Grounded

 

Summer. Summer flies by. Lightening fast. In an instant, days pass by, then weeks. Months too. 

For me, it flies so quickly it is hard to hold on. To stay present. In the moment. Sometimes I don't even recognize the simple moment when it is in front of me. And sometimes I do and when that happens, it becomes a gift that stays with me. 

I don't want to go along for the ride. I want to stop and appreciate the journey. 

I remember taking Sosie for a walk when she was 2 and I was so focused on getting to the playground so she could play. I planned out how long it would take to get there, how long we could spend there to play and then the walk home. The walk was the means to the end. 

Within a block, I realized something. Sosie wasn't thinking about the end. She was enjoying the walk there. Observing everything around her. The leaves, the stones, the sky, the birds, the chipmunks, the thoughts that popped in her mind, hand in hand. That was just as much of an adventure as the playground. I remember adjusting in my mind and actively slowing down. Grounding. 

Lately, I have had a word in my mind. It has been coming into focus, off and on, during odd times. Intention. Intention. Instead of flying, I am striving to move and live with intention. To ground myself in a way that forces me to be in the moment. Breathe.

For me, it is getting back to basics. Going to a farm to pick flowers. Going to a farmer's market and buying locally grown, in season fruits and vegetables. This is the season when you can taste a difference between a cucumber bought from a farm and one bought at the grocery store. The difference between a freshly picked tomato off the vine and sweet corn on the cob, just cooked enough. The smell of herbs that you cut that only enhance the flavors of the food picked from the earth. Find that market. Find the space. Find the beauty around you. In that moment. Grounding. Intentional. 

Book to Read: Lessons in Chemistry, Bonnie Garmus

Song to Listen to: Next to Me, Rufus du Sol

LET'S COOK!!!  There is a website and Instagram page called, Cook the Vineyard, which is a section in the Martha's Vineyard Magazine. I saw their post and it inspired me to write. I can't wait to make this recipe. 

Cook the Vineyard

Summer in a bowl. Click here for the recipe. 

Choose kindness. Every gesture counts. Peace and love always. 

I'm so tired.

 

I am tired.

I am really tired.

I am having a difficult time getting myself out of this deep feeling of hopelessness and dread about the way we are treating each other in this world. I am having a difficult time moving towards solutions. Towards resources. Towards fighting back. 

Politics over humanity. 

Toxicity over authenticity. 

Negativity over positivity. 

Transactional interactions over kindness.

I am tired. 

I am sure you are all tired of my voice, my posts, of me, too. I am sure I should just shut up, not share me, not share my thoughts, my feelings, my soul. Who listens anyway? Some don't understand why I do this and most don't read, but it is me. I am me. 

I wish that we lived in a country, a world, that treated everyone equally, fairly, with love, with respect, as friends, without constant judgment. I am so sad when people feel "less than". We all have felt this way. It is a shitty feeling. It is a huge burden to carry. It is time to lift the burden off each other. It is time for change. 

I wish we lived in a country that acknowledges, celebrates and respects differences. I wish we lived in a country where an open mind is the norm instead of the exception. 

I wish we lived in a country where it would be harder for someone to purchase an automatic weapon than for a woman to end a pregnancy safely in any state. It is time for change. 

I wish we lived in a country where two of the nine Justices on our Supreme Court were not accused of sexual misconduct and yet are in the position to make life-altering decisions for women.

I wish that the system built for heterosexual white men would grow and change as the world has grown and changed. We, as individuals, grow. With time. All of our lives. We carry. Shouldn't the system change too? Life is hard. For every single one of us. 

By stating this, I am not saying that heterosexual white men don't matter. I am not saying that life isn't hard for them. Life is hard for everyone.  I am simply saying that if you put everyone at the back of the room in a line and a dollar bill at the front of the room, the heterosexual white man will get that dollar bill first. Every. Single. Time. Isn't it our responsibility as people of the world to do what we can to make it a better country for everyone? The world is complex and we are all figuring it out as we go but don't we want to learn lessons from the past? 

We all matter. We all matter. We all matter. 

Every day I pass a homeless woman who lives in a bus stop near my house. I think about her every single day. I have brought her flowers. I make sure she has water. She is human. She has feelings. She never leaves that spot. She matters. 

It is time.

It is time for change. 

Song to Play: 99 Red Balloons, version by Goldfinger

Recipe to Cook: Lemon Linguine. One of my very favorite summer recipes. 

