Good Intentions

© Ryan Smith Photography

Do you ever feel like you're trapped in your day the moment you wake up? Like you can't quite grasp what it is you really want to do or accomplish, so you go through the motions of obligations or things you feel you should do? You spend most of the day with a vague sense that you're not really doing what you were meant to do, just what you're supposed to do.

Today was, for once, not one of those days. It easily could have been. I awoke feeling aimless and adrift. I got up and walked mindlessly down to the kitchen to let my dog out and observe the fresh blanket of snow that had been deposited overnight. Then I stared blankly out the kitchen window as I drank a glass of water, wondering if I would spend the entire day as I did the day before, unfocused and slightly dissatisfied, but not knowing why. And then it happened - a moment that shifted the trajectory of the entire day.

It was so simple. From my window, I spotted a neighbor's dog far off in the field next to our house. And he was absolutely delighting in the snow. He was alone and unattended, but completely immersed in running in circles and hopping around in the white fluff. His ears and posture were perked and eager, his tail wagged as he strutted about.

Suddenly, my day had intention again. Watching the dog for just a few moments reminded me of the essence of being. It was one of those rare glimpses, that seem to come so few and far between, of something akin to the meaning of life. How do we forget so easily? I set my glass down on the counter and ran upstairs to change. I knew I had to get outside and play, too.

So, I took the dog's lead and traipsed outside through the snowy woods with my dog and husband. We often venture out for morning walks or jogs, but because I had been given a lesson in intention, this morning felt different. I knew I needed to have this much intention each morning before I start slogging through the day.

Later, at my desk, I chanced upon an article by Christine Kane about the importance of having a morning ritual. I usually have somewhat of a routine in the morning and already do many of the things she suggests (yes, I do use a Neti Pot habitually), but have yet to make these things part of a ritual. So I took her advice and wrote out my morning ritual. Now I can begin each day with intention and focus, and not have to rely on the neighbor's dog to remind me!

I give thanks to that little dog for giving me these insights today. I have been so much more focused and happy ever since.

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Speaking of intentions, you can see that I haven't contributed to this blog since October. I've had "intentions" to, but have been thinking too much about my band of late. And I think that's a great way to spend my time. So more and more you will see posts specifically about The Hello Strangers, music, and creativity. These will eventually be linked and posted on our band site: www.thehellostrangers.com.

While you're at it, check out my friend Jamie's recent blog post about us!

Turning 30: I'll Cry If I Want To

I lay on the lawn chair like a sack. My head was heavy from a happy-birthday cold and a few too many last-night-to-be-29 drinks the evening before. Was this really my 30th birthday? Shouldn't I have been feeling at the pinnacle of health and vibrancy on this day of days? Could the day have snuck up so quickly, and why couldn't it wait until I had time to shake this stupid cold?

The morning sun twinkled against the white plastic chair slats as I smashed my cheek against them, staring languidly down through them to the grass below. At least it was warm in the sun, and I didn't have to accomplish anything in particular today. I had grown accustomed to this feeling of listlessness over the past several days; I barely had the brain power to contemplate my passage into 30-dome.

I suppose the old and wise would tell me that this is exactly how life is going to be from now on. They would say, "Life is full of disappointments. Just accept that things aren't always going to turn out how you want." I tell you, no matter how many times I turn that adage over in my mind, it still remains unacceptable to me. There has got to be more to life than surrendering helplessly to every disappointment.

I never planned to be anywhere else than the lake for my 30th birthday weekend. And despite my cold, and the fact that several people who planned to come to my party had to back out, I (underneath the gloom) was utterly content to be there surrounded by my family. I had had more than a few moments of feeling sorry for myself during the week preceding the big day, and my family members, in their undying effervescence, cheered me greatly. After all, wasn't 30 when you stopped crying over people not coming to your birthday party?

The next day, at my party, my husband surprised me with a sparkling, retro, baby blue and cream reissue 1950s electric guitar. In the midst of my wallowing, I had almost forgot that there was going to be celebration - and presents - with my family and friends surrounding me. There was no longer any room, or time, to feel despondent. When I pulled the wrapper off that shiny guitar, I wept into my hands, completely taken by surprise. Everyone had stopped what they were doing when they saw the large, wrapped package emerge from the cottage. And now, as tears streamed down my cheeks and a big smile began to form on my face, they watched expectantly and then applauded as I held the guitar up exultantly for all to see. I gave my husband his well-deserved hug and stepped out of the gloom.

Perhaps this is exactly how life is going to be from now on (and always has been). Just when you think life has completely trashed the party, through the mess come the most beautiful moments in the shape of shiny electric guitars, elderflower liqueur, tears of surprise, those darling faces of your family around you, or a friend driving through the dark for 5 hours to see you in the last hours of your birthday. We must never take these things for granted. Luckily for us, life will never let us.

For your enjoyment, here is the series of photographs of me opening my guitar (taken by Ricky MacPherson):

Ryan gets his hug

My Danelectro

Ryan even made me a sweet card with my face superimposed!

Gastronomy and the Divine Creative Impulse

What drives us to create? What is the explanation for something formulating in one's mind, like a melody or a verse, and what drives one to want to manifest it in some tangible form? Artists whom I have interviewed seem to agree that creating is something you feel you must do, and if you don't, then you are denying your mind and body a basic nourishment, like food. Though my need to create ebbs and flows like many of my other impulses, I am always struck by the almost cathartic nature of this drive.

