Mantra Madness

Starting today, I will monitor all my thoughts and check if they are coming from an empowered or disempowered place. I will cooperate with what Source is giving me at this exact moment. I choose that cooperation from an empowered place because I am in control of my life right now. I will not resist any circumstance or lesson because my ego feels things should be different. I am not a disempowered victim who is forced to eat whatever is served. I accept reality as is with Radical Acceptance, leaning into the discomfort and dissatisfaction I have in certain areas. I accept that I have no ability to fix the past or determine the future. I radically accept parts of myself, habits, and thought patterns with loving awareness. I will no longer berate myself for any of those things; I know now where they all originated from and that none of it was ever my fault. I will release my tendency to over analyze and dissect; those serve to make sense of certain situations that confused and hurt me. Analyzing everything was a survival skill I picked up as a child in order to attempt to understand my surroundings. That skill was honed well into adulthood. I have other skills now so I can put the old ones to rest. My life is different. Old stories and old versions of me don’t belong here anymore. I choose my new life out of empowerment. I am worthy of self forgiveness and self love. I love all the destructive thoughts and feelings I have throughout the day, because it is they who have taught me the opposite. With gentle, loving kindness towards myself I place all those thoughts and feelings into glass jars and stack them outside the cave in which I sit. This cave has only me, the real Me, and a candle that never flickers or extinguishes. I honor all mental and emotional activity while keeping them outside of my innermost sanctuary, my everlasting Self. I decide which thoughts can join me. I decide which feelings will serve me today in my quest to maintain a vibration of joy. I see my body with reverence; it is a vessel for love, life, healing, and nothing else. I was placed in it 41 years ago to only contribute good to this world. I regard all addictive holding patterns with loving awareness as well, for they too were developed as a means of emotional survival. They once helped me superficially. They are no longer of use to me. I am grateful for the muddy waters that have been stirred up once again from the bottom of my lake. I can only skim whatever fat arises to the surface. I cannot fix what isn’t revealed to me. The more I rest, the more I repair. The slower my motions, the more control I have. I will not lose my foundation. I will stay true to the integrity of whatever pose I’m in. I know that I can be reborn every day. There is no cap on how many new versions of us can arise; this is proof of our limitless nature. I will not shrink myself with formed thoughts of any kind, for What I really am is formless. I will flow with nature right now and give the moon whatever doesn’t belong with me anymore. Old attachments, reactivity, judgements, fears, habits, and ego based doubts are mine to release. A new season is upon us. The season of renewal.  I give these away from a source of strength not weakness. I am already free. My mind tries to destroy that freedom by telling me all kinds of vicious theories and tales, but I am already free since birth. I will keep entering new doors of loving self awareness, self acceptance, self worth and finally, true self love. I will not fill gaps and spaces with external attention and validation. I will honor those gaps and learn what their silences have to further educate and enlighten me. I will respect my yin side and just rest, knowing that all the right things will make their way towards me in time. People, situations, and relationships will come at me magnetically if I am calm in a state of trust. This trust must extend to my deepest places as well. Trust of self is new when you’ve never been able to trust those external to you either. I will smile as I crack open harder, knowing full well how much stronger and cleaner this will make me. I am grateful for all lessons I have been deemed ready for. I am grateful for those who have plunged me into pain so I can learn how to resurface on my own. Any place within me that has been lacking, I will pour loving kindness into. I will direct the compassion I so easily give to others inward. It’s time.  I will proceed with empowerment. I will repeat this until more versions of me shrivel up and are cast aside. The journey continues. It always continues...

Cous Cous Fig Tart

The words “cous cous” and “desert” are most certainly not an obvious pairing. I came across this idea in a macrobiotic cookbook that I don’t recall buying. I love looking through cookbooks to get inspired for new recipes. I add, tweak, and make it my own. It’s easier to do that with cooking. Baking, however, requires stricter adherence to measurements since it’s more of a science. In my recent quest to come up with healthier desert alternatives, I was intrigued by making a tart crust out of whole wheat cous cous. This recipe has zero flour or refined sugar. It’s truly a guilt free indulgence. It’s satisfying and filling since the crust is legit, but it’s clean. Cooking the cous cous in apple juice gives it a wonderful sweetness. I love the look of halved fresh figs. Any sliced fruit can top this though. I think the cookbook used peaches. I added more ingredients to my version but kept it vegan. It was a crap shoot but came out delicious. I probably shouldn’t say “crap” when writing up a recipe... 

You’ll need:

3 cups good quality apple juice.

1 1/2 cups whole wheat cous cous ( the tiny kind, not the pearled pasta kind).

1/4 cup melted coconut oil.

2 tbsp ground flax meal. Flax meal has many health benefits, including lowering cholesterol and increasing fiber intake. It was a no brainer to add some here.

1/2 a cup of good jam, such as apricot, peach, plum, or raspberry. I used apricot. I liked the color contrast with the purple figs.