Film to Watch: Who We Are: A Chronicle of Racism in America, Netflix

Choose kindness. Every gesture counts. Peace and love always. 

Being brutally honest and scared out of my mind to do so

 

I am going through a bit of an identity crisis.

Who am I? 

Here I am, middle of my life and I am about to have an empty nest. For as long as I can remember I have been on a trajectory. Go to high school, get into college, get a job, get married, have kids, raise kids, get kids into college. I am a mom. They are my everything. And it is time. Time for them to begin their own lives. Be on their own. Home will always be here but it is different. The focus is different. It has to be different. For all of us. 

What does that mean?

It means everything.

And it scares the shit out of me. 

So I am going to pause. 

I am going to recognize how I am feeling. I am not going to feel badly for feeling this way. I am going to acknowledge it and I am going to allow myself to feel all of the emotions that go along with it. I am going to do my best not to let fear define me. I am going to try to let myself define me. 

So, while I may feel a little lost and while I am experiencing some growing pains, at my core, I am still me. At my spine, I am still me. At my heart, I am still me. I am just trying to peel back some layers to discover exactly who that is. And then, when I find even a piece of who that is, I am going to strive to find deep love and compassion for that soul. 

Song to Listen to: 

Lovin' Me by Kid Cudi (feat. Phoebe Bridgers)

Yo-ohh-ohh

Yo-ohh-ohh

Mmm

Ohh

Please, Lord, hear me now, hope you're listening
It's been centuries, least what it seems to me
I've been on this road, my eyes glistenin'
As I stare at Scott, I know he's all I got
Our past don't matter, babe, I'm much stronger
And fly much farther, soar overseas
Finally see, I'll keep on climbing
Ridin' the lightning and I am sure

At times I really didn't show
What was wrong with me, wrong with me
I told myself I cannot grow
Without lovin' me, lovin' me
But this is just the hell that lives inside, hmm
Tell me now, where to? Please be my guide

I've been goin', goin' in circles
Reoccurring dreams, talkin' in my sleep
Then I'm floatin' up to the surface
I can finally breathe, I could do anything
And I don't know why it's alright
And it's not at the same time
Then I look up at a blue sky
And I know

At times I really didn't show
What was wrong with me, wrong with me
I tell myself I cannot grow
Without lovin' me, lovin' me
This is just the hell that lives inside, hmm
Tell me now, where to? Please be my guide

Yo-ohh (ah-ah)
Yo-ohh (la-la-la, la-la-la, la-la-la, hmm)
Yo-ohh (ah, ah, ah-ah)
Mmm (mmm)

Meal to Cook: 

Poolside Sesame Slaw, Smitten Kitchen (Click here for link)

This was a perfect meal. Perfect for a nice summer day. 

Choose kindness. Every gesture counts. Peace and love always. 

Mother's Day

 

Today is Mother's Day. May 8, 2022. A day to celebrate moms of all kinds and mother figures everywhere. It may be a Hallmark holiday but it is still a day worthy of celebration. To celebrate women. All women really.

Today I think about my family. 

I think about my great-grandmother who went to college in Armenia. My great-grandmother who was supposed to study medicine in the United States but followed love instead. My great-grandmother who walked out her front door and threw her keys in the bushes only to walk hundreds of miles, hearing cannons, with her husband, baby and young daughter.  A family literally fleeing for their lives in the middle of a genocide. My great-grandfather who was listed to be killed because he was a professor and a band leader. An intellectual. A great-grandmother who had to bury her baby weeks later in Russia before taking a passenger ship from Georgia to the United States to start over. But alive and as a family.  

I think about my grandmother who came to the United States and did not know one word of English when she started Kindergarten. I think about my grandmother who went to college and sat on stage with a dozen other female graduates from Cooper Union. I think about my grandmother who was a gifted artist. I think about my grandmother walking in New York City with her portfolio in the 1930s looking for a job as a commercial artist. And, getting one. I think about my grandmother who was the breadwinner in the family until she stopped work to start her family. I think about my grandmother who loved her family fiercely until the day she died. Everything she did was for her family. My anoush-pan.

