My review of this week would be rather mixed and emotional, so the best thing I heard this week was pretty shallow...
I was wearing a particular outfit on Tuesday and received several compliments... Hmm. That statement doesn't characterize the day very well. I went into a restaurant where two separate people mentioned that they liked my ensemble. Then I received another compliment about 25 minutes later from another stranger in another shop. 10 minutes later, I received three more compliments from three different people in another store.
That just doesn't happen everyday.
Just when I thought I'd throw that skirt out...
Saturday, September 12, 2009
Friday, September 11, 2009
Friday Sabbath: The Right to Screw Up
I tell my students to avoid judging themselves, or others, during their practice. After the bulk of the work is done, I guide everyone to the back of the mat to close their eyes and breathe. I ask them to think about their intentions and to seal themselves with grace and gratitude for what they can do... because each day is a different day in our lives and in our asana practice.
Then I get in my car, travel home, and I can't practice what I preach. I start looking at things I shouldn't have said, shouldn't have done, or I consider the same of other people- how they're messing up, how they're in for a rude awakening after making certain decisions, etc. When enclosed in the sanctuary space of the yoga studio, all the wisdom in the world is clearer than it is when I have to go back to my daily life.
How hypocritical of me. I pick on certain groups of Christians for doing the same thing... for talking all about Sweet Jesus and how He loves everyone and wants us to take care of each other... and then those same Jesus-loving, Gd-fearing people go home and steal from their parents, cuss people out on the road, turn their backs on their flesh and blood. I act so similarly to these people within my own sets of beliefs (save only that I'm not badgering anyone to specifically agree with me... just not walking my talk all the time).
I just read this article in Body+Soul entitled "The Magic of Mistakes," concerning our attitudes about screwing up. It describes the traps we set for ourselves when we have an end-all perspective on our own mistakes or those of others. As an example, an editor sent an email of her first scribbled edition of a manuscript to the writer of the work rather than another editor with a simple slip on the keyboard. She simply hit the wrong button and had never intended the writer to see these harsher comments. The editor wrote a heartfelt apology, but the writer retaliated with blind fury. The editor tried one more time to apologize, but no good came from her efforts. In this case, the article explains that she trapped herself in this self-defining mode rather than see the mistake for what it was: a slip on the keyboard. She had to stop apologizing and start realizing that her accident was not malicious, not an attack. She would eventually choose to see the mistake for what it was and learn to be more careful rather than redefine herself as a hurtful, mean person.
I know I've been caught in that trap of feeling guilty for something that was innocent. I don't take my own mistakes very well. One of the authors quoted in this article, Joseph Hallinan, describes my opinion better than I can: Those who tend to see intelligence as fixed have a much harder time acknowledging and dealing with mistakes. They see it as a chink in their intellectual armor. And that's me alright. I have no compassion for my limitations. This inevitably causes me to express some frustration for people who have found a healthy way to be kind to themselves about their mishaps. I grapple with trying to value my mistakes as lessons to better myself... that probably sounds worn out and trite, but I have a feeling it's less destructive to myself and my relationships to find opportunities for growth in the midst of my failures as well as see mistakes of others as their right to grow and develop, too.
The article also discussed this idea of taking credit for one's part in an argument. This is probably the one aspect of making mistakes that I practice actively. I am usually willing to see what part I play in aggravating certain circumstances. I may not do it immediately after the disagreement, but given enough time, I can return to an argument and tell my partner in crime that I can see where I went wrong. This frequently helps the other person open up to his or her shortcomings and then the argument is readily settled. This is harder with people who cannot do them same... people with whom you openly admit your faults... and they just let you and leave you there relieving themselves of responsibility for their choices. The article does admit that, well, life's just like that and not everyone is ready to be as honest as all that (Though the editor apologized twice, the write would hear none of it). They might be stuck in that trap of self-defining guilt (I did something stupid, therefor I am stupid) and are more unwilling to come forward with their part in the debacle. I'm not sure how I'm able to skip to this part... I guess my self-loathing is lodged deep enough that I can keep it as my own problem and try my best not to burden my loved ones.
The deadliest snare is that of the "should of" philosophy. When we look back on a mistake and reinforce our struggles with the first two traps above by reprimanding ourselves. We should have seen it coming. The example in the article tells of a woman who married a man with a very public history of cheating. She figured with public humiliation like that, he'd think twice before doing it again. Sadly, she was wrong, and you know how that story ends. Still, she succumbed to the tossing and turning of how she should have known better... when really, how can you? Some people really do have the fortitude to change. It was her mistake to make and she really couldn't have know if it was a mistake until she tried. We can cut ourselves out of several opportunities working for our betterment in the future if we remain haunted by our inability to see into the future.
I'm trying to think of a choice I made that could have turned out badly but then turned out for the best. It's hard to think backwards like this since those things turned out well... maybe the yoga teacher training could have been one of those mistakes. I could have performed poorly and not been hired to teach... or worse, I could have done well and then still failed to get a job offer. Or it could have been a horrible experience altogether. It's a lot of money, too, for a big letdown. Instead, I did pretty well, had a decent time, and ultimately it led me to an active work experience at a wonderful studio where I genuinely enjoy the work, the people, the place.
It's a hard balance to strike. It's easier to swing the penduluum the other way and care too little about making mistakes letting them slide by with no consequence or reflection. I guess I'll make like a kid taking the steep stairs at Grandma's one and a time for fear of falling down to his/her untimely death...
Most things in life come back to Frasier... I'm reminded of something Martin said: You know, as you get older, it's not the failures that you regret or the times you made an ass of yourself... it's the times you never tried... when you just lost your nerve.
(Well, things didn't work so well for the people in the episode, but that's another entry for another day...)
Then I get in my car, travel home, and I can't practice what I preach. I start looking at things I shouldn't have said, shouldn't have done, or I consider the same of other people- how they're messing up, how they're in for a rude awakening after making certain decisions, etc. When enclosed in the sanctuary space of the yoga studio, all the wisdom in the world is clearer than it is when I have to go back to my daily life.