A container of fresh figs, sliced in half lengthwise.

Directions:

Preheat oven to 350. Spray a ten inch springform pan with removable bottom well with non stick spray. Set aside.

Prepare the cous cous with the apple juice instead of water according to package directions. After it’s done, Mix with the flax meal and coconut oil to make the crust. 

Meanwhile, mix the jam with 1/4 cup of water in a small pot. Bring to a boil and let simmer on low for several minutes until the jam thins out. Let cool. Pat the cous cous down into the spring from pan firmly to form the crust. Spread half the cooled jam onto the top leaving an inch border.

Arrange the figs artfully (or not) on top. Pour the rest of the jam on top to set the figs. Press whichever sliced fruit you’re using gently into the crust before the second jam pouring. Bake until the Tart is set and a tester comes out clean. about 45 minutes. Every oven is different. I’d start checking after 35 minutes. Cool completely before slicing.

Listen to Nina Simone- I Put a Spell on You

An LBD, LB Style

Everyone knows that an essential piece in every chick’s closet in an LBD, a Little Black Dress. It always looks good, sexy, and can be dressed up or down. It’s a versatile item that you can have for decades, if it’s a fairly classic style and your body doesn’t radically change. I generally like to dress more interestingly than a little black one piece wonder, but sometimes there is no denying the ease and power of the black cocktail dress. This Roland Mouret number has been my friend for maybe 9 years now. It still looks great on its own or jazzed up, like it is here. Just because a black dress can carry itself, doesn’t mean it has to all the time (hence, the versatility). I always feel that outerwear is just as important as the main outfit component, even if it’s going straight to be hung up in the coat closet. Btw, I hate checking my coats; I’m always worried they won’t be there when I go to retrieve them (yeah yeah, non attachment, I know. I try.).

This was the first time I busted out this new purple iridescent blazer. I’m kind of obsessed with it. The color, sheen, and the ringmaster cut make it so fresh and fabulous. I love shimmer and it felt very festive yet chic to head out for the night in this jacket. The purple feathered collar is one of my fave accessories. I can only use it sparingly, and it’s been awhile since I wore it last. I love a funky collared piece. What drove home this look to make it black tie, despite the dress being shorter, were the magnificent pieces of jewelry from the new Rami Gem collection. Rami happens to be a close friend of mine, and has exquisite taste in the finest gemstones. He is my go to jewelry designer whenever I need major bling. His work is always show stopping yet classy. Anything ostentatious or too in your face isn’t for me. I trust his taste completely, and he has a huge selection to perfect any look. The cool thing about accessorizing a little black dress is that you can remove the added pieces when you want to get down and dance and still look amazing. I love when an outfit is flexible and modular like that. Rigidity sucks, right? Clothing works for you, not the other way around. A little black dress, a fabulous statement blazer, funky neckwear, and fantastic jewelry. Just make sure the accessories work together and not compete with one another. You’ll know. If not, less is more and stick to one statement element. Bye🕺🏽

Polenta and Marsala Mushrooms 🍄

This dish was perfect for me. I haven’t eaten meat or chicken in about a year and a half, and one of my fave chicken dishes evah was Chicken Marsala. I love the rich earthiness of the mushrooms, the Marsala wine, and the savory onions and garlic all simmered together. Fresh thyme is always a must for me when working with these flavors. It’s pops the grounded feeling of the other components. Literally, mushrooms are so of the earth, so an above ground fresh herb works nicely here. These mushrooms would top any protein beautifully, even eggs, but I stayed vegan here by using polenta. Polenta cooks so quickly, is hearty, natural, and has that lovely yellow color. It’s visually appealing mush. This was the perfect lunch to serve to the crew at our last photo shoot. It makes a great main or appetizer.

Ingredients:

Four cups of vegetable stock (one box)

One cup quick cooking polenta

1 tbsp truffle oi

Two tbsp extra virgin olive oil

One tbsp packed fresh thyme leaves (just slide the leaves down off the stems)

Half a cup Marsala wine

12 to 16 oz of mixed exotic mushrooms such as Cremini/oyster/shiitake

One medium onion halved then sliced very thin

Three garlic cloves sliced very thin length wise

Prepare polenta according to package directions using the vegetable stock. In a large sauté pan, heat the oils. Add the onions and sauté until fragrant and translucent. Deglaze with additional tablespoons of extra Marsala wine or vegetable stock as needed. Don’t let the pan dry out. Add the garlic and cook for another two minutes. Add the mushrooms, salt to taste (I’d say a tsp),stir, then add the half cup of Marsala. Sauté until all is blended together really well and most of the wine has evaporated. Add the thyme and let it do its thing for several minutes on a low flame. Divide the polenta into bowls and top with the mushroom mixture. Garnish with a sprig of fresh thyme if you care .

