Category: deep thoughts

  • dazzly dreams


    From jengray:
    Whatever it is you try to do with your life,
    Nothing will ever dazzle you like the dreams of your body…
    ~Mary Oliver

    What are your body’s dreams? And do they dazzle?
    [Me, today my body is dreaming about waterfalls…]
    –

  • veggie-tarian

    I felt that a reply to Elise’s recent comment warranted a whole post. She asked:

    Would you be willing to share a little more about your own vegetarian lifestyle? Are you 100% strict on not eating any animal products, or do you eat a little bit of meat here and there?

    My reply:
    I’m not a strict vegetarian right now. I occasionally eat meat or meat-based products (e.g. chicken broth) on conditions of necessity or hospitality. For example, if a friend cooks me dinner and doesn’t know of my vegetarianism, then I will often taste some of their meat-based food (though I rarely eat much of meaty stuff and I generally refuse beef altogether).

    Having said that, I must confess that I do occasionally eat seafood. I cook salmon about twice/month (wild caught Alaskan or Canadian) because it is a family favorite. I also indulge in sushi a few times per year.

    I try, with some success thanks to Trader Joes, to source our dairy products from organic farms. I feel that organic dairy tastes better and is a better choice than traditional dairy practices. I wish I had the time and energy to give up animal products altogether. I did for a few months and my body felt wonderful. But it was an awful lot of work and I think my kids would be unhappy if I encouraged them to eat that way all the time.

    Elise and others, I heartily recommend Francis Lappe’s Diet for a Small Planet if you want to learn more about the environmental costs of meat production. This book is a bit old, but still a good read on the topic and you can generally find used copies of it for just a few dollars.

  • What NOT to get me for Valentine’s Day

    1) Any product that has extra x’s or z’s in the title, as in exxxtra pleasure, sizzzlin’ hot, XXXL, etc
    2) Milk chocolate (du-uh)
    3) Apparel with faux fur trim, feathers, or red sequins
    4) A Hallmark card
    5) Items that have a life expectancy of less than three days (such as goldfish, cut flowers, or bacon)

  • To the rats

    Dear rats:
    I know it’s been very cold lately–downright frigid, even. And I’m sorry that it’s difficult to find a warm place to sleep outside, especially since the recent construction has eliminated all the steamy mulch piles along California Ave. But good news is ahead–the days are getting warmer so you won’t be as desperate for a cozy space in the near future.

    So small-talk aside, let me just say that it’s not in your best interests to continue seeking shelter and warmth under my car hood. And if you do so, your days may well be numbered (yes, that IS A THREAT). Because today, when I was writing that $700 check to the car dealer for the repairs made to my engine for rat damage, let me tell you that I was feeling rather ungenerous at that moment. Especially when I realized that that much dough could’ve bought you and your posse a pretty nice trip to some warm Caribbean island, where you could be sipping pina coladas and working on your tan lines, watching the rat babes in their trendy brazilian-cut bikinis and whistling at a lot of nice tail. But instead you were frolicking around under my hood, sucking oil out of frayed hoses, sharpening your incisors on electrical cords of various sizes–including those that allow the engine to revv up and get all warm and cozy to begin with. And can I just tell you that imbibing petroleum products is NOT GOOD FOR YOUR HEALTH! You could get cancer that way, you know.

    And I’ll have you know that this wasn’t just any car that you were tampering with, but is a vintage model station wagon, the likes of which are impossible to find on resale lots. So DO NOT MESS WITH THE CAR or you might be finding yourself with a new set of cement shoes. Capice?
    Sincerely,
    pilgrimgirl

  • on sex and calendars and blackberries


    Okay, a question for all of those tech-savvy readers out there:

    So if one shares a google calendar with one’s spouse, and the calendar is starting to fill up quickly (meaning, very few nights at home together in the next few weeks), is it appropriate to ‘calendar’ sex? And if so, does one make it a one-time appointment or a repeating event?


    [So I was going to include an image of a blackberry (aka handheld organizer thingy) with this post, but the only image that appealed to me, was this one…]

  • honesty

    Sure there are moments when it’s best not to be too honest–when doing so would offer undue criticism that would hurt another person.

    Yet it seems that in telling one’s own experiences honesty is an admirable thing. Over the past few years, as I’ve written much about my experiences as an amputee, as a cancer survivor, and as a Mormon woman, I’ve tried to be unflinchingly candid and honest. I want to tell my stories truthfully and sincerely. Because truth staves off fear.

    However, I was talking with some friends recently who challenged my need for honesty. They asked me why I had informed my LDS leaders that I was no longer planning to attend church. Why hadn’t I just drifted into inactivity or gone my own way without need to ‘inform’ people of my choices? It’s a good question, one that I’ve been muddling over.

    And, honestly, I have had many moments over the past few weeks when I should have just lied a little to make it easier. Told a few falsehoods to smooth over the difficulties, or just kept my mouth shut and pretended that everything was okay.

    So it’s when I have a night like last night, that I wish I’d never been honest. That I wish I was a liar. That I wish I’d just said nothing and pretended that I was complicit.