How hypocritical of me. I pick on certain groups of Christians for doing the same thing... for talking all about Sweet Jesus and how He loves everyone and wants us to take care of each other... and then those same Jesus-loving, Gd-fearing people go home and steal from their parents, cuss people out on the road, turn their backs on their flesh and blood. I act so similarly to these people within my own sets of beliefs (save only that I'm not badgering anyone to specifically agree with me... just not walking my talk all the time).
I just read this article in Body+Soul entitled "The Magic of Mistakes," concerning our attitudes about screwing up. It describes the traps we set for ourselves when we have an end-all perspective on our own mistakes or those of others. As an example, an editor sent an email of her first scribbled edition of a manuscript to the writer of the work rather than another editor with a simple slip on the keyboard. She simply hit the wrong button and had never intended the writer to see these harsher comments. The editor wrote a heartfelt apology, but the writer retaliated with blind fury. The editor tried one more time to apologize, but no good came from her efforts. In this case, the article explains that she trapped herself in this self-defining mode rather than see the mistake for what it was: a slip on the keyboard. She had to stop apologizing and start realizing that her accident was not malicious, not an attack. She would eventually choose to see the mistake for what it was and learn to be more careful rather than redefine herself as a hurtful, mean person.
I know I've been caught in that trap of feeling guilty for something that was innocent. I don't take my own mistakes very well. One of the authors quoted in this article, Joseph Hallinan, describes my opinion better than I can: Those who tend to see intelligence as fixed have a much harder time acknowledging and dealing with mistakes. They see it as a chink in their intellectual armor. And that's me alright. I have no compassion for my limitations. This inevitably causes me to express some frustration for people who have found a healthy way to be kind to themselves about their mishaps. I grapple with trying to value my mistakes as lessons to better myself... that probably sounds worn out and trite, but I have a feeling it's less destructive to myself and my relationships to find opportunities for growth in the midst of my failures as well as see mistakes of others as their right to grow and develop, too.
The article also discussed this idea of taking credit for one's part in an argument. This is probably the one aspect of making mistakes that I practice actively. I am usually willing to see what part I play in aggravating certain circumstances. I may not do it immediately after the disagreement, but given enough time, I can return to an argument and tell my partner in crime that I can see where I went wrong. This frequently helps the other person open up to his or her shortcomings and then the argument is readily settled. This is harder with people who cannot do them same... people with whom you openly admit your faults... and they just let you and leave you there relieving themselves of responsibility for their choices. The article does admit that, well, life's just like that and not everyone is ready to be as honest as all that (Though the editor apologized twice, the write would hear none of it). They might be stuck in that trap of self-defining guilt (I did something stupid, therefor I am stupid) and are more unwilling to come forward with their part in the debacle. I'm not sure how I'm able to skip to this part... I guess my self-loathing is lodged deep enough that I can keep it as my own problem and try my best not to burden my loved ones.
The deadliest snare is that of the "should of" philosophy. When we look back on a mistake and reinforce our struggles with the first two traps above by reprimanding ourselves. We should have seen it coming. The example in the article tells of a woman who married a man with a very public history of cheating. She figured with public humiliation like that, he'd think twice before doing it again. Sadly, she was wrong, and you know how that story ends. Still, she succumbed to the tossing and turning of how she should have known better... when really, how can you? Some people really do have the fortitude to change. It was her mistake to make and she really couldn't have know if it was a mistake until she tried. We can cut ourselves out of several opportunities working for our betterment in the future if we remain haunted by our inability to see into the future.
I'm trying to think of a choice I made that could have turned out badly but then turned out for the best. It's hard to think backwards like this since those things turned out well... maybe the yoga teacher training could have been one of those mistakes. I could have performed poorly and not been hired to teach... or worse, I could have done well and then still failed to get a job offer. Or it could have been a horrible experience altogether. It's a lot of money, too, for a big letdown. Instead, I did pretty well, had a decent time, and ultimately it led me to an active work experience at a wonderful studio where I genuinely enjoy the work, the people, the place.
It's a hard balance to strike. It's easier to swing the penduluum the other way and care too little about making mistakes letting them slide by with no consequence or reflection. I guess I'll make like a kid taking the steep stairs at Grandma's one and a time for fear of falling down to his/her untimely death...
Most things in life come back to Frasier... I'm reminded of something Martin said: You know, as you get older, it's not the failures that you regret or the times you made an ass of yourself... it's the times you never tried... when you just lost your nerve.
(Well, things didn't work so well for the people in the episode, but that's another entry for another day...)
Thursday, September 10, 2009
Thursday Kitchen: The Joy of Doing It Yourself
There are a handful of treats we tend to buy in the grocery store... bread, canned goods, ice cream or sorbet, bread crumbs in the can, frozen pizza, etc. The grocery store is great for those rushed occasions when you don't have the time to make it yourself...
...but these sorts of things are so much more satisfying, and often better tasting, when you make it yourself.
...but these sorts of things are so much more satisfying, and often better tasting, when you make it yourself.
Bread
Okay, yes, I have a bread maker, but before I did, I was rather inspired by Jo's Apricot loafs and Anya's occasional sweet bread creations. They made these loafs in bread pans and baked them in the oven. Admittedly, if you want to make a plain wheat loaf in a bread pan, there's going to be a little more labor involved (kneading, rising, kneading, rising, and so on). So, if you don't have a bread maker, I can see how in this fast-paced society that this would cost you a few nerves you don't have to lose. Still, a weekend here or there, if you made a big loaf on the weekends, it could last you all week.
For the lucky people with bread makers, you have bread at your fingertips! All you need to do are place ingredients in the special pan (usually wet ingredients first), push the button, and you'll have fresh baked bread in a few hours. There's a paddle in the drum that performs the task of kneading for you and then there's a heating element in the machine that does the baking. And there's no end to the breads that you can make. While I tend to stick to either whole wheat or multi-grain loafs, some people I know have made savory tomato and herb breads or chocolate chip breads. At home, we try to have fresh bread regularly or I'll occasionally make French baguettes... it takes a little more effort, but I've had people asking for more...