Orange Jam🍊

 I love orange! Bold and bright, it knows how to confidently make a statement. This  skirt, while not in your face, stands out for its particular shade of orange as well as it’s midi length and soft pleating. It’s gratifying when a piece you never thought you’d get so much use out of proves you wrong. This skirt is fairly new and I paired it with this top I’ve had for about 17 years. Of course, you’ve all seen this belt a million times. That’s simply because it works with almost everything, despite its large scale. It’s also the only good black belt I have. I’ve always loved this top. It was my first silk blouse ever I think. The collar is so ladylike and delicate, which is why I like to rough up the sleeves by keeping them unbuttoned. The gray, black, yellow and orange color palette printed on silk is also a nice contrast of strong and soft. This shirt is deceptive in that it’s very modest but not really conservative (which to me is a synonym for boring). Belting the top over the orange pleated skirt sticks with the modest yet interesting theme. It’s perfect for Shabbat or holidays. Major bonus points for being flowy and comfortable. This is true effortless chic, which is why I went with this hairstyle. A black boyfriend blazer would top this off to add another layer. Contrast the feminine silhouette of the outfit with the relaxed boyfriend fit of the jacket, and keep the blazer on the longer side to stay close to the longer length of the shirt. You want some of the shirt peeking out but not too much or it will look disproportionate. This look is a great template for experimenting with bolder colors while not feeling like a clown🤡. Choose one bright piece and mix it with neutrals in your comfort zone. It can be an accessory too. One of my favorite looks is to pair a navy dress with neon orange shoes. Color is fun. It makes people happy. Enough with the all black already!

Heavy Flow

 Strength vs Flexibility. This is an interesting one, in that I need to start firmly differentiating between these traits. What do I mean? Well, I do know that there is a large dose of strength that’s required to be flexible in life. Only the weak and frightened cling to the controlled rigidity of unhealthy, outdated paradigms, maniacal eating habits, Nazi like schedules and regimens etc. There must be baseline seeds of courage to try new things, embrace new ideas, and welcome change. Inner strength and confidence is needed to know you won’t fall apart by not being able to predict and control the outcomes of life, be they minor or major. To stay safe isn’t very strong; that’s what keeps us in our shadows. Scary conversations, inviting new people into our carefully constructed lives, displaying vulnerability, and the big one; BEING WRONG. We avoid feeling uncomfortable by living life according to the familiar sensory experiences that we have always expected. At this stage in my life, a time where I’ve built up so much inner strength, I have indeed naturally adopted increased flexibility too. I feel strong therefore I can be adaptable, riding out the waves of life. I’m much less afraid to fall, knowing how resilient I’ve become. My mind is open and I’m embracing new ideas. I’m not judging the stories surrounding others nearly as much, and am understanding that anything is possible. That people make mistakes. That new chapters and belief systems are attainable to us all. That’s it’s admirable and brave to work on ourselves and steer the ship in a new direction. Strength and flexibility have become interchangeable badges of honor for me. But alas, they are not the same at all.

Recently I allowed (subconsciously) certain patterned situations into my life that cannot continue. I’m so trusting in what the Universe places in front of me, and so I’ve “gone with the flow” too readily, often without slowing down to calmly observe the facts. I’m flexible, right?? What I’ve learned is this; just because something or someone is placed in your path, this does not mean you have to pick it/them up. Maybe an opportunity has arrived as a test to see just how ready we are to level up. Do we rise above our instinct to be flexible and instead use caution and rationale? Do we focus on keeping an open heart while simultaneously maintaining healthy boundaries to protect ourselves? Do we learn that being flexible doesn’t mean we have to dive head first into any situation, simply because it’s new and it is “new” that we want? Do we realize that strength means saying no, and that perhaps another variation of weakness is the inability to keep ourselves untangled from other peoples’ issues? I’ve been writing a lot about adaptability, which is a trait governed by the water chakra. But I’m thinking I might be a bit unbalanced in that area. It needs some tending. By welcoming too much adaptability into my life lately, I haven’t been acting very strong; I’ve been too permeable and therefore, not very strong. There’s such a thing as being too flexible. That’s when it crosses a line into foolishness. Yes, true strength is required to say yes to life. But it’s also required to say no. No to bad ideas. No to stagnancy. No to old narratives and familiar bullshit. No to the old versions of ourselves that each of us keep bringing into new chapters. Strength is walking away without the pressure of having to keep molding and bending ourselves just because another asks us too, however sweetly. To be strong is to be self aware, and to make choices in the very best interest of self care. To know where we need to go. To forgive ourselves for being too permeable and for letting others slip past the gates. We are the security guards at the booth at the entrance to our lives; if we slack off then the riff raff sneaks in. Strength is being on guard while asking lots of questions before opening the gate. You wouldn’t let strangers into your home, so why in the interest of flexibility would we allow them into our lives? Yes, when we are strong we are equipped to embrace change. Firm roots yield beautiful, outstretched branches. A solid foundation won’t get knocked over by fierce winds. This is all true. But being strong also requires knowing how and when to choose to embrace change. Certain waves of life are coming for us no matter what. We will not want or ask for most of what life throws at us, but deal with it we must. However, there are other waves in which we do get to decide whether or not we are going to run into the surf. Strength is knowing when to stay put on the shore, enjoy your quiet time, feel the earth beneath you, and embrace stillness. To be strong is to be patient, while being flexible about our preconceived notions for how life is meant to be. I am both. I can be both. I will be both.