How can we explain creative impulse? Why do I want to bake a pie, just out of the blue? Perhaps I wish to see the magical transformation of tough stalks of rhubarb melding with strawberries and sugar, or the crust rolling out just right, and the lattice top cutter rolling merrily through the dough. Perhaps I wish to experience the simple satisfaction of admiring a work in completion as it comes out of the oven, smelling like all the comforts in the world. Of course, unlike writing a song, one of the many perks of baking is that you get to put your creation in your mouth and savor it.

Unlike baking, songwriting allows for a longer-lasting savor. Sure, I don't get to put my song in my mouth and chew on it. But I get to sing it, which is another oral (and aural) experience altogether, and I can do so as many times as I want, indefinitely. Singing is one of my favorite things to do. There's great mystery in being able to open one's mouth and release air and vibrations to form notes wrapped in words. No other instrument can accomplish this. Moreover, unlike many other instruments, the voice is not man-made. We were created with this instrument already built into our bodily functions. How divine!

Recently, my sister and I brought in new members to our band, The Hello Strangers. I have been compelled ever since by the need to create once again. To be honest, when I am not focusing on running our photography business, it consumes my thoughts. Melodies greet me upon awaking, prompting me to grab my guitar and bring the song to life, so to speak. It seems effortless; in just a few minutes the song is alive and ready to share with others. Visions and ideas about the future of our band inspire me during many of my waking hours. All of a sudden, the thought of touring sounds marvelous, whereas before it seemed intimidating and somehow out-of-reach.

My sister and I, having talked about playing with a full band for years, are amazed to watch things falling into place around us, as if they were meant to happen right here and now. The energy of our new band mates is contagious, and the support of our small but growing fan base is humbling. I know that my creativity is spurred by this new context in which our music exists. I am grateful for it everyday, because my life has become enriched with the textures, melodies, and visions of creativity - that divine, mysterious force that we cannot rationally explain or deny.

Our first gig as a band is tonight, and I cannot contain my excitement about sharing this energy with others.

© Ryan Smith

Christmastide

Yesterday, the freezing rain in the forecast suddenly turned to snow outside our window. In Southern Pennsylvania, snow is often more of a blessing than a common occurrence, so we settled back to work thinking it wouldn't last. But it continued, and our first real snow of the season covered the trees that line our road. The lantern outside our back door wore a little elf's cap of snow, and our dog stepped tentatively out the back door sniffing the new white stuff.

A year ago, we had just moved into this house and were barely able to get unpacked, wrap presents, and, of course, throw our holiday party. Hosting is one of my favorite things, so that was top on the priority list. It acted as a nice housewarming as well. A year later, we are very settled here. It has been nice to get started earlier with the Christmas shopping, and the planning of our holiday fête, which we hosted last Saturday.

I remarked recently to my husband how often over the past year of living back home I have looked around me and thought blissfully, "Gosh, my life is so great." I think a major reason for this feeling is that so many of our visions have come to fruition. Living on the other side of the country was an adventure I would never give up, but it made us yearn for things, some of which we couldn't quite put our finger on. Being back home has shown us that many of those things were waiting for us right here in our own hometown. I believe Ryan and I make a good life for ourselves no matter where we live, but this place has allowed us to put many of the puzzle pieces together that were once a bit scattered.

We see our grandparents frequently - even my grandmother and relatives in upstate New York are in very close proximity compared to when we lived in Texas or Idaho. We see our parents and siblings as often as possible; two out of my three siblings live here in town now. They are part of the core of our social network. As are our friends, some who live in our town, but others who come from nearby cities and remind us of our past city lives.

Even my dream of having a band has been coming together in the past month. My sister and I have added two lead guitarists/mandolin/lap steel players, bass, and drums to our outfit, The Hello Strangers. This is something I'm really looking forward to in the coming year.

I love the Christmas season for many reasons: the cheer, the little gifts and treats to pass around, the special times with family and friends, and the magic of bigger things we cannot quite explain. I love the feeling of looking back at the past year and counting blessings, while also looking ahead to the next year of life and being given a fresh start. I am grateful everyday for the things that I have, and try not to take any of it for granted.

This Christmastide, may you look back in fond remembrance and look ahead to a year full of promises and surprises.

Happy Holidays!

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Christmas sweaters bring Christmas cheer!
My sister and her beau spread the holiday spirit at our party this past Saturday:

Free of Ego, Free of Regret

I have had it in my mind's eye over the past week something that was a supplemental resolution of mine for 2008. I wrote it in my journal almost a year ago. Somehow, over the months, I let it drift back into the recesses of my brain to sit unused. But I have revisited it recently, and somehow my understanding of it has changed. Something has "clicked" for me.
It is three simple words:

Free of Ego

I do not say "Free from Ego" because our egos are intrinsically a part of us. I don't wish to be free from my id, as if separated from my it. But "Free of Ego" implies a freedom from the constraints of the Ego as aggressor, competitor, and negative entity that guides us through our daily actions.

