a week....just a week

Christmas was wonderful this year. 
I got all the things on my Christmas list.
Well…everything but snow for a white Christmas.
And a miraculous recovery for my back.

But that’s ok.  Everything else more than made up for the absence of those things. 

This year we added a princess to the family and there’s just something about a little 8 month old with her eyes open wide, drawing in her breath, reaching out her hands and saying “ohhhh…” to all the pretty and sparkly that brought a little added magic and wonder to the day. 

 

She even said “grandma” as she came to sit on my lap.  (OK, so it sounds a lot like “Guh” but I knew what she was saying!!!) 

And it was really awesome to receive a phone call from my youngest brother saying “Merry Christmas” first thing in the morning  – especially since we’ve been estranged and haven’t spoken to each other for years.

And texting the day’s events as they unfolded with another brother. And calling all the various and sundry relatives to wish them a Merry Christmas across the miles.

It just felt so good.  And complete. Everyone present and accounted for in each other’s lives.

It was quiet and peaceful.  Warm and comfy.

I kept looking around the gathering and thinking about how blessed I am.  Truly blessed – in the things that matter most.

The things of the heart.

That’s what I’m carrying into this week – as I am surrounded by the extraneous details – like a week of ordered bed rest or sitting in the recliner to give my back a chance to rest before going in for my final epidural, and a new full set of MRI’s.    

And although I initially balked at being shut-down and shut in this week – after yesterday, when I spent the day napping and resting and watching movies I’ve been wanting to sit down and watch but haven’t had the time, I thought I just might be able to do this sitting still thing – and actually enjoy it without bombarding myself with all the hundred thousand things I “should” be doing instead.

For a week.

Just a week.
 
So, I’ve got a couple of movies ready to stream on my laptop.
And a couple of books I’ve wanted to read on my nightstand.
My new ergonomic pillow.
And fuzzy red fleecy sheets on my bed.
My comfy lounging wear. 
A tin of Christmas cookies on my lap and a cup o’starbucks in my hand. 

Because the doctor said so, y’all. 

And I promised to stop arguing with him about what I need to do to take care of myself. 

Well....for this week anyway. (grin)

 

wait.....

.....you missed one.

Right there - see it? 
That unwrapped gift, right there by the tree.

The best present you could ever give.
Or receive.

The most important one to open.

Ohhh.....I get it (nodding my head in understanding)....
you were saving the best for last.

Of course!

It's here!! 
And it's awesome.
Just waiting to be unwrapped.

Click here for the scoop!!

i sent you

Past the seeker as he prayed, came the crippled, the despairing and the broken.  His heart breaking at the injustice, the man stood before God and cried out with great passion, “Great God, how am I to believe in your loving benevolence when you see such suffering in the world and yet do nothing to stop it?” 

God replied, “ I did do something. I sent you.”

(Sufi teaching)

“I sent you.”

Last week we all heard the stories about random strangers walking into K-Mart and Walmart and paying off  lay-away balances.  Or the woman who stood in the toy aisle at Target and handed out fifty dollar bills; the man dressed up as Santa handing out hundred dollar bills and the person in the Starbucks drive-through who handed the clerk five hundred dollars and told her it was to pay for as many people’s orders as it would pay for that day.   

And that’s only the stuff we heard about.  The stuff that made the news and went viral. 

Behind those front page stories are the untold stories of hundreds of thousands (and more) small, random acts of kindness.

Because there are those who remember our most important reason for being here. 

To love each other and take care of each other.
Those who witness the despair and the broken, and more than just talking about it,
do something about it. 

In big ways and small ways – it doesn’t matter. 

With money or without.

What matters is the intention.
And the action.
Most importantly, the extended wide open heart behind the action.

The opportunity to put love (in whatever form) where it is most needed. 

Because we belong to each other.

And we need to take care of each other.

Because even a loving and benevolent God can’t be everywhere and do everything on His own. 

He (unlike we) not only knows that, but graciously accepts it. 

Which is why he sent us.

To fill in the gaps, patch the holes and finish the sentences for each other when it is most needed.  

So no-one has to do this thing called life alone.

Or feel alone - bereft.

So we all have someone to witness us, in our joy and in our sorrows.
So that we, having been witnessed ourselves, can witness others.

