked 20 miles in a day with blisters on my heels. the next day, i climbed a 10,700 ft peak. i jumped off cliffs into freezing cold water. i've gotten on planes & trains alone, and i've biked through the snow. all of these things took various types of steps. long, confident strides, small tiptoes, giant leaps, and near-misses. poco a poco...
the most important thing i've learned from this recap is that all of these goals were accomplished because i became obsessed with accomplishing them. i KNEW that these were things i had to do, and i did them. i knew i would never regret them, and always remember them. or at least i'd have some good stories to tell...
here's to the impossible, and to making it all possible.
cheers.
i like to start my assignments by looking up the definition and etymology. not that i don't know what the word means, but sometimes we get lost in the various attachments we have to a word. it's good to start at the beginning.
possibility obviously comes from "possible" meaning able, but not certain to happen. Wiktionary says to also look at "power." so that in itself says a lot. power is not the same as action. ability is key.
(interjection: i'm listening to NPR's year review of music, and i just heard a great song by K'naan, who is a canadian rapper. normally, i would not like rap, but i liked his song, "take a minute", a lot. kind of a lesson in learning to welcome new possibilities and not to shut the door on opportunities.)
so part of the assignment this month is to look at where we squash our imagination and allow our expectations to be mundane. if the doorbell rings, we think postal worker, not long-lost friend. we set ourselves up for the ordinary, and we get comfortable with it.
the next part is, of course, to challenge yourself to do something to which you've said "i can't." it's hard for me to think about this, especially now, i think. i feel somewhat paralyzed by my financial situation (i.e. unemployment) and i'm not sure how to approach this. however, i'd like to tiptoe toward this challenge first by recalling the big goals that i have accomplished in the past, and to reflect on how i made those things happen.
i immediately think back to my time in spain as well as in the backcountry. those are the two things of which i am most proud. and i suppose i thought at some point leading up to them that they were impossible. my mom probably remembers one night the summer before i left for spain when i decided it wasn't possible to go. i was worried about money and logistics. and i probably started to worry about what it was going to be like to live away from home for a year. with the backcountry, i was worried that my schedule wouldn't line up, and that i was making a mistake in passing up my opportunity with Rochester AmeriCorps. maybe it wasn't a good idea to go live in the woods for 5 months. how was i to know then?
some people think it would be impossible to live in the woods for 5 months. some people couldn't manage to go to a country where they didn't know the language. some people wouldn't dare get on a plane! some people think it's impossible to bike commute during rochester's winter. or year-round, for that matter. some people think it would be impossible to give up cheese, to be vegan. (this is my pep-talk. i do impossible things!)
some things i think are "impossible":
1. having a regular yoga practice at home.
2. fasting. (this may seem strange, but i have weird fears of going without food...)
3. traveling around the world, for more than one month.
4. working in the backcountry again.
5. playing the guitar well
6. knowing more than 3 languages
7. being a professor, or getting a ph.d.
8. being a massage therapist or yoga teacher
9. living for more than a year in another country.
10. avoiding the use of gerunds.
these are some pretty big "impossibles" to make possible, especially by january 19th. but i think i can manage the first two by then. the most important lesson to take away from this month's theme is that impossible things take time to realize, and that small steps taken every day will lead you there. i once walked 70 miles to get half my sins forgiven. i hiked 20 miles in a day with blisters on my heels. the next day, i climbed a 10,700 ft peak. i jumped off cliffs into freezing cold water. i've gotten on planes & trains alone, and i've biked through the snow. all of these things took various types of steps. long, confident strides, small tiptoes, giant leaps, and near-misses. poco a poco...
the most important thing i've learned from this recap is that all of these goals were accomplished because i became obsessed with accomplishing them. i KNEW that these were things i had to do, and i did them. i knew i would never regret them, and always remember them. or at least i'd have some good stories to tell...
here's to the impossible, and to making it all possible.
cheers.
Sunday, December 13, 2009
job search: part 6?
a quick update: i haven't heard back from either of the jobs that i'm semi-hopeful about.
but.
i just applied for aNOTHER job that i could potentially be hired for. a woman that i know through church is the assistant director of reslife at St. John Fisher College in a suburb of the ROC, and she wants to hire me as a Residence Director. yikes! It would be a lot of fun, but a LOT of work. and i'd have to live there. meh. at least i'd have a job! we'll see where this job search eventually takes me!
but.
i just applied for aNOTHER job that i could potentially be hired for. a woman that i know through church is the assistant director of reslife at St. John Fisher College in a suburb of the ROC, and she wants to hire me as a Residence Director. yikes! It would be a lot of fun, but a LOT of work. and i'd have to live there. meh. at least i'd have a job! we'll see where this job search eventually takes me!