Free of Regret is something I have added to this mantra more recently as I have come to terms with the fact that I am a "Ruminator." I allow negative events and associations to drift into my psyche in the present moment, where they continue to fester like a boil on my memory. Even reminiscing and talking about these events with other people is, I have learned, no more constructive than dwelling on them internally. I wish to free myself of the Regret that at any moment can surface and change the course of my thought patterns and my day.

When I was in grad school, one of my fellow classmates accused me of cheating. I knew in my heart that I had not cheated, but he was a good friend and someone I had come to trust and confide in over the years. Realizing that he did not fully trust me in return for some reason (and I believe this was more about his personality than mine) was very hard to deal with or forgive. We made our amends, but to this day I know there is a tiny part of the situation that I have not exonerated. I may never completely forgive him for something I truly thought was poorly handled and downright wrong.

Being Free of Ego, Free of Regret means that in this moment, here and now, I will not allow myself to ruminate on this experience. I count to 3 and vow that after 3 seconds I move onto more positive, constructive thought patterns.

Other negative reminiscences such as this come up from time to time in my daily thoughts: disagreements I've had with a family member whose core beliefs are much different than mine, or things left unsaid that I wish I had said to win my case (there it is, the big EGO!). I'm sure we all have experienced similar things. When I am under the influence of Ego the Aggressor, I am allowing myself to think that I need to prove this person wrong, as if I am most definitely right and she is definitely wrong. With all the subjectivities in our great world that make it so multidimensional and fascinating, why would I make something so paltry as being "right" my main goal?

When I am Free of Ego, I speak with my own forthrightness and character, but I do not allow the aggressive ego to turn the situation into something negative: a competition or a bad experience. There is something to be learned in every circumstance. Only if the ego is quiet and calm can we see what is to be learned.

What is present in the space made available by being Free of Ego, Free of Regret?
Gratitude, Peace, Poised Self-Confidence, Joy, and Love.
This Thanksgiving, I will ruminate on these things, not the others.

This photo I took of our beloved Highland Lake this fall brings me much solace and gratitude.

How do you free yourself from Ego and Regret?

Waking Up In a New Political Landscape

I have tried, in the past few months, to keep politics at a good distance from this blog. In a political race, it is easy to alienate people who may not be rooting for the same candidate you are. Particularly in the farming community in which I dwell, thrusting my Obama sign into the grass in front of my house seemed somehow bellicose. I had to put my more apologetic tendencies aside and remind myself that this was, indeed, a competition, and I had every right to root for my team.

This past week has been monumental for me, as I'm sure it has for the majority of Americans. Even those who did not vote for Obama are surely realizing the historical importance of this election. If they're lucky, they will have at least experienced a flutter in their hearts upon viewing people all over the country and the world dancing in the streets and waving American flags. To know that people in countries all over the world are actually celebrating one of our decisions is truly spectacular. Regardless of how swiftly the Obama administration is able to carry out its promises, our whole political landscape has changed over night. America is transitioning into a new brand of country.

I woke up Wednesday morning with hope and excitement in my heart, and those feelings remain with me now. I feel fortunate that I have not fallen victim to the paranoia and xenophobia that caused many people to say "NoBama, No Way." After all, what has my generation of Americans experienced thus far that we can be truly excited about? Two gulf wars? 9/11? Hurricane Katrina? I think not. This is the first sign of positive progress we have been witness to. I never got to see Neil Armstrong walk on the moon for the first time, or desegregation in schools. But I did get to witness the first black president elected into office, winning the popular and electoral votes, and humbling stepping onto the stage in Chicago to greet the world.

Certainly, this election does not prove that we are "color blind," or that we have demolished all racial barriers in this country in the matter of one day. I hope we don't begin to think so; there is still much work to be done. And neither will every election from this day forward go my way. But I have a renewed confidence in the power of grassroots movements, our rights as voters, and the constitution. As my friend Liz wrote very poignantly to me in an email this week:

"On this post-election day 1 (i.e. "the beginning"), I am making a
promise. Just as I typically, in the throes of a hangover, promise
never to drink again, I may be making a vow that I cannot keep. But I
am at least pledging to try…I will not lose faith in this country
again. I will not forget this day or this feeling, and I'm hoping
that you won't either. I will not let my guard down, and when this
country starts to mess up again, I will stay calm and hopeful, and
work to change it. And finally, although I can't promise not to
threaten it again, I won't actually move to Canada, no matter what."

May the energy from this week carry on over the next big steps in our country's progress, and into our everyday lives from this day forward.
And may we all learn great things from being part of our nation's great history.

Ode to a Grandmother

When there is laughter in the heart, what joys can remain stifled?

Few words can describe my Grandmother, Marion, as well as this photograph can. She's the life of the party, the bubbles in champagne, the mischievous twinkle in an eye. She loves penguins, Irish Cream, and peanut butter and sweet onion sandwiches. She putters around the kitchen, humming like a trumpet out of the corner of her mouth (Yes! We have no bananas!). She loves all things QVC. She has eleven grandchildren, ages 2 to 29. Christmas is still magical at her house. She sews, knits, quilts, bakes, and stays up all night reading just one more chapter. She has a million house coats! She cries when she laughs (so does my Mom), pushing her glasses up onto her forehead so she can wipe her eyes.

She defines the word whippersnapper. She's one of a kind!

What more can I say? This picture says it all!

Remember today who you love the most, and take them not for granted.

