There Has to Be More to Life

picture from a card

This morning on my way into work, I began talking to a coworker/friend who has a daughter in the 4th grade. She shared with me that the daughter was having a meltdown this morning over what to wear to school. She was crying and "hormonal" (yes - girls as young as 9 and 10 are getting their periods now because of, probably, the unecessary growth hormones we add to milk and other foods) and claiming that none of the clothes that fit her last week fit her today. My friend shared with me that the new trend for "skinny jeans" and "skinny pants" leave her daughter feeling fat and too big. This story broke my heart. And it makes me want to scream at whoever pronounced skinny jeans as the new trend. At age 9, instead of thinking about what cool science project she can come up with for the science fair about how to make things blow up in a chemical reaction via baking soda and whatever else, she is worried about her thighs. Instead of reading a book about pirates or samurai swords or 18th century London, she is worried about looking good in skinny jeans. I want MORE for society, MORE for 4th grade girls. And in turn I do believe there would be MORE for everyone if we had a nation of confident, driven girls who were encouraged to discover who they were on the inside and learn how to love themselves rather than encouraged to see themselves as mere mannequins, constantly despising themselves for what they look like on the outside.

I chose this picture because I feel it encapsulates a lot of what girls and women in society go through today with regards to self-esteem, self-worth, self-hatred, body image, etc etc. - sometimes it feels like we are holding up a mountain with our bare hands. Trying to control everything. Trying to keep this massive boulder (of what? fear? rejection? loneliness?) from falling on us and smashing us into compote. The saddest thing about all of this is that I don't think it's the boys who hurt us, but OTHER girls. Friends. Peers. Family. I'm not sure why this is? I'd love to hear your opinions about it.

At its core though, the issue boils down to the disconnect between the spiritual/divine (the unchangable goodness and wholeness that we cannot see with eyes or or taste or smell but have to feel from within) and the material world of things, food, images, clothes, bodies, nature, tangible objects that constantly change. Our job is to marry these two (the divine and the material world) as they are both necessary, wonderful and interdepedent.

"So many "perfect" girls were raised entirely without organized religion, and the majority of the rest of us experienced 'spirituality' only in the form of mandatory holiday services with a big-haired grandmother...Overlay our dearth of spiritual exploration with our excess of training in ambition... and you have a generation of godless girls... raised largely without a fundamental sense of divinity. In fact, our worth in the world has always been tied to our looks... not the amazing miracle of mere existence." - Courtney E. Martin (via, Women, Food and God by Geneen Roth)

And where does food come into all of this?

"Women turn to food when they are not hungry because they are hungry for something they can't name: a connection to what is beyond the concerns of daily life. Something deathless, something sacred. But replacing the hunger for divine connection with Double Stuf Oreos is like giving a glass of sand to a person dying of thirst. It creates more thirst, more panic. Combine the utter inefficiency of dieting with the lack of spiritual awarenss and we have generations of mad, ravenous, self-loathing women. We have become so obsessed with getting rid of our obsession, with riding on top of our suffering and ignoring its inherent message, that we lose the pieces of ourselves waiting to be found beneath it. But fixing ourselves is not the same as being ourselves. The real richness of obsession lies in the effible stillness, the irrefutable wholeness, that is found in turning toward its source." - Geneen Roth, Women, Food and God

And how do we feel a connection to the divine? By knowing it's in us. In all of us. In everything. Always. It permeates throughout, weaved through the atmosphere, soaked into everything - the way salt dissolves in a glass of water and no longer becomes just salt or just water, but saltwater. There is no "out there" divinity and internal sinfulness, or internal divinity and out there sinfulness. Goodness and the divine is inherent in everything around you and within you.

Orange You Glad?

sunset last night

Last night the sky exploded into the craziest color palette I've ever seen. As I was just sitting on the couch, I noticed a pink-orange glowing color spilling into the white corners of our small apartment and when I looked out of the window, I saw why. The sky was on fire and immediately my brain tried to pin down the colors with words - "crimson," "calypso orange" "raspberry orange sherbert" - and it reminded me of last week when my brother, my mom and I were driving to the outlets and saw a similarly crazy colored sunset and began rattling off descriptive words. Even though I don't live far from him, it made me miss my brother. And my sister (who lives 5 minutes from where I work so there is really no excuse for me not to see her.) But I still miss living with them, sharing a small bathroom with them and seeing them every day. They are home to me. And the song "Orange Sky" by Alexi Murdoch could not be a more perfect fit. Orange you glad to have people you love so much that you miss them to bits?

Orange Sky by Alexi Murdoch

Well I had a dream
I stood beneath an orange sky
Yes I had a dream
I stood beneath an orange sky
With my brother standing by
With my brother standing by
I said brother, you know you know
It's a long road we've been walking on
Yes it is, yes it is, you know
Brother it is,
Such a long road we've been walking on
Oh brother, oh brother

And I had a dream
I stood beneath an orange sky
With my sister standing by
With my sister standing by
Said here is what I know now sister
Here is what I know now
Goes like this...
In your love, my salvation lies
In your love, my salvation lies
In your love, my salvation lies
In your love, in your love, in your love

Oh but you know I am so weary

And you know my heart,

My hearts been broken now

Sometimes, sometimes

My mind is too strong to carry on

Too strong, too strong to carry on

But when I'm alone

When I've thrown off the weight of this crazy stone

When I've lost all care for the things I own

That's when I miss you, that's when I miss you

You are my home

You are my home now

Here is what I know now brother

Here is what I know now sister

Goes like this...

