.moment by moment.

Announcing! La Vida Lumbini

2012-01-26T10:09:00.000-08:00

Hello !

I appreciate all of you who have been checking in to see how we're doing here at Lumbini Gardens. I'm still figuring out how exactly to include the internet in my life to achieve the lifestyle I desire. For now, to quench your curiosity, let me send you to my New Blog(!) that will chronicle our journey in more of an informative way than the style I write here. I'm excited about it! :-)

I imagined more of a Grand Unveiling, but this is what it is for now.

Announcing! La Vida Lumbini!

Solstice Smiling

2011-12-30T12:09:00.000-08:00

Check out the rest of our photo from December at Lumbini here !

Seeking: Compatriots in Permaculture Bliss in Baja Sur, Mexico

2011-12-15T10:52:00.001-08:00

photo: running water in the kitchen!

We are having such fun already, living at Lumbini Gardens in Baja Sur, Mexico. My love told me yesterday he wants to be here forever, he is just so content.

We live right across the road from world-renowned seed-saving expert, Gabriel Howearth (heard of Seeds of Change seed company? Yeah - he founded that, and more). We are blessed with the opportunity to learn from and work with/for him daily. Also to consult with him on what to plant where and when at Lumbini Gardens so that one day it, too, can be a wildly diverse and overflowingly abundant tropical jungle just like his at Buena Fortuna.

We play, fish, stroll, and relax at the nearby beach almost daily. And star- and moon-gazing? A night doesn't feel complete without cozying up to the fire and languidly peering. Ahhh. Getting to know the wildlife in our midst is another thrill: coyote, fox, vulture, osprey, hare, and roadrunner are our neighbors - as well as los gallos who crow at first light all around La Ribera. :-)

Our only desire (now that the shower is working!)?
Families of friends to live this dream with us day-to-day.

I have been advertising to groups of like-minded folks I know, and inviting practically anyone with a dirty, smiling child and kleen kanteen. ;-) Now I've begun to really get specific with the Universe about our desires. That way it will be easier for her to find us a perfect fit! I've created an ad of sorts and sent it to some large-audienced bloggers who share my ideals. Here it is - does this sound like someone you know? Does it sound like you? Please do drop me a line. :-)

We have just moved from America to Baja Sur, Mexico, to a piece of land we are beginning to cultivate permaculturally.
The property is owned collectively, however we are the only folks of the group actually living here (mostly) full time, and the only ones with children. Our farm, called Lumbini Gardens, is a mile away from the ocean, in an area with very fertile soil and intense sunlight.
We are seeking other families to join us. I know there are folks wanting to do something like this; we just need to connect with them.
We particularly desire families with different-aged children - our daughter is three - who are interested in peace/joy-full-partnership-parenting and un/homeschooling. And of course have an interest in living on the land and practicing permaculture. Our diet is an omnivorous one which emphasizes real, nutrient dense foods with strong WAPF-paleo tendencies. We love making music and dancing, living slowly, playing at the beach and sitting by the fire under the stars.

With an open heart full of confidence in this process, and love -
Tiffanie

Hola from Baja!

2011-12-08T12:37:00.001-08:00

firelight snuggling

We're here!

However, due to some confusing bureaucratic rigamarole and wonky work scheduling for Sealion, we will be heading back up to Oregon on the 22nd, and {{{{hopefully!!!}}}} returning here as early as the 5th of January. [AFTER we visit our best friends ARLENE and BRIAN, and NEW BABY due ANY DAY NOW!!!]

I am sitting with an ocean breeze in my hair and waves crashing just a minute's stroll away. So I'm going to make this short. I know that a few of you have probably been wondering, so I wanted to check in.

After several days traveling and running around doing errands, then close to 12 hours of sleep last night(!), our camp is now mostly set up. Just being in the open air, communing with the almost-full-moon for hours by the fire, squatting just anywhere to pee, sleeping and breathing in the uninhibited and cold nighttime desert air, and of course getting some of that intense sun, I am feeling recharged and rejuvenated already. I'm ready to get to work!

Salud!

Plastic is Forever: Awesome Video from Rethinking Plastics

2011-12-03T14:54:00.000-08:00

Haven't done a public service announcement in a while.

Saw this video from the folks at Green Sangha and had to share.

Whispered by the Stars Through my Window: a poem

2011-12-01T16:53:00.000-08:00

Just got back from a nice long trip to visit with family for Thanksgiving. We had the pleasure of staying at a cabin on a wooded lake in rural North Carolina ~ owned by Sealion's sister. This place is pure, sloooow, Nature-based therapy. We always feel renewed and refreshed there. My mind and heart were so relaxed there that I even channeled a poem:

sunrise through the kitchen window:photo by my mom

There is an essence in you that is wild.
That no hours of computer screen can penetrate.

The hair on your neck
Responds to the call of the owl.
And the deepest cells of your gut are

Tugged
By the moon.
The stars still

Wash their seasonal secrets across your dreams.

So do not fear;
You cannot hide completely nor truly sever ties from your home. You were never even gone.

Surrender to the knowing
That your sweat longs to mingle with the sea.
Spread your sole bare on the earth and feel its healing. It surges with your pulse and reawakens your rhythm.

This is the deepest seduction and truest return.

Know it like the moon knows the moth.

Gratitude: In Autumn

2011-11-14T09:35:00.001-08:00

Just a little inspired note. As I said in the last post, there has been plenty in our life to love lately. I wanted to share some of that here.

Two things about Autumn here in our new space that I have absolutely relished and felt utmost gratitude for:

Abundant, sweet delicious apples straight from the tree(s). Like all other produce, they are *worlds* more flavorful freshly picked!

Bird migration. I have seen this phenomenon before in my life, but here in this open country I have such a grand view. And I've been floored by the Miraculousness of it! Every flock I hear squeaking in the distance, I stop what I'm doing and try to get a bead on them. Awe-some.

Ooo! A bonus bit of gratitude! See, Self, this gratitude stuff can be catchy! ;-)

All the little wild birds that inhabit the grounds and trees close to our home. We have a huge, productive black walnut tree, as well as a (I think..!) Mulberry bush close to our window. Seeing all the bird activity these provide for is delightful. It lifts my spirit every time I see them.

Oh, gratitude. I'm grateful for ya.

Weathering the Dark (still)

2011-11-09T10:46:00.001-08:00

On a morning when I don't really have time even to open the computer,

this blog post came to life.

Well, I do like to wrap things into tidy packages here and say, "gosh, that was hard, but things are all better!" But things are still hard. We're experiencing a lot of stress. You'd think that something we have so anticipated (such as moving to Mexico IN A MONTH) would be all roses (or at least I'd think that), but frankly it's a struggle. There are many beautiful and sweet and calm and loving moments in our days. And underlying that and .. clamping down on it, is a ... tightness. When I get to Baja, and the sun beats down, and I can dip my toe in the ocean, I will be shocked and astounded.

Last night we blew off some steam. I drank more wine than I usually do throughout the course of a whole evening (which is not very much) before we had even sat down at our table at the restaurant. And as soon as we took our seat, Anjali began what might be called our new ritual at this restaurant with chalkboard surface on the table and a little jar of multi-colored chalks. She colored very heavily a circle of purple, and then a circle of red, and then used the straw from her water to drip onto it and swirled her finger to make a paste. Then she reached over and applied it to my face as costume makeup. And while she was doing that on her side, Sealion did the same on his side, and applied it to her face. And before we knew it, we were "that family." With the colored chalk all over our face at a packed brewpub when it is no longer Halloween.

The first time this happened was last week, and Sealion started it. And I was embarrassed and looked for an excuse not to do it. Me ~ a woman who would rather wear costumes (or be naked) and have magical theatrical makeup on every day. Me ~ who considered the face painting that my daughter did at Burning Man to be no less than Sacred and wore it proudly the whole week. (I do believe what I do there to be a sacred ritual. Even, and maybe especially, the silly.) Me ~ who proclaims that Self-Expression and Art are of utmost importance in everyday life. I was embarrassed because I didn't want to draw attention to us and our un-normal-ness. And this caused me great pause. It caused me to question my values. So last night when she began smearing her chalk-pasted finger on my cheek before I even knew what was happening, I took it as an honor. And I drew some on Sealion's face. And he drew one of those silly puppet faces on his hand. And talked to the politely surprised college-age server with it.

Blowing off steam.

Even if I had to blush a little bit, you couldn't see it through the facepaint. And by the end of the evening, we were saying "Fuck it!" "Fuck all the expectations! Fuck how other people see us! Fuck it that there are packing boxes to trip over in the hallway and dirty dishes all over the kitchen!" (But we weren't saying this word so that our daughter could hear us because I have already been in the embarrassing situation where she repeated with great enunciation the curse word I pronounced at the check-out counter.... hmm. Not so good..) And it felt like quite a release.

We still managed to yell at each other just once this morning as we made our way through what needed to be done, but as Scott reminds so soothingly, "We are finding our way." "I know things are rough right now, but things have been rough before, and they felt better after a while."

We are finding our way. Blowing off steam.

Weathering the Dark

2011-11-02T11:12:00.000-07:00

though this post feels vulnerable, i'm putting it out there. we are one, right.?

Recent change in location and situation, change of season, (a several-week lag in taking nutritional supplements, on my part...), and death in our midst, shook the emotional foundation of our little family a bit. Mexico seemed like a foggy figment, very far away. I felt the need to hunker down and weather the darkness like a mama hen, collecting my little one under my wings and holding real solid and still for a while. Unable to tell the story from the eye of the storm, we are just now emerging, our ruffled feathers beginning to smooth down to a semblance of calm.

Ever the researcher, I reached for study material that felt good like a soft warm blanket in the middle of the night. I found the book Simplicity Parenting which brings order and rhythm to modern-day frenetic chaos, and Jon Young's 8 Gifts from Nature online course which teaches personal fulfillment as well as cultural repair through Deep Nature Connection.

This email from Julie Charette Nunn also felt good. Though it didn't make sense and I couldn't begin to answer her questions in the moment, I grasped onto it and read it often, like a bright scrap of paper in a sweaty palm during an intense psychedelic journey.

The yellow, red, orange, brown and black leaves are falling to earth.

Giving way

What is giving way in you?

Who are you not?

What trappings must you absolutely let go of now to live your most precious life?

This Autumn time energy is a good time [for] practicing surrender.

This Autumn time energy is a good time for eliminating what doesn't work.

Creating space for what you don't know yet.

And expecting goodness to come from the mystery.