In ancient tradtition, it is taught that we experience (first hand)  that which we are to heal in ourselves  – all the barricades we’ve built that have hardened our hearts and keep us from living wide open love so that we can then “pay it forward” -  using our own experiences to extend compassion, hope and healing to others. 

Not bemoan our lot in life.

Or complain about all the pain and suffering in the world.
Neither of which changes anything and only puts even more suffering (albeit our own) out in the world.
 

“Great God, how am I to believe in your loving benevolence when you see such suffering in the world and yet do nothing to stop it?” 

And God, smiling upon us as He takes our hand patiently explains, “I did do something. I sent you.”

That's what I'm thinking about today.  

gotta share this......

"When you stop chasing the wrong things you give
the right things a chance to catch you."

As you know, I am an avid blog hopper. I LOVE reading blogs.  And I love when I find a blog that inspires me so much, I spend hours reading all the archives - just to soak it all in.

That's how I felt when I came across Marc and Angel's blog.  It's an awesome blog full of lists on various topics - in fact the above quote is from their "30 things to quit doing to yourself" post. 

Ok, so at the risk of sharing "too much information"  - I have a bulletin board on the wall directly in front of my toilet.  You might be tempted to think that (or me) wierd, but hang on......it's the first place I go in the morning when I wake up.   And so, my bulletin board holds the things that inspire me, the things I want to remember, the things that I want to start my day thinking about.

Makes sense doesn't it?

Things like: "When you stop chasing the wrong things, you give the right things a chance to catch you."

I encourage you to hop on over to "Marc and Angel Hack Life" and do a little reading.  Especially the "30 things to quit doing to yourself."

I can't think of a better springboard for some empowering New Year's resolutions.

Seriously - it's that good.

hey santa....

“I’m dreaming of a white Christmas…..”

One of the really good things about moving from the West Coast to Wisconsin was the guarantee of a white Christmas.

As a person who grew up in sunny SoCal,  there’s just something about snow that makes Christmas, well, a little more festively Christmas.

But this year, for the first time in the 12 years we’ve been here now, it looks like that’s all it will be -  DREAMING -  of a white Christmas instead of having one.

(My inner child stomps her feet, crosses her arms across her chest and pouts.)

I want snow. 

If I have to live here, separated from family and long term friends during the season of gatherings - I at least want to look out the window and see snow to bring a smile to my face and make the loneliness a little more bearable.

And I want it now.

Is it really too much to ask?

The part of me that still believes in magic listens to the weather forecast and says, “what do they know?  They can’t predict the weather that far in advance” while the part of me that lives in this scientific realm of technology is wondering where to buy that snow in a can stuff that I can spray on my windows to at least give the illusion of snow covered windows from the inside of my house.

Yep, I want snow.  Lots of it.

(sigh)

I’m off to write a letter to Santa – hoping there’s still time for it to reach him.  I’ve been (pretty much) a good little girl this year, and I’m keeping my fingers crossed that he has more pull with things like weather than the forecasters. 

I’ll keep you posted!

strangers?

One time I saw a young girl alone with a baby. It was a crisp winter morning and her hair shone dark purple in the sun. She was panhandling outside the Holiday Inn and the door clerk came out and told her to be on her way and quit bothering people and she said “but I have no place to go” and I wondered if anyone would recognize the Madonna and Christ child if they happened to meet. I remember thinking it’s not like there are any published pictures and purple seemed like a good hair color for a Madonna so I gave her a dollar just in case.    (Brian Andreas - StoryPeople)

What would we do if we were faced with the purple Madonna?

Would we notice?

And if we did, would we hurriedly walk by, averting our gaze and thus minimizing her existence? Would we tell her to be on her way, whether overtly or covertly, by our words or our avoidance?

Would we give her a dollar and continue walking, feeling good for doing something nice for another or would we stop and talk to her? Give her not just money, but something much more important – giving her acknowledgement and extending our heart. Maybe even offer to hold the baby for a while so she could rest her arms, maybe hold her hand for a while so she would know she was not alone - even if only for a few minutes?

Out and about in the world, I think about that a lot.

There was a song in the 80’s that asked the question, “What if God was one of us? Just a stranger on the bus trying to make his way home?”

