Other Implies Another

A week since I've posted.
I've been other in one way, other in another way.
Good Orderly Direction. Abject chaos.

Helping others' creativity pushing me toward clarity regarding my own and its importance.

A day in the ER.

A party.
Hikes on the beach--
In order to spill from fill, must be empty first.
I emptied my pockets, feeling myself bound to the ground by the bones of the earth.
See how many of them are somewhat heart-shaped? See how many contain holes?

And au randonee on snowshoes around here on higher ground, the bones of winter. A baby moose, perhaps.

Meanwhile, this isn't supposed to be a good photo, but there were two moose, not just this one, outside the library this morning--smart moose to come down to sea level where things are threatening to grow.

I'm still having periodic dry heaves from the castor oil I made myself drink for some supposed food indiscretion three days ago. Up-thrusting energy like new plants--if I go abstract enough I can make it positive. Except that...hmhm...

I translated a hundred dictionary entries today all having to do with the concept of  "otherness." (And a bonus dozen over lunch to do with "heaps.") "Other" is different is more is less is parts of a whole is past is future is alien is heretical, abnormal, bad-tasting, somewhere else, special, foreign, hostile, divergent from the norm, less, less...

How much needs to be stripped away for radiance to enter, for light to shine through?
Breakfast in treatment last year: two packets instant oatmeal, with a whole bunch of other stuff (soy yogurt, nuts, shredded coconut, soy milk, fruit juice, raisins), and a cup of coconut cream. And more coconut cream if didn't finish all within 30 minutes.
Pumpkin is so good with oatmeal. With half a packet of instant oatmeal and maybe some coconut cream.
Pumpkin is so good with two tablespoons of instant oatmeal and a teaspoon of psyllium, and lots of liquid and maybe some coconut cream. With one tablespoon of oatmeal and half the amount of pumpkin. Etc.
A teaspoon of psyllium is so good with the pumpkin spices, lots of liquid and really some of that coconut cream.
One is one and all alone and ever more shall be so.
Other begat one.

Open my lips to speak praise--it's not what goes in but what comes out that matters.
See the luminosity through those rocks and bones.

Delayed Gift of Found Hearts (and Why Feathers Isn't Going to Do It All)

In addition to my goodie-making vortex in the run-up to the Holidays, I was also frantically collecting heart-shaped rocks. Every beach hike, I'd get back to the car with my pockets around my ankles and a couple more in my hands.  As I found better or more intriguing ones, others in the stash would get tossed, to lie somewhere as innocuous rocks, absolved of their role as heart with all its metonymic and metaphoric extensions.

I was so busy collecting the rocks, I didn't really think through how I was going to present them to their recipients. So, since I ended up being absent for the whole of the holidays, the hearts remained on the counter. I only gave two away that already had clearly intended recipients.

So, here they are on the counter, and since I'm house-and-dog-sitting, which gives me the sense of distance to allow me to spring-clean the cabin, it was time to move them.
A commemorative team photo:

Quite a motley team, united by a shape, or just the hint of it, that, for humans, speaks to depths of connection.
I found three more after taking the team photo and after having dismantled the flat montage:

The middle one is so big and weird, and the one on the right could be a foot almost as well as a heart. Had you ever imagined the heart and the foot as being similarly shaped? What metaphors could that tread out?
Some of the rocks are big and ugly, but still hearts.

 Some are small, and variously shaped. The bottom left one is actually a shell rather than a rock, and I feel a particular tenderness for it, how it's hollowed out, like half a hazelnut, like a prism.

 This one has that three-dimensional thing going on, and you can only see that it's a heart at a specific angle. Hearts are elusive sometimes. Sometimes, rocks don't know what we want them to say.

Some of them are simply, ineffably beautiful. No need for words (except a gentle curse of my lack of skills; I would love to have this picture flipped 90 degrees).

I've rambled on about found objects so many times here. These rocks are not only found but invested with special significance. There's something godly about a world in which that is possible; in which a small piece of the planet can ride in your pocket, or sit on your desk, and remind you of the precious cargo you carry within yourself, or of a precious other with whom you dance. Or, in which caressing one of these rocks can feel erotic in its sensuality. This underlying godliness is what this blog is named for.

