They Lived Happily Ever After. Eh

I recently finished a fantastic book, “Fleishman is in Trouble” by Taffy Brodesser-Akner. It was recommended to me by my friend Amy, and I’ve shared the love with other like minded readers. This is the first work of fiction I’ve truly enjoyed in quite some time. I have been reading a lot of spiritual books that I love, but few things relax me and rightly engulf me like quality fiction. I need to remember that I’m just happier and less prone to agitation while engrossed in a solid read. It helps keep me balanced and at peace with being still. I’m not a science fiction or mystery gal. Not really historical fiction much either. I love in depth psychological journeys peppered with heavy doses of sarcasm, wit, self deprecation, and brutal honesty about regular people. Social satire is my fave. I love recognizing my own stuff in stories, the stuff people don’t always talk about freely, often because they don’t know how.

This novel is about a middle aged couple getting divorced in New York City. Oh, and they’re Jewish. All the references about the main character’s year abroad in Israel during college delighted me to no end since I remember mine like it was yesterday. The book gets into post divorce dating, an arena that is multi layered. Navigating that realm is like constantly crashing into a series of fun house mirrors. Distorted images of both yourself as well as those you meet and date are par for the course. Very little is as it seems because it takes a very long time, possibly never, to regain any semblance of clarity about yourself. And we only see outwardly as clearly as we see inwardly. Divorce is blinding. Recovery is a process, no matter how well your divorce went. The entire world is literally new. This humorous, very clever book helps those of us in the throes of divorce take our own lives less seriously. We aren’t the first to deal nor will we be the last. It’s good to laugh at ourselves and identify with the hilarious commonalities that come with this next act. We could all benefit from loosening our rigid views of ourselves. It’s all changing anyway.

Potential spoiler alert: the book ends in a way that leaves it to the reader’s imagination as to whether or not the broken couple reunites. I did not want them to get back together, despite the kids, history, and the initial seeds of love that brought them together back in the day. I’m a very romantic thinker and feeler. I’d never describe myself as a cynic. But these were two people who really came to despise each other over time. They each had their reasons which resulted in an unhappy, unhealthy couple who were simply unkind to one another. Their relationship lacked respect, tenderness, and true partnership (like most marriages I’ve personally seen). Not everyone belongs together even if they did at one point. It must be noted that I thought it insane when Sex and the City fans all over the world were dancing in the streets when Big and Carrie became official. I didn’t find that to be a romantic love story at all. I thought it was crazy. HE LEFT HER AT THE ALTER. WITH A BIRD ON HER HEAD. IN THE NEW YORK PUBLIC LIBRARY. It was humiliating, as she railed at him. Carrie also cried, “I knew you would do this!”; how can anyone have thought this was the greatest love story of modern times?? He treated her like shit for years and she knew it. She expected it. None of this sounded like love to me. Would you let your daughter marry a guy she KNEW would leave her??
I have become protective over the enterprise of divorce. It’s very often the healthy, correct move. On both the individual and familial levels. It just very often comes to be that a couple can’t thrive while tethered to each other anymore. Many people are not meant to live every day together. Life is sooooo subject to change. It must and it will. The only certainty in life is change. If a husband and wife can ride out those changes together it’s amazing and beautiful. But if those changes lead to an underlying corrosion of their infrastructure over time, then the rust will take over the mechanism. Things won’t work smoothly, and then quite possibly not at all. A husband and wife who toss contempt back and forth over the children aren’t doing anyone any favors, especially said children. Marriages, as depicted here, can turn into hateful war zones. Passive aggressive warfare is just as damaging. When toxicity is unleashed and both people drain themselves with strategies on how to exist in an unhappy role, it’s probably best in many cases to set each other free. Freedom being the operative word. No one should live unhappily in an environment in which they aren’t respected and cherished, real or fictional.

This book was excellent. I really recommend it. And this particular reader is sticking to her ending of the story in which the main characters went on to flail, heal in messy fits and starts, and find the happiness they each deserved.

Listen to Water Signs- East Forest

Loaded Pumpkin Bread

Yeah yeah, pumpkin spice everything is such a cliche. But that doesn’t mean it’s not genuinely delicious. Pumpkin bread is a Fall season standard. This recipe inspired by Rabbi Gil Marks is packed with dates, golden raisins, walnuts, and all the Fall feels. I brought it to my zen group and they gobbled it up at our last meeting☯️. This recipe can be doubled and made in a ten inch tube or bundt. If I did that, then I’d mix powdered sugar with fresh maple syrup and make a yummy glaze.