My Favorite Things

"We should all do what, in the long run, gives us joy, even if it is only picking grapes or sorting the laundry." - E.B. White

I experience great joy from the simplest of things in my life. This spring has been lovely in so many ways. I find myself telling people who ask how things are going that I really feel like I am living the life I have envisioned for a long time. This often results in an expression of surprise from the person, since these questions can often elicit a laundry list of woes. I really am superbly happy with how things in my life have been unfolding, notwithstanding the occasional hurdle or moment of drama (life would be boring without these things!).

Thus, I am inspired to make a list of some of my favorite things at the moment - things which, upon thinking about them, make me stop and smile. I hope you, too, will ponder your favorite things and go out and experience them for all they're worth.

1. Breakfast - this is my favorite meal of the day. It is the simplest of meals, tastes splendid after 8-10 hours of fasting, and gives me time in the morning to contemplate my day and avoid getting off to too hurried of a start. I feel sorry for people who think that breakfast is unimportant and they "don't have time" for such a basic part of life.
2. Sweetsies Eats and Treats - this roadside wonder sits along Route 40 between Clear Spring and Hagerstown, Maryland, which is an oft-traveled route for us when running errands, etc. It offers the best soft serve that I've ever tried (barring Sandy's Frozen Custard in Austin, TX). I love a good soft serve cone, particularly plain vanilla. One lick of Sweetsies' soft serve and I melt!
   
3. Bustling around the house - I love to "tidy". It is my way of making sure that my little space in the universe is orderly and free from clutter so that I can go out into the messy world with a clean slate, ready for anything. The process of straightening things up is meditative and refreshing for me. I often think of Mary Poppins snapping her fingers as she tidies up the nursery, everything magically folding and falling back into its proper place. Did I mention I'm also a Virgo?
   
4. Playing music with Fred and Brechyn - this has been a weekly tradition since this winter, and it will soon cease to be since our good friend, Fred, is moving to Boston. But we have played several gigs together, enjoyed weekly jam sessions, laughed and guffawed at talking in silly accents, and had many enriching philosophical and musically-charged conversations. I'm glad I'll still have my sister, Brechyn, here as we continue on as The Hello Strangers.
   
5. Gardening - this is an activity that both my husband and I enjoy together, now in particular since we have been living in apartments for the past 4 years and never had a house, per se, at which to start a garden. The other evening we started a new bed of orange marigolds, purple verbena, and white astilbe. I love to clear out the weeds and plant fresh growth, then stand back and admire our work.
   
6. Sadie - I have written a lot about our dog. But let me just say that she continues to surprise and amuse me daily. I can't imagine life without her.
   
7. Riding my bike to work - I fly down the hill into town, my hair blowing behind me, my backpack on. I feel like a teenager again, as I retrace many of the routes I rode on when I was young. Then I ride back up the hill after work, knowing that I avoided pumping at least a little carbon monoxide into the air that day.
   
8. The Burning Spear live album "Live at the Zenith, Paris, 1988" - this is my favorite reggae album that I most often crave and blare throughout the house. After writing my Masters Report on reggae in 2006, I try to make sure I remain in touch with my knowledge and appreciation of the genre. Despite being recorded in 1988, the musicianship and arrangements on this album are timeless in the way that Winston Rodney (the frontman) does it best. I love playing this album for folks that are reticent about reggae or have only heard the cornier (and there is a lot of it) side of the genre.

What are some of your favorite things?

My Morning Walk

On many mornings (and afternoons), I enjoy a walk or jog with my dog, Sadie, along the lane beside the horse barn in our back yard, down into the the little dale where the stream trickles along, and through the fields beyond. Each time, I take note of how fortunate I am to have this land accessible to me, so that I may walk peacefully or run as fast as I can, and so that Sadie can be off-leash, running free through the tall grass. Below is a series of photos from a typical stroll.

Where is your favorite place to stroll or jog?

Our backyard, with the fire pit Ryan built in the yard beyond.

Sadie is ready for her walk.

One of the horses strolls along with us for a bit.

Looking back toward the barn and house, the horses munch on grass.

The "dale" and stream have been bursting with life as of late.

Sadie loves the open fields.

She says, "Let's go again!"

Enjoy Your Town

Yesterday was one of those days you wish you could seal in a bottle and reopen whenever you want.

We have been living in our hometown for almost 8 months now, after living away for 10 years. I have been wary of the possibility that the novelty of it all would wear off eventually. But yesterday reaffirmed that I really am happy to be here. It also taught me, once again, that you can be content anywhere as long as you have the right attitude. It is a simple concept, but one that can be convoluted and difficult to uphold. In fact, it was the simplicity of the day's activities that made it so special, and I believe that simplicity is at the crux of maintaining the right attitude about where you live.

This season, our business, Chace + Smith Photography, has had the opportunity to shoot for the nearby Whitetail Ski Resort. Because the day was supposed to be clear and mild, Ryan (my husband) decided to head up to Whitetail before dawn and try to capture some great sunrise shots for the company. I met him there around 9:30 a.m., as he was finishing up, to snowboard with him for a while. Mind you, we both snowboarded for free since Ryan works in the repair shop at the resort, and I have managed to get my hands on a few vouchers. If this weren't the case, we definitely wouldn't be able to take advantage of the resort's proximity to our home.