For the lucky people with bread makers, you have bread at your fingertips! All you need to do are place ingredients in the special pan (usually wet ingredients first), push the button, and you'll have fresh baked bread in a few hours. There's a paddle in the drum that performs the task of kneading for you and then there's a heating element in the machine that does the baking. And there's no end to the breads that you can make. While I tend to stick to either whole wheat or multi-grain loafs, some people I know have made savory tomato and herb breads or chocolate chip breads. At home, we try to have fresh bread regularly or I'll occasionally make French baguettes... it takes a little more effort, but I've had people asking for more...
Canned Goods
It used to be a regular practice to can your own tomatoes or beans. Of course, it used to be a regular practice to have a garden bursting with vegetables if you go back far enough...
Still, in the late months of summer, gardens are booming with hot weather veggies (particularly tomatoes!) and there are few people that I know that are able to eat but so many tomatoes in a sitting. One of my favorite scenes in Barbara Kingsolver's ANIMAL, VEGETABLE, MIRACLE describes all the counter space in her kitchen piled with the juicy red orbs. Knowing that there would be no local tomatoes once winter set in, she canned her tomatoes for sauces, soups, salsas, etc. I have one friend who is reviving this lost art in her kitchen and offering canned tomatoes from the bounty at our local farmers' market to us... her lucky friends and family. I have a feeling that when I open my can up in the fall, for my first pot of vegetarian chili, that this will be my tastiest batch yet.
It used to be a regular practice to can your own tomatoes or beans. Of course, it used to be a regular practice to have a garden bursting with vegetables if you go back far enough...
Still, in the late months of summer, gardens are booming with hot weather veggies (particularly tomatoes!) and there are few people that I know that are able to eat but so many tomatoes in a sitting. One of my favorite scenes in Barbara Kingsolver's ANIMAL, VEGETABLE, MIRACLE describes all the counter space in her kitchen piled with the juicy red orbs. Knowing that there would be no local tomatoes once winter set in, she canned her tomatoes for sauces, soups, salsas, etc. I have one friend who is reviving this lost art in her kitchen and offering canned tomatoes from the bounty at our local farmers' market to us... her lucky friends and family. I have a feeling that when I open my can up in the fall, for my first pot of vegetarian chili, that this will be my tastiest batch yet.
Ice Cream and Sorbet
I'm guilty again of having a handy-dandy machine, but the first ice cream I ever made was in France with my host mother. She had this iron dish into which we poured a gooey, lemony mixture. The next day, in the heat of Southern France, we had enough ice cream for the two of us for a week! Now, it wasn't the perfect creamy consistency that you find in Breyers or Edey's ice cream, but it was cold and delicious.
Now I have my own ice cream machine that helps me get closer to that creamy texture from the grocery store. I've created a number of different kinds of ice cream and sorbet. My first attempt was this grape, lime, and mint sorbet I made for Tu B'Shivat. I moved on to strawberry sorbet, strawberry ice cream (two very different processes... sorbet is more time consuming but more friendly to those who can't digest dairy), berry swirl ice cream, and what David has labeled "champagne sorbet" (it's made of orange, lemon, and lime juices). By making it myself, I'm able to adjust the sweetness and the flavor to my choosing or to the dietary needs of my guests. It's so very rewarding, too, to make something that seems unmakeable by mere mortals...
I'm guilty again of having a handy-dandy machine, but the first ice cream I ever made was in France with my host mother. She had this iron dish into which we poured a gooey, lemony mixture. The next day, in the heat of Southern France, we had enough ice cream for the two of us for a week! Now, it wasn't the perfect creamy consistency that you find in Breyers or Edey's ice cream, but it was cold and delicious.
Now I have my own ice cream machine that helps me get closer to that creamy texture from the grocery store. I've created a number of different kinds of ice cream and sorbet. My first attempt was this grape, lime, and mint sorbet I made for Tu B'Shivat. I moved on to strawberry sorbet, strawberry ice cream (two very different processes... sorbet is more time consuming but more friendly to those who can't digest dairy), berry swirl ice cream, and what David has labeled "champagne sorbet" (it's made of orange, lemon, and lime juices). By making it myself, I'm able to adjust the sweetness and the flavor to my choosing or to the dietary needs of my guests. It's so very rewarding, too, to make something that seems unmakeable by mere mortals...
Bread crumbs
I make a handful of breaded foods... green tomatoes, sometimes turkey, sometimes eggplant... and it's somewhat time-consuming. One dips the sliced food into flour, then egg, and finally into bread crumbs. We've all seen them in the store and we've all bothered to get them when we're making chicken parmesan or what have you...
But, why? Do you know what's in it? Brumb crumbs and spices. That's it! So, I have those things... I toast my bread, stick it in my Cusinart (I'm sure a good blender on the right setting would do the job, too), toss it with Oregano, thyme, basil, and pepper, and I'm ready. I've come to find that my bread crumbs are less salty than the store-bought kind. I sort of feel foolish now whenever I succumb to a recipe list of ingredients and buy a can of bread crumbs that I make better on my own.
But, why? Do you know what's in it? Brumb crumbs and spices. That's it! So, I have those things... I toast my bread, stick it in my Cusinart (I'm sure a good blender on the right setting would do the job, too), toss it with Oregano, thyme, basil, and pepper, and I'm ready. I've come to find that my bread crumbs are less salty than the store-bought kind. I sort of feel foolish now whenever I succumb to a recipe list of ingredients and buy a can of bread crumbs that I make better on my own.
Pizza
This is the most time-consuming of the DIY projects I've mentioned here... but I've ruined myself forever. I actually have notcied that I feel sick to my stomach after eating any store bought or delivery pizza... but I'm right as rain when eating my own...