Seeing my little girl laughing and at ease again means the world. Feeling my neck and shoulders relax after being knotted for more than a month helps, too.

photo series: grape leaves in autumn

P.S. My question, though, is: how does one honor emotions without getting bogged down in them? At some point I wondered if my dark place had simply become a grumpy habit. It was then that I tried to implement my favorite Thich Nhat Hanh's practice of smiling. A mindful smile helps us to have humor and remember that "this too shall pass."

Here's what I looked like on one of those first days of pulling myself up out of the muck and shaking my feathers out.

Yikes! That's what a sense of humor's for, right? When you see photos of yourself where you were aiming for a smile and came up with a grimace.

Ah, Life......

Can't live with it, can't live without it! There's something irresistible-ish about it!

Sending Love to Shrine

2011-10-06T16:46:00.000-07:00

Candles for Shrine. A Shrine of Candles.

Hmm.

Death is simply the other side of life, one big circle. I know that beings all around the globe are affected by death every day. Lately the veil between death and life has felt extra-thin in my neck of the woods, or more accurately, in my heart-circle.

Furry and feathered creatures.

Beloved pet Sasha Dog.

Today Sealion's uncle ended his painful struggle with terminal cancer.

May he rest well.

Right now

I want to focus all the healing intentions and warm strength to a man who has greatly influenced me and many many others, the Great artist and Wise man, Shrine. He was in a car accident, and the veil was pulled taught. I bet he even got a glimpse on the other side. Those who passionately adore him believe there is still plenty of loving and beauty for him to create yet in this time around.

Be strong, Shrine! Heal fully. Feel and receive all the love vibrations that we're all sending your way.

Let it knit you up.

Gratitude: Ten Things

2011-10-05T14:39:00.000-07:00

best buddies chomping ripe pears at the farmers' market.

Inspired (yet again) by that favorite blogger SouleMama, I thought it wholly appropriate to follow my grump session yesterday with a list of Ten Things I Love. I think hers was Simply Ten Good Things, but I'm saying, Ten Things I've Loved about Here So Far, since we just moved to Corvallis, and I haven't gotten to share with you much. Because, as real as the rain is, I have real-ly loved so many things I've discovered about our new homeplace.

~ wood burning stove

~ the stereo that came with our rental house, including a record player and a large, eclectic collection of vinyl ~ such as my right-now-favorite new-to-me classic Joan Baez in concert

~ biking away from the farm where we picked up our fresh goats' milk, after getting to meet and pet the goats!

~ fantastic farmers' markets (such a welcome homecoming!)

~ ten-plus variations of green that can be seen right outside my morning bedroom window

~ abundant backyard apple (and pear!) sauce!

~ best friends who live mere feet away

~ rose hips

~ grape stomping

~ extensive almost-daily country bicycle commuting

Photos do not necessarily match the ten things, but are of things I've loved nonetheless. ;-)

concords ripe for the stompin'.

hi, neighbor!

exotic (to me) locals at the farmers' market.

abundant, mindfully produced, staples.

stompin' feet! actually covered with blackberry juice! we did both ~ grapes and blackberries from the yard, and the nearby field. our neighbors/commune-mates are making a hefty winter brew with them both!

a couple of the many gems we've found in the record stacks: classic-classics! what a find! the little dancer approves.

more harvest time treats at the farmers' market.

can you see just how loaded this tree is with apples?! it is only a representative of the abundance we have at our disposal in the yard.

wild rose hips and more wild rose hips!

blackberries

In Autumn

2011-10-04T13:38:00.001-07:00

Oh.

I'm not ready for Autumn yet. Not ready for Fall, either. I'm trying to buck up about it, but today I'm letting myself be a little blue about it. I was not done with Summer. Oftentimes I am, but I feel like my battery was about ... 1/3 full of sunshine and warmth ~ even after our August visit to hot hot Baja Sur, and then to the hot hot desert of Black Rock City. Just gettin' started here, folks. Still fillin' up ye olde Sunshine Batterie after what feels like several years' lack. I've read my blogger friends bucking up and being cheerful about all the coziness of Autumn and then Winter. I'll do that. But not today. Today I'm dragging my feet as Mommy Autumn insists it's time to sleep.

And Oregon is serious about this tucking-in-weather. I hear it starts and then doesn't let up till ... July or so. And it has started. I asked my Oregonian friend how to cope with the onslaught of Autumn. He replied, "This place is famous for espresso, strong beer, and weed. Coincidence?" I don't drink much beer (I think my body is better off without it. Red wine sits much better with me, but even then a half-a-glass'll do me). Smoking more than occasionally makes me feel hungover and foggy the next day. And my nerves can only stand so much espresso, love it even as much as I do (and may the goddesses bless my dear family when I've gone over that line..).

I am making the effort to get out for a walk down our lovely country road every morning no matter the weather, to start the day by embracing the elements that be. I'm trying to remember to ramp up my Cod liver oil intake (for vitamin D, etc.). I'm also experimenting with a tincture of St. John's Wort (or, St. Joan's Wort, as my favorite wise woman herbalist Susun Weed calls it). (I can tell I'm doing well on the coffee and cocoa front, as evidenced by my abundant use of parentheses!) I also treated myself to a pair of luxurious sheepskin-lined shoes made right here in Corvallis (I said it: right here in Corvallis. Corvallis, Oregon) by a sweet little company of minimalist shoe makers ~ they call themselves elves :-) ~ named Soft Star Shoes, whom I am proud to promote.

Yes, we will be moving to Mexico in December (I'll try not to rub that in to Winter-dwellers too much..), but right now ~ today, as I look out the window at the thick soup of gray clouds and feel the chill nip at my toes as they curl urgently into the sheepskin, December feels a long way away.

Do you love the cool and gray, or merely tolerate it? How do you embrace it? What do you do to cope? And: What is the recipe for a "Hot Toddy?"

by the way, I realize it's time for me to change my little Intro Blurb over there to the right! Exciting!

In Oregon

2011-09-20T16:58:00.001-07:00

Just stepping out our door, here's what we saw on our first stroll down the lane. Oh, Regon.

In Oregon

2011-09-14T11:31:00.001-07:00

In Oregon fat
blackberries clutter every fencerow,
uneaten.

Oh, Burning Man!

2011-09-06T14:26:00.000-07:00

Ahh, Burning Man. After what seemed like so long away, this last week felt like a Home-Coming. I went to the desert to contact my heart and Black Rock City met me there. I gave myself fully to the playa and it returned the gift tenfold.
The theme being Rites of Passage, and the event not only sold out but in fact over-sold(!Oops!!), the energy of the population felt extra-energetic (if that is possible), full of gratitude, exuberant and intentional. The city was alive and full-blast before Monday even started, playa friendliness in the traffic in Tahoe.
Sealion and I, individually and collectively, experienced the most easy-going, laid-back, non-anxious or angsty Burn we've ever had. It was All Good. Having our super-stellar Burning Nanny, Ivy, there offering even more help than we wanted was a blessing. But then, so was having Anjali there. When she and I ventered out together I felt as if I were escorting the pope (haha!! Great pun, eh?) because of the blessings she bestowed on so many grateful folks. Having the relationship that we do, I still didn't stay out all night as I have in years past, but neither did I want to [zzzz!!]; She provided a welcome tether and snuggly haven from the frenetic nighttime drive to go go go! With full nights' sleep I was able to devote myself clearly and mindfully to the cool watercolor sunrise and daytime interactions that Feed me so much more nowadays than late-latenight dancing to music that really doesn't jiggle my wiggle for the most part.
I did some real work in the self-reflection department. I met issues head-on (and I hope to have the time to share more with you here soon). I explored and examined the rooms and spaces of my mind amd heart, scrubbed out some dusty cobwebs, found and swept clutter that is not serving me. That magic I lost? It was inside my heart all along. I just needed a good strong mirror to help me see it and re-member how to use it. I re-discovered (uncovered) sensuality and sexuality, desire and creativity. I let my heart crack open for the first time in a long while and let the love flow freely. All of this going on on the inside while connecting deeply with kindred spirits - good old friends and even a few new ones. Beauty. Expression. Sunrise and sunset. Crisp night air and penetrating sun. Freedom. Positive intentions and connecting vibes. Healing movement and energy. Art.
I went in deep for full immersion and the city fed me like an abundant mama's overflowing round breast.

Re-entry into the outside world has usually been hard for me. I Burned so bright and crashed so hard. But this year somehow feels different. I feel like instead of flying too high and then not knowing how to land, my toes just rooted deeper into the Earth to become even more solidly grounded. The wings that once carried me precariously have become strong and supple branches.

Just the pilgrimage I needed for changes at hand. Rite. Of Passage [yes, you may go]. I am grate-full.

Here We Go!

2011-08-28T12:35:00.000-07:00

(imagine the title yelled with Jane's Addiction enthusiasm and inflection.)

(and after that, the soundtrack for this post is Ellen McIlwaine's "Wings of a Horse".)

Well, I have started so many attempts at writing this here. So many explanations and Grand Picture analogies, but they fall short. This is yet another piece of my life that I just can't effectively shake a word at to do it any justice. It just feels so epic to me and beyond the scope of logic and reason and what makes sense on the outside.

So I'll just say it:

Yes, we are moving to Mexico in December.

But before that, we're moving to Oregon. We're moving our American homebase to Corvallis, Oregon, where Sealion will have work, and where we will be living in a building just a few steps away from Gemini Cricket and family ~ La Señora Picante Honeybee, and La Señorita Pequeña Firefly. That's right; my ex-husband, and his wife ~ who happens to be the ex-girlfriend of my husband ~ and their kid. We're moving there the first week of September. And when we move down South for the winter, they'll be coming too.

And before all of that, we're all going to Burning Man.

Umm. In just a few minutes. :-)

All along as we've been planning this move to Mexico ~ way before the *exes* were even a part of the story, I have felt the need to appear as level-headed and solid as possible. No matter my beliefs to the contrary, I tend to spend an exorbitant amount of time imagining what other people think about me and what I do (and in the process trying not ever to offend anyone). To my inner judge, this Big Life Change just seems so off-the-charts un-usual, un-practical, and strange that I think I have attempted to overcompensate inside myself by projecting an Abbott persona to the Costello of a scheme we have going. An "I know it's Crazy, but I'm really not," kinda vibe. ;-)

Then my Inner Artist began to resurface. Drawing for the first time in decades, and shaking the dust (and oiling the rust!) out of my dancing hips. And before I knew what was happening, there was the slight hint of sage smoke on the air with a sprinkling of glitter: my Inner Artist wanted to go to Burning Man. The pragmatic tortoise that I had been channeling all this time fought this notion. She chastised, saying, "We can't go to Burning Man! That is just altogether Frivolous! We are trying to be Level-Headed and Practical! And on top of that, we just have way Too Much to Do before we move to Mexico!" My heart hurt and welled forth through my eyes. My Inner Artist would not let the idea go. I sat down with it and pondered. My heart took me back to my first year on the playa.