As I'm spending more time alone (with the dogs I'm watching), I feel spaciousness. I like being by myself, even with all the other beings and noises. For a long time, I felt like I was in a tunnel, or on a runway. Now, I'm looking out through a door.
Time is still tripping me up. I'm forgoing many things in favor of writing-time and work. Email conversations are dragging because I'm taking longer to answer. My blog-citizenship has become less constant. I'm staying up late and getting up early. And yet, when I make it to the page, which is still a tardy arrival sometimes, with all the mechanics of being in a different place and taking care of the dogs, I make an excited scatter of starts and bursts as disparate as all the "hearts" pictured above, with no obvious direction or connection. They are all connected though. That little ulterior heart shape.

Speaking of ulterior, imagine the waves bonding to the sand like this.

Thank you for the feedback about the Feathers. I'm thinking photos will remain a necessity even if I don't remain living here. And comments are just a sine qua non, even if only one person comments. Thinking I should just do without them was a backhand way of putting myself down that was also impolite to potential commenters.

Touchstones--50 First Weeks Resumed

Remember all the way back in the third week of January, I started my "Fifty First Weeks" series of Monday posts, intended as all Mondays the rest of the year? Things went a bit off course, didn't they. But (not to steal my own thunder) the whole principle of "Fifty First Weeks" is that one can always start a day, or a time of day, as fresh time.

(Have you ever tried to braid rocks? Me either, but I'm trying to now, to braid touchstones with a return to returning, and returning, and returning to the metaphorical saddle.)
Stones can impress, can be similes in their very being. They can also protect. Helmet rock:

Things went off track and I went away, and then I came home and things continued hectic; I didn't get back on track and I didn't get back in the saddle and I didn't write all that was in my head, and I felt like an unmilked cow.

Glittery objects picked up don't always retain their luster, and the perspective is very different on opposite sides of a hill.

I knew my attitude was wrong: that I should have seen spending time with my mother-in-law in a beautiful house, taking care of cute chickens and a pair of neurotic little dogs who somehow like me, as a wonderful opportunity; possibly a source of much poetic inspiration; rather than a tightening in my throat. The same for numerous other activities this past month or two.

I forgot to remember where I came from this lifetime, or three months ago.

I forgot to remember where I came from on the scale of this universe.

I forgot the ease that comes out of moving with the flow. Actually, that's seldom been easy for me, and I also know that the flow can be a destructive onslaught--the rocks underneath our own home are under its threat.

What flows can move rocks and pile up mountains out of what has been moved.

 I need to accept that our life here is going to be studded with visitors and travel and other chaos, and not use that as an excuse to fall in the hole. Learning to work around these must be part of my challenge in life, which means at some level I have chosen it.

After all, I seem to pick up the same rocks over and over again...

I always have potential poems going through my head, and wish I were better at making the time to write them. The most upsetting part about the recent sequence was the feeling that that voice had gone quiet; that only the disinfectant tinnitus was left, more unbearable than silence

I'm finding my way back to that little opening of space in the midst of the heavy clay (a different sort of hole to fall into), since...

There's constriction in my throat, a lot of 'throat chakra' "stuff," energy I need to work with.

...even a stone can mime singing. 

The message over and over is, Do the work. Do it no matter your complaints about the circumstances. Mess up, and start over.

And sometimes, you'll pick up a rock entirely different from all the others, with a whole new metaphor within it.

I was gone for a long time over the summer. Physically, I've lost almost all my reluctant gains during that time. However, all along and even at the time I said the most useful aspect of the whole experience was all that I learned about communication, boundaries, awareness of other people's intended self-portrayals rather than blurt-empathy. 

And these past few days, I keep getting the message to be more precise in my own communication, more fearlessly honest, more impeccable with my word. I take that to heart in my conversations; I take it to heart in my creative writing also. Thus far, I've been pretty cranky a few times--but I can always start over.

Speaking of which, I'm aware that I haven't posted a single recipe since I got home. The reasons for that may be obvious superficially; I'm also still puzzling over what this blog is about. I'm ready to make some changes, even if they're just cosmetic, but recipes at some level of frequency will return.
Much love.

The Best Things Come in Small Bites/Bucket List Update

Bucket List Updates

It's such a pleasure to have the flexibility to get out more! Phil and I have had a couple really good beach hikes. I'm a neophyte all over again--I want to take all the rocks home! On our last hike, Phil and I each found a "keeper" rock. It was a blue sky day, but oh, so windy--and that wind comes straight off the glacier, so I was pretty chilly.

I love that rock because it looks like a little bird! It reminds me of these whistles you could get when I was a little kid in the '80s. The 'tail' of the bird was the whistle part you blew into, and you had to fill the bird up with water, so it would go tweet-tweet-tweet-tweet-tweet!  as the water burbled.

