A New Year’s Meditation

Happy New Year!

Today marks not only the first day of 2019, the birth of a new year, but the rebirth of countless people around the world who strive to keep “New Year’s Resolutions.”

Funny – Humans have been making resolutions in some form or another for at least 4,000 years, writes one contributor to the History channel.

Back then, the Babylonians (whose year began in what we’d consider mid-March, when crops were planted) made promises to the gods, expecting good fortune if their promises were kept throughout the year.

The Romans adopted this idea, as well, and the very month of January is named after the Roman god Janus, the two-faced god who faces both into the past and into the future, perhaps symbolizing both the reflection on the past year and the hope and promise of what the next year might bring.

Janus, god of beginnings and passages

The 1700s found Christianity adopting the practice of keeping night vigils of prayer and reflection, lasting all night into the morning on New Year’s Day – A practice that is still found in many communities, today.

We’re hardwired, it seems, to see beginnings of any kind – such as the start of a new calendar year – with mixtures of awe, hope, apprehension, and reflection. And, though now a secular tradition, we still strive to make promises to ourselves. Only about 8% of people keep their resolutions, apparently, but it’s striking that after all this time, we’re still making them, even if we know many will fall by the wayside.

The marked passage of time must affect us on a deep level, to spark the desire to make such promises.

This brings me to a poem by a favorite poet of mine, Billy Collins. In his brilliant way, he captures the universal with the mundane, and questions this new year’s day, and what it means to us all.

Is it a second birthday? Is it a day to dread, or to look forward to?

To me, it’s a time I know I can meditate on and re-dedicate myself to living wildly, blooming where I’m planted, showing gratitude and love to the Universe and to those around me, and keeping fresh and new the love I share with my husband.

What about you?

May you have the happiest of years, starting today. Happy New Year!

New Year’s Day by Billy Collins
Everyone has two birthdays
according to the English essayist Charles Lamb,
the day you were born and New Year’s Day—

a droll observation to mull over
as I wait for the tea water to boil in a kitchen
that is being transformed by the morning light
into one of those brilliant rooms of Matisse.

“No one ever regarded the First of January
with indifference,” writes Lamb,
for unlike Groundhog Day or the feast of the Annunciation,

New Year’s marks nothing but the pure passage of time,
I realized, as I lowered a tin diving bell
of tea leaves into a little ocean of roiling water.

I like to regard my own birthday
as the joyous anniversary of my existence,
probably because I was, and remain
to this day in late December, an only child.

And as an only child—
a tea-sipping, toast-nibbling only child
in a bright, colorful room—
I would welcome an extra birthday,
one more opportunity to stop what we are doing
for a moment and celebrate my presence here on earth.

And would it not also be a small consolation
to us all for having to face a death-day, too,
an X drawn through a number
in a square on some kitchen calendar of the future,

the day when each of us is thrown off the train of time
by a burly, heartless conductor
as it roars through the months and years,

party hats, candles, confetti, and horoscopes
billowing up in the turbulent storm of its wake.

from the book, “Ballistics,” © Random House 2008

3 – 2 – 1 … Entschuldigung!

I learned a new word a couple months ago.

Agnosiophobia

Heard of it? I hadn’t.

Agnosiophobia is the fear of not knowing.

To me, this means not knowing enough – not knowing the best way to proceed – not knowing how to do things correctly, so that you don’t look or sound or seem like a complete fool.

It might also be the reason I obsessively learned German before visiting Austria for the first time (a little bit different than learning Gaelic for fun before visiting Ireland, ha ha…). I just did not want to look foolish or be caught like a deer in headlights simply because I didn’t know what to do or what to say.

If you don’t know enough German, here’s a word that encapsulates what I’m talking about:

Entschuldigung (ent-shul-di-gung)

What does it mean?

Excuse me,” or “Sorry.”