At the tail-end of a kaleidoscopic mind-and-heart-expanding journey, Sealion and I found ourselves in a corridor of colorful lights that danced in time with music that was blaring from all sides. The song: Seal's "Crazy." "Oh we're never gonna survive unless we get a little crazy." We jumped up and down dancing in exuberant acknowledgment. As I remembered this, it struck me, still resonating deep truth. Yes, moving to a big piece of dirt in the tropical desert of rural Mexico to grow foods following Nature's example, with nary a flush-toilet, or even walls and floors, building and making as much as we can from scratch and in such a manner that it will actually benefit instead of hinder the land and the surrounding community, is quite on the fringe of what is considered normal and "Sane" in Standard America today. We can analyze up one side and down the other the wisdom, folly, benefits and dysfunction that surround modern America and its influence on the world (and I bet you can guess my opinions on the matter without my having to go into a tirade about it..). But regardless of that and even whether we (deviants) realize it, deviating from the norm takes some energy. It takes an internal explosion or two. It takes a little bit of Crazy. And so it makes all the "sense" in the world that as I'm getting ready to make these leaps in personal space and boundaries, in levels of personal comfort, exertion, and interpersonal harmony and communication, that my Inner Artist ~ the one who connects the creative dots from heart to head to body ~ must re-connect with Source. Return to Center. Make the pilgrimage to Mecca and bow before the Goddess. Re-member with my whole being that I am She (the one I've been looking for).

Click the Reset button on what is Possible. And remember how to fly. My Inner Artist knows that to survive and indeed thrive in this Big New Life I would do well to let go of trying to seem Normal and Practical, and instead get a little Crazy.

Photos from Baja

2011-08-24T12:14:00.000-07:00

Here's an album of our recent trip to Lumbini Gardens. Not in chronological order, and quite a few duplicates, because we were using several different cameras. But you get the idea: good people, good work, lots of sweat, spectacular landscape, and heavenly floating sessions in the ocean with accompanying incredible sunsets.

A Riff with Camera: Sunset on Ocean with Mountains and Swimmers

2011-08-22T14:14:00.000-07:00

Here I am!

2011-08-21T12:33:00.000-07:00

Hola!

I haven't been silent, but instead, forgot to sign off on the mic before another week-plus trip down to Baja ~ our last visit before we move there in December!

It was hot. The heat with its accompanying humidity was even more challenging than I expected. After several days I reached one level of acclimatizing, but I suspect there are many more levels to reach before one feels comfortable ~ like many of the locals I saw in San Jose going about their daily lives ~ wearing tight jeans and tight knit tops (and even sweaters! *gasp!!*) without sweat drenching through the whole ensemble or literally keeling over.

We spent the week ~ like the white-bellied creatures we are ~ under the blessed palapa, with urgently-acquired fans trained on us. Until the sun went behind the hills when we would enjoy with exuberance the short respite. At that point, every day, Sealion very firmly insisted he must stop working so that we could all go seek relief in the ocean until dark. Still with fans on high pointed directly at us, we slept in the tent on top of the sheet with sometimes only minimal comfort until morning when we would rouse as early as possible to be awake for a few moments before the sun beat down relentless again. The upside to this is that we needn't worry about sun shirts or sunscreen, because the sun was too intense for our gringo bodies to be exposed for more than a few minutes, literally.

"Impressed" was the word I came away with. The August elements left a deep and lasting impression on me.

Still, and yet, I look at the photos I took over the course of the week, and the ones of myself, and see that in every instant in every place on the spectrum of comfort-to-discomfort I was Alive.

I woke up with the sounds of the wild tweeting birds in the foreground and los gallos in the background. I breathed in and out with the sometimes-din of the cicadas as they seemed to embody in sound the humid heat. I scurried with the lizards under the junked car in the brush and frolicked with the jackrabbits as they rolled in dust. Sweat poured from pores I didn't know existed. And when the sun began to tuck behind the mountains my eyes were wide as I roamed the property with camera to absorb every contrast of long crisp shadow on desert surface. Then there was the ocean. My whole body drank in the ocean and I was the wave and the tide as it surged to meet the rising full moon. Every night I sat with eyes upturned in worship of the moonlit and starry sky. And when it thundered and lightninged in the middle of the night, my daughter and I dashed outside to dance hand-in-hand in the raindrops.

I was Alive with a life pared down to the elemental. Sun and shade, water and salt and air, dirt and wood and stone. Papaya and tequila.

Crafty: Boy and a Solar Water Heater

2011-08-04T08:58:00.000-07:00

This guy right here? I love 'im. Not the highest quality photo of his process, but that look on his face? Pure handcrafting bliss of the highest level. That's the essence-de-Sealion, there. Heart-melty for sure.

Just as I have been obsessed with our upcoming adventure, certainly Sealion has been. His obsession manifested into a Batch Solar Water Heater to take to Lumbini Gardens. Every morning he could, he snuck out there early and worked as quietly as possible until a reasonable neighborly hour to make noise sawing, sanding, drilling, and I don't know all what else. ;-) Now it is finished, and poised in Brian's sunny backyard to see just how hot it can get. Sealion goes to check the thermometer(s!) on it several times a day to monitor temperature fluctuation. He's so adorably nerdy about it.

Manly chiseling shot con assistant.

Sanded and painted.

Upstairs neighbor, supervising.

Box with the beginnings of insulation.

Ahhh! It is complete! With the lighting it is kind of hard to see the tank, chained in place inside the box, with all other surfaces covered in shiny aluminum..

Bravo!!!

Return of a Dancer

2011-07-26T13:54:00.000-07:00

watercolor pencil drawing by...me!

I share this with deep gratitude to Andrea. !

We're Moving to Mexico!

2011-07-21T13:19:00.001-07:00

Anjali inside the tape that marked the outline of the palapa, which is now built.

Coupla' lunatics on their way back from doin' some work.

Outdoor kitchen bliss.

In the dirt.

Sunset on the nearby La Ribera beach.

Headlamp matched by moonlight.

We're moving to Mexico!

This is the sentence that keeps dancing through my head lately. Not just a dream, though I dream about it plenty; not just a fantasy, though it is fantastic to me; not even a goal, but soon: a goal reached. And when I wake up in the middle of the night to pee or by some noise outside our urban bedroom window, if I don't go right back to sleep you can be sure that I'm thinking about details of that big piece of dusty dirt in southern Baja.

We're moving there in December. And delightfully ~astonishingly~ there is a small band of fellow lunatics who will be joining us for a while to howl at the moon Baja-style. When we get there we'll be sleeping in our tent under the big palapa, while we build an earthbag structure to shield us from the elements at night. We'll be taking solar-heated showers and composting our poop. Adopt a flock of chickens almost immediately for eggs and scorpion duty(!), and soon after, some dairy goats!

From there the list of daydreams goes on and on. Happily, I have returned to journal-writing this year. It has been a fertile time to write. Very often I spend pages and pages visualizing the many (eventual) facets of living there at Lumbini Gardens. :-) Right now it is a flat piece of dust with a hill of cacti. But in my mind it is a thriving permaculture jungle oasis that attracts people from around the world to study and teach and build and plant and harvest, to make and contribute art, lively conversation, music and dance, around a table filled with produce we harvested after a rewarding day of cultivation and tending (Tiffanie romantic run-on at its best, right there!). I see my family thriving from being in a much more relaxed culture, and from simple, Earth-based day-to-day living. Hands in the dirt, skin regularly bathed in bright sunshine, sunsets reflected off the ocean, evenings by crackling firelight and starshine.

And in between are all the juicy, dirty, nitty-gritty details. ;-) Learning to live in a foreign culture. Really use a different language for everyday getting by. Learning permaculture ~ not just the theory in books, but played out on real land with its own particular medley of circumstances. Deciding from deep experience on favorite and least favorite parts of outdoor-based living. Animal husbandry. Living in the desert, and away from American West Coast city amenities. Haha. These are the ones that my mind gets cranking on if I don't fall back asleep at night.

It is at the far-reaches of what I personally consider possible. It is far from the existence I witness around me in Standard America. It is what I've always wanted. Beginning in my childhood when Laura Ingalls Wilder's books and visits to my grandparents' working farm were forever-imprinted on the landscape of my imagination, to college literature classes falling in love with the world and worldview of Wendell Berry, to recent times when all I see is pointing me back to the ways of our ancestors, this is what makes sense to me. This is what I see myself doing.

Alive!

2011-07-16T14:11:00.001-07:00

this is a quote for which I haven't found the official source yet, but it is attributed to the Hopi Elders. It feels appropriate here.

...Banish the word struggle from your attitude and your vocabulary.

All that we do now must be done in a sacred manner and in celebration.

We are the ones we've been waiting for.

Ahh!

I'm having such trouble *explaining* to you about all that I'm thinking and feeling lately! I sit to describe it and the words turn in on themselves and I'm left panting and searching with my eyes.

Perhaps I could instead share with you some sketches I've done for the first time in years to show you pictorially, or maybe a dance would describe it ~ because I've been doing a lot of that too. Or if that didn't quite convey it, maybe I could do a few cartwheels in an open sunny, grasshopper-jumping, clover blossomed field ~ because I've been doing a little of that too. Or even the old standby, the kitchen, has been housing quite a bit of activity in the past few days; maybe I could show you all the meals I've been jazzed to make.

Well, nope; I'm still not getting it by writing here. I just deleted several paragraphs of attempts. So I'll share the experience of the above photo:

Here I am on a hike in Tahoe on the 3rd of July. See that white stuff in the background? It's snow. The water I am emerging from is a collection of actively-melting snow. I stepped over the snow to get into the water. It was so cold. It took courage to work up to jumping in, but with the en-couragement of my husband (who had jumped in pretty much after my suggesting it) and my daughter (wading exuberantly naked), it was the only thing to do. And I'm so glad I did it! Invigoration x 100, there was no way not to know you're alive and be 100% in the moment as I clamored to the surface.

As urgent as it felt to get my head out of the water, as I was emerging, I was also thinking, "I wanna do this every day!" In an instant, every cell of my body was re-vived and coursing with exhilaration. I felt energized, but even more importantly, I felt sooo satisfied with, and grateful for, my decision to follow through and jump in that water.

And this is the way it is with me lately. Actively, purposefully, I have been practicing expanding my heart and making choices to move myself closer to Yes ~ closer to the natural animal life that is the birthright of all Earth inhabitants. It was, and remains an effort. But I am beginning to reap the rewards of this discipline. Each step that I take feels more natural, and every movement, instead of taxing me, is giving me energy! My awakening grows deeper by the day. I feel vibrant and lively!