Ingredients:

One and a half cups all purpose flour

One tsp baking soda

Half tsp baking powder

Half tsp salt

3/4 tsp cinnamon

Half tsp nutmeg

1/4 tsp ground cloves

1/8 tsp ground ginger or pumpkin pie spice

one cup packed brown or granulated sugar

one cup pure packed canned pumpkin

Half cup vegetable oil

Two large eggs lightly beaten

1/4 cup water

1/2 tsp vanilla

1/3 cup each golden raisins and chopped pitted dates

1/2 cup chopped walnuts.

Preheat to 350. Grease and flour a loaf pan. Sift all dry ingredients together and set aside (not the nuts, dates, raisins).

Mix pumpkin, sugar, oil, eggs, water and vanilla. Add flour mixture at once and stir just to combine. Over mixing makes for a dense cake.

Gently add in nuts, dates, and raisins. Pour into pan and sprinkle with cinnamon and sugar if desired. Bake about one hour until tester emerges clean. Cool in pan for ten minutes and then on a rack. Secret: I have made this lazily in one bowl with no sifting and it was still delicious and moist.

In Bloom

I can’t tell you how amazing I feel in this pretty floral frock. I’d have never put this on a couple years ago. It’s the first time in my life that I’m embracing so much softness, certainly in my wardrobe. I know I’ve written that before, but it really does amaze me that my clothes directly reflect an inner blooming. I still don’t like many floral prints, but the colors here are feminine without being saccharine. The cream mixed with the blush palette, wine, and purple lends both a lightness and richness. The cut is so flattering; short length, tapered waist, cute sleeves, just the right amount of ruffle, and sexy button detailing. It’s an achievement when one piece says a lot. This dress speaks to loving being a girl, which also means knowing our strengths. It’s appealing without being too revealing. It’s a relaxed approach to feeling sexy and womanly. When you are comfortable and secure in your body, your hotness need not always be shouted from the rooftops. I recently wore this with tights and mini cowboy boots, topped with a chunky sweater. Soft florals are versatile in colder seasons with the right adjustments. What’s in bloom may change, but nature is always doin’ something.

Listen to Xavier Rudd-Messages

Leek Vegetable Soup

This soup is the perfect accompaniment to the newly arrived autumn chill. Ribbons of fresh leaks serve as the base, which I suppose makes this a first cousin to onion soup. Unlike onion soup which can be loaded with butter and cheese, this variation has zero carbs and fat. It’s just mounds of fresh vegetables coming together in a hearty, flavorful, filling party. It annoys me when soups are unnecessarily fattening. In my opinion they should act as a healthy way to begin a meal, so that we don’t overdo it on the main selections. I served this in my sukkah during the recent holiday of Sukkot and it delivered big time. Cutting and cleaning leeks can seem like an task but I liked it. I recall needing to methodically chop something the day I made this up. This is one of the ways in which cooking is emotionally soothing, much like soup.

Ingredients:

1/4 cup olive or vegetable oil

Ten medium leeks (2 pounds) trimmed, sliced, and washed well. Leeks are dirty so I washed them before chopping but after I rinsed them really well in a large colander to be sure.

3 medium carrots peeled and grated or a bag of fresh shredded carrots

One bunch chopped fresh parsley

Three tbsp white cooking wine

Two cups packed chopped kale

Two cups sliced baby Bella mushrooms

Ten cups vegetable or chicken broth

Four fresh sprigs of thyme tied tightly in a bouquet garni cloth

1 tsp and a half of salt

1/4 tsp pepper

Heat oil in a large pot and sauté the leeks and carrots until softened and fragrant. Add the wine halfway through the sauté process, several minutes in.

In a separate pan sauté the mushrooms in two tbsp additional oil until tender and fragrant as well. Add the chopped kale to the mushroom sauté and give that another two to three minutes until cooked. Add the broth and mushroom mix to the leek pot. Add the salt and pepper, as well as the parsley and thyme sprigs. Stir to combine. Bring to a boil, cover, lower heat and simmer until tender and combined, 45 minutes. Adjust seasonings to taste.

I loved how the chopped circles of leeks separated into ribbons during the cooking stages. It’s nice when a soup looks attractive in the bowl. Serve with toasted fresh bread rounds if desired. I’d cut a good loaf on the bias, toast the pieces with a drizzle of oil, then top each soup bowl with what is essentially a large crouton🥖.