Of course, I found I didn’t need to excuse myself as much as I had expected I would – partly because more people at least understand English than expected (though it’s best not to have the highest of expectations in this regard), and partly because, well, things are always so much easier than expected when you’re in the thick of it… and if they’re not easy, then you at least know that those excruciating bits have an ending point, and you always end up learning something to make your next experience less awful.

Like two nights ago when a cashier’s register broke down and she couldn’t see how much I owed her, and I didn’t know how to tell her the numbers, in German, to help her. So I went back to the apartment where we’re staying and memorized the patterns of German numbers… my husband caught me counting feverishly to one hundred under my breath before getting out of bed the next morning.

😅

… Did I mention the fear of not knowing?

Honestly, the fear of not knowing is the reason it took so long for me to finally write another blog entry, earlier today. I was afraid of not knowing how to start again. Afraid of not knowing what to write about. Surely I’d look foolish if I simply picked up where I left off, right?

But I’ve learned a few things since I last wrote here. Things that helped me shut that voice up – the one that tells me not to bother, since I’m so afraid.

Firstly, the following quote from Carrie Fisher comes to mind:

Be afraid. But “do it anyway.”

But… there is more to it, right? I mean, those of us who battle depression or anxiety know that it isn’t just as simple as “do it anyway.” And I know Carrie Fisher would probably agree, that this little soundbyte isn’t enough to jump start our minds when they’re frozen in fear.

Enter Mel Robbins:

Knowing what to do will never be enough.

It’s not as simple as “Just do it.” If it were that simple, we would all have everything we want. There’s something really foundational that has to happen before we can take action, and that is that we must learn to conquer our own feelings.

Wow. This really hits the nail on the head, right? Mel Robbins created the 5 Second Rule for this exact reason – pushing yourself to do something, with a simple action that can actually make it possible.

When you feel yourself hesitate before doing something that you know you should do, count 5-4-3-2-1-GO and move towards action.

There is a wealth of information about this rule, which you can find here, but suffice to say this really, truly works! It’s all about acting on the few seconds before an idea turns into inaction, and the physical actual countdown kicks your mind and body into gear!

Today, I left my journal behind before a 2 and a half hour train ride. I thought, “Well, now I can’t write. Sad face.” But then, I remembered my blog, and my fear of picking it back up… and that fear reminded me of Carrie Fisher’s words, and thanks to Mel Robbins, I knew what to do.

And I’ve applied it to my German-speaking experiences, too, here in Austria. I might not know what to say, or whether or not they speak English, but I just take a deep breath and…

5 – 4 – 3 – 2 – 1 – GO!

Where I Am: (Somewhere between Vienna and New Year’s)

I started this blog last year, around Thanksgiving, I believe, with the notion that Thanksgiving Day should truly be the day to start “New Year’s Resolutions,” starting from a spirit of gratitude and thanks.

One of my favorite voices, when it comes to giving and receiving gratitude, is Louise Hay:

“The Universe always gives us what we believe we deserve.

For quite a while now, I’ve been accepting every compliment and every present with: ‘I accept with joy and pleasure and gratitude.’ I’ve learned that the Universe loves this expression, and I constantly get the most wonderful presents!

Let’s affirm: I am a willing receiver of all the good the Universe wants to bring me.

Louise Hay

But, clearly, my Thanksgiving/New Year resolution of keeping a blog didn’t quite realize itself in 2018. Life happens, and one thing I’ve learned from yoga (and years of pushing through self-doubt and regret) is that you can only ever meet yourself where you are, and you shouldn’t spend time wallowing in regret, or the “should’ve-could’ve-would’ves.” So, here I am, a year later, with at least the uncanny ability to look back on the year, take stock, and push forward.

So… Why start again, now?

Honestly, it’s frightening. I’m actually terrified of writing a blog. Of writing, in general. Of doing things and following through, in general. Of… well, I’m sure you get the picture, and I’m sure I’m not alone.