The major issue is making your own dough. So, those of us with bread makers are good to go there... but it is certainly possible to make your own dough without one. I know it's true (I saw that episode of Reading Rainbow, didn't you?)! One that's done, there's no idiot teenager to argue with about your toppings - just slice whatever's in the fridge that you like. Pizza sauce is a little time consuming to make... if you have left over spaghetti sauce, however, that works just as well. Then you know how to do the rest!
It's not practical for everyone to make any of these things themselves, so, thank goodness for the markets. But, when you feel like experimenting, have a little time to prove to yourself that you can do this, there are few things as ego-boosting as making something yourself that people like... probably something healthier for you than the preservative-injected freezer goods in the market. Something custom made to you and your tastes.
The major issue is making your own dough. So, those of us with bread makers are good to go there... but it is certainly possible to make your own dough without one. I know it's true (I saw that episode of Reading Rainbow, didn't you?)! One that's done, there's no idiot teenager to argue with about your toppings - just slice whatever's in the fridge that you like. Pizza sauce is a little time consuming to make... if you have left over spaghetti sauce, however, that works just as well. Then you know how to do the rest!
It's not practical for everyone to make any of these things themselves, so, thank goodness for the markets. But, when you feel like experimenting, have a little time to prove to yourself that you can do this, there are few things as ego-boosting as making something yourself that people like... probably something healthier for you than the preservative-injected freezer goods in the market. Something custom made to you and your tastes.
Wednesday, September 9, 2009
Wednesday Valuables: This is only a test
One of those calendars from The City hangs by my desk. The pictures are uninteresting, only the Christian and government holidays are acknowledged, and the squares aren't really big enough to write the full day's worth of events. Still, what it does have going for it are these warnings. Williamsburg sounds this loud, wailing siren every so often to test if it will work to alert its citizens of an emergency. We have fair warning on this calendar when this will happen so when you hear it on a Wednesday morning you don't jump out of your skin searching for the hurricane, or crashing plane, or aliens!
After a long thrashing night with my feelings (and Minerva waking me up hours before my alarm went off), I was still in bed with my brains achy and worn out when I heard the siren sound. I briefly opened my eyes, considered for a second looking out the window for any troubles, but then I could see in my mind the circle within a few circles symbol on the calendar indicating the test.
Something about this brief acknowledgment with The City's test reminded me of something my Russian father said to me... look out, because this is a bit of a stretch...
He said that in most relationships, there will be times when the exchange rate is not 50/50 percent on both sides. Sometimes it's 60/40... other times 70/30... he's even seen days of 90/10. He said things can't always go on this way, but it happens, and part of loving people is approaching these moments with that understanding.
Perhaps these moments represent the tests of our relationships, our friendships. We can easily consider what causes these moments: A move to another state, a new career, a new family, weddings, funerals, school, hard emotional times, etc. These things and certainly more place obstacles in all our paths. We have to spend our time differently. We spend our energy differently. Most of us need to conserve our energies to focus on these tasks and to avoid other stresses such as losing the new job, a deal on a living space falling through, feeling like a bad parent, the wedding being called off, our feelings bottling up after the death of a loved one, failing our classes, etc. There are many obvious reasons to concentrate on the task at hand.
But where does that leave your friends, your family, your boyfriend/girlfriend or spouse?
I guess that's where we learn how much we love each other or how much we need to let go. As my Russian father said, it's can't always be 70/30 or 90/10. Things need to level back out to at least 60/40. No one can always be the giver... and I suspect it's difficult for self-aware, thinking people to always be the taker. There surely are also moments when neither party can do either. That's when you evaluate what matters to you about having this person in your world. What sort of love and patience do you have to offer or need in return?
After all, once we're settled into the new house, it will be easier to visit or invite people to come and stay... the new career will become more routine, eventually demanding a little less or a different type of your energy... the kids will grow up and take better care of themselves... things after the wedding will calm down... time will heal the sorrows of losing your relative, pet, friend... school lets out in summer and then there's always graduation around the corner. Things don't tend to stay this way forever.
So, can you stand it? Can you step back and allow your loved ones to go through whatever they need to as life moves on? Can you accept being placed on the back burner of their lives for a while knowing that this doesn't change the love... just the locale or way it's maintained?
I'll admit it... I struggle with this. My abandonment complex kicks in full throttle and wonders if I'm just not important anymore... if I'm only wanted when I'm needed... if I will easily be forgotten. I'm not always trusting of the idea that years can pass between two true friends or real lovers and not change the significance or joy of that relationship. I never factored in the idea that a spouse might need time separate from his or her partner to work through emotional blockages or new career paths.
But, have I not done the same things? It's hard to remember now, but in college, surely I let things change in my friendships... I don't remember it this way though. I was so busy... if I wasn't studying or trying to squeeze in dinner between reading assignments or killing myself at work, then I was with my family, my friends. I felt like life was full, but perhaps these people noticed a change from the amount of time I offered before college to the busy first few semesters. Since I was so pre-occupied, I noticed no change in my feelings and certainly had trouble keeping store of how my time was spent... I was getting by, doing the best I could.
So, here I am at a time when many people I know and love are transitioning. My brothers are working and probably soon to fly the coop. Tristan is moving today... and he and I were never great with distance before (when he went to UVA). Some friends are back in school. My family is back in school (most of them are teachers). Some of my friends are starting new families with babies or taking in new household members out of bad situations. I, too, work more frequently and I'm taking a very time-consuming, writing-intensive course at the college. I have many projects I need to start and decisions to make about next year. We're all so very busy...
...but, this is a test... this is only a test...
Admittedly, times like these can sometimes lead to a crossroad where one party needs to venture down a path that the other could never dream of following. I doubt that changes much of the acutal feelings between those people who just cannot relate to one another's choices any longer. More often than not, however, I think we can see that times of more intense struggle just need space to pass. We're not always going to be too busy for one another. If anything, more precious and treasured will be the times we do get together, catch up, swap memories and updates.