The sun was out and the first signs of Spring were in the air. We whipped down the mountain, filled our lungs with the fresh air while riding the lift, and felt 20 years old again (I always feel very connected to Ryan when we snowboard together). Around noon we decided we had better get back to town (and to work), but since we were feeling free and spontaneous, we thought we would stop for a pint and split a sandwich (keeping in mind that we are trying to live below our means) at the tavern on the square in Mercersburg. We drove the beautiful drive back with the windows down, sat at the bar at Flannery's eating our lunch, and talked to the various people we knew there. My sister, who works at the restaurant, happened to stop in. She joined us at the bar for another beer. I felt very connected to my community, enjoying its slow pace as the sun streamed through the tavern windows.

The rest of the day was balmy and relaxed, partially because of the weather, but also because I had allowed myself to get away from my routine for a bit. Everything seemed to flow; the fun was cheap, adventurous, and whimsical. It was a great day.

We live in a town with two stoplights, with under two thousand residents. Fun can be had anywhere (even on a Monday). Enjoy your town!

What makes your town or home special and fun?

Today, I Find Inspiration in Everything

Today, the sun rises triumphantly over the fields next to my house. We have had few sunny days this winter, so the sight is breathtaking.

Today, I enjoy watching my dog chase a ball once or twice, then prance off to sniff more interesting things (she is not much of a ball dog).

Today, I notice the cool, soothing feeling of the milk as I eat my cereal.

Today, I silence the alarm bell on my email and respond to emails when I am ready, not every time I receive a message. I am not a slave to technology.

Today, I let the warm water from the shower linger on the back of my neck for just a few extra seconds.

Today, I dwell on happy thoughts and moments. I am present, relaxed, and alert, acknowledging the blessed life that I have.

Today, I give someone I love a hug and tell them how much they mean to me.

Today, I enjoy the sound of the scissors as I get my hair trimmed. The new, healthy strands make me feel refreshed and confident.

Today, I watch the birds at the feeder outside my kitchen window, grateful for their little noises and bodies. The world would be a very dull place without them.

Today, I Find Inspiration in Everything I can.

How do you find inspiration in your daily life?

A New Year, A New Start

Dearest friends and family,
I am finally ready to sit back down to my blog after weeks of holiday fun. I have great feelings about 2008, and I am excited to share my thoughts and ideas with you over the coming year. I have truly appreciated your readership and comments during the past 8 months, and hope to continue hearing from you this year.

I will start my blog entries for 2008 in a simple manner. Without question, this time of year is defined by the resolutions we make, maintain, and discard. I have been reading many blogs lately offering advice about resolutions. Some of us don't make them, some of us do; it is a very subjective and personal decision, and no matter how big of a deal our society and media make them, resolutions can be the simplest of wishes. I won't offer advice about making or keeping them, I will simply share mine for this year. I have learned that focusing on one macro-goal, in lieu of a plethora of micro-goals, is the easiest way to keep the resolution alive over the months. So here it is:

To set lower expectations for what I do with my time, and be OK with what I choose to do with it. What I do and accomplish is enough.

I have been enjoying this fresh perspective as I settle into the new year. Focusing on this larger goal allows the little things to fall into place more naturally. This particular one works well for me because I am a bit of a perfectionist and often feel that I should be doing something else with my time. Enough, I say! And that is what it will be...enough. I will ask myself what I really want to do, not what I think I should do, or what would be the best or coolest thing. I will not apologize for what I choose to do with my time; what I choose to do is the right thing for me.

Do you have any goals for 2008 to share?

Happy New Year!

A Time and Place for Unhealthy Foods

My family hails from upstate New York, specifically the rural areas of Bainbridge and Walton, East of Binghamton. This is a land where nut-brown wood paneling and maroon vinyl adorn the bowling alleys and bars where my family gathers over the holidays. It is often bitterly cold outside during this time, the sun slanting early over the hills and the snow dust swirling like a lace curtain over the winding roads. Thus the cozy, dark corners of my Grandmother’s house and the local bars beckon us to gather there and linger for hours. This is vacation, after all, so I am always primed for a respite from my tidy routine. Good timing, since glistening popcorn balls, ribbons of strudel, scrumptious cakes and pies, succulent bacon, buttery mashed potatoes, golden fries and spicy hot wings suddenly besiege me. My sensory organs are piqued, my stomach ready to be commiserated and cheered.

I try to allow myself these few days away from my normal standards, but I am inexorably facing feelings of guilt deep in my psyche all the while. Why? Because I know too well the potential havoc these foods can wreak on my anatomy, and the environment to a great extent. But does it ever strike you as unfair that some of the best tasting foods are the worst for you?

No, I say, I will not be a patsy to my country’s gross obsession with fat and calories. It obviously has done nothing in the way of halting the spread of obesity and greed. Therefore, when faced with a platter of fried chicken tenders and fries that someone has ordered at the bowling alley my family often haunts during the holidays, I indulge in the name of tradition and celebration. It wouldn’t be fair to deny myself the full package of this experience, to not allow the wonder of comfort food to work its charm! The smell of the wing sauce, the glass rim of the beer bottle on my lips, the bowling saddle shoes on my feet, the sight of my family gathered together – the whole throw-my-reticence-to-the-wind experience must be fulfilled and relished; or these artifacts and scraps of nostalgia that illuminate my present life will fall prey to the wolves of dereliction. The scaffolding of my past will begin to decay with neglect. Thus, I indulge with reflection and gratitude, taking only enough to keep the wolves at bay, and leaving room for new memories to grow.