But… today, I’m on a train. To Salzburg. Yes, that Salzburg. From Vienna (yes, that Vienna). Myself, my husband, and my sister are finishing off a whirlwind 2 week Holiday adventure that began in Ireland – our 4th annual trek to the Emerald Isle – and finished in the land of Schnapps and Wiener Schnitzel, the Sacher Torte, and Mozartkugeln (oh, that’s a real thing, and they’re delicious).

Schlöss Schönbrunn with Christmas Market

Vienna’s City Hall at Night, as viewed from the Rathausplatz

Today is our last day overseas before returning to New York tomorrow, so we opted for a day trip to the City of Mozart.

And, this morning, I almost brought my journal along… but then… I didn’t. “Oh, I won’t need this in Salzburg. We’ll be too busy sightseeing.”

Cue the 2 hour and 22 minute train ride.

Whoops.

But then I heard a voice in my head. I always hear them, but one spoke louder, this time, than the others. The One that says, “don’t think. Just do.”

Don’t Think. Just Do.

And I decided that I didn’t have to wait for the perfect, well-written, well-thought-out post to develop in my head before I wrote something here. I didn’t have to plan some sort of come-back post encapsulating the year, or even go back and add entries for moments this past year, retroactively dating them to make my blog appear “lived in.”

I can meet myself where I am.

And where I am is on a train, to Salzburg, itching to write.

A Wilder London, Day 1

“What will this day be like?
I wonder…
What could that building be?”

Okay, so that’s not quite how the song goes in Rodger’s and Hammerstein’s Sound of Music, but walking along the Thames River (which isn’t far from our AirBnB stay), wrapped up in a quiet morning fog… and with so many beautiful buildings and fascinating architecture, the day held so much potential and wonder! And, of course, we had confidence!

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Lorenzo Quinn’s “Love” in the Riverside Walk Gardens near Vauxhall Bridge

Our morning of show tune references actually began with a chorus of “Dite Moi” from South Pacific (another R & H!), after seeing the all-too-familiar Pret a Manger chain restaurant as we crossed the Vauxhall bridge into Pimlico (and pestering my sister for the proper French pronunciation — it’s “pret-a-mahn-zhay”).

We walked along the Thames (“not Th-ames?” my sister asks, prompting a reflection on British pronunciation — it’s pronounced “Tems”), until we reached Westminster, stopping to admire the architecture of the Houses of Parliament and the Abbey. Lots of construction is going on around the clock tower, which houses Big Ben, and was almost completely shrouded in scaffolding. Apparently, this year began Big Ben’s 4 years of silence during renovation.

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Westminster in the Morning (Dec 17, 2017)

Sam and I took us on the walk we remembered from our trip here two years ago, passing the WWII memorials, the Whitehall Palace/Banqueting House, and Downing Street (no PM spottings, either visit), until wandering the streets around Trifalgar Square and St. Martin’s-on-the-green, settling for breakfast at Caffé Concerto, a chain where we’d eaten on our last visit, in a spot around the corner from Picadilly Circus. For those you fellow tourists, I just listed off a bunch of London highlights. We ate “full English breakfasts” (I’ve wondered if the Full English Breakfast was just a tourist-y thing, but it apparently has a longstanding tradition). We talked about our day and what we planned to do, and the only plans we had aside from eating, was to take an early tea at the Orangery at Kensington Palace.

We meandered through Picadilly Circus, and tried shopping at a mass souvenir shop – we didn’t stay long, as I think Sam and I have become extra self-conscious about appearing like tourists we see in NYC!

We wandered down to the Mall, in St. James’ Park, which leads to Buckingham Palace. Walking down the steps beneath the monument to the Duke of York, I was struck that this is the very spot Sam and I had discovered two years before, where I had actually sat while having my picture taken while on a field trip to London when I was in high school! It’s a shame I can’t find that original picture.