I think about my mom who grew up with a scientist and an artist as parents and with the weight of Armenian history. I think about my mom who went to college in Pennsylvania, married my father and started her own family. I think about my mom who taught her children that family is the most important thing in the world. Above everything else. I think about my mom who taught me that kindness will always prevail and what being truly selfless and truly good looks like. I think about my mom who taught by example that it is better to give than to receive. My mom who taught me more lessons than I can ever express with words and who makes the world a better place just by being here. My mom who does not know how special she is and in the end, all she really wants is to be surrounded by loved ones.

Always. 

Always.

Each family has a story. Each story is valuable. Each and every one.

Choose kindness. Every gesture counts. Peace and love always. 

Me

I stare. I stare at a blank page. A clean slate. A new day. Music plays. Candle is lit. Coffee is in my mug. A mug that says Breathe. It is a mug that is not shaped like a typical mug. It is a reminder. A reminder that differences make us unique and yet we are all more similar than we realize sometimes. A reminder of my friend, Kim, who gave it to me. A reminder of my favorite store in Massachusetts. A reminder of how inspired I was whenever I walked into it, seeing the art around me. 

Yesterday I was reminded of something. Every single act of thoughtfulness and kindness matters. One gesture. It says so much. More than the person who offers the gesture even realizes and that fact makes it even more special I think.

My youngest daughter, Sage, is about to graduate high school. She goes to a small school. Tiny really. And smaller than it was when we arrived. But....it is special. I appreciate it even more so now that our time there is coming to a close. 

Lately, my senses are heightened, my emotions are running a little higher, I am in my head. I'm thinking more. And feeling more. And when a group of people extended themselves for the soccer team, it went straight to my heart. It warmed even the edges that are a bit frayed at times. It made me remember that one moment can affect us. It made me realize that we all have the power to change a moment. To change someone or a group. It is a lesson in humanity. In how kindness matters...always. 

Song to listen to: Record Player by Daisy the Great and AJR
Book to read: Devil in the White City by Erik Larson
Show to watch:  The Staircase on HBO Max
Recipe to make: Tuna with Capers, Olives and Lemon

Easy recipe, tasty and perfect for a hot spring or summer evening. 

Choose kindness. Every gesture counts. Peace and love always. 

Feelings

I have always loved writing.  I remember writing poetry at an early age.  I remember writing about my uncle who was killed in a car accident. I remember writing about the sea. Then, older, I remember two papers I wrote in college (race relations at Colgate using Homer's Odyssey was one and the other comparing the movie Fatal Attraction to Jane Eyre) that I absolutely loved writing at the time. Do I specifically remember because I received good grades or because I had really thought about and believed in what I put down on paper? 

Maybe it was because I found a voice that no one could tell me was wrong. I could express myself unabashedly. I didn't write expecting many people to read what I had written. In fact until the internet I don't think I cared if anyone read it. I am embarrassed to admit but I know I care if anyone reads these words. Why though? Why should I care? Validation for my voice? Why do I need validation for me just being me? 

For those who know me, I am an extrovert. I express. I am someone who lives by connection and I basically seek it in every aspect of my life. I reach out to all sorts of people in many different ways. Sometimes I reach out knowing I’ll be rejected. I reach out to people that are like me and unlike me. I also believe in the underdog. I believe in making sure no one ever feels alone. I believe in connecting people. I believe in kindness always. I am very hard on myself. I feel. I feel deeply. Too deeply especially without an appropriate outlet to express myself. Writing then becomes cathartic. It opens my mind and brings a form of clarity.

I am more expressive in words than when I am when interacting or being with those I love sometimes, maybe more than sometimes actually. Is that fear? I keep up some version of a wall, which may be surprising for some, but then why is it easy for me to write it down. Especially in such an open way. Is it a cover? I go back to what I wrote before. I can write without seeing a reaction. I can be vulnerable without being vulnerable - it is safer. I can write and then pretend I didn't because that isn't public facing. No one can tell me my feelings are wrong but don't I need the interaction and the challenge to grow?  

In some ways, there is similarity to what acting might be like. When you are acting, you can be open and vulnerable by being the vehicle for the vision of the director and producers but it isn't really showing who I am deep inside, not really anyway. Assumptions are made about the actor based on their roles or interviews. Assumptions can also be made by what I write especially because it is inherently personal but my writing is about a singular moment in time. In both acting and writing then, it is a form of expression, whilst keeping a part of myself safe or guarded. I long to feel comfortable taking the risk in all aspects of my life. Feeling confident that if I fall yet again, I can and will pick myself up as a stronger more fulfilled person. Letting myself go. Just to be. Truly be. 