So go ahead, throw caution to the wind! Put an extra scoop of whipped cream on your hot cocoa and let the memories in!

How do you indulge and reminisce?

(Photo: My mom and I enjoy some holiday libations this Thanksgiving)

Creature Comforts (Part 3): Paring down, Thankful Eating

This topic happens to fall on the week of our national Thanksgiving celebration. I write this from my Grandmother’s house in upstate New York, where my family has gathered over good food and drink to give thanks for all of life’s bounties. I was initially going to entitle this post, “Mindful Eating,” but upon realizing that Thanksgiving is but a day away, I will deliver my simple message via a short prose, so that I can get back to celebrating with my family, and so can you.

I love to eat. Food is undoubtedly one of my favorite things. I admit, however, that I don’t always “respect” everything I put in my mouth, most often because I am aware that the ingredients may not be all that wholesome for my body but at that moment I am too tired, too hungry, or too transfixed by the sweet, glorious crunchy sugar coating (for example) to care. What follows is usually a mindless devouring of the food in front of me, briefly satisfying as it goes down my throat. But in the end, I am left with an empty hole in my gut, as if the food I just held in my hands was only a mirage in a vast, empty desert. This is a habit I work hard to change, but I can't always expect perfection. Special occasions such as Thanksgiving, however, are great opportunities to put change into practice.

This Thanksgiving, as you sit down to this special meal with your family, take a moment to look at each delicious item on your plate. Imagine the time and energy that has gone into each bite. Think about the people you love who have prepared it, and if you took part in the preparations, give thanks – to God, to the universe, whatever your preference – for your ability to help. Be not just mindful of each bite, but thankful as well. Consider this your one chance to enjoy each bite, chewing slowly with focus and intent. Consider this likewise your one chance to observe the people who surround you, giving thanks for each of them as you enjoy this meal together. Do this today and everyday after.

After all, taking one day at a time, one bite at a time, and one celebration at a time, is the essence of paring down. It means choosing simplicity, but never accepting an empty hole in your gut – the great paradox of balance. So if you love your mother’s pumpkin pie that you get to eat but once or twice a year, don’t deny yourself that extra slice. Being thankful means relishing as well as slowing down. It means filling the void with simple gifts.

Happy Thanksgiving!
Larissa


How do you give thanks everyday?

Creature Comforts (Part 3): Paring down: SHOPPING

Photo Ryan Smith ©

Continued from Paring Down, an introduction:

In regards to shopping and material possessions, how do we pare down without denying the happiness that can come with abundance?

I’m not going to deny it; sometimes money can provide happiness. As much as I am proud of my frugality and aptness at paring down, buying new things does provide a certain satisfaction when it comes to embracing and expressing my identity. But it is the simple enjoyment of each item I acquire that allows me to be mindful of when I have enough and when I just have too much.

I know a lot of people who buy something just because it is on sale. This is an easy way to quickly attain too much. I try to go shopping with a list of things I need (and “need” is subjective isn’t it?) and only buy those things. If something is on sale, great! If not, I usually base the level of need on the price and either take it or leave it. I try to be a selective and mindful shopper; as I hear my products beeping across the scanner at checkout, I pretend I am a kid in a candy store, ogling at what I am able to buy.

Ultimately, balance is the goal here: my $300 pair of cowgirl boots from Austin, Texas is one of my most prized material possessions. But though they sit on a shelf to be admired, I wear them (and dance in them) several times a week and have them repaired and cleaned often. Lesson: splurge when the time is right, but cherish the heck out of the purchase and admire it daily. Once you stop admiring or wearing an item, which often happens, give it away. This will de-clutter your mind and your closet, providing a new perspective on the wonderful things you still hold dear.

Also, take the time to go through that overflowing attic or that spare room full of stuff you’ve been meaning to sort through. Donate or recycle anything you no longer wear frequently, or that no longer serves an aesthetic or emotional purpose in your home. You will hopefully find that paring down is even more rewarding than filling up your shopping cart. Don’t save it for a rainy day! There’s no better time than now to initiate positive change in your life.

P.S. This also applies to buying gifts. Give fewer, more meaningful gifts – be excessive with warm complements and good cheer!

What are your most prized possessions and in what ways do you cherish them? What are your shopping habits and how do you pare down in regards to material possessions?

Where the Heart Is

I am home. My sails are still flapping in the breeze, but my ship is in port. I have not felt this grounded in a long time, having only visited my hometown several times a year for the past decade. This is the ultimate cure for homesickness: coming home. I have unpacked the homesickness that has been dwelling in my belly for years and have stored it away in a drawer, perhaps in safe-keeping for future journeys. In its stead, the warmest feelings of reconnection with family, friends, and myself have been taking shape over the past week or so since we have arrived here. Something as simple as a bike ride reminds me of how it felt to be 15, tracing the same paths across town that I did in my youth, feeling the same burn in my thighs as I crest a familiar hill.