Tuesday, December 8, 2009
Saturday, December 5, 2009
a continuacion....
So in my last entry concerning my job search, I explained the many hoops I've had to jump through to get this job with the Villa. Where we last left the saga, I was waiting for the hiring freeze to melt.
Meanwhile...
...a woman who runs a research project at the University of Rochester, who has my resume thanks to my friend Brianne, has "emailed" me because she wants to interview me. Two weeks ago. I know she never sent it, or sent it to the wrong address, because I do not have any emails from her. Now, if I do the math correctly, at the time she "emailed" me, I had just been told by the Villa that for them to hire me, I would need to wait...indefinitely. Therefore, had I received said email, I could have returned the call and maybe had a job by now.
Who knows.
I applied online to the research position, which could lead to me traveling several times to the Dominican Republic to conduct interviews about smoking cessation. Surprisingly, I'm very well qualified for the position, which is probably why the woman had wanted to interview me before she posted the position. But now it's posted and I am very very nervous about getting it. Because, I have always wanted this job over the other one, I just didn't think I had a chance at it. So here's my chance.
And it makes me wonder if all of these hoops were put here for a reason. I believe in those sorts of signs...
Meanwhile...
...a woman who runs a research project at the University of Rochester, who has my resume thanks to my friend Brianne, has "emailed" me because she wants to interview me. Two weeks ago. I know she never sent it, or sent it to the wrong address, because I do not have any emails from her. Now, if I do the math correctly, at the time she "emailed" me, I had just been told by the Villa that for them to hire me, I would need to wait...indefinitely. Therefore, had I received said email, I could have returned the call and maybe had a job by now.
Who knows.
I applied online to the research position, which could lead to me traveling several times to the Dominican Republic to conduct interviews about smoking cessation. Surprisingly, I'm very well qualified for the position, which is probably why the woman had wanted to interview me before she posted the position. But now it's posted and I am very very nervous about getting it. Because, I have always wanted this job over the other one, I just didn't think I had a chance at it. So here's my chance.
And it makes me wonder if all of these hoops were put here for a reason. I believe in those sorts of signs...
Tuesday, December 1, 2009
'tis the season.
Winter is hard on me.
Yesterday was gray and cold and rainy, and I didn't have the energy to leave the house. Even with the prospect of seeing my amazing teenage ladies at Teen City and helping them with a zine, and the promise that I would be there to pay for a planner that one of them picked up for me, I just couldn't make myself leave. At the thought of that bike ride in the dark (at 4:30!) I nearly cried. So I stayed home, let Adam cook dinner on his own, and read in a little bundle in bed. It's safe to say I have a combination of S.A.D. and P.M.S. that does not mix. After a nice warm dinner of lasagna with Adam, I finally worked up the energy to go for a quick walk with him to the Swamee Mart to look for cherry pie filling. We came back with only beer. Regardless of our findings, it felt good just to be outside for a bit.
It's hard to not have a job. Even in an employment position, I still need help figuring out what to do and how to spend my time. Now, when there's nothing to do, I sometimes feel paralyzed. I putz around the house, cleaning things, doing load after load of laundry, and cook a lot of food. It depresses me beyond belief to watch my savings account drain away as I make three loan payments. All the while, I'm just waiting for the Villa to call me. It's somewhat excruciating.
But each day is a little different. Today I woke up early(er) and managed to do the dishes that I had avoided yesterday. I read some more, because Barbara Kingsolver is good to my soul, and then I made sure I washed my face and brushed my teeth (something I don't always manage to do these days...). I rarely shower every other day, but I'm less concerned about that. When I do it feels good. That's about all I care about.
Like I said, today has been different. After breakfast, Adam and I went to the library and the public market. I bought 3 acorn squash, a stalk of Brussels sprouts, two bunches of celery, broccoli and apples. Still nothing to make a pie, but I think I'll make it to the store before long for those cherries I've been craving.