Phil was very pleased with his rock for more pragmatic reasons--it gleamed with sparkles that were probably not micaceous but rather pyrites--or even gold!

Other bucket list successes--I got the fridge cleaned yesterday! I was too ashamed of its 'before' state to take a picture, but here's the 'after'--

I'm glad I took Phil's advice and tackled only the fridge. Today, I'm working on the freezer below it, and then can move on to the chest freezers outside. So satisfying to have it clean, and have the huge hunk of ice buildup removed! This is a Sunfrost fridge, which is very energy efficient, but which I'm still learning how to use. It's a high humidity system, which is supposedly a good thing, but means that if you wrap things up as you would in a traditional fridge, they go moldy fast! I'm experimenting with leaving more room for air circulation, as it seems alarmingly mold-prone in there in general. Hopefully less so, now that it's clean!

The Best Things Come in Small Bites--Recipe Preview 

For most people, these date treats were a single bite. For me, at least four. 

I shared recently what seems to me a reasonable serving size for nut-date-type bars:

Again, several bites for each piece! 
I remember having a debate with a dear friend of mine about this years ago--she said she loved the feeling of having her mouth stuffed full with goodness--a whole handful of blueberries, a whole marzipan-stuffed date half. I said that to me, that was missing much of the goodness of each individual portion--when I have just a tiny little piece, my whole mouth can work on appreciating the flavor, can derive every last atom of the deliciousness.


I'm sticking to my guns! The best things come in small bites. How lovely to head out for a hike and have snacks that fit in your pocket!

I seldom snack when hiking anyway--Phil and I are opposites in this way--my problem is usually one of getting too thirsty. And water's much heavier to pack...


So, I've made three different "small bites" in the past few days. 
These are carob-apricot small bites (and again, each "bite" is at least four or five bites).

These are apricot-maca small bites...

And these are a version of Nicole of Chena Raw's "Fudgy Chocolate Chews" So happy to have a fellow Alaskan rawish blogger, so happy someone else is paying attention to the omega-3 issue!

I'll share recipes in my next post, but for now, I'll leave you with a cautionary tale. This is why it's good not to post a recipe until you've eaten a creation a few times! Those carob-apricot small bites pictured first of the three feature apricot kernels and almond extract for a delicious marzipan flavor. Just eight apricot kernels, and there are thirty pieces. Well, I ate one of these bites as a mid-afternoon snack two days in a row... And each time, I got very nauseous within an hour or two! There was a clear correlation. I knew that apricot kernels contain a cyanide-like compound, amygdalin, so I did some research. Nausea was listed as a potential side-effect of eating them, but it wasn't supposed to be a common reaction. 


It's very possible that my reaction was due to my currently odd/anomalous body chemistry and that no one else would get sick. But I'm so glad I didn't post the recipe right away! I'd feel so bad if someone else made it and got sick. If there's interest, I'll share the recipe in my next post anyway--but now it'll come with a strong caveat!


Love to all...

Animal, Vegetable, Mineral, or Words? Help Me Choose My Mascot!

Good morning! Sunshine morning today, and a meeting of poets to look forward to.


Today's prompt: Give yourself, your condition, or your health focus a mascot. WEGO represents the concept of a mascot as part of our "branding," to make ourselves more recognizable and visually appealing. That's all well and good; but to me, even more important in the concept of a mascot is the idea of something that transmutes the focuses of my writing into a symbol, that encapsulates my best self, that offers protection.


So, I have several candidates for a mascot, some of which you've seen already. I'd love your thoughts as to which one should be "the mascot"--please let me know!

Animal 

My fluffy "security duster" is an obvious candidate for blog mascot. It's my favorite green, symbolizing growth, nature, renewal. Its tactile appeal takes me out of my head; also takes me out of the moment of emotional torment.

I put it in the "animal" category because that's where humans originally come across soft fleecy fluffiness. I'm not much of an animal lover/pet person, but I recognize the value of pet therapy and how animals can take us out of our heads.


Turtle totem--a couple years ago, I had a vision in which I was "given" the turtle as a totem and protective animal. This worked all kinds of ways. At the time, I was undergoing chelation for heavy metal toxicity: the word "chelation" comes from the Greek word for "turtle." The Latin for turtle, testudo, is also the word for a military formation in which a unit of infantry close ranks and make a wall and roof with their shields. Thorough protection. And it was explained to me in the vision that, per the Aesop fable, I was constantly being "the hare," rushing rushing striving pushing, and needed to allow more "tortoise" into my modus operandi.


