Yeah. What He Said.

"People are itchy and lost and bored and quick to jump at any fix. Why is there such a vast self-help industry in this country? Why do all these selves need help? They have been deprived of something by our psychological culture. They have been deprived of the sense that there is something else in life, some purpose that has come with them into the world."

James Hillman, "From Little Acorns: A Radical New Psychology"

Get in the Friggin' Moment Already!

This is how I generally feel about the concept of meditation or the Zen-like experience I keep thinking I have to have to really appreciate my life. I'm just not a Zen-er. I like me some compost, and I love growing my own food. I'm all about organic milk, and I think waiting in line makes me a better person. I'm all about the big picture. But I usually just want to get on with it already.

So, although I thought I got the whole 'being in the moment' stuff, I couldn't ever really practice it when it was important. I'm cool when my luggage gets lost. I'm alright when my dinner is wrong at the restaurant. None of this stuff unnerves me. But the idea of just sitting and being....of being fully present and feeling what I'm supposed to feel without rushing to get on to the next thing? No dice.

Perhaps this is why I fought doing yoga for so long. Stretch? For an hour? And focus on my breathing? And my chi? All set with that. But everytime I do yoga...I love it. And wonder why I don't do it more. So if it makes any sense (it makes perfect sense to me), I'm going to be. No more constant self-help efforts. I'm done with dieting. Forever. Why do I have to keep on trying to make myself 'better' when I am just be fine with who I am and how I think and the way I feel? It's working for me. I have a wonderful life, blessings abound. Why do I have to constantly feel like I'm a boring chapter in a self-improvement book that will just sit, dusty, on the shelves until the next yard sale?

So, in the moment I am. And feeling it. The good, bad and ugly. Sometimes it's uncomfortable but most of the time....it's glorious. To feel the grass on my feet, and the rocks. To smell the breath of my babies, to feel my husband's hand on my back. To sit in a restaurant and hear the din of the diners and feel my hand on the glass. To talk about difficult things. To sit and stew and feel...whatever it is I'm feeling. But I'm here. I'm feeling. And I think you're on my chi.

In a haze of long summerish days and sweaty faces and papers to write, I've abandoned my lonely blog. If it had feelings, it would have it's arms crossed with me. 'Sure Jen, just use me when you're home with two small kids and no one to talk to. Just type on me whenever YOU need to. No, no! Don't worry about me. I know you have your playdates now and your work and your classes, but it's fine. I'm good. I'll just sit out here in the blogosphere and friggin' twiddle my thumbs while you think of something else to write about. Jackass'. Or something like that.

I wanted to write about guilt. But I can't, really, because I feel too damn guilty. I have two beautiful girls playing with the Noni, legs that are seriously too hairy for public viewing, and a video camera that needs charging for a gymnastics show later. So for my 4 readers, I will bid you adieu and be back on the scene like a sex machine sooner than later. Probably later.

A Walk

I've moved 17 times.

That's a lot. Yes, some of it includes college moves and crazy early 20's apartment living, but it still counts. Packing, unpacking, tossing and keeping. I always wanted to feel, in my digs, a sense of belonging and normalcy. That usually included a few key components. A dry cleaner: I need a familiar face when I drop off my blouses and ask them to pay some special attention to that spot on the right boob which there always seem to be many of. I was called 'Nips' in high school because in a completely unfair turn of events, an afternoon salad with Italian dressing made me look like a wet nurse. Fast forward 15 years later when I do indeed soak through my maternity shirts with the good stuff (I did consider ringing it out once, that stuff is liquid gold!).

Anyway, I liked having a mom and pop dry cleaner on the ready. And a library card. This was important. I love to read. Every night, I read. Even for it's 4 minutes. But I could get lost in libraries, often a spot to escape to when I was living with roommates (did I mention that I'm an only child and I. Like. My. Space.) and wanted to peruse the new Alice Hoffman or the latest Rolling Stone rag in a quiet little spot tucked between the mysteries and the large print sections. I could get lost for hours in a library. And I know that makes me a nerd, but it's cool. I've come to grips with my nerdiness. Nerdiness has served me well.

And what I always needed, no matter how brief my stay...was a place to walk. Of course I would have a variety of routes, depending on the time I had or the type of walk I needed. Is it a business walk meant for a workout only? The track will do. Is it a long walk kind of a day, with drop-ins to a downtown store (or perhaps to pick up my dry cleaning or hit the library?), I have a route for that too. Or maybe it's like the one I took Sunday. Long and lovely and sweeter than I imagined with a gentle wind at my back. I knew where the loud dogs would be, they didn't startle me when they jumped up against the gate. I knew where the guy from Ireland would be, waving to me and talking about the weather and how is daughter is in Quincy. I knew that I would see that lady I see all the time and we'd wave, and that we could repeat that for 20 years and still not know each other's names. And I remembered where that funny bump in the road was, and I hopped right over it. And I knew, as I came back around the way and my house came into view, that I really was home.

More Food. Hug a Tree.

This is a rice burger (GF but of course Sam doesn't like it!), chopped extra firm tofu, sprouts and any other kind of vegetable you can think of. Marinate with any sort of sauce (we went with a light Indian simmer) and it's a full meal of protein, carbs and fat and tons of fiber.

This is actually just a pretty little bit of Amy's Organic Palaak Paneer with steamed broccoli and a glass of the lovely stuff. Kids were away. So was husband. Oh, dear. It was lovely.

Just a beautiful salad (sideways yo!) with real blue cheese.

Sausage simmering for kale, carrot, garlic and onion soup.

If you do, make sure you throw the chopped kale in first. It can take a while to soften.

Seriously? Yum.

Food. The Picture Series.

Roasted butternut squash (or sweet potato) with cubed apple, pear and fresh cranberries.

Cinnamon. Nutmeg.

Lots of love.

5 Dollar Foot Long Munchkin Veggie Roll

I hope you can grasp from this photo (I'm taking lots of pictures of really beautiful and colorful food and I only think it's a little tiny bit weird not completely holy-crap-she-needs-more-work, weird) how amazing this meal was. The largest and most delicious portion of seaweed salad I ever did see. Extra shaved ginger and wasabi 'for the pretty lady' at no cost (you will always have me hooked with the pretty lady stuff, by the way). And 12, yes 12! fresh, scrumptious and completely satisfying vegetable rolls with cucumber, avocado, asparagus and sesame rice.

Now, in retrospect, I should have taken a gander at the lunch specials. But the whole experience was a whirlwind. Children's Hospital appointment for Sam and her Celiac Disease, trip over to hubby's work for 'show off your kid day' (okay, it was just us who did that), and at the same time, manage to squeeze a meal in for mom.

Normally we are planners to the nth degree. We go everywhere with snacks and meal and drinks (because we have to with our peanut), but I had a plan this day. I wanted sushi. I would have it.

BUT, it's a sushi place wedged between a Subway and a Dunkin Donuts. I'm not even kidding. So you start to wonder and listen to the naysayers (of which I was one)....really? Should I go there? Will it be fresh? Legit? The real deal?

So I try another spot that is recommended, Ma Soba. Fancy. Sit down service. Not flanked by fast food spots on either side. But not open until 11:30. I had a husband and two small tired, crankabotomous kids in the car and a short window of time before they became truly wretched and started throwing shoes.

So Osaka it was. Shoved into a little space, these guys worked the bamboo roll with deft precision and the craftsmanship of sushi masters. It was fast and fresh and soooo good. It was lunch and dinner. And I wasn't too late to the car and the kids.

But the shoes still came off.