The point of all this is that I haven't been well. Despite doing things to take care of myself, like going to yoga, continuing to ride my bike, eating good food and getting lots of sleep, I still am unsatisfied with the state of my life. And that in itself is puzzling, because I couldn't be happier to be with Adam. It just goes to show you that having a great relationship does not solve all your problems. I've always known that, but I hope my being melancholy doesn't make Adam think I'm unhappy with us. I just can't seem to get everything else in my life to feel as good. That's all.
And yet, today, as the sun shines brighter than it did the day before, and as I've managed to give it a good start, I feel as though there is still a bit of clarity to my life that I sometimes forget. I've got my Christmas music playing, I've managed to sit down and put my thoughts into words, and I've got some inspiration sitting next to me: a book from the library.
I checked out a book called The Urban Homestead, and though it has a lot of information I already know, it defines a general purpose of my life that is uplifting. I truly believe in urban living. I think it's easier to be kind to the earth when we tread as little of it as possible. I believe that we all need to reinhabit the cities and quit building massive beige houses surrounded by nothing--a natural world those suburbanites rarely explore. In the city there are beautiful big old houses that are waiting for multiple families to enjoy, including the one in which Adam and I live. There are spacious backyards--spacious enough for small gardens and bug hunting. There are buses and more and more bike lanes and walkable neighborhoods and natural food stores with more options for cruelty-free foods than your average suburban supermarket. And there are gobs of fresh produce on display in a dozen farmers markets around the city. There are cafes that you can walk to, parks that are just around the corner, and trails that remain hidden in the center of urban jungles. I know I'm mostly talking about Rochester, but I know for certain these resources exist throughout urban America.
It is exhilarating to think about the ways that Adam and I are urban activists. We are full-time cyclists, vegan animal rights activists, and advocates of natural and organic living. We have vermicompost and a rabbit who works as a composter as well. We have a garden that will be busy next summer, and we are growing some herbs and other plants indoors. Unlike Betsy and Charlie, we haven't gotten into preserving, canning and fermenting, but I'm hoping that will also come with the garden next year. I spend a lot of time making natural cleaning supplies that are cheap and smell like tea tree oil, not fake lemon-lime mixed with bleach. We buy our food at the farmers market or the food cooperative (though we're known to buy discounted soy milk and pickles at Tops). We go to a progressive, liberal church that values social justice above just about everything else.
All this is meant to explain that I'm very happy with the effort I put into every day of my life, and to reiterate (to myself) that I do a whole hell of a lot to make this world a little better each day. I sometimes forget that these things require mental and physical effort (especially biking in the cold) that can, at times, leave me feeling exhausted and disenchanted.
But I'm proud of the way I live out my values, and reading about the things I can do to make a difference revive my spirit in a way lasagna and snuggling under the blankets can't. I'm happy that Adam and I have time now to put our house and lives in order. I'm glad that I have a little time to ease into this next phase of my life, to relax and sift through old things and make a place for myself in my new home. I shouldn't be so afraid of having a blank calendar, and I should make the most of this down time.
Sometimes I think the only point of the winter holidays is to have something to cheer us during these long nights and cold days. It's amazing what some Christmas lights and music will do to my tired little spirit. The excitement of the first snow and the comfort of a warm fire ease us through these harsh months. Adding warmth and spice to out food and drinks mean adding pizazz to an otherwise bland winter spread. We know how to make it through.
My mom keeps talking about how we need to make our own traditions, and that we need to be responsible for things happening, since she can no longer be behind the magic. It's true that without my family's initiative, I'm unmotivated to celebrate and prepare for holidays the way I'm used to them. When Zoe told me she and Jack were getting a tree, I was shocked, because it occurred to me I hadn't given a thought to how Adam and I would decorate the house. In fact, I'm quick to write off the holidays as frivolous and not worth the effort. Sometimes it's too difficult to get past my divergent religious beliefs. But there's nothing like some holiday lights shining out onto the street to warm the soul. Adam and I noticed that when we returned home to see the one strand of lights he managed to get to work shining out through the dark night through our kitchen window. This really is a magical time of year, and I want to be a part of it.