Morning Would

Every morning he would send me a photograph of the sunrise, taken during his daily run. I’d come back from yoga full of anticipation, knowing what was waiting for me. I had reservations about getting too attached to that ritual but cut myself some slack; enjoying nature with someone is sweet and lovely (though I told myself before picking up my phone, don’t get freaked out if the picture is not there). I loved his consistency with it. I could tell he enjoyed giving me the imagery just as much as he received my reactions. Each sunrise is different and so my descriptions were as well. I gave them thought. I wanted to be as concise as possible with the words I chose, allowing the sun to speak for itself ( and to seem clever). Nature doesn’t need our help to send it’s message. Sometimes the sun was beaming, taking center stage in the sky. Other times it wasn’t ready to come out, and others it had decided to remain unavailable at that hour of day. The sun’s presence is dependable. What is chooses to give to us is in constant flux. The photos took on a metaphorical quality in regards to his and my connection. Often times it was hidden with rays of light poking out through the trees on the golf course he’d run by. It’s not ready yet, I’d write. We both knew what that meant. I said he should make a coffee table book out of these beautifully and sensitively captured pictures. It’s been done before but so what? Almost everything has been done before and yet we keep doing it again anyway. We joked about titles. I suggested “Morning Would”, a play on morning wood with inquisitive undertones; what would your mornings look like if you chose to design them according to your soul’s greatest wishes? How would the sun appear to you in your new world? I never asked these questions out loud. The words were there and didn’t need verbalizing; they took up residence in the air.

There were colors to play with; orange, pink, gray, blue, gold. The sun has moods too. He knows what he wants to wear. He makes choices. Different light and cloud patterns invited the possibility for new thought and action patterns, desired but not ready to be taken. One day it was completely hidden. My description was “it’s waiting”. He texted back, “how long am I going to have to wait?” I haven’t decided if I have been the sole recipient of such photos from him, or if it’s a move. I think they’re just for me, an error in judgment I often have, but this time I do think so. When the sun shines on us, filling us with warmth, don’t we feel as if it came to find us? That’s it’s power; to shine over the entire planet yet have such incredible individual effect. Like how that song on the radio was somehow written for you, even though you’ve never met the lyricist.
Taking the message from the images of when the sun would rest behind a thick wall of gray clouds, I made the painful choice to not communicate with him right now. I knew I wasn’t going to get my beloved sunrise photo today. I had prepped myself for it both last night and during yoga, but part of me still had a glimmer of hope it would be there. It wasn’t and I was ok. I still got up and did my thing, with far more resilience than in previously similar times. How fitting that today the sky is dark gray. As I was driving by a stretch of patchy sky, I thought, the sun is still here whether or not he sends me a photo. It’s still here and I can still see it. So much of life is unpredictable. Nature reminds us that change and stability are always in a dance. What would my mornings look like if I could choose? I’d choose to work with whatever is revealed to me that day, allowing for and loving the messages we are always being sent. To stay steady amongst all the fluctuations of life. To never lose faith that the sun has not abandoned me.

Devil in a Blue Dress

Ridiculous title considering how sweet and delicious this outfit is. This is one of my prettiest purchases from the end of the summer. I never thought I’d feel so great in this style and cut, and I’m so happy that I’ve come to feel so at home in this hippie, fairy, barefoot vibe. The Love Shack Fancy mood is always so on point; sexy, feminine, romantic, and truly effortless. Their ads are the kind regular chicks like me salivate over, wondering if I’ll ever actually look like that in real life. I have to say that the clothing does look that way in actuality. The frothy, pastel, confections have me feeling as delicious as a macaron from Laduree.

The high waist cut and ruffle straps that tend to slip down off the shoulders is a one piece wonder. It’s an instant look by itself. The hand knit, chunky cardigan with the vintage rose buttons is such a refreshing change from the denim/motorcycle jacket vibe that I’ve always relied on. This look goes best with bare feet, an added bonus for this gal. This outfit for me through the Jewish holidays for the festive meals. I felt like a princess until I ate too much challah.

Teriyaki Tofu Bowl 🥬🍜

In my quest to feed my newly vegetarian college age daughter, I’ve been experimenting with these tofu bowl situations. She’s not the biggest vegetable eater so it’s not the easiest to find vegetarian meals for her. But I do love a culinary challenge. And yay; she likes bok choy!

These bowls are fun to make. Healthy and clean with a nice serving of tofu as the protein. It is pretty the way the components are nestled next to each other, especially with that hit of bright green. Color is hugely important in cooking and not just visually. Each color contains different vitamins and nutrients. Thank you, Mother Nature! Heads up with this one: I can’t give you exact measurements. I’m sorry, I know that’s annoying unless you’re like me and measure with your gut and eyes. The bright side is that you really can’t get this wrong. I will try to throw some in as I type (how’s that for honesty?).