    And I wonder where my honesty has gotten me???

  • without a foot to stand on

    Can I just say that I really dislike quotes like this one:
    “I complained because I had no shoes until I saw a man who had no feet.”

    Ahem, but what is that saying about men (and women) with no feet??? That they exist as morality lessons for all those shoeless joes out there? Or as objects of pity for all those folks whose closets are so full of shoes that they don’t have enough space to keep them in???

  • My Shoulders

    My shoulders. They have been blessed to bear the burdens of my life. But those burdens have left my shoulders scarred and stiff. Inflexible. Too tender for touch.

    My shoulders tell many stories, particularly the left shoulder where I have a thick scar. Thinner on the ends, pale pink in the center and red along the edge.

    This scar is now more than 20 years old, from when I was in the midst of cancer treatment (bone cancer, a large tumor above my knee). I had an ‘infusaport,’ a catheter, inserted into my shoulder so the chemotherapy could be administered more easily and directly into my bloodstream. Previously, they had tried IVs in my arms & hands, but these were inadequate for the task of administering the volume of drugs that I would receive. I would need a semi-permanent catheter embedded between the skin and muscle of my shoulder.

    They had to make an incision about 3” long to insert the port. This scar never healed well, as the chemo was killing all of the ‘growing’ cells in my body—including those that would close the incision. My weekly chemo was pumped through a 3”long needles inserted into my shoulder and into the port. The needles left gaping holes that would not heal. Open sores.

    By the time I was finished with my treatments, things started to heal. At least on the outside. But I couldn’t stand to touch my shoulder–not even with soap and washcloth–and I flinched whenever someone brushed against the shoulder accidentally. I always approached hugs with the right side of my body, hoping to avoid contact with the left.

    I was self-conscious about the scar, which even years later was a raw red color. When I went to prom and chose a dress with thin straps, my Mom sewed a ruffle to cover my left shoulder. A Young Women’s leader taught me to sew my own swimsuits, and I learned to put bright ruffles and straps across my left side.

    I married about 8 years after the end of my chemotherapy treatments. I explained to John about my shoulder, asked him not to avoid it. Warned him of the teeth-gritting pain that accompanied even a light touch. I trusted him to be gentle. And he has been.

    In meditation over the past few months, I’ve come to realize that my shoulders are carrying great pain. They are stiff and tight. I stoop. By the evening they are sore and burning, they have knots of stress. I began to realize the need for healing. To make them my own again. I started gentle stretches. Worked to make them more loose. Looked at myself in the mirror and pulled my shoulders back–standing straight and tall.

    I told my yoga teacher of my desire to work on my shoulders. She pulled me and a classmate aside. She had me bend at the waist, then balance on one foot with the other foot stretched out straight behind me. The other woman took my wrists and pulled them firmly towards her. So my shoulders were being stretched forward. And my teacher put her hands on my shoulders. Lightly and firmly. “You are strong, so strong” she said. And I believe her.

    [Copied from my post today at the ExponentBlog]

  • daily scripture study

    So this man, every weekday around lunchtime, kneels in a small patch of grass at the end of my front walkway and reads his Bible. He’s a laborer of some kind, he wears the tan shirt and khaki pants that are typical of the gardeners, plumbers, and painters at the university. He has black hair peppered with streaks of grey. When I walk past him–even a few inches away–he doesn’t lift his head or acknowledge my presence. I am wary of initiating a conversation as he seems so focused.

    So I will tell you what I won’t tell him. That I love seeing him there. That he inspires me. Makes me feel as if this world is a good and safe place. Where strangers can read from well-worn holy books near the walkway of a stranger and that stranger will respect their privacy. And their devotion. And their commitment. And their faith.

  • lunatic?


    “Life as it is–I see pain, misery, and cruelty beyond belief. I’ve heard the voices of all God’s nobler creatures, and the moans from bundles of filth left on the streets. I’ve been a soldier and a slave. And the comrades who died in my arms–these were the men who saw life as it is. They died despairing. No glory. No brave last words. Their eyes were filled with confusion, questioning why. I do not think they were asking why they were dying, but why they had never lived.

    Life itself seems lunatic. Who knows where madness lies? Perhaps being too practical is madness. To surrender to dreams, this may be madness. To seek treasure where there is only trash is madder still. Too much sanity may be madness. But maddest of all, to see life as it is and not as it should be.”
    (adapted from Dale Wasserman’s screenplay, “The Man of La Mancha”)

  • ridin’ on the metro-o-oh….

    Not a very impressive list. But there is quality in this list, even if there isn’t quantity :)

    Try it yourself!

  • decluttering

    I’m gong to take this advice on decluttering from wen (IMO, the fourth item on this list is particularly pertinent):
    a. Pick up an item.
    b. Do you know what the hell it is? If not, toss it.
    c. Does it smell bad? If so, toss it.
    d. Ask yourself “Would I rather take care of this item or blog?” If the answer is blog, toss it.
    NOTE: Do not toss your husband, wife, children, all the food in your fridge, your pets or your neighbors’ pets.