May we love truly enough to bend with the transitions and changes maintaining a deeper truth... that we cannot help being permanent exhibits in each other's lives.
After a long thrashing night with my feelings (and Minerva waking me up hours before my alarm went off), I was still in bed with my brains achy and worn out when I heard the siren sound. I briefly opened my eyes, considered for a second looking out the window for any troubles, but then I could see in my mind the circle within a few circles symbol on the calendar indicating the test.
Something about this brief acknowledgment with The City's test reminded me of something my Russian father said to me... look out, because this is a bit of a stretch...
He said that in most relationships, there will be times when the exchange rate is not 50/50 percent on both sides. Sometimes it's 60/40... other times 70/30... he's even seen days of 90/10. He said things can't always go on this way, but it happens, and part of loving people is approaching these moments with that understanding.
Perhaps these moments represent the tests of our relationships, our friendships. We can easily consider what causes these moments: A move to another state, a new career, a new family, weddings, funerals, school, hard emotional times, etc. These things and certainly more place obstacles in all our paths. We have to spend our time differently. We spend our energy differently. Most of us need to conserve our energies to focus on these tasks and to avoid other stresses such as losing the new job, a deal on a living space falling through, feeling like a bad parent, the wedding being called off, our feelings bottling up after the death of a loved one, failing our classes, etc. There are many obvious reasons to concentrate on the task at hand.
But where does that leave your friends, your family, your boyfriend/girlfriend or spouse?
I guess that's where we learn how much we love each other or how much we need to let go. As my Russian father said, it's can't always be 70/30 or 90/10. Things need to level back out to at least 60/40. No one can always be the giver... and I suspect it's difficult for self-aware, thinking people to always be the taker. There surely are also moments when neither party can do either. That's when you evaluate what matters to you about having this person in your world. What sort of love and patience do you have to offer or need in return?
After all, once we're settled into the new house, it will be easier to visit or invite people to come and stay... the new career will become more routine, eventually demanding a little less or a different type of your energy... the kids will grow up and take better care of themselves... things after the wedding will calm down... time will heal the sorrows of losing your relative, pet, friend... school lets out in summer and then there's always graduation around the corner. Things don't tend to stay this way forever.
So, can you stand it? Can you step back and allow your loved ones to go through whatever they need to as life moves on? Can you accept being placed on the back burner of their lives for a while knowing that this doesn't change the love... just the locale or way it's maintained?
I'll admit it... I struggle with this. My abandonment complex kicks in full throttle and wonders if I'm just not important anymore... if I'm only wanted when I'm needed... if I will easily be forgotten. I'm not always trusting of the idea that years can pass between two true friends or real lovers and not change the significance or joy of that relationship. I never factored in the idea that a spouse might need time separate from his or her partner to work through emotional blockages or new career paths.
But, have I not done the same things? It's hard to remember now, but in college, surely I let things change in my friendships... I don't remember it this way though. I was so busy... if I wasn't studying or trying to squeeze in dinner between reading assignments or killing myself at work, then I was with my family, my friends. I felt like life was full, but perhaps these people noticed a change from the amount of time I offered before college to the busy first few semesters. Since I was so pre-occupied, I noticed no change in my feelings and certainly had trouble keeping store of how my time was spent... I was getting by, doing the best I could.
So, here I am at a time when many people I know and love are transitioning. My brothers are working and probably soon to fly the coop. Tristan is moving today... and he and I were never great with distance before (when he went to UVA). Some friends are back in school. My family is back in school (most of them are teachers). Some of my friends are starting new families with babies or taking in new household members out of bad situations. I, too, work more frequently and I'm taking a very time-consuming, writing-intensive course at the college. I have many projects I need to start and decisions to make about next year. We're all so very busy...
...but, this is a test... this is only a test...
Admittedly, times like these can sometimes lead to a crossroad where one party needs to venture down a path that the other could never dream of following. I doubt that changes much of the acutal feelings between those people who just cannot relate to one another's choices any longer. More often than not, however, I think we can see that times of more intense struggle just need space to pass. We're not always going to be too busy for one another. If anything, more precious and treasured will be the times we do get together, catch up, swap memories and updates.
May we love truly enough to bend with the transitions and changes maintaining a deeper truth... that we cannot help being permanent exhibits in each other's lives.
Tuesday, September 8, 2009
Tuesday: Birthdays and Goodbyes
Another Tuesday containing significant people and happenings.
I had lunch with Anya. Today is her birthday... behold the power of the 27 year old mother of two! A courageous woman who moves with grace, gratitude, and the sense of independence from everything. A loving mother, a wonderful friend, a person who will inevitably give something great back to the world.
I also had dinner with my half-sister... one of the best times we've shared since we were young girls. We talked about things we could both relate to rather than clashing quietly against our differences. She's moving in two weeks back to her husband's family's country in Missouri. May the space and silence do her and her family good.
And then I ended my evening with my oldest friend... Tristan is moving to Kentucky to work at a firm in Louisville. May he do well, enjoy his new chapter, and may we stay in touch.
I'm beat. So many feelings.
I had lunch with Anya. Today is her birthday... behold the power of the 27 year old mother of two! A courageous woman who moves with grace, gratitude, and the sense of independence from everything. A loving mother, a wonderful friend, a person who will inevitably give something great back to the world.
I also had dinner with my half-sister... one of the best times we've shared since we were young girls. We talked about things we could both relate to rather than clashing quietly against our differences. She's moving in two weeks back to her husband's family's country in Missouri. May the space and silence do her and her family good.
And then I ended my evening with my oldest friend... Tristan is moving to Kentucky to work at a firm in Louisville. May he do well, enjoy his new chapter, and may we stay in touch.
I'm beat. So many feelings.
Monday, September 7, 2009
Monday Review: How do you travel?
I would suppose that there are three basic ways people like to visit other places:
1. Find a hotel
2. Find a Bed and Breakfast
3. Stay with someone you know (I've heard a story here and there of people who don't go anywhere unless they can cut costs by staying with friends and family.)