We don’t really know, do we?

Yesterday I was at the salon. Sitting out in the 'holding zone' / reception area, waiting for my turn to be beautified, I took in all the activity around me. I love watching people and observing life as it unfolds around me.

So, I watch....people sitting, coming and going. And I kid you not - each and every person
was in the middle of a cell phone conversation and/or texting, and/or face buried in a
magazine.

Well except for me and one other woman who is watching me watching them and grins at
me, saying, "It's a statement of the world isn't it?"

I laugh nodding my head and we strike up a conversation. About nothing in particular - about stuff that's important and stuff that isn't. About woman stuff. "Small talk" as it used to be called. She tells me of a book she's been reading and we find out we have much in common. We talk some more.

She asks me about my cane, and hearing my story tells me she’s sorry I have to be going through all this. It's a bittersweet Christmas she tells me, going on to explain that her daughter-in-law just miscarried the first of the month and it would have been her first (and long awaited) grandchild. "I'm so sorry" I say, meaning it with all my heart because I’m a new grandma and I can’t imagine the world without my precious little princess. My heart not only heard her pain, but saw it - in her eyes, in her posture, in the way she bowed her head and looked away, just for a moment.

I reached out and put my hand over hers. She laced her fingers with mine. And we sat there for a moment, silent - honoring, connecting and healing by shared, conscious presence.

We both could have so easily missed the opportunity to reach out to one another – to take care of one another, to be there for each other.

Covertly or overtly.

Plato wrote; “Be always kind, for everyone you meet is fighting their own battle.”

We all long for someone to care about us, to notice us, love us, smile on us, be kind to us, maybe even hold our hand or embrace us in a hug – letting us know, in the midst of our battles, that we aren’t alone.   That we matter.

The purple Madonna outside the Holiday Inn, the stranger on the bus just trying to make their way home, or the person standing next to us in line - does it matter?  For in the end, I believe we are all looking for the same thing - a tangible, heartfelt connection - someone to say "I'm here, I see you and I care."

Out and about in this world of busyness, technology and "social media" - I think about that a lot.

Maybe we all should.

the divine mother

I’ve been reading Clarissa Pinkola Estes newest book, “Untie the Strong Woman – the Blessed Mother’s Immaculate Love for the Wild Soul.” It’s a perfect read for this time of year – as we await the birth of the son (sun) and the transition into the new year.

And I’ve signed up for Shilo Sophia McCloud’s “The Red Madonna” tour.

I can’t wait for that!

About five years ago when I was doing research for my thesis on ancient women’s spirituality, I met (and got to spend a weekend with) an incredible woman named Dale Allen who wrote, produced and performed a one woman play titled “In Our Right Minds.”  It was an anthology; tracing the history of women from the ancient Goddess to modern day, and although there were so many aspects of the play that profoundly impacted me, this song has stayed with me through the years. (It’s a rewrite of “O Holy Night” called (now) “O Holy Dawn.”

As I read further into Clarissa’s book, the song keeps playing in my mind, especially this part: 

“Rise to your feet, hear the ancient voices of love within - feel her strength and love within. O love Divine, O love, her love Divine.”

2012 is said to be the year of the divine and sacred feminine.  A time of reconnection – a time to bring the sacred mother back from her exile.

She’s calling us - her daughters,  home. Home to her, home to love, home to the sacred circle of our inherent divinity. Have you heard the whisper or felt the stirring deep within your heart and soul?

the divine gift of you

A while back my dear friend and soul sister Big Juicy Jane told me I was Christmas.

I laughed out loud with glee and clapped my hands together in delight.  It was (then) and is still (now) one of the most awesomely bodacious things anyone ever told me about myself.

So it's the season of gift giving - and as I think of the gifts I'd love to give out, the gift of belovedness keeps coming up.

The great Jesuit philosopher Henri Nouwen wrote that our greatest purpose for being here is to give each other the gift of our inherent belovedness.  That has become somewhat of a life mantra for me - I try to live it, walk it, embody it and fulfill it. 

So at the beginning of December, as I sat down to write out my Christmas gift list, I heard the whispered calling and knew what I wanted to do. 

I wanted others to know themselves as Christmas, to be given the gift of themselves as dear Jane had given it to me.