I have always thought that I could have done something more expressive artistically in my life. I have always, always dreamed about it and I could almost touch it at various points. Is that ridiculous? Is that stupid?  Is it cliché? 

Yes. Yes, it is in some ways. 

But does it make it wrong? 

What brought me to sit down this morning? Why did I feel the need to write? I mean I just wrote a blog post.  I think yesterday I touched the surface and there was still so much more to process than I realized.

I am feeling emotional. I am feeling vulnerable. It is scary but it make me human and it makes me feel alive. My world is on the cusp of changing yet again. I am about to watch my daughter play in her last home soccer game. She is injured but fighting strong. So many emotions flow through me. It isn't her last soccer game but it is the last one I will witness in her home stadium. The world that I have known and been comfortable living for so long is shifting. The ground is shaky and therefore my core is unstable. Change is coming. And, I can write about change but facing it inside and out, individually and head on, that is the moment. Will I watch the change or be the change? What do you think?

So, this is my playlist. I don't know if you'll be able to access it but I am giving it a try. 

Repeat Playlist

In the event it doesn't, play Homecoming by Ye, with Chris Martin. All drama aside, listen or read these lyrics. They are masterful. 

Choose kindness. Every gesture counts. Peace and love always. 

Amy

Question.

 

What do you feel when you look at this photograph? Does it remind you of anything in your life? Does your mind go somewhere, anywhere? To a memory or to someplace you'd like to go? The varying texture, the lighting. Are you pleasantly surprised when you see the sea in the background? 

What about this one? The details of the delicate petals set against the concrete. The colors of the Shirley poppy. What do you see? Does looking, really looking at this invoke any emotion? Does it make you dream? Do you imagine the setting around the stems? Do you allow your mind and heart to wander there?

What happens when you listen to music? Is it background noise? Does it speak to your core? Either, neither, both? Do you have songs of the moment that you listen to on repeat, or do you need to listen to different songs all day long. 

Searching. Seeking. Finding space. To be. To feel. To experience. To be vulnerable and to be okay in that vulnerability. To be present. To mark a moment and everything that is happening around you in that one singular moment. 

There are hopefully several times in a day when you feel something. A simple moment. It can be making a mistake and feeling shame. It can be when you see a tender interaction between people which instills a lightness. It can be looking into a dog's eyes and finding the unconditional love you needed to find there. Don't get me wrong. Feeling can be difficult. Feeling can be challenging. Especially if the emotion makes you feel badly. In the end though, it is so much better to feel something than to feel nothing at all. Giving yourself permission to feel it all is the best gift of all. 

Song to Play: What They'll Say About Us by Finneas

Book to Read: Hitchhiking with Larry David by Paul Samuel Dolman

Recipe to Cook: Put on your favorite song and let's get cooking. 

Asian Chicken and Cabbage Salad - Bon Appetit, 2013

1 jalapeño pepper with a few seeds, chopped (I omit or use milder pepper)
1/3 cup canola oil
1/4 cup fresh lime juice (always fresh squeezed)
2T reduced sodium soy sauce
2 tsp. light brown sugar
1 tsp. fish sauce (such as nam pla or nuoc nam)
1 tsp. peeled, grated ginger
Kosher salt
1/2 head red cabbage, thinly sliced, about 5 cups
3/4 cup shredded carrots (for last two I buy bagged cabbage, broccoli slaw, carrots-much faster)
4 scallions, white and green parts only, thinly sliced
3 cups shredded roasted chicken breast (or brined and grilled or rotisserie for a super fast meal)
1 cup baby spinach, thinly sliced
1/3 cup chopped fresh cilantro
1/4 cup chopped dry roasted peanuts (omit or substitute per allergy)
1 tsp. toasted sesame seeds

Whisk chili, oil, lime juice, soy sauce, brown sugar, fish sauce and ginger; season with salt if necessary. Can be made ahead.

In a large bowl, combine cabbage, carrots, spinach, scallions and cilantro; toss to combine. Can be made ahead, covered and refrigerated.

Pour dressing over salad and toss; add chicken and toss to coat. Top with peanuts and sesame seeds.

Serves 4.

Choose kindness. Every gesture counts. Peace and love always. 

Do you Wordle?

 

Do you Wordle? 

I do.

You know what I love about it? 

The simplicity. 