That being said, I have decided that I definitely fall into the B&B category.
I like that the operation is small. The few places I've stayed, though the options vary greatly, have under ten rooms. I like this idea that, even if the place is full, I'm not completely surrounded by strangers. You also have a chance to actually meet the people who will be walking in and out of your room when you leave for the day. I've always been a little freaked out by having to leave my belongings in a hotel room not knowing what sort of people are going to come rifle through my things while "cleaning" my room. At the B&B in Woolwine, it appears that the same girl comes through to help the Inn Keepers with the cleaning... not just a number, a person trying to get by...
I much prefer the home-away-from-home feeling to the sterilized AC frozen smell of hotel rooms. I like feeling freer to wander. The last two places in which I've stayed had a number of other little rooms and tucked away places where one can read, write, watch a movie, etc. The Tree Streets Inn has a modest library and a beautiful chess set that is always out for guests. In Woolwine, there was a sitting room in which to sip the afternoon sherry or you can rock on the front porch or the second floor porch while watching the hummingbirds at their feeders or listening to the brook.
There are, of course, plenty of hotels with options attached like shopping, casinos, game rooms, pool halls, etc. It just also means there will be a lot of people with which to compete for time in these places. Obviously, if you want to shop for clothes or gamble at a conveniently in-hotel location, the B&B is not for you.
I've decided I need to consider breakfast more carefully. While visiting Woolwine, having the option to have breakfast brought to me so I could have a private morning was really very appealing. You don't have to clean up perfectly early in the morning to look presentable to others. I had the option to simply roll out of bed, brush my teeth, comb my hair, wrap a robe around me, and I was ready. At the Tree Streets Inn, there is a formal dining room in which all the house's guests eat together. They had a long table where we all sat and chose to either make small talk with one another or discreetly have our private conversations with our companions. In Woolwine, they have a dining area, too, but they also have little separate tables so that the decision to talk amongst those you know seems less... snobbish.
The Inn Keepers do tend to come out during breakfast and talk to the people. In a B&B at which I stayed several years ago in DC, they actually take their breakfast at the same table and basically lead a conversation about their guests, where everyone's from, the history of the house, etc. You history buffs... or those of you who actually like meeting people... the dining room option should work just fine for you.
But, even in those places where there's a long table for everyone, you tend to have negotiable options. At Tree Streets, a vegan athlete had come to stay and needed not only his dietary requirements met but also had to get up very early the next morning (long before the assigned breakfast time for other guests). So, the Inn Keepers chose to accommodate him by rising terrifyingly early to prepare his special meal. At Woolwine, though they give you the option of staying in your room to avoid rising with the rooster, they will also make To-Go breakfasts for their guests staying overnight on business.
Another perk, and this might be surprising, is that, once in a while, one can find a B&B, with all its cozy amenities, for less money than even a modest hotel. This past weekend for our family reunion, one of the ways in which I was able to convince Mom that we should stay at a B&B rather than a boring hotel was the price. It was about $80 less to stay at The Tree Streets Inn than at the Holiday Express. While some of our relatives paid more to pile several people into one or two rooms, we had a nice private room, private bath, midnight snacks available next to our room, a garden, a pool, a great big breakfast... yeah. I don't think I'll ever willingly go back to lazily booking the hotel nearest my ultimate destination.
There's a catalog into which the Inn Keepers of Virginia sunk a lot of money... and, according to one of them, didn't get as much as they wanted out of it. There's a way that this owner felt the catalog should be organized. The pages are lined with pictures and descriptions of each B&B in alphabetical order by city. Apparently, it used to be organized by region.
I have no complaints, but I'm from Virginia, so, I have an approximate idea of where most of these cities are located. For the places with which I am less familiar, there's a useful map in the middle of the catalog. You can find the online version here: B&B Association of Virginia
What's fun about the website is you can pick a region on the map, then a town, and a list of all the B&B locations and descriptions pop up for you. It also offers you the link to each B&B's website and a list of things they provide for you (Just like Expedia and Travelocity). For example, you can find a B&B that's pet friendly, one with a hot tub, etc. I don't know if every state has something similar, but, for kicks, I found one here for the state of Michigan: Lake to Lake
Now, don't get me wrong-- there's a place for Samantha Brown and her discoveries across the globe (If you haven't, watch her show or go to her website: I Love Samantha Brown). There's a state or two I wouldn't dream of visiting had it not been for what Samantha Brown has taught me (There's this place I'm hoping to visit someday in Arizona, for example...). But, for the regular amount of traveling I will have to do to visit family, friends, or to work, I think I'll look for the quaint, home-away-from-home option first.
So... how do you travel?
1. Find a hotel
- The cheapest one (You're only going to sleep there anyway)
- The fanciest one (While we're spending money, let's get pampered!)
- The novelty choice (Something themed that made you drool while watching Samantha Brown's show on the Travel Channel... I want her job so badly...)
2. Find a Bed and Breakfast
- The one with the best view (You are here to relax away from home and enjoy the quiet.)
- The one with the best breakfast (Some serve just a Continental buffet while others have grand productions in their formal dining of delectable options.)
- The one with the most historical value (So many of these old houses are perfect for history enthusiasts.)
3. Stay with someone you know (I've heard a story here and there of people who don't go anywhere unless they can cut costs by staying with friends and family.)
That being said, I have decided that I definitely fall into the B&B category.
I like that the operation is small. The few places I've stayed, though the options vary greatly, have under ten rooms. I like this idea that, even if the place is full, I'm not completely surrounded by strangers. You also have a chance to actually meet the people who will be walking in and out of your room when you leave for the day. I've always been a little freaked out by having to leave my belongings in a hotel room not knowing what sort of people are going to come rifle through my things while "cleaning" my room. At the B&B in Woolwine, it appears that the same girl comes through to help the Inn Keepers with the cleaning... not just a number, a person trying to get by...