In your love, my salvation lies

In your love, my salvation lies

In your love, my salvation lies

In your love, my salvation lies

In your love, my salvation lies

In your love, my salvation lies

In your love, my salvation lies

In your love, in your love, in your love

Well I had a dream

I stood beneath an orange sky

With my brother and my sister standing by

With my brother and my sister standing by now

With my brother and my sister standing

Alice in Wonderland by UlaFish via Books, Paper, Scissors

"She generally gave herself very good advice, (though she very seldom followed it)”

~ Lewis Caroll, "Alice's Adventures Adventures in Wonderland"

God Speaks in Flowers

It is never more clear to me that God exists than when I see flowers. Summer may be ending, but it doesn't mean we have to let go of that summertime feeling in our souls. When your soul gets chilly, listen to this Leddra Chapman "Summer Song" and spend a little moment being thankful for the seasons. 

You Are Not Your Thoughts

"The beginning of freedom is the realization that you are not the possessing entity
- "the thinker". Knowing this enables you to observe the entity. The moment you
 start watching the thinker, a higher level of consciousness becomes activated.
You then begin to realize that there is a vast realm of intelligence beyond thought,
that thought is only a tiny aspect of that intelligence. You also realize that all
the things that truly matter -- beauty, love, creativity, joy, inner peace -- arise
from beyond the mind. You begin to awaken."

-Eckhart Tolle, author of "The Power of Now" and "A New Earth".

Did you Know?

Did you know that is a picture of the train station in East Torresdale? Did you know that that's near New Jersey? Did you know that across from the train station there's a restaurant called the Three Monkey Cafe? Did you know they have a little outdoor seating area called Monkey Court? (And no, that's not going to be my new nickname although it fits.) I didn't know any of this either, until I accidentally took the wrong train home to Trenton last night and practically tripled my usual 45 minute commute to an hour and a half.

Did you know that I've been taking the same train for 3 years now? (Sad.)

Did you know that for the entire hour ride they kept anouncing stops that should have been clear to me were not places I had ever heard of before in my entire lifetime? (Very sad.)

Did you know that you have to pass through miles and miles and miles of trash mountains and industrial waste piles to get to Trenton? (Actually sad.)

Did you know that I was too busy reading an article in my yoga magazine to notice that hello, I wasn't in Kansas anymore? (Not sure if this is sad, hilarious or ironic. Or all three.)

Did you know that I wasn't really all that upset by getting lost and tripling my commute time but that what really threw me over the edge was getting bit by a mosquito at the East Torresdale station? It's the little things that get us.

"It isn't the mountain ahead that wears you out —

 it's the grain of sand in your shoe."

Homegrown

Flowers from the garden

Grilled chicken with dad's home-made pesto sauce with the basil he grew

On Sunday night I ate dinner at my parent's house and enjoyed a simple meal of home-made pesto pasta with grilled chicken and a salad. My dad made the pesto and chicken, I made the salad and my mom prepared a little bouquet of flowers from her garden in my great grandmother's blue vase. It sounds perfectly rustic, effortlessly chic and so Martha Stewart doesn't it? Well I guess it sort of was, if Martha Stewart's home also has issues with ants and if she eats her perfectly made meals in her pajamas and leaves the dishes dirty while digging into her "thrown together" meal. But the whole thing could not have been more spontaneous, easy or lovely. Nothing was forced or prepared. I noticed my dad's overflowing pot of basil and suggested he use it. We thawed some chicken, used up some veggies for a salad, boiled some pasta. And the flower arrangement? Well while gardening in her sweats my mom decided to FINALLY pick some of the flowers and enjoy the fruits of her and my dad's sweat-filled summer labors. (The two of them can make a yard look like a magical, secret oasis.)

This past weekend was a special weekend for two reasons. Not only did it mark the 10 year anniversary of 9/11, but it also marked the 28 year anniversary of my parent's marriage. (There is no correlation. And luckily, my parent's were married September 10.) Sometimes that is just the way life works: tragedy and beauty coinciding side by side. Loss and growth. I don't think I will ever understand the full extent of what that it meant to be in New York that fateful day or what it meant to lose someone so violently and so abruptly. Nor will I ever fully understand what it means  to have "28 years of marriage" under my belt - until I have been married for 28 years myself. I am only 23 (ahem, 23 and a half thank you very much as of tomorrow) and I don't think I have even been able to commit to a favorite color for that long - let a lone a person. The miracle of my parents staying together is actually no miracle at all. I think they put a lot of work into their marriage but to some extent (and this is what they always tell me whenever I ask them what their secret to being married is) they just married the right person. I don't know what that means. Or how you know. Or how you make it work. I guess I am not supposed to know these things yet. But I do know this: they make each other laugh, they both have faith in God, my dad is 100% committed to my mom and my mom is 100% committed to my dad. And they both honor and value the institution of family above all else. I love those two so darn much and feel immeasurably and unspeakably thankful that I am homegrown from their able arms and careful hands.

When I look back at drawings I did as a child there is one theme in all of my pictures that I drew of my family. Besides the strange stick figure drawings of my family (and my mom with yellow hair) there is always a consistent theme: we are all standing together (love), there is a couch (comfort), there is a sun (warmth), there is a tree (stability and growth) and a window (perspective). My parents have always provided and continue to provide those things to me and my siblings through their commitment to one another. And in honor of September 11, more than anything, I am just glad I have both parents that are alive and breathing and still walking this earth.