And http://ulteriorharmony.org/?p=711
Oh, I have so much to share here, and I'm dancing a long-form lesson in taking back the choice over my time and where it goes.
I spent five days last week with no refrigeration. I woke very early to an intense burning-rubber smell, which I finally tracked down to the defunct freezer. Fridge was okay but the smell was unbearable and I couldn't turn off one without the other. Anything like that happens anywhere near the weekend (Thursday--even Wednesday) and you're waiting until Monday.
Daytime temperatures were around 105--great temperatures for bacteria to grow. So, a good opportunity to grow some bugs! It was also several days of hauling blocks of ice and sacks of ice cubes--small potatoes after the 50lb chicken feed sacks, but heavy lifting nonetheless.
I started with my kombucha cultures. Some got black tea, some got green tea. Good old culture that I brought with me from HI, to AK via Oregon, and now AZ!
Then I grated up burdock, half a sweet potato, a bit of coconut, ginger, turmeric. I salted them and mashed them around with my hand--there's no water added to that mix, it's just the veggies' own juices. And yes, that's a kombucha bottle weighting it down! Friendly ferments...
And of course, I'd just opened a brown coconut when the fridge failed. I could have tried sun-drying the pieces but then I'd have had an army of ants. Mold was threatening to form already. So I blended it all up in the Vitamix as fine as I could, together with Irish Moss gel. [Irish Moss is an alga with a gelling action due to the long-chain polysaccharides, just like agar but it gels without needing to be heated.]
And then I opened some high-quality probiotic capsules into the mix. Covered loosely, let sit for a day, and then added to the cooler full of ice cubes.
Honestly, I'm not certain that the bacteria I wanted are the ones I got. I'm a little afraid of the coconut cheese -- had a bit of it one evening and was sick as a dog, but it could have been something else (I'm also not sure that Irish Moss works in this body).
I'm enjoying the trial and error with the bugs in this new environment.
The fridge finally arrived at 11pm Monday night. Obnoxiously late, especially when I'd finished unloading the coolers, mopping the floor, etc. etc...
And of course, when something isn't an issue, you don't think about it anymore. I'm not constantly rotating food, draining coolers (and using the water to mop the floor or flush the toilet), going out for more ice)...and it just becomes a no brainer. But, especially not having had a decent refrigeration set-up at my former abode with the chicken folks, I am grateful grateful grateful every single day, whether I'm eating or not, that my food is being held from this weather, that I can choose whether or not I want to grow bugs! I wish the same for my own body.
I wish for everyone good, positive bugs--commensals rather than parasites.
And at:
http://ulteriorharmony.org/?p=709
I put my candles on my altar-windowsill, my north-facing bedroom window (my "spiritual growth" direction in Feng Shui), and left for the afternoon.
When I came home and entered the bedroom, I laughed out loud!
Here's a closeup of the left one. Dying swan, anyone? Or maybe a snake.
I'm loving how I run into unexpected differences, although this was, of course, entirely predictable (even facing north).
Before I moved in here, it was very clear to me that I wanted this to be a sacred space. I envisioned a quiet, beautiful, well-ordered space, tidier than some of my spaces have been, from which I could move forth into the world, and into which I could receive and welcome other people while protecting my own energy. An outer space to reflect and co-create my inner space.
That's what I'm creating. It's also an opportunity to learn things about myself. For example, that I don't necessarily want matching crockery!
There's somewhat of a theme to what I picked out, although the top right green-bordered white ones I bought because they are identical to some I bought in Homer, AK--in that case I got a kick out of matching. But the floral one on the right is an English china Wedgwood; I was channeling my mum when I picked it out. And the small squared glass saucer is something my English grandmother would have had.
The other side of sacred inward space, though, is going out into the world. Especially having been so busy recently, I realize I haven't done so much of that. Going out into the world requires some support, especially with some of the challenges I deal with. I've been resisting the urge to crowdsource my therapy by venting on my blog or bleating on Facebook. But I can see why my doctor was so concerned that I have care set up before I arrived here. I still don't. And in the recent stressful time my eating issues have driven me almost crazy. What I'm doing right now feels better to me but I know (because I told Phil about it, sorry Phil) that my friends would not think it's a good idea. That's all I'm going to say. I think I've talked inappropriately about such issues on this blog before, and I hope the fact that I'm consciously (and conscientiously) not doing so now, while admitting that there's an issue, will reassure people that things aren't so bad.