I am an animal, alive on this planet!

And that's as close I'm gonna come to explaining it to you for now.

Let's not talk; let's just go fly in a sun-drenched morning meadow with the dragonflies.

Every Little Thing

2011-07-11T17:05:00.000-07:00

There are so many huge things bouncing around taking space in my mind lately that it is hard for the words to slip their way through. I have about three lengthy posts going all at once and am stuttering on each of them. And more importantly, I am spending as much time as possible outside and away from this luminescent box. Still the little narrator does not shut up in my head these days. ;-)

I take things so seriously. Even though everything that we're working towards in our life is just exactly what I want, things still weigh so heavily on me. I could use some laughter or weightlessness therapy. You know that too-cute saying, "Angels can fly because they take things lightly."
Well, luckily the little person in my life adds much levity. So I thought this would be a nice little break in between all the heavy topics I seem to want to write about.

(And of course she croons this without help and then as soon as I bring up the camera she gets quiet but that is understandable. It still melts my heart every time.)

Thank you thank you thank you for the sweet reminder.

(And, um, yeah. I never figured out how to fix that last post.)

Reunion in Berkeley: part II: Art

2011-06-29T08:21:00.000-07:00

once again i am left dumbfounded by blogger's incomprehensible nuances. i didn't write this in this all-caps font, and now cannot change it, try as i may. in my "preview" it does not show up wonky, then when i publish it it is all amiss. apologies and curses! shoo! i will try to change it; this abomination must not stand!

Sri Tarasita performing her Green Tara piece in Devotion 2008.

While I was and wasn't eating I had the opportunity and pleasure of soaking in art in so many forms: the expression inherent in the Bay Area ~ the hyper-style of San Francisco ~ tattoos, hipster fashion (love it and hate it), all the murals, public sculpture and the overflowingness of front-yard-garden-meets-art, and easy freaxpression (I like that) that I have come to consider the norm (which is actually not the norm. but should be.). My TT and her way of dressing and adorning herself, and of course SuperKate and her signature style. Staying in the Shochat house I was floored once again by the sheer art of the place - the architecture for one, the paint and decor, but mainly the awesomely prolific amount of art created by Ashley. Thought-provoking, playful, and/or beautiful. Collages and paintings on every wall. Add to that art of the organic variety in the form of abundant mature gardens. If you consider that yoga is an artwork of discipline and form, this woman's life is all art.
And then there was the dance, the reason we came together in the first place. Rich kaleidoscopic weaving and patterning of ancient language, at once sensual, maternal, sisterly, and spiritual. Pretty. And beautiful.
Piled on top of that, I have last night's vocal recital here in Sac of sweet Arlene and her fellow students. Which reminds me of the abundant and inspiring guitar and vocal play during Miles's birthday bash a few weeks ago. Then finding old friend and fellow cast-member Shrine's website all over again (wooow). AND witnessing the resurgence of lovely Woo's artistic musings.!
In all my obsession about our upcoming move, Permaculture, primitive living and re-skilling, goat-herding and sheep shearing, pre-agrarian life and eating (I have been quite the nerd lately..)(almost left out beekeeping and seaweed harvesting!), I feel as if Art has bowled me over ~ hip-bumped me into a tailspin with all of its tattooed and bejeweled heart-gushing expression.
It has led me to wondering: where has my art gone?
Loved ones will not let me get regretful or wistful about this (haha I have tried. ;-). I have been reminded more than once that a life led mindfully is in itself artistic. And I agree. Bringing food to the table is in its essence creative. And writing is a creative act. Certainly parenting is an all-important constant act of in-the-moment creation. But the food I prepare is mainly humble daily meals, and is not always, ahem, inspired (especially lately. boy have i been uninspired in the cooking department lately. yeesh.). The writing I do is quite cerebral for the most part. And as much as I 100% love being a full-time mommy, I don't believe a woman's personal creative life ends when her child's life begins; on the contrary ~ you can't model how to live a full life unless you actually have a life!

Perhaps life's ebb and flow requires that certain aspects of our many-faceted natures take the spotlight at certain times while others wait in shadow. And, as it is a cyclical journey, the tide turns so that other gifts and passions may express themselves again if we allow for it. This is what I'm hoping today. In spite of, or maybe even because of the Bigness that our upcoming Big Change is demanding of us, I am feeling a longing, a lustful tear-stained calling from my inner Artist, who has been resting, recovering and healing. Quite impractical. Not at all pragmatic. Just as we are dragging the moving boxes back up from the storage room to be filled yet again so soon, I am urgently seeking a canvas on which to collage, and have set aside ~ several days in a row ~ time in front of the mirror devoted in earnest to dance.

Inside the program for Arlene's recital, the director, James C. Glica-Hernandez writes, "Learning to sing is a very personal process... [Students of voice] must overcome their fears and find their willingness to allow the sound of their voices pass their hearts to share that sound with others." I feel as if my heart is welling up with so much, I must open my mouth or else explode!

This incantation which was shared by a sister really knocked me over with its imagery. I told her if it were oil, I would bathe in it. Let it fuse with my own skin. It is my prayer now.

A Prayer for Calling Up Song
by Angela Galik
Rise, music, out of the Earth!
I feel it below me and just beyond this world.
A cavern full of sound, a storm trapped beneath a mountain
howls at the edge of my throat.
I burn to let it sing through me!
Rise up, music, in me and devour me--
When I open my mouth I want a rainbow cloud to come out
that covers my body from sight, and wipes away my face
so that the song does not go by my name.
And from this cloud as thunder and lightning, fierce and ecstatic,
crackling, roaring, drumming, brilliantly radiant,
deep as the oldest stone,
comes the music of the ageless universe, renewing itself,
the infinite, revealing and creating self.
Oh spirit I beg that you fill me
and that you erase me!
Unhinge my jaw and open my mouth as wide as a serpent's
and let flow out from me the flood that presses against my heart
from beyond--music of the Other World,
voices of thousands of beings expanding together into each note.
They who sang us into existence are singing our next age now,
and their song can lift us--and make us ready.
Oh Goddess, these songs are straining inside of me
like wild angels!
When this music comes into the world,
it will fill us and change us,
we will understand the right way to live
and begin out lives anew,
this time doing what we were meant to be doing
all along. Our hearts will be tuned to a true note
and we will learn how to praise, and never cease praising.
We will know what to do to care for our precious world,
and harmony and beauty will be the air that we breathe,
and the ocean we all swim in will be love.

Growing..growing..

2011-06-27T15:32:00.000-07:00

Reunion in Berkeley: part I

2011-06-24T14:46:00.000-07:00

I've decided to split this into two parts, as I have a whole bunch of food photos, yet the second half of this essay took on a life of its own. ;-)

Hello! I'm back here in Sacramento after having spent several days in Berkeley with my dear friend TT while she and our other dear friend SuperKate took part in a bellydance performance. And although I'm weaning back down from espresso, I'm sipping on some right now, and have about a billion and two things bouncing around in my head and heart.

One thing that is floating around in there is this:

Totally random, I know, but: that's me! I forgot. So I guess this post will be about what I took away from my stay in Berkeley after moving away nine months ago.

First off, is that my time living in Berkeley really was, officially, All About the Food. Revisiting there for almost a week, I had reunions to attend ~ at all my favorite restaurants. I said hello-and-I-miss-you to Saul's, Guerilla, Bette's, Venus, Tacubaya, Corso and Cafe Rouge, and then Mission Beach Cafe and Magnolia in the city (sweet jesus! i really ate at all of those places! no wonder i feel like drinking dandelion root tea and eating salads for a month!). And of course my beloved Three Stone Hearth ~ although deeply rooted in food and food knowledge (the beginning, source, and school for the nutritional and cooking knowledge I practice today), the people there are who tie me to it. And I cannot forget the birthday party we were honored to attend in celebration of Austin. It was the most sophisticated gourmet well-orchestrated potluck I will ever attend ~ but then how can I be surprised considering the birthday boy who held the conductor's baton! Yes; the week was a tour-de-force of gustatory delight (and geez were we right about moving from there being a boon for our budget!)! (aha i am connecting that espresso may be a leading cause of parenthetical asides..!)

Some highlights caught on film. A true quality eating experience must include good company. I'm so lucky.

plate of housemade pickles at Magnolia. the grapes were pickled with tea leaves.
ker-mis-chief at Magnolia

Anjali totally cracked-out from a very rare, very decadent cupcake at Uncle Austin's birthday party
beef marrow at Cafe Rouge ~ oh yes, we did!

Mission Beach Cafe
Austin posing at Cafe Rouge so I could get a secret shot of Troy's and my "Berkeley synchronicity": that dude with the dreads. ;-D
hot chocolate and Mohammed Ali at Guerilla Cafe
with the excellent and sweet cooks in the background, gorgonzola custard on a bed of arugula with roasted cherries and peck at Corso ~ phenomenal!!

Mexican cafe at Tacubaya

the best tortillas in town, dipped in egg yolk, at Tacubaya

Savoring: a Breath in the Midst of Busy

2011-06-15T08:37:00.001-07:00

I've invited my old favorite stimulant back into my life for the moment after an almost six-month hiatus: espresso. Because I'm BUSY! I went from having page-upon-page of blank calendar weeks to having too much to keep up with!
I have so much I want to share with you - stories, photos, epiphanies and synchronicity, Big Change, but for now I'm still running. (And damn it the laptop still needs some TLC by a genius, so computer work is greatly slowed.)

So I'll leave this space with a soothing Moment to savor: Sharing juicy-ripe cherries with my little sweetie on our front porch on the first official hot day of summer we have had here in Sacramento.
Gratefully I was not multi-tasking; I was right there right then.

Images from Lumbini Gardens

2011-06-04T13:23:00.000-07:00

I at least wanted to share some images with you, until I can get back here to tell you more about our recent trip to Lumbini Gardens in Baja California Sur, Mexico. For now, I'm preparing for another trip. This time to Oregon. Weeee!

palapa!!

Lumbini henna

La Ribera beach, just a mile or so from the property

A Moment: Savored

2011-06-01T17:20:00.000-07:00

Gratitude: For Friends

2011-05-31T16:33:00.000-07:00

Oh. So grateful.

A rite of passage, a coming together to celebrate loved ones, appreciate Nature, share meals, make music. And breathe ~ away from the hustle of the modern-day.

I am honored to be included in such a group.

A Month in Baja: the Beginning

2011-05-31T12:01:00.000-07:00

I wrote this on the plane on the way to Baja last week. I didn't get to send it before we arrived and then returned, but I want to go ahead and put it out there. Not complete at all, but a start.