I left my hometown of Mercersburg, Pennsylvania when I was 17 years old, having just graduated from high school, on my way to college in Boston, Massachusetts. Every move after college (from Boston, to Moscow, Idaho, to Austin, Texas) involved, all at once, the excitement of the next step and a deep yearning for my hometown. Would I ever be able to feel at "home" again? Was Mercersburg the only place I could feel that way? What the heck was I going to do in my hometown if I every moved back? Despite my longing for it, moving home always seemed to be more complicated than moving somewhere else far, far away. I convinced myself over the years that "home" was an elusive figment of the mind and could be achieved anywhere if the conditions were right. But I never felt the strong sense of home I was looking for and knew deep down that in order to find out if Mercersburg really was "home," I was going to have to move there. My husband, who is also from Mercersburg, and I agreed that it was time to stop talking about moving and just go for it, despite the risks involved (mostly in regards to our business). Luckily for us, the opportunity presented itself and the move was facilitated quite nicely.

So, was I right? Did we really need to take the plunge and move to Mercersburg (or at least the Northeast) to truly feel at home? Well...yes, so it seems at this juncture. Despite certain aspects about the town that we could "live" without, it really is a special place, and many of my friends who grew up here agree (and have moved back over the years as well). Not everyone grows up in a town to which they long to return; I feel fortunate that I have and look forward to finally taking advantage of the many positive aspects about living here. Here's a quick list of wonderful things I have noticed about the area since I've been back (particularly in comparison to my former, albeit great, life in Austin):

• We are now surrounded by green, voluptuous mountains with little valleys and towns in between
• The corn is as high as an elephant's eye; the fields surround me as I go for walks with my dog
• I only have 3 bars to choose from (yes, I actually like have less choices), all of which are within walking distance
• There are only 2 red lights in Mercersburg and therefore only 2 chances to run into a traffic "jam"
• Big, fun cities such as Washington, D.C., Philadelphia, and New York, are just a hop, skip, and a jump away, easily satisfying any urges to live the city life again
• Rent is cheap, and beer is cheaper

I could go on, and I may in later posts. Obviously, being closer to family and many of my old friends has already made the move more than worthwhile.

Note: My posts may be lacking in visual aid for the time being, unlike many in the past. I will hopefully have Internet access on my own computer soon, from which I will be able to post photos. For now, I am at the whim of family members' computers and Internet connections.

I am so glad I can keep up with my blog anywhere I go and hope all my readers are having a great summer!

Saying Goodbye to Texas, Part 1

This Saturday, Ryan and I visited the parents of one of our friends in San Antonio. We had a lovely time with good company. We barbecued in their yard, sat around the dining room table during an afternoon rain, and relaxed in the muted, post-rain sunshine after a delicious dinner. As Ryan and I spoke to our friend's father in the yard, I started to shift my focus from listening to our conversation, to listening and noticing him in his environment - a big-picture view. I was reminded at that moment of one of the many reasons why I appreciate having lived in so many places around the country and world: I find myself in the welcoming homes and company of so many wonderful and interesting people that I may not have ever had the chance to run into. There we sat with him, hundreds of miles away from our hometown, the other towns we have lived in (such as Moscow, Idaho, and Boston, Massachusetts), with many friends and family scattered about. We were even an hour and a half drive from our home base away from home, Austin. We were both visitors to San Antonio and to Texas in a way (even after four years, I still don't feel like a true Texan). But what I felt in that moment was an immense sense of place, albeit a portable, nomadic sense of place, like something I could pack up and take with me. This, after all, was his space, the world he had created for himself, and we were invited to glimpse it and get comfortable in it, even for just a few hours.

I have felt this nomadic sense of place and belonging before, over the years of being invited into the worlds of many people out West, back East, and across the seas. We wave goodbye to them all eventually and head on down the road. But we never forget the glimpses, the snapshots we take for our memories, and the people woven into the fabric of our lives.


This evening I went for a jog along Town Lake, the section of the Colorado River that runs through the center of Austin. The immense amounts of rain we have been experiencing in Central Texas has caused all the waterways to swell, forcing the river authority to open the dams full-throttle. Our passive, mopey "river" has become a torrential deluge, charging with its army of white caps through the center of town. There is a point on the North side of the river path where the currents are at their peak (see above). It was there that my jogging feet this evening were hypnotized into a zombie-like stride toward the river's edge. I joined a small group of passersby, mesmerized as I was by the swells rarely seen in our fair city. I could tell everyone was caught in the middle of their usual Sunday evening activities - biking, jogging, strolling - when they stopped to see this strange occurrence taking place in their city.


Like a comet passing through the atmosphere, these waves were a fleeting site not to be missed. For those two minutes or so that I stood there, feeling my elevated heart rate slowing, I felt a connection with the strangers around me and to my city that I have loved for four years.

I am not saddened by these moments, or by saying goodbye to our friends in San Antonio, Austin, Idaho, or wherever we may drive away from in the future. For these are the gifts I have been given for leaping a bit farther from the nest than I could have, and keeping my heart open to anyone willing to answer my knock and invite me in.

The Road of Life

"On the road of life, it's not where you go, but who's by your side that makes the difference."

This was the quotation on the inside of the card I gave my husband for our anniversary last weekend. In our years together, we have traveled (and lived) all over the country by car and, thus, this quote seemed fitting as an expression of my feelings about him and our relationship. Well, we have come to yet another interesting turn in the road of life. We have decided to pick up our Austin roots and move back to the Appalachian mountains from whence we came. Yes, we are moving to Pennsylvania!