I am on my way to getting some care stuff set up. I'm excited to be part of a community (Facebook, virtual, actual, and all) where we all listen to and take care of each other, but not as a substitute for medical care. And I'm here to listen.
And at:
http://ulteriorharmony.org/?p=707
I really mean it! Just getting back into my own rhythm here, and I wish to be conscious about my choices going forward so that I may live by my own rhythms rather than constantly be in reactive mode. I'm sure many of you can relate to how challenging it can be to hold that space. How ironic, having moved across the country off my own bat I've been feeling like a piece of modeling clay lately. I'm all for flexibility, but there needs to be a core.
Back to the couch--I'm just so thrilled to be able to offer "crash space" to visiting friends with comfort, expansiveness (nice big futon folds out), clean sheets.
As I work my way back into this online space and more of a regular program I look forward to easing in with more of the home tour. So, just south of the couch (sitting room/guest bedroom) is my office!
At the time of the photo, the office was engulfed by some last-minute corrections for my dictionary job, hence unruly scraps of paper and the giant dictionary is on the middle shelf behind the office chair. As of today, there are books on the shelf.
It's been well over 100 degrees F (over 40 Celcius) ever since I got back from my work trip to Pittsburgh. Although I haven't spent that much time outside yet, alas, I have to confess: I am LOVING the heat! I've been running a small fan at my computer, and I do generally have the a/c on in my car, but I've only been turning on the swamp cooler in my house for a little while in the evenings, and sometimes not even that. The only uncomfortable thing, aside from other people's (especially businesses) too-cold a/c, is wearing fewer clothes. I'm so used to being shrouded and bundled, and walking around with actual skin above my wrists and ankles and below my neck is awkward.
Love, light, and warmth to everyone--and welcome to my home!
And at
http://ulteriorharmony.org/?p=705
So, I moved to Arizona and vanished! I stopped answering emails and letters, failed to send promised letters, disappeared from Facebook. Sometimes I didn't process a paycheck or overlooked a check in the mail because I simply didn't have time to attend to anything.
But wait--wasn't I supposed to be moving on to the next, better, more empowered, sunnier phase of my life?
Well, yes, I was. And those solar panels augured a return to low-impact, conscious living, as in my Hawaii days. As Phil pointed out--and he met me in Hawaii and happened to be in AZ right when I arrived--it also augured a return to working extremely hard for other people, as I did there, so that I'd never feel satisfied with the work, inevitably small contribution to neverending chores, and would also never have the energy to do my own creative work. That Phil, love him. He has quite the habit of being right.
I always want to be of great service when I'm of service. And there is always more to do. When I first showed up, I worked all hours on the farm. I got better at guarding "my own" time but only because my work obligations mounted and mounted.
And sometimes the chores are tedious, sometimes stinky, and then there was the "attack rooster" storyline which was probably the last anyone heard of me on Facebook.
And these feed sacks. They're 50lbs...
...if you know how small I am, you can imagine that deadlifting them from an obstacle-strewn floor and humping them out the door, maybe half a dozen on a heavy (pun intended) day, would be wearying.
Meanwhile I took on an editing client here in town who likes my work very much, and it was RWW-thesis-proofreading season, and my dictionary job stepped up the pace too. This is not an excuse but an explanation of my disappearance.
I'm back! I had to pull myself back! All the times I've spoken of the "unmilked cow" feeling from not writing...after this six weeks or so of overwork plus physical chores I'm beyond unmilked cow maybe into worn-out leather territory! Worn-out leather that holds a stiff shape only tangentially connected to how it used to look. And it's funny how "lack of writing" is both a symptom and a result of failure of self care.
Once I'd gotten clear that things had to change--and THANK YOU, my friends whose advice I asked, all of whom unanimously counseled me to reclaim my life and move--I meditated and imagined what sort of a home I'd like to live in. A small, but spacious self-contained house. Ground outside for growing things. Set back from the road but not behind a gate. A certain price range I had in mind. And I kept an eye on Craigslist. And uncannily soon, I found it!