Ingredients:

One pack extra firm tofu cut into inch and a half pieces. She likes it cut but you could just cook the whole thing and serve that one large piece. Tofu baffles me as an entity.

Four heads baby bok choy cut in half lengthwise. Before slicing lengthwise, cut the bottom of each piece off horizontally. You’ll notice that it looks like a pretty rosette! Def use those for garnish. They’re way too cute to dispose of. You can even steam them for a few minutes to make the garnish more edible.

Brown rice noodles cooked to package directions.

Quality teriyaki sauce

Brown rice vinegar

Toasted sesame oil, hot chili sesame oil or a pinch crushed red pepper flakes (optional; my daughter likes it spicy)

Mirin which is Asian rice cooking wine, and toasted sesame seeds.

Optional garlic powder.

Place the tofu pieces in a bowl. Drizzle generously with teriyaki sauce (three tbsp), a tbsp of the sesame oil, and a half tsp or a whole tsp of the hot chili sesame oil or a pinch of the red pepper flakes, taste depending. I also add a nice sprinkling of garlic powder. Shake the bowl gently to distribute the sauce. Add more if needed to make your marinade. Set aside turning once gently.

Prepare rice noodles. These cook fast. Rinse with cold water when done. Put in a medium to large bowl that can be your serving bowl too. I just drizzle the noodles with maybe 4 tbsp teriyaki sauce, probably two tbsp brown rice vinegar, two tbsp sesame oil and mix. You could combine these in a small bowl before pouring on the noodles. Yeah, do that . Let the noodles marinate while you cook the tofu.

Heat half olive and half sesame oil in a large pan with a lid. Add each tofu piece giving them a drop of breathing room. Pour the marinade on top. Cover with lid for several minutes to steam. Remove lid and finish this uncovered. We are aiming for a nice brown glaze. Keep your Mirin wine on hand. This is a fabulous product that’s essential for Asian cooking. As the pan gets dry deglaze it with Mirin. Start with a tbsp. Shake pan so pieces don’t stick. Cook five minutes on each side flipping very gently. I use two spoons. Sauté bok choy in a tbsp of sesame oil until soft, just a couple minutes. Arrange each component next to the rice noodles. Sprinkle with a generous amount of sesame seeds. Chopsticks 🥢 add to the fun, yet I myself can’t seem to figure out how to use them. Seriously. I know how to scoop a bagel though 🥯.

Mini Skirt Black Shirt

I had zero clever title ideas but at least there’s a rhyme here? This white denim Marc Jacobs mini skirt is 16 years old at least. It always looks so fresh and of the moment, no matter what moment I’m wearing it in. There have been times it didn’t fit me but I’m glad I kept it. That’s a good lesson in not letting the shots of low self esteem that we all have dictate our impulses. If it makes me feel bad it must be banished!!!

The grommet detailing here is what makes the skirt so cool. I liked pairing it with a black button down; the menswear feel gave some balance to the sexy playfulness of the skirt. The shirt worked because the studs on it keep the thread of hardware consistent. Consistency in fashion is not a given. It’s needed on a case by case basis. But usually there is some underlying something tying in all the pieces. I’m also a fan of balancing out how much skin is revealed. It look silly, especially at 41, to parade around in skimpy pieces top to bottom. This is my personal opinion for myself, and wasn’t written to impose my beliefs on anyone else. I also dig the flare shape of the skirt; it’s fun, forgiving, and flattering. Those three F’s are a great fashion guideline✔️✔️✔️.