Listen to Nina Simone- Trouble In Mind

The 🦋Effect, Part 2

 So this second look was an impromptu addition to this last shoot. I love to maximize my time as much as I can when photographing, and before I changed out of this top and jeans, I quickly changed the look. It was an easy transformation since the main pieces stayed on. I undid my hair and swapped the  palm tree cardigan for a vintage Marc Jacobs corduroy jacket. That was all it took to give this butterfly blouse and bellbottoms a whole new feel. I love this jacket. I forget about it a lot so it doesn’t get as much airtime as it should. My louder, larger coats overpower it so I don’t even see it in the coat closet. But when I do spot it, it’s like, ah...there you are! The neutral color, cropped length, and feminine sleeve shape add instant effortless chic. This jacket requires zero thought. It’s a terrific lightweight yet substantial essential piece, due to the soft corduroy material. Who doesn’t love corduroy? It’s so yummy in its sensibility. It is the embodiment of Autumn, but will help me stylishly transition into Spring as the cold temps lighten up. That’s a theme here with these two looks; chic, practical, whimsical looks that are grounded and can go from season to season. We have so much to learn from butterflies. The symbolism is endless. That must be why I love them so much, for what they represent. Mother Nature does it again; teaching us about style and evolution. Homegirl sure knows her stuff.

Shake It Off 🍫🥜🍌

Good morning! I started making this protein breakfast shake for my daughter every night, for her to take to school in the morning. She grabs it and goes. It’s a snap to make and doesn’t liquify and get gross overnight. I make it in the NutriBullet, but I’m sure a regular blender will work too.

You’ll need:

A ripe banana

A cup of unsweetened chocolate almond milk

A scoop of chocolate protein powder. The powder is a fraction of the fat and calories of regular peanut butter with the same yummy peanut butter taste. I also add a generous squirt of NuNatural sugar free chocolate syrup.

PB fit powder

Blend well. If making for two just increase the almond milk to a cup and a half. The milk and protein powder can also easily be swapped for vanilla flavor. Protein, potassium, all natural sugar, the benefits of almond milk (or the milk of your choice),all blended together for a creamy chocolate peanut butter banana shake. Talk about a delicious, healthy, super fast way to start your day🏼. No doubt you’ll have to shake stuff off over the next 24 hours, that’s just life. But proper nutrition fortifies us so we can greet life healthy and stronger.

Dying From Laughter

My DJ instructor and I were talking the other day about the high suicide rate amongst comedians. My Scratch lessons are usually three hours; the first hour is just for catching up. Esquire and I need a lot of yenta time. It’s usually a mix of my personal life (during which he laughs both at and with me), random facts and events, life philosophy, pop culture, and whatever other bizarre topics weave their way into our airspace. These discussions are just one of the ways I’m certain he was divinely placed on my life. I cannot flourish or learn unless I’m deeply connected to someone. It’s just my process. I’d never have been the student who comes to class, sticks only to the musical task at hand, then slips out back on to the streets of Manhattan. I was BFF with my trainer of ten years, BFF with my contractor, BFF with my OBGYN, and BFF with my BFF’s. It’s just how I’ve always rolled. There’s either a closeness or not. As an aside, I’m working on finding a balance in other areas of my life. There needs to be a middle ground sometimes, just not with my Sensei.   

Anyway, we were contemplating the correlation between suicide and hilarity. This has always seemed like an obvious pairing to me, much like the suicide rate amongst musicians. I’ve never questioned that ratio either. Don’t misunderstand me; it’s horrible, tragic, and always leaves me feeling bereft when a true talent in the world vanishes. Someone who made us laugh will never do that again. Someone who made us dance and feel will never help us articulate our stuff stuff again. Not that anyone’s tragedy is ever about us. Of course not; it’s just that their special creative gift gave us something, even if it was several moments of feeling understood at a time we needed it desperately. This human gig is SO HARD. It is these intensely creative souls, especially the funny ones, who notice everything about the lunacy of the human condition. They miss nothing, zero in on the minutia and nuances of life, and spin it into a joke that our brains, bellies, and weak vaginal muscles react to. What is downright depressing or messed up is made lighter by highlighting the truth of it in a kick ass, dry delivery. Some of the best moments of my adult life have been spent jammed into a tiny, sticky table with strangers in the basement of a dirty New York City comedy club. Listening to these comedians dissect the overwhelming nuttiness of being alive. Whether it’s joking about a hot dog, divorce, a bizarre sexual experience, religion, or the batshit moments found in the mundane workplace, it all feels better once it’s brought to light on a dark stage. It is both a gift and a curse to notice things to such an extent. Bob Marley once said that his biggest blessing and biggest problem is that he notices everything. As a fellow human who notices a lot and picks up on surrounding energies constantly, I relate completely. It’s the details that make life so beautiful yet so painful, and the onslaught of information can indeed feel like an assault on the senses. The more you notice and see, the more the mind has to contend with. I imagine that for a deeply sensitive person who can’t escape all the swirling, often harsh facts of life, the only way out is well, out. Clearly anyone who takes their own life is grappling with some degree of mental illness, and that can’t be discounted. So when you’re a person whose purpose in life is to make everything funny, but you  just can’t anymore, then what? When the laughs die down and the humor feels like denial...?