I much prefer the home-away-from-home feeling to the sterilized AC frozen smell of hotel rooms. I like feeling freer to wander. The last two places in which I've stayed had a number of other little rooms and tucked away places where one can read, write, watch a movie, etc. The Tree Streets Inn has a modest library and a beautiful chess set that is always out for guests. In Woolwine, there was a sitting room in which to sip the afternoon sherry or you can rock on the front porch or the second floor porch while watching the hummingbirds at their feeders or listening to the brook.
There are, of course, plenty of hotels with options attached like shopping, casinos, game rooms, pool halls, etc. It just also means there will be a lot of people with which to compete for time in these places. Obviously, if you want to shop for clothes or gamble at a conveniently in-hotel location, the B&B is not for you.
I've decided I need to consider breakfast more carefully. While visiting Woolwine, having the option to have breakfast brought to me so I could have a private morning was really very appealing. You don't have to clean up perfectly early in the morning to look presentable to others. I had the option to simply roll out of bed, brush my teeth, comb my hair, wrap a robe around me, and I was ready. At the Tree Streets Inn, there is a formal dining room in which all the house's guests eat together. They had a long table where we all sat and chose to either make small talk with one another or discreetly have our private conversations with our companions. In Woolwine, they have a dining area, too, but they also have little separate tables so that the decision to talk amongst those you know seems less... snobbish.
The Inn Keepers do tend to come out during breakfast and talk to the people. In a B&B at which I stayed several years ago in DC, they actually take their breakfast at the same table and basically lead a conversation about their guests, where everyone's from, the history of the house, etc. You history buffs... or those of you who actually like meeting people... the dining room option should work just fine for you.
But, even in those places where there's a long table for everyone, you tend to have negotiable options. At Tree Streets, a vegan athlete had come to stay and needed not only his dietary requirements met but also had to get up very early the next morning (long before the assigned breakfast time for other guests). So, the Inn Keepers chose to accommodate him by rising terrifyingly early to prepare his special meal. At Woolwine, though they give you the option of staying in your room to avoid rising with the rooster, they will also make To-Go breakfasts for their guests staying overnight on business.
Another perk, and this might be surprising, is that, once in a while, one can find a B&B, with all its cozy amenities, for less money than even a modest hotel. This past weekend for our family reunion, one of the ways in which I was able to convince Mom that we should stay at a B&B rather than a boring hotel was the price. It was about $80 less to stay at The Tree Streets Inn than at the Holiday Express. While some of our relatives paid more to pile several people into one or two rooms, we had a nice private room, private bath, midnight snacks available next to our room, a garden, a pool, a great big breakfast... yeah. I don't think I'll ever willingly go back to lazily booking the hotel nearest my ultimate destination.
There's a catalog into which the Inn Keepers of Virginia sunk a lot of money... and, according to one of them, didn't get as much as they wanted out of it. There's a way that this owner felt the catalog should be organized. The pages are lined with pictures and descriptions of each B&B in alphabetical order by city. Apparently, it used to be organized by region.
I have no complaints, but I'm from Virginia, so, I have an approximate idea of where most of these cities are located. For the places with which I am less familiar, there's a useful map in the middle of the catalog. You can find the online version here: B&B Association of Virginia
What's fun about the website is you can pick a region on the map, then a town, and a list of all the B&B locations and descriptions pop up for you. It also offers you the link to each B&B's website and a list of things they provide for you (Just like Expedia and Travelocity). For example, you can find a B&B that's pet friendly, one with a hot tub, etc. I don't know if every state has something similar, but, for kicks, I found one here for the state of Michigan: Lake to Lake
Now, don't get me wrong-- there's a place for Samantha Brown and her discoveries across the globe (If you haven't, watch her show or go to her website: I Love Samantha Brown). There's a state or two I wouldn't dream of visiting had it not been for what Samantha Brown has taught me (There's this place I'm hoping to visit someday in Arizona, for example...). But, for the regular amount of traveling I will have to do to visit family, friends, or to work, I think I'll look for the quaint, home-away-from-home option first.
So... how do you travel?
Sunday, September 6, 2009
Sunday Reflections: The Cows of Jupiter
I have just realized what an insane week I've had... at least starting with Wednesday.
I had a staff meeting at 2 for work and stayed until 9:45 that night to teach three classes in a row. Then Thursday I had brunch with a good friend who will soon be moving. Immediately afterwards, I taught two classes in a row and then hauled after the second class to catch as much of the ballgame with my cousins as possible (out very late). The next day I prepared for my pen pal to come and stay with me and cooked a large dinner for her as my honorary guest among my closest friends. After tidying up and packing until 2:45AM, I got up to watch a movie with my guest before we went to the Farmers' Market with Caro. After lunch and goodbyes, I hopped in a car and drove my cousin, my mother, and myself to our annual family reunion in Waynesboro. We went to our B&B first, arrived at Uncle Philip's, caught up, had dinner, went out for a drink, made cocoa and tea at the Inn, and finally, I tried reading my homework until about 1AM. We rose at 8:10, rushed down to breakfast, I felt a little funny so I rested while Mom showered, cleaned up, attempted to check out at 11, attempted (and really failed) to make a quick stop at my great uncle's, went to two abnormally crowded wineries with my mom, aunt, and cousin, and finally started the drive home at 4ish. I just figured out, at this very moment, that after arriving at Anya and Jeff's birthday dinner looking seasick, that perhaps I should never attempt reading while riding in a moving vehicle ever again (at least not for an hour and a half).
There's a reason I never knew this before... After this experience, I never attempted to really do serious reading in a car before today. I will tell this story, and then I will take my swimming brains to bed...
9th grade. Elements of the Arts class. Scheduled field trip to the Chrysler Museum in Norfolk.
There was so much riding on this field trip. I was as excited as I was terrified. I am pretty sure I got into an argument with my mother as we agonized for hours in the mall about what I was going to wear (I eventually picked out a brown dress suit with matching shoes... not sure who I was trying to be...)