Listen to Roots- Double Trouble

Yom Kippur 2019

A couple weeks ago my son had a Hebrew vocabulary test on root words. One of the words was “kapar”, cleanse. I was thinking of tricks to help him remember the definitions. For this one I told him to think of Yom Kippur, since that’s a day of cleansing. I’ve associated Yom Kippur with more of a purification concept and this added meaning stayed in my mind when the holiday rolled around. Cleansing and purifying are spiritual fraternal twins in their similar purpose. One is required to usher in the second. First you must wipe away the grime before dipping the item in gold. Neither word felt particularly fitting to me as I pondered the services this year.
I actually enjoyed our synagogue’s services this year. We had a great cantor who used a wide range of Yiddish, Hebrew, and contemporary tunes. Backed by a choir, he threw his entire person into his job. His dedication and enthusiasm was palpable. I always find comfort in having the same seat every year next to my best friends. I made a beautiful pre fast meal for my whole family and it felt so nice being together as we were about to embark on this highest of holidays. One of my required reading books for my zen training is The Energy of Prayer by Tich Naht Hahn. I took that to synagogue with me and mostly read that. It’s a small book that taught me a lot. I’ve been praying since I was able to speak, but not at all in the way described in this book, which focuses on the energy and intention of our innate goodness and how it can be harnessed during prayer. Bringing the book was a good way to keep me centered on the task at hand; connection to God. I did say some of the traditional prayers and as always I read the English. I used to read it out of boredom. This time I read it because if I’m going to pray I want to do it wisely and selectively. What I read kind of bummed me out. In one of the prayers literally every other word was “judgement”. Every other word. I felt suffocated just reading it. In our current vernacular being “non judgmental” is having a moment. To judge is to commit a social crime. If a man judges he’s a jerk, a woman a bitch (especially a woman!). To judge implies you are a patronizing, close minded, holier than thou offensive person. Judgement is uncomfortable for all involved. It immediately causes tremendous separation in that it creates the roles of the judge and the judged. You need both these characters to fit this narrative. In short, it’s a divide. Judgement creates a gap that’s filled with shame, frustration, and self loathing. It always carries the inherent message of unquestionable wrong doing. It is almost impossible to feel close to someone who is judging you and overcome that divide. Imagine if we called our kids into the living room once a year and read them a long list of all the ways they’ve completely screwed up. If we sat in judgement of every single move and transgression made over the past 12 months. And that we might forgive them if they did certain things. I say “might” because the ultimate punishment of death is being held over our guilty, hungry heads and people die every year, sometimes actually on Yom Kippur. So essentially this formula of atonement is by no means a guarantee. And if it’s not a guarantee then what’s the point of putting such grave importance on this one day? I love the holidays and have no issue with a fast day. Sure, it’s super unpleasant and in my opinion all it accomplishes is everyone complaining about how hungry they are. I know zero people who view fasting as cleansing. I’m sure they exist but I personally haven’t met them. It’s pretty funny that throughout all the Jewish holidays everyone is either whining about the excess of food or the lack thereof. Food just can’t win with us.
Back to the prayer book, which seems to be filled with detailed lists of how we all suck as humans and as Jews. In it God is painted as the most unforgiving and frightening version of Judge Judy. In one prayer it said how Hashem remembers every single thing each of us has ever done. Every sin both in thought, word, and deed. I don’t know, Man, but when I was reading this I felt like why bother? Let’s be real; most of what we are atoning for we are going to do all over again. Take sins regarding food. Let’s assume the rabbis were referring to eating non kosher. Non kosher has numerous meanings. There are so many different laws, customs, and interpretations on what’s kosher that it’s dizzying. How could we really know who disobeyed these laws when most of the customs stemmed from different towns in Eastern Europe? It was all just human interpretation. It’s impossible to decide what God meant by that yet we are assuming we screwed it up. The list of our failings is really depressing. Reading it I felt like I didn’t do anything right in the eyes of rabbinic law, despite my knowing I’m a good person who tries so hard to live right.
In Buddhist psychology and meditation practice we learn to not attach to our thoughts. To discern between what are skillful thoughts vs unskillful. Will this thought help me or hurt me? Is this thought true or not? Usually they’re not. The point being to not attach to our thoughts since they are passing mental phenomena. Let them float by like clouds. Clouds are neither wrong nor right, they just are what they are. Judging our thoughts as wrong or bad causes mental anguish. But here we are on Yom Kippur praying how we have sinned in thought. That is the opposite of striving towards mental non attachment. It’s giving heavy weight to all the shitty, destructive thoughts we had. We can’t outrun them because God knows what we were thinking. We must strike our chests and starve ourselves to make up for normal human thought patterns. Honestly, we don’t need punishment; we need help and understanding. Instead of that alienating living room scene in which we tell our children what disappointments they are, we all know it would be kinder and more strategic to help them improve with calm guidance. When any authority figure shows us love we are naturally driven to do better. We rise to the occasion when given the benefit of the doubt. We plummet and shame spiral when we are dissected. I wasn’t angry reading the Hebrew prayers, but I felt sad and frustrated that the message on this most important Day of Cleansing is designed to make us feel so dirty.
Setting aside a day to focus on our spiritual connection is beautiful in theory. Having our parole officer and the grim reaper waiting to pounce isn’t. Are we lying to both ourselves and God just to get the bagel? Are we really planning on inner self improvement or an external law that’s open to interpretation(or neither)? Are we doing any of this so we don’t get struck by lightning or so that we can make money? Well, if we are then we are doomed anyway since God has been keeping a tally of our thoughts. As always I maintain God wants his children to be close to him. He didn’t make us just so he could criticize us. He wouldn’t tell us to cleanse since if he made us in his image as it says in the Torah, then within each of us lies this sparkling gem that needs no polishing. I don’t believe he delights in reminding us how impure we are. We are human and we lose our way. Over and over and over. One day of self loathing won’t change that but a lifetime of self loving can prove to be incredibly powerful. Maybe what needs cleansing is our entire approach to this potentially connective day.