Those who create are those who feel on levels the average person most likely doesn’t have access to (yet or ever). Creatives just operate differently. Their language is their own. To not create is to die anyway. When the bleak, ice cold reality of life is too painful to tolerate, and all that you notice and internalize makes it too hard to function, indeed not having to function seems easier. It’s the same layered well of pain that causes these comedians to extract the razor sharp laughs from a situation. Laughing and crying in the extreme sense are both considered “hysterical”. People always say “If you don’t laugh you cry”. It’s because they are so closely related. Some of the funniest stuff in life is also the darkest. To notice those things and turn painful truths into entertainment is a true gift. My favorite guests on the Howard Stern show are the comics. Next are the singer songwriters, but I’m endlessly fascinated by the funny ones. Because humor is gospel to me, especially when it’s cutting and the blow of the observation comes down hard and fast. Most of the time it’s stuff that’s crossed our minds before; so not only are our musings validated and we feel in on the joke, but we get to laugh at ourselves too. Self deprecation is such a crucial tool to have.  It’s so important not to take life too seriously. There must be a balance of heavy and light, as in all things. These comedians show us how to do that. Joan Rivers, the reigning queen of comedy, turned her beloved husband’s suicide into one of her most famous bits. She took her tears and made them laughs. It was her way of coping and going on, and she included her audience in her pain. Joan was a soldier who laughed her way through life into her 80’s, until some idiot doctor killed her during routine surgery. I swear I’ve fantasized about tracking him down and vindicating her. She wasn’t ready to die, just like so many of these comedians don’t feel equipped to live anymore. It’s too hard, too sad. It’s not funny anymore. And without the humor there’s no more oxygen. I loved Brody Stevens, the most recent comic to end his life. He was so great. This post is dedicated to him. I thank him for all the laughs he injected into my life, and mourn the jokes I’ll never get to hear. Laughter really is the best medicine, but as we know, not everything is curable.

Listen to Mahalia Jackson- When the Saints go Marching In

A Hetero View of Nature

About a year ago I started to think of gender differences as related to the elements. This was before I knew anything about the chakra system in conjunction with nature, a topic I’ve started to touch upon. I recall how this began. It was when during the earlier stages of my experience with meditation, I inexplicably kept feeling so watery. This was soothing to me. A sensation much like lying on a water bed, my innards were undulating with these aquatic feelings. It felt right at the time. My back was a mess of knots, so I scheduled a few Thai massage sessions with my friend Vikki. Vikki legit studied this healing technique in Thailand; homegirl knew her shizz. I told her about my recent liquidity, as well as about a personal struggle I was working through. She validated my thoughts and gave shape to them by explaining to me what the water element represents. It made tremendous sense, and the imagery revealed itself to me without my intentionally conjuring it up, since I had yet to understand its implications.

Since then I have come to identify women with water. Water is calming, cooling, refreshing, essential; we’d die of thirst without it, both physically and spiritually. Water is rebirth, renewal, hydrating, healing, soothing. Water grows and nurtures life, as we do. Water seeps deep into the cracks of dry solidity, sealing those parched, empty spaces with her magic. Nothing grows without her. Nothing is green, vibrant, or alive. If she decides not to come, everyone and everything suffers. All living things begin to wither. Life collapses. Tribal dances have been done since the dawn of time, begging her to bless the lands with her wet grace. Water is sneaky in how chameleon like she can be. She changes form according to the needs of those around her. She is willful and frightening (them bitches be crazy!) or eerily yet wisely still. She can destroy or quench. She can drown or lift life up, grabbing up hard matter out of the earth  with her silky, liquid hands. She flows over and around massive boulders, pours herself with staggering force over land masses. She is a gently babbling brook, the contents of the drinking glass in your hand, the iceberg that destroyed the Titanic, and Niagra Falls. The largest creatures on earth call her home. She spreads her love over 71% of this planet. She rises from below and falls from the sky. She is everywhere you need her to be. Without her everything dies. Nothing can ever be beautiful.                                                   