I've been creating a workshop called "The Divine Gift of You"
And I offer it freely, devotedly, lovingly from my heart and soul to yours.

It's almost ready.
And I'm really excited to unveil it.
So excited that I'm not going to wait until it's all done to start spreading the word. 

Each week I'll be putting up a new "chapter" here on the blog.
You can follow along here.
And to add a little icing to the cake, I've created a gathering place if you'd like to take the journey in the company of an incredible group of women over at "Being Queen" my private online "NING" community.

So - here's the preview - click here
And if you want to join the community - here's your special invitation.

I'm on a roll.....

Ho! Ho! Ho!

Yep - I’m on a treat making roll!

My little club cracker cookies* turned out so well (I’ve already made two more batches) that yesterday I decided to make my famous (guaranteed success) Red Hot Cinnamon Candy Popcorn.

(*My dear friend Sally Sunshine told me the cracker cookies are actually called “PMS Cookies” – which, given the salty and sweet nature of them totally fits! Oh, and by popular request, I’ve included the recipe below!)

OK - back to the popcorn! 

A little warning if you decide to make a festive little batch…..
It’s addictive.
Seriously addictive.
Especially if you love candied popcorn.

I started with a little helper:



My favorite present under the tree! (which is where she wanted to be most of the day)


And then gathered up all my ingredients:

4 bags of microwave popcorn – popped. (I use “buttered” popcorn but you can use plain)
½ cup butter (do not substitute margarine or spread for the butter)
½ cup sugar
½ tsp salt
¼ cup light corn syrup
1 cup cinnamon ‘red hot’ candies
¼ tsp baking soda

And got started:

Preheat oven to 350

1. Melt butter in saucepan.
2. Stir in corn syrup, salt and cinnamon candy.
3. Bring to a boil and continue to boil (stirring constantly) until all candies are melted and dissolved.
4. Reduce heat to medium and boil without stirring 3 minutes.
5. Remove from heat; stir in baking soda.
6. Pour mixture over popped corn – mixing well.
7. Spread on cookie sheets and bake @ 250 for 30-40 minutes, stirring every 15 minutes.
8. Immediately turn out onto waxed or parchment paper to cool.
9. Once cool, break apart and store in airtight containers or zip lock bags.

And voila!

It’s red and bright and cheerful and festive!!
And incredibly yummy! 
Enjoy!!


And now….. as promised, the recipe for “PMS Cookies”:

Keebler Club Crackers
1 cup sugar
1 cup butter (no substitutions)
1 tea. vanilla
½ - 1 cup (depending on taste) sliced almonds

Pre-heat oven to 350
Line cookie sheet with parchment paper
Lay out individual crackers side to side, filling the cookie sheet
Melt butter in saucepan
Add sugar and vanilla
Bring to boil, stirring constantly to avoid burning
Boil for 3 minutes (start timing at the first sign of “bubble”
Pour mixture over crackers
Sprinkle almonds over top, patting down carefully (mixture is hot)
Bake for 10 minutes.

Take out of oven and let cool
Break apart and store in airtight container or zip lock bags.

So how about you?  Got a really easy holiday treat you make?
Share!! Share!! Share!!

Let's start our own little "recipe exchange" right here!!

tis the season to be merry

The season of baking and candy making is upon us.

Can I get a Ho, Ho, Ho?

I love the whole concept of baking and cooking and creating meals and fixing food.

Of gathering people around my table and feeding them. 
I can loose all track of time watching The Food Network channel. 
And spend hours perusing Allrecipes.com.
I dvr “Chopped” so I don’t miss an episode.
I idolize Nigella Lawson and Paul Deen.
Along with buying groceries, I also throw all the food/recipe magazines in my cart at check-out. My cookbook collection spans two full shelves in my pantry.
One of my favorite movies is “Like Water for Chocolate.”
I once stole a magazine from the doctor’s office waiting room for its really awesome cupcake recipes.     

Yep, you could say it’s a passion with me and I live on the fringe of obsession. 

And you would probably think, given what I’ve just told you, that I’m a great cook.

But, you’d be wrong. 

Sadly, (shaking my head) you’d be wrong.

(sigh)

It’s not that I didn't try. 