Listen to Jack Johnson- Better Together

Clarity is a Skill

I read this last week and it blew my mind. When four little words strung together make such an impact that’s a powerful thing. I can be both proud of my utter clarity at times and blown away by my lack there of during others. Someone can confide in me and I can assess the situation accurately from afar, and then I’ll be practically staring at another set of facts and miss the mark entirely. I recently was faced with a situation that most people with half a brain would have fled from. Um, so I can’t find my shoes but am just going to bolt now anyway...; that kind of fleeing. Of course we all know it’s easier to have clarity when we aren’t personally involved or entrenched. When we are in the middle of a scenario we will always unconsciously bring our deeply ingrained stories into the mix. We make up false realities based on old unmet needs, and assumptions based on transference and projections. It’s a mess that creates a fog that we can’t see through. When I do eventually wake up, and this can take months or years, and I’m standing on the other side of the wall, it’s astounding to me what I did not see. Whether we aren’t actually seeing it or are refusing to see it are also things that we need to get curious about. But I take great comfort in learning that clarity is a skill that we can work to develop. It’s never hopeless; you’re not a blind dummy and neither am I. We aren’t stupid or delusional. We just haven’t learned how to hone this skill. Btw, I often struggle with which pronouns to use: I or We. I don’t ever mean to assume you have the same crap that I do, though it’s part of the human condition so chances are you do. I usually pick the royal “we” to avoid making this The Jessica Show, not in order to drag you into anything. As a reader I like the “we” since I find the collective to be a comfort. We are all in this together and can all help each other. I like knowing I’m being helped. See? Even my seemingly simple pronoun choices are loaded with personal narratives. It feels unavoidable since our unconscious unawareness is so deeply embedded. Our habits of missing truth stems from so many things, but they are all things we have the power to bring to the surface and examine. As we examine them we begin to gain a clarity that is empowering. It feels very good to engage wisely in situations. As I’m writing this I’m faced with a situation. I know exactly what my unconscious patterning wants to do and I know exactly what my truth is telling me. I know the right move and the wrong move. I know what my ego is saying vs what my spirit guides are saying. You should know I’m talking about whether or not to text someone. That’s how intense these battles for clarity can be, over the most minor things. I am clear this man and I don’t have a future. Last week I was not. There was literally a huge neon billboard on the West Side Highway with the words “kosher, sustainable, and available” that must have been written about me (not the new free range chicken being sold at Fairway). I told him that this sign was a sign, so part of me was clear while other more powerful forces shut that clarity down. When we aren’t seeing life clearly we are in this myopic trance based on need and lack. We spin reality in numerous directions based on how we need it to be, not how it just is. That’s why when the spiritual teachers talk about resting in the Is-ness it’s not easy. We don’t want what is, we want it to be different. They don’t say it’s easy; they have come to know this because they are human too. It’s not easy so we run from it. But then we wind up back at square one which never feels good long term, often not in the short term either. Clarity is so necessary to be fully alive. There’s no way around that. I found it tremendously comforting to know I can practice getting clearer on clarity. If two people can see the same thing so differently, then obviously our views are subjective. We make ourselves the subject to a staggering degree even when it has nothing to do with us. Clarity has very little to do with actual vision. It’s not eye based. All our sense abilities should be done with our whole bodies. Seeing with our entire being, with your heart and your gut, is what helps lift the fog. Questions are an essential part of this practice. What am I not seeing but know is real? Why am I not seeing this clearly? How am I robbing myself of clarity at this moment? Why does my patterning need to turn a blind eye? How am I killing this experience by refusing to bring clarity? These are all similar inquiries that are all intended to start to chisel away at our hysterical blindness. It’s crucial to not berate ourselves for any of this. That too isn’t seeing clearly; that it’s not your fault and it’s human nature. To examine and notice without judgement is a life altering practice. Ok, this is here. Whatever it is that arose so will also fall away. Both clarity and it’s opposite are also states of impermanence. We are never stuck but only if we commit to learning how to gain new insight. The truth is clear, it’s we who are not. But we can get there with dedication and patience. Honoring the space between observation and reactivity is necessary, giving ourselves time to pause and adjust our glasses. Medically I have 20/20 vision. Spiritually we all do. Mentally and emotionally most of us are blind. But it’s clear that to begin to change is just to make a choice, and to make it over and over again. The best part is is that unlike most learned skills like knitting or judo, this one is already within. It’s not an outside job. You may need a teacher, I have many, but the ability to see clearly was gifted to you at birth. Polish it well and see your reflection. Truth is always there, waiting to be seen.