Yesterday was gray and cold and rainy, and I didn't have the energy to leave the house. Even with the prospect of seeing my amazing teenage ladies at Teen City and helping them with a zine, and the promise that I would be there to pay for a planner that one of them picked up for me, I just couldn't make myself leave. At the thought of that bike ride in the dark (at 4:30!) I nearly cried. So I stayed home, let Adam cook dinner on his own, and read in a little bundle in bed. It's safe to say I have a combination of S.A.D. and P.M.S. that does not mix. After a nice warm dinner of lasagna with Adam, I finally worked up the energy to go for a quick walk with him to the Swamee Mart to look for cherry pie filling. We came back with only beer. Regardless of our findings, it felt good just to be outside for a bit.
It's hard to not have a job. Even in an employment position, I still need help figuring out what to do and how to spend my time. Now, when there's nothing to do, I sometimes feel paralyzed. I putz around the house, cleaning things, doing load after load of laundry, and cook a lot of food. It depresses me beyond belief to watch my savings account drain away as I make three loan payments. All the while, I'm just waiting for the Villa to call me. It's somewhat excruciating.
But each day is a little different. Today I woke up early(er) and managed to do the dishes that I had avoided yesterday. I read some more, because Barbara Kingsolver is good to my soul, and then I made sure I washed my face and brushed my teeth (something I don't always manage to do these days...). I rarely shower every other day, but I'm less concerned about that. When I do it feels good. That's about all I care about.
Like I said, today has been different. After breakfast, Adam and I went to the library and the public market. I bought 3 acorn squash, a stalk of Brussels sprouts, two bunches of celery, broccoli and apples. Still nothing to make a pie, but I think I'll make it to the store before long for those cherries I've been craving.
The point of all this is that I haven't been well. Despite doing things to take care of myself, like going to yoga, continuing to ride my bike, eating good food and getting lots of sleep, I still am unsatisfied with the state of my life. And that in itself is puzzling, because I couldn't be happier to be with Adam. It just goes to show you that having a great relationship does not solve all your problems. I've always known that, but I hope my being melancholy doesn't make Adam think I'm unhappy with us. I just can't seem to get everything else in my life to feel as good. That's all.
And yet, today, as the sun shines brighter than it did the day before, and as I've managed to give it a good start, I feel as though there is still a bit of clarity to my life that I sometimes forget. I've got my Christmas music playing, I've managed to sit down and put my thoughts into words, and I've got some inspiration sitting next to me: a book from the library.
I checked out a book called The Urban Homestead, and though it has a lot of information I already know, it defines a general purpose of my life that is uplifting. I truly believe in urban living. I think it's easier to be kind to the earth when we tread as little of it as possible. I believe that we all need to reinhabit the cities and quit building massive beige houses surrounded by nothing--a natural world those suburbanites rarely explore. In the city there are beautiful big old houses that are waiting for multiple families to enjoy, including the one in which Adam and I live. There are spacious backyards--spacious enough for small gardens and bug hunting. There are buses and more and more bike lanes and walkable neighborhoods and natural food stores with more options for cruelty-free foods than your average suburban supermarket. And there are gobs of fresh produce on display in a dozen farmers markets around the city. There are cafes that you can walk to, parks that are just around the corner, and trails that remain hidden in the center of urban jungles. I know I'm mostly talking about Rochester, but I know for certain these resources exist throughout urban America.
It is exhilarating to think about the ways that Adam and I are urban activists. We are full-time cyclists, vegan animal rights activists, and advocates of natural and organic living. We have vermicompost and a rabbit who works as a composter as well. We have a garden that will be busy next summer, and we are growing some herbs and other plants indoors. Unlike Betsy and Charlie, we haven't gotten into preserving, canning and fermenting, but I'm hoping that will also come with the garden next year. I spend a lot of time making natural cleaning supplies that are cheap and smell like tea tree oil, not fake lemon-lime mixed with bleach. We buy our food at the farmers market or the food cooperative (though we're known to buy discounted soy milk and pickles at Tops). We go to a progressive, liberal church that values social justice above just about everything else.
All this is meant to explain that I'm very happy with the effort I put into every day of my life, and to reiterate (to myself) that I do a whole hell of a lot to make this world a little better each day. I sometimes forget that these things require mental and physical effort (especially biking in the cold) that can, at times, leave me feeling exhausted and disenchanted.
But I'm proud of the way I live out my values, and reading about the things I can do to make a difference revive my spirit in a way lasagna and snuggling under the blankets can't. I'm happy that Adam and I have time now to put our house and lives in order. I'm glad that I have a little time to ease into this next phase of my life, to relax and sift through old things and make a place for myself in my new home. I shouldn't be so afraid of having a blank calendar, and I should make the most of this down time.