Flying to Baja for a five-day stay!

Haha. I'm laughing once again because it seems this story really wants to take its own time, to have itself turned over again and again in my mind and heart before I send it out in its entirety. I am in the air now, on the second leg of our journey, having just finished the most fluid, productive writing session I have had with this yet. Insights materialized and made their way into words. We were preparing to land, and I saved the draft and --- it disappeared into nothingness. Again. The second time that's happened in flight. I sure hope I can find a way to save this this time so that it actually makes it to you!

This story - of my initial experiences at Lumbini Gardens - is very important to me to write. More for myself than anyone else. As I've said before, it's a challenge for me to write about the Big Stuff. Small talk of the everyday type is safe and solid. The Big Stuff is.. important. Risky. I get tongue-tied.

Let me stop preambling and just get to it, for I don't have the time to write about it today, either, just as I haven't every other day. This may be the door-opening that allows for further insights later. And actual details as opposed to mere metaphorical waxings. ;-) And photos. :-)

Perhaps the most important thing I realized during our month-long stay in Baja California Sur, Mexico, was that, while a month is a long time for a vacation, and every day manages to pack in a million feelings and experiences, a month is not even a beginning for really getting to know a place. It's not even an introduction or a prologue; it is a first paragraph. Wendell Berry and Permaculture as a whole keep reminding me that to know a place takes a lifetime of infinite minute-upon-minute inhales and exhales of attention.

Much like a forest grows from a field with many successive generations of plants doing different jobs, my experience of the property called Lumbini Gardens has only just stepped into the pioneer plants - the "weeds" that make the way for redbuds, that in their turn shade the soil for the oaks. I braced myself at the somedays-seemingly-relentless winds, the sun that penetrates as soon as it makes a shadow, and the scorpions that not only crawled into my suitcase and across my foot, but also into my dreams. I am confident that these will be the brambles that are laughed about once our hands are dyed purple, and our buckets and tummies are full of berries.

We started our endeavor first thing with an intention: of remembering that we are the newcomers and guests here. We are not here to elbow the uncomfortable or inconvenient out of the way, but to ask the beings who already inhabit this place for their permission and approval. And their guidance: to show us how to survive and thrive in this environment that is so new and foreign to us. To humble ourselves to the roles of students and followers, not conquerers. Not even farmers, but partners and collaborators.

Growing...growing

2011-05-22T08:52:00.000-07:00

Intentional: A Poem

2011-05-15T12:26:00.000-07:00

Got a chance (and remembered!) to do some journaling while my sweetiepies were out. Started out bitching and then remembered gratitude. Ahhh. Here's what flowed. And then some.

the sunlight that radiates

support from Life around me.

It wants me to thrive!

I stretch

to welcome

Change.

Getting Out the Door

2011-05-15T11:29:00.000-07:00

At the "Duck Pond Park." An outing with Papi doesn't quite count as officially "getting out the door," because he has so much self-generated momentum. But outside = outside = good.

See that expression on his face? That's him melting with papa-pleasure at his snuggling girl.

Tiny ducklings! (Only one is pictured.) Hear that sound? That's me squealing with the over-abundance of cute-itude.

Full sun doesn't make for the best photos, but I absolutely love poppies.

Fragrant yucca. Another thing I love: the incredible "Tahoe Blue" sky we get to enjoy in Summertime Sacramento.

Beauty in Motion: School of Sardines

2011-05-14T11:30:00.000-07:00

At the Monterey Bay Aquarium. Thanks for the guest passes, Alyssum and Ben! :-)

I could have watched these sardines all day. They are just about the most beautiful thing I've seen.

(You could, however, leave the sound off. The sardines are much more soothing without the throngs of schoolchildren as background noise and commentary!)

My Mother's Day

2011-05-13T11:32:00.000-07:00

This Mother's Day I treated myself: to a cheesemaking class at Love Apple Farm in Santa Cruz. We covered four different "soft" cheeses ~ chevre, feta, mozzarella, and ricotta, made with pasteurized goat's and cow's milk, and then raw cow's and goat's milk (surprise surprise: the teacher of the class prefers raw milk to pasteurized. She says it makes far superior cheese). Though I have made mozzarella and a couple other simple cheeses before, it was nice to have someone who knows what she's doing take me step by step. The highlight of the class for me ~ and, really, what tipped me over the edge to sign up for it ~ was that we got to milk a goat. Interestingly, during my high school years I lived on a dairy goat farm. But I never even thought about milking a goat; I had no interest and was not required to. But Sunday ~ what a thrill it was! And how intimate it felt to me, grasping her warm, very soft and silky udder and expressing warm milk. I couldn't help but talk to her and thank her. I think especially because Anjali and I are still in a breastfeeding relationship, it felt pertinent and close to my heart ~ on Mother's Day, no less. It was also a surprisingly simple movement to express the milk; perhaps it made intuitive sense because of shared mammal-hood. After the class, I waited for Sealion and Anjali to pick me up and was hanging around talking with the goats in their pasture. The farmhands walked up and invited me to help them milk the goats. So I got to milk a goat to completion, as opposed to just an introductory teaser, like in class. And then Sealion showed up and he got to milk too (Anjali missed out due to carseat naptime). Definitely an activity that comes quicker with practice. And I couldn't help but feel like a modern "city slicker," oozing with novel pleasure the way I did at a chore that was for centuries a mundane activity for many. I look forward to a time in the foreseeable future when milking time can be a habitual twice-daily chore for me, too.

A couple of the girls out in their gorgeous pasture.

Breathtaking location of Love Apple Farm, which includes a stand of mature redwoods. The horizon is the ocean.

Instructor Fiona in her kitchen classroom.

Embarrassingly cheesy (haha!) grin on my face ~ *blush!*

Hand-pulled mozzarella with four preparations: no-salt and barely-pulled, no-salt and pulled, salted and barely-pulled, salted and pulled. Can you tell the difference? The taste and texture were remarkable.

Chevre wheel decorated with edible flowers ~ nasturtium, viola, and chrysanthemum.

Outro de hilarity: what Papi and Anjali were doing while I was in class. ;-D

I notice the photos are cut off a bit when using Flickr.. I sure don't feel like fixing that...

Vultures: A Story

2011-05-10T12:56:00.000-07:00

So glad to finally get to this; I told you I might, and I did! Here's to long return flights with a solidly-napping babe! Coffee. And a splash (or two) of somethin'.

As independent study credit during my last (official) year of undergrad school, I assisted Kentucky writer Normandi Ellis. I went to her home every week, did editing and cataloging for a book, and other interesting stuff. She was a powerful mysterious woman around 50 whose personal veil between the seen and the unseen worlds was thinner than most ~ perhaps by nature or by practice, probably a little of both. Her home was cluttered with time-collected detail ~ art, trinkets, dark velvet ~ and thickly dusted with incense and cigarette smoke, feminine and witchy energy. Normandi was a scholar of Egyptian myth. As she was writing her second book on it, it permeated her life. Around the first corner past the entrance, guarding a plush burgundy couch, her living room showcased a large print on papyrus of an Egyptian-styled vulture - gilt, black and red. I had grown up thinking of vultures as harbingers of decay. However in Egyptian understanding (as in Nature, truly), vultures clear away the old to allow for the new; A crone-wise harbinger of Change. The ancient Egyptian pantheon reveres a vulture-headed deity.

As I studied and worked with Normandi, I steeped my own subconscious deeply in mythology. I also found myself engaged to my four-year boyfriend, Gemini Cricket. More importantly (to us), we were readying ourselves (as much as one can) for a bicycle voyage from our homestate of Kentucky to the west coast of Washington state. As our departure (and wedding) drew close, we set out on a dress-rehearsal overnight tour of Land Between the Lakes in western Kentucky. That night after starlit pre-nuptial campsite fun, we lay in our brand-new tent, sticky with self-generated humidity. I dreamt in technicolor detail that that ancient vulture from Normandi Ellis's wall was scratching at our zip-up screened door. Pulling and tugging. Peck, peck.
Change indeed.
After that, vultures and buzzards appeared to me in my waking life as a friendly indicator that I should take note for potential life change.

Winter, seven years later, I tooled down an unfamiliar road, waving my hands and sing-shouting along with every word of Ani DiFranco's Evolve. It was an unseasonably warm and crisp day so I was able to open the window and howl at the countryside; I sing when I'm nervous. I was on my way to meet my mom for a meal and try to make like all was fine and "normal" in my life. I passed a tree ~ an old, tall, solitary fencerow tree ~ that was so loaded with buzzards, it appeared to be clothed in black leaves. I almost ran off the road.

That next Spring, Gemini and I filed for divorce.

Time passed. Wounds healed. Life renewed and blossomed. I forgot about vultures for a long while.

I set up the camp kitchen in the shady shelter of the neem tree for our first day of several weeks camping at Lumbini Gardens in Baja Sur, Mexico. The gusty wind made setting up the tent impossible and frequently knocked off my sunhat. Anjali sought the comfort and shelter of the Land Cruiser. While Sealion labored in the elements to establish electricity, there were things I could do to make our outdoor living area feel a little more homey. I made a batch of "limón tea," organized and wiped the desert dust off the blue-with-white speckled enamel plates. I separated produce that can be in open desert air vs. produce that must be kept in the coolers. As I worked, I noticed the long slow shadows of birds flying in my periphery and thought, "Uh-oh. I hope those aren't buzzards; that seems like bad luck." It wasn't till later that I remembered my connection with those prescient creatures. Everyday a few of them (they are turkey vultures down there) made their rounds, scouring with their senses the desert scrub that surrounded us on all sides.
"You too?" I thought to them. "Oh, good - so it's not just me; this is a big one."

One for the Sky

2011-05-04T13:34:00.000-07:00

I say a Kentucky funeral calls for the proper inflight beverage.

An Impressionistic Etude

2011-04-30T13:50:00.000-07:00

Of shadows of the same tree on walls throughout the day.

Getting Out the Door

2011-04-28T15:15:00.000-07:00

Why is it so hard for me? Yet sooo necessary.

Gratitude abounds for a bikeride that found its way to my favorite spot in town!* The Capitol Rose Garden in full splendor. The sun hinted at its Sacramento summer intensity to come. As we sat on a bench in the center for a snack-break, intense perfume floated on the breeze from all directions.

Good medicine for mind, body, and spirit.

A ridiculous array of roses in all directions!

Meditation on beauty and breath.

Gossamer-winged friend.

Giggling at myself yet again, realizing how perfectly this fits in with my recent flower-sex theme. ;-) I swear, I just love flowers; sex didn't even cross my mind as I basked in this radiance!

Growing...

2011-04-27T12:48:00.000-07:00

Few things come to mind as hope-full as a seedling.