Men are the earth. Strong, solid, shades of brown and tan. They are the foundations of life. Great structures are built on them. No matter how many stories high, the earth below doesn’t falter. In anger the earth ruptures. When a man is feeling off, great schisms and divides create separation . Nothing feels whole. The rumblings leading up to this are felt in our core. Experts attempt to measure and gauge the size and breadth of these schisms, but men are so much deeper than they appear. They’re not so easy to quantify. However, when a man is in a weakened state he can support nothing. Nothing strong is ever built on a shaky foundation. The stories he had the potential to carry are over. The roots of life are only empowered when enmeshed with male strength. We can dig deep into men, they want us to. Men are sand. A soft, grainy collective stretching to meet their women. It is in that space of merging where the magic of life happens. That wet, cool part of the beach that is everyone’s favorite part to walk upon. The place where we write silly words in the sand with our fingers, knowing but not minding at all the impermanence of these writings. Where the waves roll in to kiss the sand that waits patiently for her to come and go. The flatness of the land is complimented by the ever changing choreography of water. The land watches in solid fascination as it’s liquid counterpart moves about, doing her thing. Enchanted by her movement, as she is calmed by his steadiness. She needs him too. She can’t sprinkle her magic without a place to catch it. Nature is a partnership. Each element is a perfect instrument playing in an orchestra. There are wondrous solos as well as brilliant collaborations. No one can play alone all the time, though practice is usually solitary. It’s the contrast in nature that highlights the beauty and importance of each elemental component.             

As for me, I feel like water more than ever. I’ll just have to keep flowing until a stretch of shore feels safe to me. Then I can roll calmly in towards a piece of solid ground that has been quite thirsty for some time now.

GG Crust Quiche 🌶🥕

 Kids, I think we have another GG Jesscipe on our hands! How nice is it to eat a guilt free piece of quiche in its entirety?? Not having to scrape the filling out or eliminate the crust entirely. It’s about time. While on this new kick I’m on to develop clean, healthy, low carb, low sugar recipes that feel somewhat like the real thing, I played around with what GG crumbs can do. Granted this was my first shot here, but this crust came out well. My first goal was to make sure the crust stayed together and didn’t give out under the filling. Crumble/collapse free. To my delight, this recipe held up and sliced perfectly into even squares. These are GG crackers; don’t expect them to taste like a flaky, buttery pie crust. I’m not reinventing the wheel, just repurposing it. Play around with your favorite quiche filling, or experiment with making this crust into individual mini quiches. Maybe add finely chopped fresh herbs to the mixture if you’d like (I’d go with parsley or sage). This recipe yields a lot of crust. I used a large 9x13. It was about three quarters of an inch thick. How much you use is up to you, but I wanted you to have the options of making two smaller quiches for variety, or minis. You’ll need; a 9x13 glass baking dish sprayed with non stick spray.

Two packs original GG crackers

Half a cup almond flour

3 egg whites

Half a cup of avocado oil

Half a cup of water

Large onion

2 boxes of frozen chopped spinach

2 boxes of frozen chopped broccoli

Two tbsp ground flax meal

One tbsp country Dijon mustard

2 tsp garlic powder

A quarter cup of finely chopped parsley

1 and a half tsp salt

Half a tsp pepper

A bag and a half of shredded cheese of your choice

2 eggs

Preheat oven to 350. Pulse crackers to coarse crumbs in a food processor. Add other ingredients, adding more oil or water as needed to moisten. Add by the tbsp. Mix until combined. Press crust firmly into bottom and sides of the pan.

Filling: a large white onion, diced and sautéed until fragrant and translucent, two boxes of frozen chopped spinach defrosted and well drained, two boxes of frozen chopped broccoli defrosted. One tbsp country Dijon mustard, 2 tsp garlic powder, a quarter cup of finely chopped parsley, 1 and a half tsp salt, half a tsp pepper, a bag and a half of shredded cheese of your choice, and  two eggs. Mix all ingredients well, pour on crust, and bake about 45 minutes until the cheese starts to turn golden brown. Mini quiches would use less cooking time, check every couple of minutes after 25 minutes.

Listen to Oui- Jeremih

The 🦋 Effect

Who knew that a butterfly print would get me so much use?? This ancient J Crew silk button down seems to go with everything, including this Hawaiian print cardigan. I am a huge fan of a kitschy Hawaiian shirt, so I had to have this palm tree printed sweater from Scotch and Soda. I know of this company for its fabulous kids’ clothes, and I was psyched to come across their adult line. There are retro undertones in this ensemble; the bellbottom jeans that are ubiquitous in my wardrobe, the printed silk shirt, and the 70’s feel of the cardigan in both print and length.  Even the way my hair is styled hints at a throwback. I’m digging the chic mom on the go look. I definitely don’t look this put together when I’m shopping for snacks and soap at Target, but it’s my shoot and I’ll pretend if I want to. I love how this outfit is the perfect layered, transitional look going from Winter to Spring, which thankfully is around the corner. Ladies, try for a longer cardigan instead of a jacket as the weather gets warmer. Short cardigans look ridiculous on me, but this longer version felt more my speed. Stay tuned for Look 2 based on the 🦋 blouse. Repurposing is always the jam. 