Charred🍆 🌶Dip w Fresh 🥔Chips

This easy, fresh dip was so satisfying to make. I’m a tactile lady and it felt good to really use my little hands to work with the eggplants. Broiled or roasted eggplants are a staple in any variation of the Mediterranean diet. They are a hearty vegetable, yet light at the same time. This Martha Stewart inspired recipe is the perfect dip for a party. I added some roasted red pepper to enhance the flavors. Toast points, crudités, or fresh potato chips like I made here are all beautiful accompaniments. Country bread too. Serve two or three homemade dips of varying colors for a lovely, farm to table presentation.

Ingredients:

Two small to medium eggplants

Two minced garlic cloves

Two to three tbsp fresh lemon juice

1/2 tsp each smoked paprika and cumin plus more to adjust as needed

Handful chopped fresh parsley

Large red pepper cut into quarters

Two large red skin potatoes and a large sweet potato sliced very thin on a mandolin or by hand

Heat broiler with each six inches from heat source. Prick eggplants all over with a fork. Cut the eggplants in half lengthwise. Rub the halves with good olive oil, the red pepper too. Broil on a rimmed baking sheet until are soft and charred. The pepper will take faster, until it’s starting to blacken. When the is cool remove the skins and dice into small pieces. When the eggplants are cool enough to handle, remove those skins too into a medium bowl. Stir in all the other ingredients and add more lemon juice and spices to taste. Salt and pepper to taste too. Add parsley right before serving. Drizzle with a little oil as well. *While the are cooking in the initial stage, fry the 🥔potato slices in vegetable or canola oil until golden brown and crispy. Drain these fresh chips on paper towels and use to scoop the dip. Yum right???

Tribal Fashion

Nope, not busting out the leopard and zebra prints here. Tribal is the name of a fashion company I recently collaborated with for Fall. They were lovely to work with. They generously sent me three pieces, all of which I really enjoy as separates or together, as shown here. These jeans are super comfortable. They have stretch in them so they mercifully came on effortlessly. How much does it suck to fight with your jeans??? The cute red racing stripe up the sides are a great detail. The slightly cropped distressed ankle is the perfect length and tapering. I hadn’t worn a ribbed shirt since the 90’s, and the cream top they sent me was soooo yummy. Fitted but not tight, and very soft. Def a new staple. The piece de resistance here is this oversized, super cozy sweater. It’s literally like wearing the most delicious blanket. It would look so cute over a mini dress with tights and boots, or over a tank top or turtleneck with leather pants and motorcycle boots. Sweaters like this are essential for Fall. There’s nothing yummier than perfect sweater weather and some form of pumpkin spice bullshit.

Listen to Heart- Alone

Shifting

Marc Jacobs has been one of my favorite designers for decades. He always gets it right. This vintage inspired shift is 13 years old. I haven’t worn it in years. It reminds me of Jackie O. hosting a casual bbq on the Kennedy compound. Let’s just say my casual bbq’s look... different. I have to be in a certain mood for this look, which is ok. My body had to feel a certain way for me to embrace this style and cut. There’s no way it fits the same as it did 13 years ago. That’s not a bad thing since I prefer my physique now, but of course all things change. Shapes shift. But this lil frock sho is cute. I love the button detail at the top. They’re not working buttons so they are just an embellishment. Retro sunnies are required here to keep the mood consistent. What I’m really digging here is the hair. The deep side part with a clip is a style I also haven’t worn in years. When it works it works! Def check out your wardrobes and hunt for pieces you haven’t hugged in awhile. Perhaps it’s time to reacquaint yourselves. Most likely they’ve been waiting for a little love .