There is no need for an app. It is not social media. Anyone with an internet connection can access it. It has a Goldilocks amount of challenge and I feel like I have accomplished something when I complete each puzzle. It is something I can do every day, and it doesn't take more than a few minutes. An easy habit.

I love that I can talk about it with people of all ages without actually talking about it. It is something people can share but no one discloses the answer. There is no drama to it. There are no "sides". It is just wordle. How novel!

You see, I long to just be. 

Just be. 

It is my biggest challenge lately. To sit quietly within myself. To take the space to appreciate, understand and live in the moment. Life in my head is moving at warp speed and I want to slow it down but I don't know how. I look in the mirror and think about how much time has passed. How can I be my age but feel like I am still 20 years younger? There is so much more I want to do. Those life-long dreams. Are they still attainable? Do I have the courage to take the risk to chase a dream and will that fulfill me? 

As I continue to race, I look for things that force me to sit still but also to be still in my mind. Focus. Recently I was on vacation in Cabo. Senior mother / daughter trip with friends. The moms were on a hike with a man who runs a shelter/day care for dogs. He takes groups up this hill every morning - it provides exercise for the dogs and the people learn a bit along the way. Ok when I say hill I really mean, mountain! We were like scaling the side of it!!!  There were a lot of people on this particular trek, maybe 30 and I am guessing maybe 10 dogs, maybe more? I wasn't able to fully appreciate the view from where we were but it was really beautiful. It was a great deal more challenging than I realized it would be and I found myself racing up and racing down. 

On the way down, I found myself slipping a few times and then I definitively fell..... into a cactus. 

Yes. A cactus. 

Aside from the pain and thorns, there is definitely humor there (well maybe the humor came after the fact, after some champagne). There is also a lesson. I was rushing through the moment. Not taking care to recognize where I was. I wasn't appreciating the journey. I wanted the destination. And if I hadn't fallen, I am not sure I would have recognized that lesson. Life is a balance, isn't it?

Song to Listen To: That's Where I Am by Maggie Rogers (loving this song)

Book to Read:  The Language of Flowers by Vanessa Diffenbaugh (one of my favorites)

Recipe to Make: We visited Flora Farms in Cabo. We went there for a cooking lesson and then stayed and had lunch. It was my second time visiting this dream of a place. The lighting, the vegetables, the teachers, the setting. It is so magical for me. I get giddy just thinking about it. 

Tonight, as I sip a glass of wine,  I am remembering the margaritas we had when we arrived at the farm. I thought I would provide the recipe here. I am not a huge sweet cocktail person so these really hit the spot. Enjoy!

Choose kindness. Every gesture counts. Peace and love always. 

Loss

 

I usually call my mom when I am driving or walking. In other words, I always think about her when I am moving. She will pop into my mind and I immediately reach out. I am unusually close with my mom. We talk often and I think of her more than often. I feel very grateful for my family because through it all, we always have each other. No matter what. Unconditional love in its purest form.

My dad has an atypical, hybrid form of frontal lobe dementia and Alzheimer's. He is 82 years old.

I think of him sitting in the front row with my mom at literally every single performance. 

I think of him in his suede jacket on the sidelines cheering loudly, but always positively, at every single field hockey game. 

I think about him driving his 1965 White Mustang and parking it at the school where he worked and where I went to school. 

I think about visiting my parents in Bethlehem with a newborn. It was my first night in town after my first solo road trip with my daughter. Dad very quietly came into my room and whispered for me to go to sleep while I was trying to get her down. He sat with her, rubbed her back and played her musical giraffe... for a very long time. The amount of times he wound that giraffe playing Imagine by John Lennon seemed countless. 

I think about my extended family sitting in my grandparents' living room for hours on end. On the coffee table were always bowls of candy and snacks. Every once in awhile my dad's sweet tooth would kick in. Very quietly he would take a chocolate, unwrap it and pop it in his mouth. Then, he would reach over and grab another. And another. We would start to notice and glance at each other, grins forming, knowing what we were watching. Before you knew it, there was a pile of wrappers beside my dad. 

I think about going through a rough time emotionally and saying that I didn't want them to end their visit to Massachusetts. I really didn't want them to leave - I couldn't do this without them. Dad hugged me and immediately planned for mom to stay. He drove the 5 hours home, worked the week and came back the following weekend. Mom took off the week of work so that I could have the extra support. Family.