Sometimes I think the only point of the winter holidays is to have something to cheer us during these long nights and cold days. It's amazing what some Christmas lights and music will do to my tired little spirit. The excitement of the first snow and the comfort of a warm fire ease us through these harsh months. Adding warmth and spice to out food and drinks mean adding pizazz to an otherwise bland winter spread. We know how to make it through.
My mom keeps talking about how we need to make our own traditions, and that we need to be responsible for things happening, since she can no longer be behind the magic. It's true that without my family's initiative, I'm unmotivated to celebrate and prepare for holidays the way I'm used to them. When Zoe told me she and Jack were getting a tree, I was shocked, because it occurred to me I hadn't given a thought to how Adam and I would decorate the house. In fact, I'm quick to write off the holidays as frivolous and not worth the effort. Sometimes it's too difficult to get past my divergent religious beliefs. But there's nothing like some holiday lights shining out onto the street to warm the soul. Adam and I noticed that when we returned home to see the one strand of lights he managed to get to work shining out through the dark night through our kitchen window. This really is a magical time of year, and I want to be a part of it.
Thursday, November 19, 2009
compas
As I finished that last entry, I was thinking about the origin of the word compassion, and I was reminded of a flamenco term: compas. I didn't remember what it was, so I looked it up.
That description is perhaps a bit too technical, so let me break it down. Compas is the strict beat of flamenco music. Those who know flamenco know that it generally uses an unusual time signature, that of 6/8, somewhat like a waltz but doubled. Sometimes they do 12/8, which is like a 6/8 plus 3/4. It is beautiful and eerie and completely mesmerizing. I remember sitting in a crowded bar in Sevilla, drunk on sangria and trying to clap along to the complicated beat of compas. That beat is born into native Spaniards, but as I was a transplanted Americana, I couldn't quite figure it out. Maybe that's not a very flattering description, but believe me, it was an ethereal experience.
The point of all this is that compas is the beating heart of flamenco. Just as the heart of our existence is our compassion for others. And yet again, I am enamored with the poetry of Latin.
That description is perhaps a bit too technical, so let me break it down. Compas is the strict beat of flamenco music. Those who know flamenco know that it generally uses an unusual time signature, that of 6/8, somewhat like a waltz but doubled. Sometimes they do 12/8, which is like a 6/8 plus 3/4. It is beautiful and eerie and completely mesmerizing. I remember sitting in a crowded bar in Sevilla, drunk on sangria and trying to clap along to the complicated beat of compas. That beat is born into native Spaniards, but as I was a transplanted Americana, I couldn't quite figure it out. Maybe that's not a very flattering description, but believe me, it was an ethereal experience.
The point of all this is that compas is the beating heart of flamenco. Just as the heart of our existence is our compassion for others. And yet again, I am enamored with the poetry of Latin.
compassion: reprise.
December's theme at my church is, of course, Compassion. Of course, because what better time to be compassionate than the holidays, when we are compelled to reunite with family and to help those less fortunate during this time of celebration. I already wrote an entry with this theme, but I will be taking this in a different direction--or at least I think I will. It's difficult to keep from weaving the issue of mercy for animals and the generic idea of compassion, since animal rights activists and theorists view veganism and fighting for animal welfare as the most "compassionate" way of life. However, as the guiding questions explain, our church is more interested in personal compassion. The one homework assignment is as follows:
Find a way to be more compassionate with yourself. Do at least one compassionate act for yourself.
I suppose in order to allow us to dig deeper into this assignment, they include four "core" questions. These are:
1. What idol is undermining your compassion?
2. How are you called to be a person of compassion right now?
3. What were you taught about compassion while growing up?
4. What was it like to allow the whole world into your lungs?
There is more explanation for each of these included. For example, "idolatry" can mean racism, nationalism, Republicanism, consumerism, etc. And sometimes we spend a lot of time being angry about these things instead of holding people with these values with compassion. So it's more like, what is getting in the way of you treating all beings with compassion? The last question is in reference to a Loving Kindness Meditation included in our packet. This meditation is a Buddhist practice of holding individuals and the whole world in our hearts as we work to spend more of our lives regarding the world with loving-kindness. I haven't done it yet, but hopefully I'll have some time to reflect before my next Soul Matters group.