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The tragedy that struck London during WWII was great. Many memorials are set up around the city (Dec 17, 2017)

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The Monument to the Duke of York, off the Mall approaching Buckingham Palace (Dec 17, 2017)

Let it be known, that it is cold in London. It was hovering just a bit above freezing, and so we were stopping to get our hands on hot cups of tea every chance we got just to keep our hands warm while we walked. Walking through a park with a nice hot cuppa is also just a wonderful experience, in and of itself!

(Note to self: Always wear hat and gloves. Always wear hat and gloves. Hat and gloves. Hat and gloves)

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The London Eye from St. James Park (Dec 17, 2017)

After dodging kamikaze pigeons (honestly, we all noticed, they were the fattest pigeons we’d ever seen!), we made our way back to the Mall and approached Buckingham Palace, just in time for the changing of the guard – it was quite crowded!

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Making way for The Changing of the Guard (Dec 17, 2017)

My sister later informed us why the guards were now dressed in grey, as opposed to the more commonly seen red tunics.

We ended up walking up through the Wellington Arch, into Hyde Park, where London’s “Winter Wonderland” is taking place – but honestly, it looks more like a state fair, and less appealing than we had imagined, so I think we’ll end up skipping it on our stay, here (and the lines to get in were astronomical!).

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The Wellington Arch. Also known as a gathering place for tourists armed with cameras (Dec 17, 2017)

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A single rose holds on in the rose garden of Hyde Park (Dec 17, 2017)

But we did see the Princess Diana Memorial Fountain, which we hadn’t seen before. A quiet spot, just off the water, the artist writes that the course of the water running in the circular fountain is supposed to be emblematic of Princess Diana’s life. Regardless of its symbolism, its quiet surroundings and serene beauty offered the perfect setting for quiet contemplation to the sound of bubbling brooks.

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A portion of the Princess Diana Memorial Fountain (Dec 17, 2017)

Passing under a bridge, we arrived in Kensington Gardens, and made our way up to the Palace – no, we didn’t run into any of the royal family! But, it was starting to rain, so we hurried up to the Palace and set out immediately for the nearby Orangery, for our early tea (an hour and a half earlier than we’d planned, but I suspect we were walking faster due to the cold!)

We chose a “Royal Afternoon Tea” for £38.50/person, which included a personal pot of tea (we each tried something different), two towers of food with three pieces of everything (4 or 5 finger sandwiches, 2 kinds of scone, w/ clotted cream and jam), and a smaller assortment of sweets. It was impossible to get to the sweets, as we got so full with everything else! To top it off, we each received a glass of merlot rosé spumante!

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I felt so hyped up already on the several cups of tea today, I felt positively jittery, and kept giggling.

It was just fun – Just to sit and take in the moment – just knowing where we were and what we were allowing ourselves to do, the way we all kept laughing at the slightest provocation, high on caffeine, sugar, alcohol, and the dizzying experience of sitting down and enjoying a piece of the city that we had planned to accomplish!

After tea, I kept saying, “but seriously… what do we do next?” as we hadn’t really planned out the rest of our day. We did spend some time in the shop in Kensington Palace (my sister bought a commemorative Princess Di plate), and then walked into the Kensington neighborhood and spent way too much time at a bookstore! Or, rather, we spent the perfect amount of time at a bookstore!

I bought two books, Dan Jones’ The Plantagenets, an absolutely riveting account of the Plantagenet line of Kings, from William the Conqueror to Richard II, and Trevor Royle’s Civil War: The Wars of the Three Kingdoms, that involves the events surrounding Oliver Cromwell… to whom I hate to admit that I am very distantly related. Yikes.

We stopped at a grocery on the way back to our AirBnB stay to get some light nibbles for the evening, so that we could retire early and dine “in,” and just relax after our first day. Getting used to jet lag is pretty intense, and they say it takes a day for every time zone you passed through, just to get on an even keel. So, we’ll all be okay by the end of the week?