Easter

2011-04-26T12:58:00.000-07:00

I have been laughing at myself quite a bit lately.

Here's the juxtaposition of what was going on around me for Easter even as I fantasized about flower sex.* ;-) Attempting to fashion another sincere family seasonal celebration out of the ashes of religious holy-days that no longer resonate with my heart. With my very-much-still-Believing mom there ~ not wanting to hurt her feelings, but not wanting to compromise my own values, either. Touchy.

And then there's all the consumeristic, materialistic, sugar-cracked-out layers that our modern-day culture has piled on top of all the holidays (ancient, as well as Hallmark-created)! What's a mindful, Earth- and real-food-loving, home-making mama to do?!

The always answer: her best at the moment.

We dyed eggs using vinegar in water with turmeric, purple cabbage, and a mixture of beet powder and hibiscus tea.

I couldn't help trying to dye some fabric, too (inspired by SouleMama); I love dying fabric! The one that took best: the turmeric, by far.

Who knew that hibiscus and beet powder don't dye pink, or red, or purple, but grey! I dug the results.

I made sourdough Hot Cross Buns substituting freshly-milled, sifted spelt flour, a little bit of dehydrated cane juice, and lots of butter and eggs!

These did not last long.

And I made candy sweetened with a touch of honey ~ lavender-colored candies made from coconut butter and freeze-dried raspberries and strawberries (colored with hibiscus tea, and loosely using this recipe as a guide), and chocolates with almonds ~ with mostly carob and a bit of cacao (using roughly the same ingredients as I used here). And HOLY SHIT was using the actual cocoa a lesson-learned! I really feel for parents who allow their children to have sugar regularly; Anjali was an altogether different [and obnoxious] child after eating that chocolate!. I didn't get a photo of the candies; I shaped them like eggs and wrapped them in aluminum foil, which I thought made them look more like little pieces of foil headed for the trash (or recycling ~ right?). Oh well. They were peeled in seconds once discovered by my little Easter "bummy" anyway. ;-)

Geez do I look tired ~ PMS while parents visit for a week? Bring it on!

The smile must be from taste-testing that crack-chocolate!

The third costume change of the day, but always with the sparkly shoes from Aunt Cathy!

At best, I hope some traditions get formed along the way that we can feel good about. Or, at least: some good memories.

*I'm still fantasizing about doing a playful photo shoot in the woods in which we're dressed only with flowers. teehee!

**Still love-hating the technical aspects of Blogger that I have yet to master! grrr!

Eostre

2011-04-24T13:22:00.000-07:00

I'm feeling sacredly irreverent and righteously mischievous ~ in the style of Tom Robbins, Rob Brezsny, and bunnies and flowers everywhere. It's Easter time. And while I haven't observed the stilted and solemn version of this holiday in years, I'm feeling like Celebrating the ancient, Earth-centered day that marks Spring.

Eostre: Estrus. The time of heightened fertility.

The Christ story is one of many myths whose symbolism observes this time of year when Summer's Sun emerges from the womb of Winter. Quite sadly, our misogynistic and repressed tradition ignores the divine orgy. We may be prim and powdered in our Easter suits and Derby hats, but Nature hasn't forgotten the original "reason for the season." Stepping outside, Eostre is flinging herself at me. Everywhere I look, sex is being conceived abundantly and joyfully in the open air with completely clean conscience. The bugs on our back deck. The trees along the streets that are littering the world with their seed for blocks around, in an ecstatic arbor porn. Flowers scandalously numerous - displaying themselves voluptuous and clad in shockingly flamboyant colors, sharing their fragrance with anyone who'll thrust their face into bursting petals and drink deep.

All kinds, jumbled and climbing one another!

Jasmine spreading her scent so potently, it's scandalous!

So many! Flashing such color for all to see!

Not even contained in a proper garden plot ~ just out in the middle of the lawn. Unabashed!

Open and primed.

THIS is the stuff of Eostre! Wholly holy, mysterious, and urgently relevant. Wash your soul in this gushing nectar and you will be free indeed.

I don't mean to offend, but to extend Nature's invitation to celebrate Life in its abundance! Messy, stinky, juicy! Fragrant and flagrant.

Her gifts overfloweth.

Come Home today.

2011-04-19T14:34:00.001-07:00

Some Days Just Call for a Mocha

2011-04-19T13:33:00.001-07:00

With real whipped cream.

Growing: Planting Seeds in [this] City

2011-04-16T12:00:00.001-07:00

The week before we left for Baja, which was the last week of February, Papi Sealion and Anjali got out all the extra plant pots, cleaned them, and filled them with potting soil. He had a grand fantasy of planting a garden for our back deck (in an otherwise tiny, lifeless rental backyard) that would sprout to life in the Spring rain while we were gone. Totally focused on Baja, and quite disillusioned with this house here in Sacramento, I couldn't see his vision.

As I get back in the swing of living here in the city as Spring springs upon us, I must get my fingers in the dirt. And Anjali must have growing things close by to nibble at and tend. Even if it's not even close to the lush, well-loved garden we had in Berkeley, a pot of lettuce is a pot of lettuce. So yesterday we got out the coffee tins stuffed with seed packets past, seed packets duplicate (from those ambitious Springtime planting frenzies), and seeds saved, and we made a beginning on our city deck.

Even if it's only one planting season we spend here, growing some food and creating some beauty is always worth it.

This Moment

2011-04-15T16:29:00.000-07:00

Today I'm playing along with Soulemama's Friday theme, "This Moment."

In her words:

{this moment} - A Friday ritual. A single photo - no words - capturing a moment from the week. A simple, special, extraordinary moment. A moment I want to pause, savor and remember.

Crafty: Corduroy Kitten Skirt with Shorties

2011-04-12T13:11:00.001-07:00

Eeee!! How easy and fun is it to sew a skirt for a little girl! No womanly curves to adjust for and attempt to flatter, and all the fun color and cuteness you can get away with.

Anjali brainstormed with me about fabrics and decoration on this one ( I think I'll save her frog patch idea for another time...). It's just a square with a stretchy knit drawstring. The polka dot corduroy is soft and lightweight. I've had it in my fabric pile for such a long time, it's bordering on vintage. ;)

We got a few shots with this top-notch outfit Papi put together.

And then I added the shorties! From the same thrifted t-shirt as the kitten patch, I used the sleeves for the legs (like I did for these wool pants) and serged them together, then attached them to the skirt. A manic two-afternoon whiz of a project, I love the results. I hope she does! I'd like to make more like this. A carefree summertime play costume.

Getting Out the Door

2011-04-11T13:20:00.000-07:00

Naturalized arugula in my favorite guerilla garden here in Sac.

Getting Out the Door

2011-04-10T08:41:00.000-07:00

An early morning girl-date to Magpie for breakfast.

Getting Out the Door

2011-04-08T14:12:00.000-07:00

Neighborhood walk with a snack stop at "the honeybee house":

Getting Out the Door

2011-04-07T15:46:00.000-07:00

Inspired by our outings up in Oregon, and determined not to get stuck in the dark house when the sun is shining, I'm making an effort.

Every effort deserves some motivation. We stopped at Temple before we headed to the biketrail. Anjali's Tangerine Ginger tea was much more photogenic than my coffee.

Beginning of the biketrail on the levee, overlooking the swollen American River,

hundreds of cheerful clouds.

gratitude: for friends :Corvallis

2011-04-07T14:15:00.000-07:00

For such an impromptu and short trip, this weekend up in Oregon felt slow, full, and intentional. Moments of sunshine, warmth (well...at least on the inside...), rain and cold. Brilliant green fields, glimpses of cloud-hugged mountains, and small-town sidewalks. Nourishing home-cooked meals, indulgent pizzas, and flowing beer (a true trip to Oregon must include it!). Two giggling girls, and many Anjali costume changes. A gratifyingly lengthy bikeride, and hours of conversation, scheming and laughter. We've been together often enough lately that open stretches of time pass in which we are not agape at our cosmic connections and epic, still-expanding story, but simply enjoy each others' company.

Walks, talks, and good folks.

Girls.

Quiet and sunshine. Stairs and Quito kitty.

shenanigans

A reunion of my tushy and a bikeseat for a delicious countryside ride.

Silly.
Below: awesome ladies' bathroom message in the equally awesome
Hopworks Urban Brewery in Portland
(Interestingly, we met the owner of this place on our return flight from Baja.
His personable modesty belied the hugeness and radness of his obviously very successful creation).

Movin' Right Along...Crafty : Wool Pants for My Girl

2011-04-02T14:36:00.000-07:00

(Another song I love! By the Muppets..)

Ahh! The relief and release of the monthly moon cycle. Even though I dedicatedly keep track of it, it still manages to surprise me every single month! So I am blushing in my predictability with that last post; apparently the Kali-like premenstrual time is alive and well, even if I do feel a LOT more even-keeled with recent supplementation. But as I learn to embrace the ebbs and flows of this womanly rhythm of mine, I can also embrace this temporary ferocity as a gift. It gets me to the mic.

Moving through that, I can start checking items off the To Do, To Learn, and To Make lists.

A revelation that I had while in Mexico was: I like what I create with the sewing machine. I have a unique design style, and I like the way I incorporate thrifted clothing and their fabrics into new fun items. Right before our trip I discovered a bag that I made six years ago. I used parts of some corduroy pants, with a trim of vivid t-shirt. The iron-on patches had since come unglued and lost their relevance, but, damn, if that is still not a stylin', excellently useful bag! It was my favorite the whole month we were away. And our tiny friend Stella sported a couple of my originals while visiting us down there. Sharp clothes, if I do say so myself.

Complementing that revelation, I discovered a blog by a kindred spirit of mine up in Canada, that is so entertaining and inspiring to me in the creative department! The author of While Tangerine Dreams is a dirt-loving, Waldorf-inspired homeschooling mama who raises chickens and and milks a cow, spins (ridiculously scrumptious) yarn and designs fashion from her strawbale home! If that isn't a whole list of activities near and dear to my heart, she also writes with a fresh humor that keeps me coming back. So thanks, Kathy, for adding some wind to my crafty sails!

I feel a little sheepish telling you we are traveling again so soon - to Oregon to visit Stella and her family. We had a window of opportunity and we took it. So I felt the creative urgency to make Anjali some wool pants to weather the rain! Ahh! The rush of a sewing deadline! The only excuse I have to survive and thrive for a day on nothing but coffee and raw milk lattes. Ha!