Initially, I know that this work is going to be a little hard for me, since I generally am least compassionate with myself. I tend not to forgive myself for missteps, and I allow myself to feel guilty of, unworthy of and belittled by my life's choices. It's sometimes hard to be kind to myself when all I want is to do the best I can. And when I feel like I'm not doing all I can do, I feel like a failure. Of course I've recognized this over the years, usually because my mom pointed it out, and I've worked toward forgiving myself and giving myself time and space to accomplish what I want. But in the back of my head I feel like forgiving myself is just a cop-out for not finishing what I set out to do. No matter what I do, even if I tell myself that the work I do is important, it is not enough.
There is a lot of material to read in the packet, so before I go further in my reflection, I'll read through that.
In an important related note, I've started going to yoga regularly and that is a great place for me to find out where I am punishing or pushing myself too hard. Whether mentally or physically, yoga is a space where you can't hide from yourself for long. It's better just to open your heart, mind and body and let things flow through you, rather than fight the demons. Yes, I think yoga and compassion go nicely together...
Find a way to be more compassionate with yourself. Do at least one compassionate act for yourself.
I suppose in order to allow us to dig deeper into this assignment, they include four "core" questions. These are:
1. What idol is undermining your compassion?
2. How are you called to be a person of compassion right now?
3. What were you taught about compassion while growing up?
4. What was it like to allow the whole world into your lungs?
There is more explanation for each of these included. For example, "idolatry" can mean racism, nationalism, Republicanism, consumerism, etc. And sometimes we spend a lot of time being angry about these things instead of holding people with these values with compassion. So it's more like, what is getting in the way of you treating all beings with compassion? The last question is in reference to a Loving Kindness Meditation included in our packet. This meditation is a Buddhist practice of holding individuals and the whole world in our hearts as we work to spend more of our lives regarding the world with loving-kindness. I haven't done it yet, but hopefully I'll have some time to reflect before my next Soul Matters group.
Initially, I know that this work is going to be a little hard for me, since I generally am least compassionate with myself. I tend not to forgive myself for missteps, and I allow myself to feel guilty of, unworthy of and belittled by my life's choices. It's sometimes hard to be kind to myself when all I want is to do the best I can. And when I feel like I'm not doing all I can do, I feel like a failure. Of course I've recognized this over the years, usually because my mom pointed it out, and I've worked toward forgiving myself and giving myself time and space to accomplish what I want. But in the back of my head I feel like forgiving myself is just a cop-out for not finishing what I set out to do. No matter what I do, even if I tell myself that the work I do is important, it is not enough.
There is a lot of material to read in the packet, so before I go further in my reflection, I'll read through that.
In an important related note, I've started going to yoga regularly and that is a great place for me to find out where I am punishing or pushing myself too hard. Whether mentally or physically, yoga is a space where you can't hide from yourself for long. It's better just to open your heart, mind and body and let things flow through you, rather than fight the demons. Yes, I think yoga and compassion go nicely together...
to be continued...
I got my social security card on Tuesday, at least two days before I expected it. Hooray! I went in Wednesday to get my driver's license. Except for the malfunctioning camera, I was able to get it no problem. I called the Villa's HR department to give them my new license number, triumphant.
HR called me back. They REALLY want me to work for them. Unfortunately, they've just entered a hiring freeze in the agency and can't hire anyone for at least a week or two. BLAH.
So I have to keep waiting, and keep looking, and hope that I don't have to go back to Starbucks just to make it through the holidays.
To be continued...
HR called me back. They REALLY want me to work for them. Unfortunately, they've just entered a hiring freeze in the agency and can't hire anyone for at least a week or two. BLAH.
So I have to keep waiting, and keep looking, and hope that I don't have to go back to Starbucks just to make it through the holidays.
To be continued...
Monday, November 16, 2009
sweet relief.
I never ended up blogging about last Thursday, but it was the worst day I've had in a while. I got up semi-early to head out to the social security office, only to wait for two hours for them to tell me that they misplaced my new card in the mail (something about leaving the "drive" off the end of my address). That meant that they would have to RESEND my application and hopefully the card would come in 5-10 business days. I almost cried on the spot. But I didn't. I cried out on the street, while I talked to Adam on my cell phone. He gave me a little pep talk, and, encouraged by the SS clerk's suggestion to give the DMV my SS card receipt, I biked on over to the DMV downtown.