More pictures soon when I give you the tour, but this was the bare-bones walk through. A little house (half of a duplex) with separate bedroom/main room/bathroom/kitchen--I've never had such expansion in my whole life before! A big yard in the back, too. I know this isn't exactly a great time of year to start gardening in Tucson (it's been well over 100 degrees the last several days) but plenty of time, right? Having a whole inside-of-a-house to furnish and organize just as I please is its own kind of gardening.
I even like that it's nondescript on the outside. Sacred space. Sacred space has been my main intention.
I worked chickens through the end of the month save a four-day trip to Pittsburgh to work on a book. Returned from Pittsburgh, did some final chores, moved!
I've spent three nights here so far, not entirely unpacked, and I have such a good feeling about it.
I struggled with intense guilt about letting down the chicken farmers, being a flake, being selfish, not keeping my word. But I also know with deep knowing that I have done the right thing for myself, without even going into the terrible self-care habits I was sinking into in that situation, and this selfishness means that I have a better chance of being able to give more. To write to my friends and on my blog, for example!
It is good to be back.
Also at http://ulteriorharmony.org/?p=702
A couple days ago, I got called out for overfeeding the chickens. Slightly, the turkeys too.
The young chicks are so numerous and so voracious, there's no chance of overfeeding them--I'm hauling out a 50lb sack of their feed every other day, and every morning their bowls are picked clean.
But the feed is too expensive to have it ending up on the ground because the chickens not cleaning it up well due to abundance.
Ooh, way to chastise and chasten me! You all know how much I dislike waste. Chickens, with their ability to clean up, are patron saints of the blessed realization that there is no such thing as waste, so I could have blamed on myself pretty hard for making very-chickens wasteful! But I haven't been beating up on myself quite so much of late, since all that time on the road. Just like the "injuring the attack-rooster" incident (which I shared on Facebook and may tell in more detail here as things shape up), I'm recognizing that this is part of the learning curve. In fact, it's part of "knowing what you're looking at" once again--knowing how to gauge food consumption.
As I fed this morning, I was meditating on what feeding these chickens meant to me--why it was that I'd ended up overfeeding them. Turned out, my heuristic hadn't been "Chickens need x amount of food per day." Instead, it had been "I'm feeding someone else's chickens and I really want to show that I'm responsible and reliable." If there's visibly food in their feeders, the message is "I won't neglect your precious birds." In retrospect, I might have communicated my worth more appropriately by underfeeding: "I treat your expensive feed with respect."
I'm glad to have taken the metaphoring and nonverbal communicating out of the "how much feed will they eat?" equation. Who knew so much could be said with farm chores?
***Diving in in medias res*** I know it's been over two weeks since my last post, and that this is my first post from my new abode! The easiest way to break a hiatus is simply to dive into the middle of it, so, voilà. As I continue to ponder my "dual blog and what is the blog about anyway" existential challenge, though, it does occur to me that a continual thread of mine is investigation of metaphors, so I'm contemplating how that might be promoted and centralized.
Otherwise, here I am--what do you want to hear about?
Sending desert love!
Ela.
And at
http://ulteriorharmony.org/?p=700
In my previous post, I mentioned developing a mindfulness practice of bringing awareness: to what I'm experiencing by naming it. Very often, naming equates to differentiation: what I am seeing is remarkable (i.e. I'm remarking upon it) because it is different from other things I see.
Within a couple hours of leaving the Bay Area yesterday, I got up into the high country and have been back in snows, above treeline, back down again and up again. Fascinating what a barometer the trees are. Or an altimeter--get too high up and they disappear. These scrubby silver-green shrubs give such a monochrome cast to the scenery. Much of the Nevada stretch of my journey yesterday and today looked like this; even more monochrome when more overcast. I passed a flock of sheep who all looked the same color as the shrubs around them.
Something else, though, that I sought to put a name to, was the quality of the sky.
It looked like this in northern CA, in Mt. Shasta country, also. The "difference" is how the clouds stack three dimensionally, at the same not-very-great height but one behind the other, as if suspended above a stage set. It says big sky, broad mountains, the clouds like speech bubbles in between them.
This is Bryce Canyon. Snow on red rock, labyrinth of the mind.
The "natural bridge" blew me away, but this photograph doesn't do it justice.