I think about standing in my kitchen. Dad was well into his disease at this point. Again I was having a rough time emotionally and I went to hug him goodbye after their visit. Dad had this moment of clarity. It was an extended moment - he hugged me and said I love you in my ear. He really looked at me in my eyes. He saw me. Everyone in the room also recognized the moment. We all stopped and soaked it in. Then it was gone. But I am so grateful to have experienced that simple, clear moment. 

I was on the phone last night with my mom. Dad is declining now. He hasn't recognized me for awhile. Sometimes it seems like he is there but can't vocalize his thoughts. Sometimes he isn't there at all-lost somewhere. Sometimes you can see his joy in the moment. Mom visited Dad yesterday and she showed him a picture of me on her phone. He took the phone, looked at the picture and brought the phone to his mouth to kiss it. I don't know what he was thinking or if he was thinking anything at all but knowing that happened made me feel something. I have been mourning my dad for years and yet have tried to appreciate who he is now. I miss him as he was but I miss him as he is now too. My dad. 

So, take in today. Use all of your senses to see the beauty and the tragedy of life. See vivid colors, feel the emotions life hands you and soak it all in. All of it. 

Book to Read: This Golden State by Marit Weisenberg. Marit is a dear friend and a very talented writer. We bonded hard when we celebrated Linda's birthday in Cabo. The pictures in the post are from that amazing and memorable trip. This book is a MUST READ. And you might just see it adapted in the theatre one day. Read it - you'll finish it in a day. 

Song to Play: Bang Bang by Hippo Campus

Recipe to Make:  Italian Wedding Soup, Barefoot Contessa. One of my all time favorite soups. Made a huge batch and having for lunch all week. 

Click here for the recipe. 

Choose kindness. Every gesture counts. Peace and love always. 

Finding the heartbeat

 

Good morning! Chilly walk but warming up to the 60s. That time of year when it is brisk upon waking but if the wind is light, you can get a blanket and sit outside in the sun to read a book in the afternoons. Simple moments. 

The fresh air feels amazing. Exercise helps me handle excess nervous energy, channeling in the same manner that writing does in some ways. Different outlets but both...outlets. 

This week I have been thinking more about connection and community.  Imagine the earth as a whole. Then zoom in closer and closer until you see your home and the closest neighborhood around you. Think Google Earth. 

I have always craved the idea of the perfect neighborhood. Living in Needham was the closest I had to that ideal. I have always loved the idea of living close to my neighbors, walking distance to everything, part of it all but with a private space to escape to when I seek space. I have always loved the idea of a commune probably for the same reason. I am someone who needs to be around familiar places where I can feel grounded. For me that means having local restaurants that become part of my routine, working out in a place where I recognize people around me, or finding the perfect general store. 

I think about New York City. I have always loved the heartbeat and the energy I feel the minute my feet hit the sidewalk. 5 boroughs, 319 square miles. Millions of people. 

Break it down further. Take Manhattan. 13.4 miles by 2.3 miles filled with distinct neighborhoods seen in the map below. These communities have their own cultures and you can walk from one to the other within minutes to get a real feel of each. A true slice of the world.

Of course over time, these neighborhoods morph and change. Sadly, gentrification has blended some of the edges and has chipped away the uniqueness of culture but you can say that about many places around the world. Having said that, how amazing is it to stand in one city and experience the sensory overload that occurs here. I imagine standing on the street staring up at the sky. The city moving around me. New York City is one place where I feel alive. I am merely one of millions and yet one of the things I love most is that it is a place I can bring this massive place down to a manageable slice. Best of both worlds - large urban environment broken down into neighborhoods. Blocks that you can learn every inch of over time. Community. Connection. 

When I think of travelling, I think of being in a place long enough to establish a routine. Even during a brief stay you can establish some sort of routine. Opening the mind to learn the feel of a place. Getting to know the people who live there. Familiarizing myself with neighborhoods, local stores and restaurants. Finding the heartbeat.

Song to put on: Heat Waves by Glass Animals

Book to read: Columbine by Dave Cullen

Recipe to make: My friend, Mary Anne McCollum, made this recently and loved it. It is on my list for this week. I have been into bowls lately and this is a fantastic recipe for one. 

Choose kindness. Every gesture counts. Peace and love. 

Four moments

 -photography by Gayle Oshrin

Four moments. 