Anjali likes the pants so well that she wouldn't let me take them off after the first fitting, and wore them for naptime. Which actually gave me the time to do everything *else* I needed to before leaving this evening! I used a pair of knit tights-pants as a loose guide to the sizing, and a felted merino wool sweater in my fabric pile just happened to have perfectly-sized sleeves. So I just had to fit them together, adding gusseted crotch, and a few patch-pockets for flare. Considering I always tend to fly by the seat of my pants when sewing, there were complications (once I'd committed to using the brown sweater and cut off one sleeve, I realized the other sleeve had been used for a previous project and had a sizable piece missing from it. Heh heh. Add a another patch to the list. If unique use of fabrics is my forte, that's my main critique of my sewing: that my projects are often jury-rigged because of the last-minute nature of my motivation. Perhaps the trade-off for a Tiffanie-made creation these days..) BUT I made it in time! A pair of wool tights my girl has for our rainy trip!

The only shot I have of them is a fuzzy, midriff-bearing shot, but yummy nonetheless.

The top heart patch has a slit pocket! A must for this girl: "One-two pockets!"

The second photo is of a beginning of a checking-off of the To Make and To Learn lists: creating labels en Espanol of every household item we can! I wrote the words, and then my assistant added embellishment and tape.

Manic days like this are the ones where I squeeze in a short but still existent jog, *and* manage to sweep the bulk of the cat hair and crumbs out of sight before we woosh out the door!

Oooo! (James Brown-style)

Feels good!

A vent, A rant, A story (if there's time for all of them)

2011-03-27T14:17:00.000-07:00

another self-portrait study: what does vital *look* like?

Yikes! That cuddly honeymoon phase of returning home lasted exactly one day ~ until my sweetie went back to work. Then came the again realization: what the fuck is it that I do here in this house when Sealion is at work? Thankfully, so thankfully, I let that anger-tinged question roil up in me until I reached an epiphany last summer. My Wake-Up Call. That this isolation inside a house in a city most days of the year isn't what I want. I'm bored. I'm lonely. And there is so much more.

For me, it didn't mean that I wanted to go back to work. A Career has never been a goal or motivation of mine (and I'm so sorry to Gemini Cricket who had to live alongside that struggle ~ the figuring-out time**); Making a Life has always been. But, as the book Radical Homemakers forcefully chronicles, the last century's manufacturers of gadgets and Convenience with their powerful advertisements relegated a life at home to "women's work," then made it obsolete and mind-numbing. Not to mention the insular existence of the very-recent phenomenon of the nuclear family.

I do believe that anywhere you are, you can choose to be happy. And I do (and of course can never forget how much I have to be grateful for). But last summer I felt as if I had gone to sleep at the wheel ~ resting in comfort, becoming complacent. At best, I often felt I "pretended at" being productive; at the worst, I slipped into watery depression that (quietly) lasted on and off for months at a time.

In the (beautifully Kali-like) volatile days of my monthly cycle last summer, I ranted and raged. About how I wanted a life in which I felt truly engaged and necessary. I wanted my body to work at tasks that had meaning. I didn't want to merely find hobbies to occupy my time between strolls to the farmers' markets. I wanted Nature to be an everyday part of my life, and not just an occasional tourist destination. I wanted to feel vital ~ I wanted to Be Vital. More than once I woke up halfway believing that I might pack a bag, buy a plane ticket, and transport myself and my daughter to rural Mexico that day if that's what it took to regain a feeling of sanity. Luckily some of my raging registered and resonated with my husband. In the Fall, we set in motion the chain of events that is getting us to that plot of permaculture-to-be in Baja Sur in .. relatively super-quick time.

So today, I know we have that goal in mind. I have a To Do list, a To Learn list, and a To Make list that are all focused on it. . . And then there's the Everyday between there and Now ~ when I still live in an urban house that is insulated from the breeze and closed off from the sun. Where (many of) my neighbors don't care to know me, and my daughter must cross busy intersections before she finds a field in which she can romp. I shall go ahead and choose to be happy. I will play, sing, dance, create, and seek out Nature with my daughter. I'll make lots of good food. I'll take care of my husband as my part of the loving and mutual partnership we have, and seek connection with him and with my loved ones as best I can.

I'll prioritize gratitude.

And I think I'll make a calendar so I can draw red lines through each little square until we are on that farm in Baja again for good.

**Upon reading this entry later in the day, I realized that I needn't apologize to Gemini Cricket; I really was doing my best at the time, as was he. What I can do instead is send gratitude to him for his faithful friendship ~ for being a sounding board, and seeing me through what was a time of growth for both of us. Today he sent me a note saying that he didn't feel like an apology is necessary or appropriate. Point well taken. That's what real friends are for, huh.

(And: the story I had in mind ~ about the vulture in my new heading photo ~ will have to wait till another naptime.)

Back in Sac

2011-03-25T15:11:00.000-07:00

Enjoying snuggling up in a cozy-warm house as it rains, rains, chilly rains outside. Such a stark contrast to our month in the desert-on-ocean in Baja Sur, that I'm smiling out from under the quilt as I readjust to American life ~ saying "thank you" instead of "gracias," putting poo-poo toilet paper in the toilet as opposed to the wastebasket, and all that kinda thing. Gratefully gulping creamy raw milk all the while! During naptime I am busy scrolling through and sorting pages of photos, compiling albums of the different facets of a lovely trip full of beauty, varying weather, learning, learning, learning, and abundant fun times with loved ones. I look forward to sharing with you in the coming days. Yay!

An Appearance

2011-03-06T15:54:00.000-08:00

Much less access to Internet than I expected, but wanted to send a token "hola!"
This photo represents well.

Anticipation

2011-02-22T10:03:00.000-08:00

(and further testing my email-an-entry capabilities...)

What's Goin' On

2011-02-15T14:49:00.000-08:00

(I love love that Marvin Gaye song, by the way.)

I usually edit anything I write to a truly neurotic extent, but I wanna get this out there. So you can overlook my errors or not, as some of the millions in the blogosphere.

kissy face texted to my sweetie after another great run on Super Bowl Sunday.

A love letter to myself from myself ~ the best kind.

What have I been up to lately? Why haven't I been writing? Is everything ok??

In the almost six-year history of this blog, the silences speak as much (and sometimes more) than the entries. Climbing in to my hobbit hole-turtle shell for healing, resting, processing, evolving, re-grouping. As much as I would like to Represent publicly and Out Loud, I do a mighty portion of my Tiffanie-ing solo, solitarily ~ or as solitary as it gets with that happy tiny companion most-always around. Sans microphone. And I learned during my career as a creative writing student that living to write about it later ... sucks. I oftentimes hear the little narrator in my head waxing poetic as I live my life (I am a writer), but ~ similarly to a photographer ~ I think it is absolutely essential to live first, talk or photo second. If at all. So as much as I do love telling the story, I tell the little narrator to knock it off lots of times. (I remember a tandem bikeride years ago with that quickminded poet, Gemini Cricket, where we were chugging up a strenuous hill and he puffed, "If you got enough air to talk that much, you ain't pedalin' hard enough!" HAHAHAHA!!!)

What have I been doing if not writing here?

I've been re-grouping. Lately, as much as I cherish this blog space, I have been lost as to what its purpose is. What's my focus? Why am I writing? Who am I writing to? This has left me speechless.

I've been catching up on the private blog I keep to share with extended family (and close friends) about our family life ~ in an attempt to help it meet my needs more, to help its source be joy, and not feel like a chore. Cuz I ain't gettin paid.

I've been cooking! There has been a true renaissance in my kitchen upon moving from Berkeley to Sacramento. A large part of moving away from our beloved Bay Area was precisely about removing the safety net ~ making things a little more difficult so that we'd actually do stuff for ourselves. In that way, the move has been hugely successful. We still enjoy eating out, but: there are a lot fewer high quality restaurants here than in the Bay. There are some great ones I'd love to give a shout-out to (mainly our now-favorite Magpie ~ WE LOVE YOU!). More than any Bay Area loyalist would want to believe, for sure (there is quite the stigma against Sac in the Bay Area ~ or any place outside the Bay Area, for that matter!). And, of course, Three Stone Hearth and its perfectly-nutritious take-home food (sauerkraut, bone broth, grassfed meat patties, um ~ everything but the salad...) is only in Berkeley. So I'm finally forced to useall the skills and know-how I went to Berkeley to learn in the first place! I have sprouted my own spelt flour, hand-ground grain to make my own sourdough every week for a month now, all sorts of veggie ferments (successful and gross alike!), made gallons of bone broth, soups and stews, created nutritious snacks my toddler eats again and again, started a now-habit of creativity with breakfasts (a main, solid family meal for us, not just a light snack), my own deliciously decadent chocolate Valentine's candies, and, well ~ it's been fruitful and immensely fun. I work on a kitchen project of some sort most every afternoon. And have help from an eager sous-chef. ;-)

Making Valentine candy hearts ~ a little girl version, and then a spicy-decadent big-person version!

I'm falling in love with running all over again! Without shoes. As in, totally barefoot. I had seen the "minimalist" shoes and thought they made enough sense that I bought a pair when my standards were ready to be replaced. But at the shoestore, I had the good fortune of being fitted by a man who's been running "barefoot" for years. He recommended I read Christopher McDougall's book, Born to Run. I've only read one other book about sports ~ Lance Armstrong's It's Not About the Bike; it's just not my genre (honestly I mainly read informative non-fiction ~ don't judge me..). I devoured it on my phone over Christmas vacation, even sneaking in a page or two during bathroom breaks! Not only did I love the story, I loved the theory: that we humans evolved to run easily over long distances for the duration of our lives.

This idea jives with so much of my approach to life ~ that the way people lived generations ago was much healthier, happier, and more sustainable ~ that I had to try to apply it. And obsessively research about it as I've done with everything else I've incorporated, from nutrition and cooking to babycare, and now permaculture.

More than compelling research and theory, what keeps me suiting up and heading out the door is how good it feels. When I run with just the soles of my feet on the ground, I immediately run with the "proper" form, because that's the way that doesn't hurt. My pace quickens and my breathing comes into a thrilling alignment. Almost instantaneously, I fall into the mindframe which tells me I could run all day (or at least a couple hours) ~ a way-of-being that only happened occasionally, and after several miles' warm up when I ran regularly with cushy shoes. In other words, I don't feel like I'm working or exercising; I feel like I'm playing. In the moment, childlike game-play. As weird and goofy and California-fruity-fringy as it seems, I wouldn't keep trying it if I didn't have so much damn fun! And the next most amazing part, is that my body feels excellent doing it. Even though I haven't had a regular running practice in years. When I ran regularly in years past, joint and back soreness were just a fact I put up with for a worthwhile workout. The first week that I ran with minimalist shoes, my calves were so sore (because of the different technique involved), I looked pretty silly trying to get around for the rest of the day. That only took a week to move through. The pad of the ball of my foot is still tender and sore after running with totally bare feet. But this is getting better by the day. The rest of my body ~ my joints and back? They have never felt soreness running this way, even though it is so much different than the way I have run since I started in college. In the morning, when I usually would roll out of bed feeling creaky in my back and hips, I feel lubricated and refreshed. I'm up to running about four miles now ~ about half with minimal shoes, and half with no shoes at all. It has quickly become an activity I attempt to squeeze in, if just a short run, every day. In the past I have marveled at and been so grateful for my legs in their ability to run far over and over again. Now I have an all-new awareness of ~ quite an infatuation with ~ my feet; such capable creations they are! Thank you, feet! I love you!