Phil had given me these bone turtles from China--I wore one around my neck for a while, but couldn't find an aesthetically pleasing way to use it as a pendant.

 Vegetable

Continuing the green theme of my security duster, an aloe plant seems like a pretty obvious potential mascot.

It grows expansively with little soil, needs little fuel--just like me! It has healing properties and wisdom within its leaves. There is so much more happening under the surface (more on that in the "Words" category). It is patient and enduring, and its bitterness and astringency are bracing and medicinal.

Mineral

Two candidates for the "mineral" category also.

First, my "three-ring circus" ring.

That was my engagement ring--it cost $1 at a thrift store but we love it, so don't tell anyone! I'm wearing it as my wedding ring right now, because my actual wedding ring, which was always too big, kept falling off, and I didn't want to lose it.


This is a candidate for a mascot because of the three intertwined rings--different realities intersecting with one another, touching one another, circles completing themselves but impinging on others--all good reflections for me in terms of thinking about how my presence in the world affects other people, how my actions affect others, how different facets of my own complex self are mutually influencing.


The other "mineral" candidate--I mentioned in my Ten Essentials post how much I love collecting rocks, and my particular penchant for rocks with holes in them. One of the "holey' rocks Phil and Terry found for me on their hikes two weekends ago was smaller than any I've found yet--here it is with my pinkie for scale (and my pinkies are tiny!)--

Like the turtles above, I've wondered about making this into a pendant and wearing it, but don't have the talent to know how to make it look nicer than a rock on a string around my neck! I love how round this one is, how it looks almost like a face in repose. The juxtaposition of the solidity of rock with a space of "nothing" bored right through it is a call to meditation similar to the interlooped circles of my ring.

Words

Finally, since I'm a "words" person first and foremost, my initial reaction to this prompt was that I already had a mascot: it's the tagline at the top of this page! "The unapparent harmony is more powerful than the apparent one," Heraclitus' fragment 36. Not only does this explain the (possibly not catchy or sexy) name of my blog; it also offers an explanation for the quest for balance that inspires all of my conscious actions--and yes, I perpetrate all too many unconscious actions!

What do you think? Please tell me which of these would be the best mascot! Any advice from you jewelry-makers out there on how to make the rock into a pendant would be welcome also. And shares of what your mascot would be. Much love.

Bliss Challenge #2: Destination Present

Here's my tardy response to this week's Bliss Challenge (last week's is here). This week's challenge is to post pictures of where you would go if you could get away from it all.

Without ever making this a conscious choice, I have lived just about my whole adult life in places that are popular as vacation destinations (and at that, I grew up between London and Herzlia, Israel, which are both on the tourist map too). I did my undergraduate degree at Oxford, where in the summer months the tourists were thicker on the ground than students, and sometimes so careless of students hurrying on bikes that I dubbed them "Meanderthals." Yes, that was back in my twerpier days. Then, I lived for many years in the CA Bay Area--less concentratedly touristy, but definitely a "destination." Then, Big Island, Hawaii. Tourists and transients in vast numbers. And now, least likely of all for me, here I am in Homer, Alaska, where everyone says they've "always wanted to visit."

On a day like today, when it's been sleeting and snowing by turns, the attractions are less obvious.

But we get to see both sunrises and incredible sunsets like this one from our windows during the winter months.

And views like these gorgeous mountains...

 ...and teeming salmon, are on our regular route.

I spent many years always imagining where else I might go, how I might be different in a different place, this moment, moving so frequently. But that's all in my head! Nowadays, I find it far more helpful to focus on being present where I am and to use all my tools to keep me in the best possible mental space in that place.

If I could be anywhere else, it would be my grandmother's apartment in Israel, on the right of this picture, or in the yard outside--this view is one of the few constants of my entire life. And I was just there!

Meanwhile, foul as today has been, Phil and I caught a break in the precipitation and went for a longish hike on the beach (which is right below our house--also pretty cool as locations go). We found three rocks that were "keepers."

I'm kind of obsessed with rocks with holes in them. As you can imagine, they're not that common, but there's a certain spot on the beach with enough reddish sedimentary rock with holes that I don't pick up every one I find anymore.

This one's bluish basalt, though--first one like it that I've ever found!

 I hope my choice of "being here now" doesn't seem unimaginative. Everyone knows how much I love warm weather and coconuts! But that would be a whole other story...

What's your favorite "get away from it all" destination--either a location or a metaphysical space?