This has long been a goal of ours, as we have been living away from home for a decade. But, like the twists and turns of the road, one can never quite predict how or when one's goals may come to fruition. We made our decision rather abruptly, two days ago, about a month before our apartment lease will expire. Yet, it seems this is how things must happen sometimes: in the blink of an eye, as if life is suddenly going 90 miles and hour. Despite the speed at which we feel these things often come to pass, it is with peace of mind and joyful hearts that we make our decision. This is, after all, how the tires feel as they hug the curves in the road, you gripping the steering wheel: unfathomably fast, but true in purpose.

We have driven the route from Austin, Texas to Mercersburg, Pennsylvania and back 19 times (one way). The twists and turns of the route have become ever-familiar over the past four years of driving home twice a year. We have our favorite pit stops and landmarks, stopping always at the same Cracker Barrels for breakfast (with winter stops being particularly fun since they often have a fire in the fireplace), always ordering the same thing off the menu (the Old Timer's Breakfast with hot coffee and tea), and remarking on how the black to white employee ratios change as we move from South to North and vice versa. Our 20th trip North in July will be our last on this route, at least in this era of our lives. Surely we will return to Austin in some fashion, but the chances of us making the trip under these circumstances are slim. And so we end another chapter of our lives and start a new one. The feeling is much akin to passing over state lines on a long road trip home; leaving the past behind and driving headlong into the future.

We will greatly miss, but always appreciate, our friends here in Austin, all the wonderful people we've met, and the fun things that we have done. Living for three years in the same city as my younger sister, for example, has been a dream come true for me, one that I have tried not to take for granted. I know I can leave this place knowing that I've made the best of the city and the people we know here. I have made many an effort to "keep Austin weird", swam in Barton Springs Pool, hiked on the Barton Creek Greenbelt more times than I can count, frequented the Alamo Drafthouse Cinemas, eaten a plethora of breakfast tacos, and two-stepped many a night at the Broken Spoke (Chaparral rocks!).

I have spent most of my time here loving this city. I remember our first night in Austin, falling asleep with a big ol' grin on my face! But my heart always seemed to be calling me home. Having a husband who grew up in my hometown has made it even harder to be away, since we both know many of the same people and pine for the same place on this earth. Perhaps moving home will be just another pit stop in the long journey of life, or maybe we will find it to be a perfect home base from which to go out and have many new adventures. Regardless, our heart strings have been pulled for many years by hundreds of goodbyes to family and friends, watching the mountains of our home fade in the distance as we drive away yet again. We will drive the road to Mercersburg this time knowing that a few goodbyes in Austin will yield a hundred hellos at home. I'm ready for this, as bittersweet as it will be.

Photo by Ryan Smith

Other People's Lives

Neighborhood. Just the word stirs up an array of iconic and nostalgic images of living side by side: porch swings, stray cats, driveways, shrubberies, abandoned cars, gables and eaves, metal trash cans… Our neighborhood of Bouldin Creek in South Austin has a particularly unique array of homes and yards, all nestled together, each an expression of personal style working in harmony and juxtaposition with the other. Ryan, Sadie (our dog), and I walked for an hour just the other evening through our ‘hood, dreaming of lives other than our own. We cherish our life together, of course, but a peek into other people’s lives offers new ideas and fresh perspectives about where we’re going and where we’ve come.

These walks offer an experience of simultaneous nostalgia and future dreams, like a film reel floating through my psyche as I walk past yards and houses. A butterfly lands on a flowery vine, a cat basks on a front stoop with her three kittens blinking at us as we pass, and a young couple gathers with friends on their cozy front porch for Friday evening drinks as the hazy sun comes to rest on the tree line. I am reminded of visits with family friends, enjoying the chance to be at their home and eat their food. Or of the potlucks my roommate and I used to host in our ranch-house apartment in Moscow, Idaho – hours of communal eating and drinking as the sun sank behind the trees and the moon joined our revelry. I yearn to be likewise sitting with friends again, like many times before.

I also look to the future as Ryan and I talk of our plans to one day own a home. We discuss certain things we like about some houses and other things we aren’t so fond of. For instance, we love front porches and green building, but are miffed by the modern homes that spring up between the little cottages, towering overhead like a behemoth: too pretentious! Sometimes, we love things about a yard or house we can’t quite explain; it is simply its ambiance that draws us to appreciate it. The owners may share similar ideologies about life, or they express something we admire in a creative way. We love to talk about what we will do when we own a house one day: entertain, garden, decorate, and tinker in the shed. These moments of looking ahead and dreaming of what we want provide nourishment for our spirits and our relationship. We have enjoyed thinking and talking about the future since we started dating 7 years ago.

Mostly, though, our walk is the convergence of the past and future in the present. My experience is the result of who I am and what I choose to notice and think about. Our experience together is the result of our personalities feeding off of and inspiring the other. Simply enjoying a quiet stroll through our neighborhood, one step at a time, purposefully taking our time to zigzag through the streets – we love our lives knowing others love theirs. Then we may return to our delightful little apartment and charmed lives, rejoicing in the fact that we don’t need anything but what we already have.