My amazing feet ~ after my first-ever run without shoes.

My daughter is a two-plus year old. Wow. We're navigating the changing, blossoming, challenging course day-by-day. She is becoming more and more independently her own person by the moment. I love who she is! And find being her mommy to be even more an exercise in mindfulness and compassion (for both of us) than ever. Emotions and tempers rise. We still enjoy nursing and sharing the family bed together. Those activities provide such nurturance and stability for both of us. They give us a resting place to return to when toddler times get momentarily tough. And we are finding other big girl ways to connect too. Cooking and art. Humor and silliness and light-heartedness. I am grateful for forgiveness and being ok with getting things wrong. At the end of the day, she's still awesome Anjali, and I'm still her Mommy. Thank goodness!

I have had a whole lot more energy lately, if you can't tell from reading. I believe it is largely due to food-based supplements I've implemented. I wake up with a lot more drive and motivation, and feel a lot more accomplished at the end of the day.

What else have I been spending time on recently instead of blogging?

I've been taking an online Spanish course, called Rocket, daily. When I studied language in school, it was French. I am quite a Francophile to this day (thanks in large part, I'm sure, to my high school teacher, Madame Smith!), carrying the fantasy-hope of someday living (eating and cooking) in Southern France. I majored in French for a semester or so in college (I think..?), and got to where I dreamt in French ~ even cursed aloud in French as I slept (HA!). So whenever I go to speak Español, French invariably comes out. Time to get past los colores andlos numeros. I know that there's no way to study language like immersion; every time I go to Baja, the words I pick up while there I do not forget. But this online course helps ~ if anything, just to keep it fresh and ongoing in my mind. And as much English as most Baja natives know and are generous with in conversation, I feel much more respectful of them trying to speak their language. My background in French helps a lot when reading Spanish. But listening to Spanish speakers and deciphering it is still hard. I feel as if I have a long way to go! But a journey is a step at a time, right?

So, speaking of Español, we leave for Baja in two days! This time, we are going to be spending a whole month there ~ mostly camping on the property. What property, you ask? I have not done a good job of keeping you up-to-date. Along with all the above explanations, the reason I think is because the story just feels too big to me to describe ~ or maybe somewhere in my heart I believe that if I tell you about it, it'll end up not true (hmMmm. some truth there I hadn't considered!).

Self-portrait check-in ~ "do I look as if I'm on the cusp of a major life-adventure?!"

We were invited to buy into a 16-acre piece of property in La Ribera, Baja California Sur, Mexico. The owners include the wonderful Miles and Woo, and a few others who are part of a Buddhist community who attend a 3,000-acre retreat center within a half hour of La Ribera. The property is zoned mostly agricultural, is mostly flat with a hike uphill towards the back, and is grown up with all manner of spiky prickly things, at the entrance to a tiny community that is situated on the coast of of the Gulf of California/Sea of Cortez.

Miles with the now-productive papaya and banana grove, dome shed structure in the distant background.

Below, a sunset view from the top of the property~ horizon being the sea.

The agreement within the group of owners is that the property be developed and cultivated adhering as closely as possible to permaculture principles. Designs were drawn years ago, as detailed as to include the hundreds of species of plants to create a food forest. What we plan to do while we are there this month is to set up a base-camp so that when we and others go down to work, there will be easy shade, shelter, water and electricity, and composter toilet already there. That way we can maximize our time to work. We plan to visit for at least a week every other month, and then in November: build an earthbag dome (with a crew of helpers ~ wanna volunteer??) with the potential of setting up semi-permanent residence! Troy is still exploring the work options he has available to spend as much time as possible living in Baja, and most likely working in the US. He is discovering more and more that the American Dream is not his, and that working as a farmer to create a sustainable tropical paradise is. I'm beside-myself excited, and also feeling like it hasn't really sunk in, that very soon I'll be doing exactly what I have dreamed of for years! It just took this long to get all the pieces of the puzzle in view and in play. The stars have aligned.

All that being said, I'm pleased that I have been mindful in our daily life here in Sacramento, so as not to throw the baby out with the bathwater, so to speak. So many times in the past as I have had a distinct goal in mind, the present circumstances felt insufferable. That hasn't been the case; though we are clearly not in love with Sacramento and our current situation, it still rocks! And though I'm so psyched for what's to come, I don't actually live in the future; I live now. And now is .. what is. Gotta love it! My day-to-day life with my daughter has felt sweet and solid. Routine and uneventful in the best, grounding kind of way.

Every-day special: a homemade picnic at the park on a recent warm day.

Ok~here we go!

¡Hasta la próxima vez!

Coming back to gratitude

2011-02-01T12:26:00.001-08:00

Oh. Feeling overwhelmed today. Our government continues to disappoint me with seemingly every decision. My daughter sometimes acts "like a two-year-old." My husband is sometimes grumpy. And I might just be experiencing a twinge of weepy PMS (hello monthly rhythm!)...

So I'm re-membering to come back to gratitude.
I recently bought a few books for Anjali from my beloved Zen teacher, Thich Nhat Hanh. I think she likes them - soothing water color illustrations, and calming messages; I probably benefit more than she does from our reading them (what toddler needs to be reminded to be present?? I dare say not one!). And the main message it always comes back to: breathing rocks! As in: I love being alive on this planet in the here and now! Realizing my breath, I come back to the ultimate gratitude: I am alive. Right now, I am alive. Right Now. I Am Alive. I know there is incredible suffering in the world and that my life has been extremely lucky, but my most dire times taught me perhaps more than the cheery ones: I like living. And here and now is what I have. Pain reminds me that I have feelings. Having feelings reminds me that I'm alive. And I like living.
Scott Noelle (at right, under "so grateful for") suggests playing a game to bring ourselves back to present awareness, and out of pain from the past or anxiety of the future. It's called "The Now Game." So I'll play that:
Right Now,
I feel my daughter nursing.
I feel her body breathing in and out next to mine.
I hear a little whistle as her nose exhales.
I hear cars passing occasionally.
I hear someone emptying trash.
I hear our upstairs neighbor's washer churning.
I see my phone in my hands.
I see bright sunlight streaming in the window!
I see the houseplant leaves illuminated with stripes from the window blinds.
I see the orange tree across the street, loaded with fruit, rustling in the wind.
I see the aluminum foil "twinkle stars" Anjali and I made for her birthday still decorating the door frame.
I feel my eyelashes lightly crusted with tears.
I feel my heart lightened from the weight I felt when I started this post.
I feel sincere gratitude for the Now that is upon me.

I breathe a sigh of release.

Ahhhh! Ain't life a Grand Adventure? Remembering that all I have is Now, and that I can choose how I experience things (haha; my phone auto-corrected to say "thugs"!) helps me tremendously.

And Now, I will Gratefully leave this phone, and Really step into the present!

Sunny Day

2011-01-21T16:06:00.000-08:00

Perhaps my favorite...

2011-01-19T14:23:00.000-08:00

"Perhaps my favorite...vacationy-type experience in Baja Sur"...

I had so much fun writing this as a reply to a question that Woo asked ~ of our recent "reconnoitering" trip to Baja which included much chill time with Arlene and Brian (and a brief but welcome cameo by Miles in the very beginning) ~ that I felt like sharing it here. We stayed in a couple of yurts in Buena Vista for a few days, then headed to Cabo Pulmo ~ at the end of a long, windy, bumpy dirt road, and a large tract of wildlife preserve, it's a village that includes a neighborhood of sweet rental casitas and a handful of rustic restaurants and one tiny mercado/tourist shop. Local population of about 300, Cabo Pulmo mainly attracts scuba divers as visitors. Our little casita was a few minutes' walk to the stone-and-sand beach and aqua blue Sea of Cortez.

Was the second evening we stayed at Cabo Pulmo, we walked through a (well-travelled) little hole in the fence next door to "Nancy’s" restaurant. On a bare-dirt farmish piece of property, it is a classic old-looking building with arched windows and thick thick stone walls, largely open-air, with a couple fireplaces. For the last couple days, I had noticed a paper plate clothespinned to the gate, which said in handwritten English "For Pizza and cinnamon rolls come to Nancy's house." (I was intrigued by having homemade cinnamon rolls at Nancy's house, but no one else wanted to take her up on it with me.. I suspected the place might not be open when we approached, thanks to those paper plate signs..) We found the whole place lit only by candles, and totally empty, save the cook in the (totally open) kitchen, Nancy (I assume)~ a friendly white woman with shoulder-length white hair probably in her 60's ~ and her adult daughter who were snuggled by the fire with their hands wrapped around warm mugs and their sandaled feet propped up on the hearth, talking intimately. Nancy greeted us warmly and turned back to her conversation. The cook lit the stove and switched on his tiny quiet radio, and handed us the menu ~ handwritten on a small notepad. We ordered and he got to work cooking us three different entrees with sides all by himself. Anjali dropped off to sleep in my lap and provided me with some nice relaxed adult time. The wind (it was very windy) howled outside, but inside these walls ~ which didn't even have glassed windows ~ it was cozy. The low light and quiet already present made it so that we felt like whispering too. The meal was warm and fresh and satisfying ~ veggies and fish, with a basket of piping hot tortillas nestled in a napkin. For dessert he flambeed bananas in cinnamoned rum for us. Wow. As we licked our forks, the cook was cleaning the last of the dishes, and Nancy and daughter were putting their jackets on to head to the house. The meal was definitely priced for gringos ~ but still not as expensive as the Bay Area places we love. I couldn't help but think that our dinner was the only one cooked that night, and that I was glad to pay for such a rich experience.

(oh geez how i hate the technical aspects of blogger that i don't know how to control!)

All Systems Go

2010-12-20T17:25:00.001-08:00

Looking to the horizon.

Feeling overwhelmed and intimidated.

And hopeful.

At Hog Island in my favorite Ferry Building in San Francisco, on our weekend's trip to the Bay Area.

Would love to be that person who's writing long insightful essays and keeping you
completely up-to-date, but at least I'm checking in.
That's as much as I can do for now.