Each time I'd find a new recipe, I would be filled with positive intention and anticipation, but then, despite my “you can do this” pep talk, whatever I’d made never turned out the way I thought it should turn out, or looked like the picture, or lived up to the expectation I'd placed on myself.  

Bleck.  
I would always end up raining on my own parade.  

In my defense, I come from a long line of perfectionistic and phenomenally great cooks on my maternal side.  I mean REALLY, REALLY GREAT cooks who made everything from scratch and could turn the simplest ingredients into a (literal) work of art – laying out a spread on the table that had people drooling over the sight and smell alone. 

So the push for culinary excellence is deeply embedded in my psyche. 

And now, it’s the Christmas season. Time to do a little festive baking and candy making – filling decorative plates with delectable morsels. The pictures of holiday delights grace the cover of every magazine on the stands – taunting me.

I can’t avoid it.

Or divert my gaze.
Or stop myself.
It’s literally everywhere I turn.
And I fall victim to the allure – setting myself up for failure.

Because I come from a long line of phenomenally great cooks and think I should be one too.

Until this year.  Yep, "take me out of the oven I'm done" I say.

I sampled these great little Club Cracker Cookies at a Holiday Open House recently.  “OMG” the hostess laughed when I raved about them and asked for the recipe.  “They’re so easy, my 13 year old daughter and her friend made them.

Really? 

My heart skips a beat. 

Easy enough for a 13 year old?
I can’t get into my kitchen fast enough.

And all I can say is stand back and behold girlfriends:

Yep – I made these.

They turned out beautifully!
And they're beyond yummy.

I laughed out loud with glee and delight as they cooled on the counter.

And although I know the long line of phenomenally great cooks that make up my lineage are rolling over in their respective graves, I’m proud of myself.
And I had fun.
 
Years ago I told my husband I wanted piano lessons for Christmas.  So he went out and bought me a piano and 6 months worth of lessons.  I was so touched, I cried.  I went to a month’s worth of lessons before I finally realized that although I love the piano, I was definitely one who was meant to enjoy it rather than play it. 

And that’s okay.

Because we all have the areas we excel in and the areas we don’t.
That's the way it was always meant to be, before we got all caught up in being super powers and putting the pressure to excel in everything upon ourselves.

I can walk into a room and design it from the ground up with ease.  I have an incredible eye for texture and design and color and flow.  Likewise, I am phenomenally great with fashion – and can transform an outfit with a few well chosen and placed accessories.  And I definitely have a gift for talking with people - making them feel welcome and comfortable and at ease. 

So….so what if I’m not exactly a kitchen goddess? 

I love the concept of baking and cooking.

I enjoy watching cooking shows and reading cooking magazines and books.
I enjoy being in the kitchen when I feel like being domestic.
For the simple pleasure of it and the joy it brings me in the way it brings me joy.
I admire Nigella Lawson and Paula Deen - but I'm not them.

I am me.
And that’s more than enough.
So, I’m enjoying my festive little cracker cookies.
Because it is the season to be jolly, merry and bright after-all.

Ho! Ho! Ho! 

kicking off december in style

Yeah!!  It's December.  I LOVE December.  I love the magical festiveness in the air - the sights and smells and specialness of it all.  And yes, being a Queen, I especially love dressing up and bedecking myself in glitter, sequins, sparkle and shine.

Especially when it comes to shoes. 

With the back situation as it is, I've been wearing industrial type clogs with orthopedic inserts.  And while they serve their purpose and I really do love my Danskos, there is just something about putting on a sassy little pump that makes me laugh and believe I can still twirl and dance my way across a floor.

Yep - so when my eyes first feasted on these beauties, there was no question they would be my "go to" attitude adjustment "must haves" and I clicked on "add to cart" without hesitation.    

So I do have them - they were delivered yesterday. 

And they're on my feet right now this moment.
Every time I look down, I laugh in delight.

That's what December is going to be about for me- remembering and embracing the joyful wonder that surrounds me.   

There are plenty of opportunities for the profound and reverent in the holiday season - but there also needs to be room for fun and laughter.

And that often comes in the simplest ways. 
With simple things.
Like a pair of sassy and bejeweled red slings without orthodic inserts.

Really.