Utah is one hour ahead of CA, NV--and AZ, since AZ, very sensibly, doesn't participate in the daylight savings nonsense. I got a late start this morning after driving too late last night, later than I had energy for, and when I crossed into UT and learned (smart phone!) that I'd "lost" an hour, I repined a little--even less time to do stuff. But with the next heartbeat, I decided not to consider it an hour lost. I'd been gaining and losing elevation for two days straight, but my ears could always pop. I, of all people, well know that time cannot be lost.
Also at http://ulteriorharmony.org/?p=697
I'm still alive, and I'm in Berkeley! I was offline for four days of the ferry from Haines to Bellingham, then some serious driving, some wonderful hospitality, and catching up with dear, dear friends whom I haven't seen in way too long. Interesting that when I was in England last fall, I found myself telling people it wouldn't be so long until the next time I saw them (it had been three years that time). And now in the Bay Area, I've been saying the same thing to my friends here. Conceptually, AZ feels so much closer to everything/everywhere. My car has come down with a bunch of fairly serious issues. I'm so glad I caught it yesterday and so grateful that my friends have a mechanic they trust who is taking care of the issues today. In my first post from the road, my lesson 2, in part, was not to over-worry about noises or smells my car may or may not have been emitting, so it's interesting that the rider to that lesson now is to follow intuition. When the road pavement was washboarded and it sounded like a blown-out tire, I was glad to recognize that there was no need to worry along those lines. On the other hand, taking my car to the mechanic this morning because "it might be nothing but it's a specific noise that happens in a specific context that wasn't happening until last night" may have averted a breakdown in the middle of nowhere.
I'm sitting here with the atlas and trying to figure out the best route from here to Bryce Canyon, where I want to stop on my way to Tucson, preparing my spirit for the next reach.
In WA, OR, and CA the past four days have been full of torrential rain, with some thunder and lightning. Very different driving than in AK, very different flora. It was sweet to see my first palm tree a little ways north of Sacramento, my first prickly pears on the 405 west of Sacramento.
So much is different, of course. My conception of how many miles I can cover in a given time changes depending on the roads--the "220 miles = ca. 5 hours" based on Homer-to-Anchorage algorithm is gone. Stop-go traffic for over four hours in the Seattle area on Friday; three hundred miles in less than five hours on Saturday morning.
Different, too, being in an area with fruit trees everywhere, and produce stores everywhere. I'm so habituated to there being maybe three places in town where produce is available, and that's all for about seventy miles.
With all the friends I've visited, it's been as though no time had elapsed, although we hadn't seen each other for seven years. This gives me some hope and good feelings about preserving the precious friendships I just drove away from in AK. There is something so grounding about these enduring friendship connections: that they exist, that they continue even with nothing physical supporting them. As I pay attention to my own relationship with, orientation toward, connection with, the outside world, recently I've often become aware of being on autopilot; of looking at things and simply not knowing what I'm looking at. Without labeling, without judgment, I've been using my gift of language to put words, very very simple words, to what I'm seeing, using them as little mantras to bring myself to the present. Also, of understanding what I'm seeing to compare it to what I've seen elsewhere; to acknowledge and understand how one place differs from the next place. It is deepening my engagement with this transition, so that I'm inhabiting the place in which I currently am, rather than just blowing on through lost in my head.
Here are some pictures of what I've been seeing.
Snowy conifers from the boat:
Snowclad mountains in the distance; snows receding in the foreground:
Ketchikan--still in AK but a whole different climate. Mountain and ocean right there together--land at the dock and the road goes straight up. Some of the town hewn straight through native rock:
Crocuses and buds in Ketchikan:
A standard view at an opening between two stores in Ketchikan's front. Many big generic touristy stores; many businesses closed; Ketchikan is bigger than Homer but evidently much more seasonal and dependent on the tourists on the summer cruise ships and ferries. There were a couple stores with the strident label "We are staffed by natives of Ketchikan and are open year round to serve our community," with a strong implication of all the negatives of these affirmations. Not everyone loves the tourists!
My camera didn't come out for those three days of driving and visiting. This is Cafe Borrone in Menlo Park, which I never visited when I lived there but is now the place where I reconnected with two lovely friends.
And this is the view from my friends' porch. Oh, I spent so many hours here when I lived in Berkeley. Oh what dear friends, how good it is to see them!
More soon when I'm back on the road! And more awareness around seeing. I always hear what I'm hearing, so it's interesting to be paying more attention to seeing like this! Anyone else?