It is any day in January. I am scrolling on Facebook and come across this photograph my old roommate posts. She lives in Greenwich Village and simply put, she is a talented photographer. Always has been. She is an attorney by trade but boy, I wait for her posts because they are always amazing. I have always loved photography as a medium. My house certainly has its fair share of it. I think I like it because it grounds me. Anyway, this piece really speaks to me. It reminds me of the old movie, Rear Window, that I absolutely love and have watched countless times. I reply to her post of this photograph, "very Rear Window". She responds..."or in this case, my front window". I mention that I neeeeeeeeedddd this and she responds asking for my address. New York City is a very special place to me and a place I don't spend enough time exploring but I am truly happy every time I do. I reach out on Messenger and we catch up a bit. It is so great to "talk" to her after so many years. Connection. Truly, the best (only?- another discussion for another day) part of social media (aside from Facebook Birthdays!). I give her my address and move forward with my day. Maybe a week later, I receive a package. The fact that she took the time to do this means a lot-more than she realizes, likely. 

Yesterday. I am at the Y. I am walking the track. In my own world. Listening to music. Greeting some new friends but living happily in my own head, enjoying the me time. I get hot so I take off my sweatshirt and out of my ear comes an air pod. I don't see it drop. I mildly panic. Where did it go? Did it fall to the gym floor below where people are playing pickleball. Is it somehow stuck in my clothing, even though I have patted myself down multiple times. Is it on the track around me? I am feeling stuck. Then, one person stops and asks if I lost something. They help and then say they will keep an eye out. Then, another does the same thing. Then, another. The fact that I am standing there, feeling a bit foolish, a bit panicked that I might have lost something, and people around me are willing to stop and ask. Multiple people. When I shake my sweatshirt really hard once again, it falls. Ahhhhhh. Relief. Deep breath. I start walking the hamster track again and I am surprised by how many people stop to ask if I found my ear bud. Connection. Community. 

This morning. I am still waking up and feeling a little out of sorts. I am opening up to Kelley and sharing the many mind zaps that are occurring for me this morning. He and I are talking and Chappy (that would be our dog) is standing between us staring at the both of us. His eyes go back and forth. Clearly, he is zeroed into me. We finish our conversation and Kelley starts to go downstairs. Chappy keeps looking back at me, making sure that I am following. I am not ready for the day and I do not follow. Chappy, very quietly, comes back and lies down with watchful eyes. He follows me around the house, never straying far. Connection in the smallest ways. Unspoken. Unconditional. Love.

This afternoon at 3:15 p.m. Sage comes home from school and has a quick turnaround because there is a game tonight. She needs dinner early. When I say early, I mean like 4 p.m. early. I am starting a new position on Monday and only have a few days left when I can make my daughter dinner at 4 p.m. I jump up and think what can I make quickly? Frozen pizza. (Home Run frozen pizza to be exact - I mean who doesn't like frozen pizza?) I need veggies. I love vegetables. I am kinda obsessed with them actually. Maybe that's silly but whatever. 

So, what do I do? I put on some music. Let's talk about the music actually. I really enjoy listening to albums beginning to end from time to time. I watched Euphoria a couple of weeks ago and was reminded of INXS Kick. So, that was what I put on Sonos.  I light my candle and pour some wine. I steam some spinach, roast some zucchini, pepper and cherry tomatoes, open up a nice bottle of red and throw the pizza and vegetables in the oven. And.......after that is done, I sit down to write to you. 

Song to listen to: Song for the Waiting by Aron Wright
Book to read: The Love Songs of W.E.B. Dubois

Recipe to make: Made up Asian fusion bowl. Yes, you read correctly. A new quick food place opened up near us (very yummy). I kept ordering the same thing so I decided to figure out how I would make it at home. Most of my meals are fast these days. I definitely used shortcuts. You do not need to but I did and I have varied this meal multiple times. 

Get a big bowl. Sauté some zucchini (or roast) in olive oil with a little garlic. Put in the bowl. Slice some carrots and put apple cider vinegar in them to coat. After 15 minutes, add to bowl. Steam some broccoli (Or cook with the zucchini) and place in bowl. Cook some quinoa (or rice or combination) and surprise, put in bowl. Add kimchi (you can buy at most stores now). Add some spinach or power green mixture. Sprinkle some peanuts in there. Add cilantro and scallions. Drizzle soy sauce or some sort of sesame, soy, ginger mixture. Stir well so that the warm veggies help cook the greens. Yummmmmmmm

Enjoy!

Choose kindness. Every gesture counts. Love and peace.