Turns out the only day they're NOT downtown is Thursdays. Of course.
I called Adam again and cried.
Then I got back on my bike and headed down South Ave to the Highland park government office, where the DMV actually was operating. There was only one other person in the room, and I felt confident that everything was going to work out. But no, she refused to take my SS card receipt, and blew me off.
I sobbed outside on the phone to Betsy. It was NOT the day to wear mascara, but I did.
So that was an epic fail if ever there was one. I biked over to Matt and Brianne's, where Adam and Matthew were shooting a Go Veg commercial. And I bought a huge order of Sesame Tofu from Ming's. And everything felt better. I met Betsy later at the Memorial Art Gallery, where we saw a really awesome exhibit called Paint Made Flesh. Then we walked over to Lento to have their Buy One, Get One free vegetarian entrees for students. Thank you, AmeriCorps. I had lentil cabbage rolls with chickpea battered pumpkin slices in a tomato and portobello sauce. And I had a yummy cocktail called The Tell-Tale Heart, made with apple cider, gin and crushed cranberries. It was the perfect ending to an awful day.
And guess what?
I called the Villa's HR office today, and Amy told me that there's no rush, just to call her as soon as I have my new license number and they'll bring me in for hiring.
Hallelujah!
So, I have a job, and although I won't start getting a paycheck for a while, I can relax and really enjoy my knitting, reading and cooking that I've been doing during this interim.
I don't know why it seems that bureaucracy has it in for me, but I'm glad that I'm never completely screwed over. Just inconvenienced, frustrated and delayed because of the government's red tape.
(On a slightly political note, Adam and I were discussing how demeaning it is to have to jump through so many hoops to prove that we are full citizens of this country. How many proofs do we need? Birth certificate, Social Security card, Passport, Driver's License, etc. And which of those is least important? The little blue paper card that ONLY has a number, one that is easily memorized, and easily stolen. And how expensive ARE all of these documents? Very. Especially when they have to be renewed or replaced. I feel so much for those who don't have the money to prove their documentation, and those that are treated as less human because they can't prove their identity. No wonder we feel so lost in this world. Our identities depend on little cards and pieces of papers and photographs and numbers.)
Turns out the only day they're NOT downtown is Thursdays. Of course.
I called Adam again and cried.
Then I got back on my bike and headed down South Ave to the Highland park government office, where the DMV actually was operating. There was only one other person in the room, and I felt confident that everything was going to work out. But no, she refused to take my SS card receipt, and blew me off.
I sobbed outside on the phone to Betsy. It was NOT the day to wear mascara, but I did.
So that was an epic fail if ever there was one. I biked over to Matt and Brianne's, where Adam and Matthew were shooting a Go Veg commercial. And I bought a huge order of Sesame Tofu from Ming's. And everything felt better. I met Betsy later at the Memorial Art Gallery, where we saw a really awesome exhibit called Paint Made Flesh. Then we walked over to Lento to have their Buy One, Get One free vegetarian entrees for students. Thank you, AmeriCorps. I had lentil cabbage rolls with chickpea battered pumpkin slices in a tomato and portobello sauce. And I had a yummy cocktail called The Tell-Tale Heart, made with apple cider, gin and crushed cranberries. It was the perfect ending to an awful day.
And guess what?
I called the Villa's HR office today, and Amy told me that there's no rush, just to call her as soon as I have my new license number and they'll bring me in for hiring.
Hallelujah!
So, I have a job, and although I won't start getting a paycheck for a while, I can relax and really enjoy my knitting, reading and cooking that I've been doing during this interim.
I don't know why it seems that bureaucracy has it in for me, but I'm glad that I'm never completely screwed over. Just inconvenienced, frustrated and delayed because of the government's red tape.
(On a slightly political note, Adam and I were discussing how demeaning it is to have to jump through so many hoops to prove that we are full citizens of this country. How many proofs do we need? Birth certificate, Social Security card, Passport, Driver's License, etc. And which of those is least important? The little blue paper card that ONLY has a number, one that is easily memorized, and easily stolen. And how expensive ARE all of these documents? Very. Especially when they have to be renewed or replaced. I feel so much for those who don't have the money to prove their documentation, and those that are treated as less human because they can't prove their identity. No wonder we feel so lost in this world. Our identities depend on little cards and pieces of papers and photographs and numbers.)
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