Shiva Doesn’t Sit Well With Me

I am an adept social creature. There’s almost no social situation I feel awkward in. The one I just do not handle well is the shiva call, the visit to a Jewish house of mourning. I have given this a lot of thought. After all, people are always dying and a shiva house follows that. “Shiva” has the root word of “shev” which means “sit”. The mourners sit on low chairs for one week immediately following the funeral. The number seven in Hebrew is “sheva”. There’s ample time to pay respects, if you live locally you have a whole week. More often than not I miss the boat. I just don’t go. This is unlike me; I am clear on the right thing to do and I’m not the type to make excuses, though I find myself doing so in this case. It’s odd how I have dropped the ball on this so many times. I acknowledge that it’s wrong, and in asking myself why I suck at shiva, I’ve come up with some possible reasons.

The first reason is that I can’t stand that visiting a grieving family in our community has become just another thing to check off on a to do list. I often feel it’s an extremely disingenuous endeavor. It, like so many other supposed acts of kindness, seem to have almost nothing to do with the recipient. I hate the idea of using a death to pat oneself on the back. That being said, my opinion on the matter is irrelevant. The mourners usually do like visitors and remember who made the effort and who didn’t. Apparently shiva visits make a lasting impression and are noted and appreciated. The family isn’t concerned with the motives of the visitors. Point being, if a loss has been suffered I need to do what is right for the bereaved. Shiva houses can feel like overwhelming social scenes. Saturday nights in particular are especially raucous and out of control. It can feel like a party, and that makes me uncomfortable too. Again though, who cares what I think? I don’t want the person sitting shiva to have to make chit chat with me. They just buried a loved one, the last thing they should have to do is fill awkward silence that my presence has now caused. I have no idea how people sit shiva. Many like it since it affords them the healing opportunity to tell and hear stories, pass around old photos, and see how the person they lost was loved and valued. For the other half who loathe sitting there performing a weeklong monologue, I have to believe it’s excruciating. Being stared at and pitied like a sick tiger in a cage. I hate making chit chat on the best of days. I cannot fathom hosting hundreds of people when I’ll probably want to retreat to a dark room alone. I feel intensely uncomfortable adding to anyone’s resistance to receiving visitors. I could go and sit there quietly but then I feel like I’m not doing anything comforting. Then there’s listening to the cringeworthy comments and questions directed to the mourners. No one knows what to say, no one, and so the most asinine words come tumbling out of people’s mouths. It’s like hearing terrible stand up comedy land with a thud. You’re trapped and squirming. Then there’s the goodbyes which usually consist of the visitors wishing the mourners “may you only know health and happiness here on in”. Of course I know this is said with good intent, but I cannot stand it because it’s impossible and unrealistic. People will continue to die, get sick, and suffer tragedies. It’s the nature of life. To wish only happiness and health sounds like bullshit because it is. It’s a childish fantasy that can’t possibly be helpful to someone in the throes of misery. It’s sending the message that what they’re going through shouldn’t be happening. That’s just not supportive since the reality is that it did happen. How can they begin to accept it when they’re hearing about how to resist reality on replay? And all the poor mourners can do is say thank you. The whole thing feels out of whack to me. I need to either make peace with it or just show up anyway. I hate doing anything just because it’s the social norm, but I guess like anything else if I go with the right intent and energy then it will be ok. Just like I don’t want my presence to add to anyone’s discomfort, so too would I not want my absence to be an insult to someone suffering a major loss. It’s always a good thing to examine where our own personal discomfort lies. Sitting with our own issues and inquiries is what helps us be of service to others, whether we like it or not.

Parsnip Latkes

I made mashed parsnips last week with turkey meatloaf, as a healthier alternative to mashed potatoes. I thought they were delicious. My daughter thought eh, so I had leftovers to play around with. These latkes were a result she loved. Still more diet friendly than potato latkes, and certainly more creative. The parsnips have built in flavor since I boiled them in vegetable stock prior to mashing. Great trick to infuse flavor.

Ingredients:

4 large parsnips or 6 medium, peeled and cut into one inch chunks

Two eggs

3 to 4 tbsp quinoa flour

Salt, and pepper, garlic powder

Box of vegetable stock

Vegetable oil or good frying oil (canola, safflower).

Boil the stock or a pot of salted water. Add cut parsnips and boil until tender enough to mash but not soggy mush. Drain parsnips and put in a large bowl. Mash, leaving some chunky texture if desired. Add eggs, quinoa flour, enough that the mixture is dry enough to withstand being shaped without falling apart. Season with salt, pepper, and garlic powder. Start with less then taste and adjust seasonings. Heat 1/4 cup oil well in a large frying pan. Shape into small patties and dry until golden brown on each side, a couple minutes each side. Flip gently but swiftly with a spatula. Drain in single layers on paper towels to remove excess oil. These would be nice with a dollop of sour cream or fresh guacamole on top. I like them as is. Enjoy!