Silver Fox

I love this coat. A metallic puffer is nothing new at the moment but whatever. It’s very warm, well structured, has a hood, and is super cute. We can’t always reinvent the wheel. My friend told me his ten year old daughter has the same coat. Again, whatever. Any whimsical black hat looks so cute with this jacket, as well as any black snow boot. My vintage moon boots are the best. I had the helium balloons leftover from my son’s birthday. An easy cute photo. Letting go of balloons is an uncomfortable sensation. One minute you’re holding on to something so joyful and pretty, the next minute they’re floating away from you destination unknown. It’s never easy to let go of something we love, even if it’s an inanimate object. Even balloons are a lesson in non attachment. Watching anyone or anything leave us is hard. Which is why warmth is important, namely inner warmth. The seasons will always change. Cold will always come. Staying insulated is a perspective as well as an outer necessity.

GG Chocolate Raspberry Tart

 This is one of those Jesscipes that I’m super pumped about. It’s one of those awesome “I was futzing around my kitchen and struck gold” kind of ideas. In my recent effort to shave off a few unwelcome pounds, I started with the GG cracker shtick. I’m not on any specific diet, and I generally think those crazy strict nutrition plans are very fear based. Sensible, clean eating is key. That’s really all we need. We don’t have to make ourselves crazy, and we absolutely can responsibly indulge. It’s not so fun to count every calorie, ask others for approval for what we put into our mouths, and berate ourselves for eating too much one day. It’s all ok, it just is. Let’s remove the stress out of food; food is wonderful! That being said, while indulging in dessert tastes good in the moment, it sucks to carry around any mental baggage that may come attached to eating it. Women unfortunately tend to beat ourselves up over stuff like this. That’s why it’s important we find cleaner, healthier sweets that are guilt free. Don’t be deprived or hangry; it’s no way to live. Make this delicious dessert instead! I’d so love your feedback on this one, and would you like to see more recipes like this on the blog? To those of you who text me when you cook something off the blog, or send me pics, I’m so grateful to contribute to feeding your families! Thanks for letting me know, it warms my heart. This tart will delight your palette with its rich flavors while not contributing to any misplaced self hatred or body dysmorphia. Enjoy, Peeps. You work hard, so hard. Please treat yourself and know you deserve it.

Ingredients:

A lightly sprayed tart pan or springform pan with a removable bottom.

2 packs honey GG crackers

1 scoop vanilla protein powder

1 tbsp of smooth almond butter

1/3 cup of melted coconut oil

3 tbsp of sugar free maple syrup by Choc Zero

Lily’s chocolate chips

Raspberries

Preheat oven to 325. In a food processor, pulse two whole packs of honey GG crackers into crumbs. Add 1 scoop of vanilla protein powder, 1 tbsp of smooth almond butter, a 1/3 cup of melted coconut oil, and 3 tbsp of sugar free maple syrup by Choc Zero (I’m guessing agave would work fine too). Pulse until well combined.

Press the mixture firmly into the tart pan and up the sides half an inch. Bake for ten minutes to set the crust. Set aside to cool.

Melt a cup of Lily’s chocolate chips in the microwave for a minute. Spread the melted chocolate on the cooled, firm crust with a spatula. Top with fresh raspberries, gently pressing on the berries to get them to stay.

Cover and freeze until all is firm. Thaw about 45 minutes to an hour before serving. Note; I noticed that after being left out two to three hours, the chocolate was still hard but the crust began to crumble. The bottom crust remained intact but the little fluted edge was apparently more fragile. Just something to keep in mind. This tart sliced really nicely into triangles, but you’ll need a sharp knife to press down firmly. The raspberries totally stayed on, which was my only concern. So there you have it; a delicious, rich dessert that’s packed with fiber and protein. Zero refined sugar, zero flour. 15 minutes of prep time. Enjoy!!!!

Listen to Sexy Love- Ne-Yo

So Which Is It?

 If he tells you it’s love at first sight, is it wildly romantic or too fast?

If he tells his daughter about you within the first week, is it an act of certainty or irresponsibility?

If he shows you off to all his friends (and his friend’s girlfriends), is it flattering or impulsive?

If he has dated a hundred women in a year, was it necessary research or an inability to commit to himself or others?

If he pursued you for three months then fizzles out in three weeks, was it just the thrill of the chase?

If he tells you you’re his angel, his goddess, and his girl, is it sweet or bullshit?

If he writes you incredibly romantic, old fashioned love letters, the kind that are yellowed over time and kept in a shoebox in a closet, tied in a ribbon, then can hardly text you, have you lost your luster or is he unbalanced emotionally?

If you wake up to lengthy “I miss you” texts sent in the middle of the night, is it sweet or obsessive?

If he tells you you’re his only focus and that your voice is the only one he wants to hear, then is suddenly unavailable via phone... Am I naive and too open hearted?

Am I trusting to the point where certain flapping red flags aren’t identified?