I was desperately in love with my teacher... in the most awkward way possible. I deeply wanted to be adopted by this man. He had his nose in my business, an opinion about every little thing I did, gave threatening looks to inappropriate males accompanying me in the hallways, lectured me about what I should be doing with my life... so much attention to my details. I was rather unfamiliar with this kind of... let's call it 'care'... and wanted to do everything possible to make this man proud.
I was also looking forward to introducing him to my mother, who I had properly warned about his personality (this is the man I frequently refer to as my Russian father). My mother was a brave, patient soul about all my obsessions. She had elected to be one of the parent chaperones on this trip.
Naturally, we took a great ugly yellow bus to the museum. I made a point to sit near the front where my teacher would probably be seated. My mother joined me in the seat and I'm sure I nervously chatted with her or hopped on my toes making my knees flop up and down the whole ride over.
I don't remember a single thing about the exhibit save two paintings. I remember this enormous canvas illustrating a scene that strikes me now as the foretelling of the birth of Christ, but I could be wrong. I remember the technique being mediocre, but the size was inspiring and we were all awestruck. There was this other painting of a man and woman standing side by side with a candle illuminating the darkness. This canvas was long and thin. They looked tired. It was the one painting my Russian father and I discussed on our own.
When it was time to go, I remember two events that occurred on the bus. My Russian father tried insisting that my stubborn mother eat his sandwich (I don't remember why she hadn't brought a lunch with her). She politely refused and he didn't push (had it been me, he would have come close to shoving the sandwich in my mouth himself). Then I remember he was slouching in the seat reading. I always have a book on me, so I attempted to do the same.
"Miss Kathlyn," he sighed (he would refer to me by this bastardized version of my middle name). "We have a saying in Russia... 'What is okay for Jupiter may not be okay for the cow.' "
I paused... trying to decide how to take that.
"Am I Jupiter or the cow?" I asked with genuine concern.
He smiled as he rolled his eyes. "Put the book away."
While I knew what he meant then... I really know what he meant now.
I'm going to go lay myself horizontal and try to imagine that I'm not still in a moving car...
(from http://amog.com)
I had a staff meeting at 2 for work and stayed until 9:45 that night to teach three classes in a row. Then Thursday I had brunch with a good friend who will soon be moving. Immediately afterwards, I taught two classes in a row and then hauled after the second class to catch as much of the ballgame with my cousins as possible (out very late). The next day I prepared for my pen pal to come and stay with me and cooked a large dinner for her as my honorary guest among my closest friends. After tidying up and packing until 2:45AM, I got up to watch a movie with my guest before we went to the Farmers' Market with Caro. After lunch and goodbyes, I hopped in a car and drove my cousin, my mother, and myself to our annual family reunion in Waynesboro. We went to our B&B first, arrived at Uncle Philip's, caught up, had dinner, went out for a drink, made cocoa and tea at the Inn, and finally, I tried reading my homework until about 1AM. We rose at 8:10, rushed down to breakfast, I felt a little funny so I rested while Mom showered, cleaned up, attempted to check out at 11, attempted (and really failed) to make a quick stop at my great uncle's, went to two abnormally crowded wineries with my mom, aunt, and cousin, and finally started the drive home at 4ish. I just figured out, at this very moment, that after arriving at Anya and Jeff's birthday dinner looking seasick, that perhaps I should never attempt reading while riding in a moving vehicle ever again (at least not for an hour and a half).
There's a reason I never knew this before... After this experience, I never attempted to really do serious reading in a car before today. I will tell this story, and then I will take my swimming brains to bed...
9th grade. Elements of the Arts class. Scheduled field trip to the Chrysler Museum in Norfolk.
There was so much riding on this field trip. I was as excited as I was terrified. I am pretty sure I got into an argument with my mother as we agonized for hours in the mall about what I was going to wear (I eventually picked out a brown dress suit with matching shoes... not sure who I was trying to be...)
I was desperately in love with my teacher... in the most awkward way possible. I deeply wanted to be adopted by this man. He had his nose in my business, an opinion about every little thing I did, gave threatening looks to inappropriate males accompanying me in the hallways, lectured me about what I should be doing with my life... so much attention to my details. I was rather unfamiliar with this kind of... let's call it 'care'... and wanted to do everything possible to make this man proud.
I was also looking forward to introducing him to my mother, who I had properly warned about his personality (this is the man I frequently refer to as my Russian father). My mother was a brave, patient soul about all my obsessions. She had elected to be one of the parent chaperones on this trip.
Naturally, we took a great ugly yellow bus to the museum. I made a point to sit near the front where my teacher would probably be seated. My mother joined me in the seat and I'm sure I nervously chatted with her or hopped on my toes making my knees flop up and down the whole ride over.
I don't remember a single thing about the exhibit save two paintings. I remember this enormous canvas illustrating a scene that strikes me now as the foretelling of the birth of Christ, but I could be wrong. I remember the technique being mediocre, but the size was inspiring and we were all awestruck. There was this other painting of a man and woman standing side by side with a candle illuminating the darkness. This canvas was long and thin. They looked tired. It was the one painting my Russian father and I discussed on our own.
When it was time to go, I remember two events that occurred on the bus. My Russian father tried insisting that my stubborn mother eat his sandwich (I don't remember why she hadn't brought a lunch with her). She politely refused and he didn't push (had it been me, he would have come close to shoving the sandwich in my mouth himself). Then I remember he was slouching in the seat reading. I always have a book on me, so I attempted to do the same.
"Miss Kathlyn," he sighed (he would refer to me by this bastardized version of my middle name). "We have a saying in Russia... 'What is okay for Jupiter may not be okay for the cow.' "
I paused... trying to decide how to take that.
"Am I Jupiter or the cow?" I asked with genuine concern.
He smiled as he rolled his eyes. "Put the book away."
While I knew what he meant then... I really know what he meant now.
I'm going to go lay myself horizontal and try to imagine that I'm not still in a moving car...
(from http://amog.com)
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