No and perhaps. Ya know, I believed and still believe every wonderful thing this guy said to me. I’m not stupid, and I am a feelings ninja. I know when someone is being sincere. I also know my worth and that damn right, I am a goddess that a guy would leave work for in the middle of the day to come hold me for an hour and a half. I am worth telling your friends about if you’re lucky enough to land me, though telling your kid is reckless. I am the one after a hundred others, that would finally draw out this side that had been bottled up in a long, bland, disconnected marriage. Or am I simply the hundred and first?

When he told me, “be gentle with my heart” I listened. I can’t ever not appreciate that level of vulnerability, especially from a man. He just wasn’t gentle with mine, which just makes him a selfish hypocrite. Is it assumed that a plea for emotional gentleness is reciprocal? Yes, right?? Or was I foolish for making such an assumption?

When he told me I’m no longer single and off the market, and started making plans for us for the summer (concerts! The Hamptons!), was it jumping the gun or was it the thought process of a man who knew as soon as he locked eyes with me that I was It?

I know that love and certainty at first sight exists. We hear those stories all the time. I know that he meant it when he told me that first seeing me was “as if the whole room went dark and there was a spotlight on you”. That his requests that I float to him over the Tapan Zee bridge midday were made with genuine urgency. It was real, it was just temporary. It’s very easy for us to see divinity and Source revealed in our lives when things go well. Gratitude comes easily to the joyful. It’s more important and necessary to hold onto appreciating experiences when they’re hard.

So here’s the deal; this guy did pursue me for several months, and that’s a nice feeling.

Lesson 1; being pursued feels good. It shows actual interest. He resurfaced at a time that another idiot had blown me off, and I had truly reached a place where I wanted a break from dating.

Lesson 2; space was cleared to allow this experience into my life, which means it was necessary for me to have it.

Lesson 3; I love the intensity of romantic words and actions. It felt real during the brief time it lasted, and I want to feel that again, only from a stable, consistent person. The pendulum swing that governed this guy’s actions and decisions had zero to do with me.

Lesson 4; knowing this was not my fault. Unlike in the past where I invited unworthy experiences into my life because my self worth and standards were considerably lower, that wasn’t the case here. I arrived at this junction in a very strong place, without the need for a man at all. I had finally, after two years of intensely introspective and spiritual work, reached a point where I was truly comfortable and proud to be single. I just wanted to focus on my own life. Trusting the plan I know the Universe has for me, allowed me to just be still with myself. To not need outside attention or validation. I can make my own plans and be my own date. It is when we let go of how we think things are meant to be that Source has yet another lesson to teach us. And those lessons are often sent in the form of other humans who are unreliable, so that we reinforce the need to rely on ourselves.

Lesson 5; there’s always a lesson.

Lesson 6; though this whole episode was completely confusing and extreme, not once did I fall apart. It was a bit of a struggle at times, bringing to light residual attachment and abandonment issues (it takes a looooong time to clear a pain body), but I never lost my balance. I meditated on my root chakra and imagined myself as an unbreakable oak. The wind can blow and branches can shake, but the trunk remains immovable. I meditated on my water chakra and chose stillness over the rising, evil, crashing mental waves that tried to drown me as my ego watched and laughed from dry land . I lowered my fire chakra and didn’t let the anger at having been treated unjustly burn my foundation to the ground. It is always a challenge in these situations to keep our heart chakra open and airy, and it’s hard for me right now, but I know it’s the only choice. To hold on to the hurt, the unfairness, and the mind fuck is to close down. And to close the heart is to destroy yourself and prevent the beauty of life from entering you once again.

Lesson 7; stay open always, even if you have to pry those gates apart with a will and force you didn’t know you had. Be sad, be confused, be agitated, be scared. Feel it all then send those feelings on their way.  Don’t let them overstay their welcome. Let them wash over you then pass through you.

Lesson 8; admitting all of this isn’t weak, it’s necessary in order to process. Progress only arises from the ability to process.

Lesson 9; we don’t have to understand or make sense of anything, we just have to trust that each experience is leading us to where we are meant to be. An old one but a good one.

Lesson 10; don’t get so caught up in beautiful, romantic, adoring words and actions being thrown at you at lightning speed. Enjoy it, savor it, recognize the good feelings born from it, but stay centered. Balance must not only be maintained during hard times, but during good times as well. Don’t let the ego start frantically gobbling up compliments, only to never be satiated. Don’t lose your reality even as you’re being told you’re the woman of someone’s dreams.

Lesson 11; don’t kick yourself for investing time, emotion, and trust into something like this. It’s all part of the process of being single. Stuff like this is par for the course. Learn from it and grow. Take what you need from each experience then delete the contact.

Lesson 12; consistency is more attractive than hasty cries of love.

Lesson 13; don’t waste another minute thinking about some dude who has probably dated another 100 chicks in the time it took to write this post. He told me he no longer needed therapy. Um...