For now, I’ll bring this entry – and this day – to a close. Sam is working on his needlepoint, and my sister is looking up information on the Palace and the changing of the guard (see her comment above on the grey dress of the guards). It’s nice to just be here, and relax.

Relaxing “at home” is, I feel, just as important as going out and experience some of the nightlife – and sometimes even more important. We often say “We need to spend ALL day and ALL night out and get the most out of this or that place,” forgetting that to get the most of our somewhere, we need to make sure we’re getting the most out of ourselves. How much to we enjoy whirlwind vacations, when we don’t give ourselves time to breathe and just be?

A wonderful, quiet end to the day, looking forward to the next.

Cheers!

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A Wilder Vacation: Arrival!

I’ll admit, one of the primary reasons I began this blog, aside from having the chance to share my philosophy and menu surrounding our Wilder Thanksgiving, was to have the chance to store stories, memories, and photos from the Christmas Holiday vacation I knew we were going to be taking this December.

Where are we?

We’re in London!

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The Eye of London, from a bridge in St. James’ Park (Dec 17, 2017)

Myself, my husband, and my sister (who hasn’t ever been “across the pond”) are traveling in the UK and across Ireland, spending the actual Christmas weekend in a cottage on the Ring of Kerry (without Wi-Fi for three nights!!), and exploring the West coast of the Emerald Isle before returning on the 29th, before NYE in NYC.

We arrived in London yesterday, and it was a rough journey. We left Harlem three hours before our flight, planning to take an E train into Queens and arrive at JFK airport with two hours to spare. Due to a “sick passenger,” somewhere on the line, E trains were not going to Queens, so we decided to brave a taxi.

But… it was snowing in NYC.

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The haunting sky near Central Park during a snowstorm

Beautiful? Yes. But we should have known it would have hampered any vehicles ability to get anywhere in any decent amount of time.

Two and a half hours later, we arrive at the airport, fifteen minutes before our flight is supposed to leave. The attendants at the ticket counter assured us the crew hadn’t even arrived, yet, so we decided to brave security to get to our gate.

Lo and behold, we made it!

Aer Lingus was comfortable enough, and everyone was incredibly kind. I will say the plane we were flying on was a bit out-of-date. Before we even left the gate, we found that one of our seats was broken, and someone got stuck in the lavatory when the door malfunctioned!

And then our plane needed to wait two hours before leaving, to be de-iced…

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My favorite part of the flight – my sister on dramamine and a sleeping aid, whispering to me “My face is melting.” I took a sleeping pill, too, so I have no idea where we were when this photo was taken!

Needless to say, we arrived at Shannon Airport, in Ireland, two hours later than scheduled, but had given ourselves plenty of cushion time to continue our journey.

Taking a taxi from the airport to Limerick, we were headed for a train to get to Dublin, but our driver convinced us that a bus would actually be faster – there was an express bus straight to the Dublin airport. We arrived early enough in Limerick to enjoy our first full Irish breakfast and pick up a new friend to travel with us. He really enjoyed the views of King John’s Castle from the bus stop!

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Meet Seamus, the Sheep, enjoying a view of King John’s Castle, in Limerick!

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King John – yes, of “Prince John” of Robin Hood fame, and King during the writing of the Magna Carta, truly made his mark on Ireland – literally!

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For the uninitiated, a Full Irish Breakfast consists of fried eggs, rashers (bacon), bangers (sausage), roasted tomato, sautéed mushrooms, black & white pudding, potatoes, and baked beans. It is incredibly filling, and paired well with Irish breakfast tea!

And then we were on our way, to the last leg of our journey – the flight from Dublin Airport to London, UK!

 

Our stay is a wonderful AirBnB in Vauxhall, just a five minute walk from the Underground station, and the River Thames!

My goal is to split our trip up into several parts to post online, both to share and just to have a record of our experience. Sitting down and putting pen to paper, or typing letters onto the white screen – the blank canvas of my computer – with a cup of tea beside me… it’s the perfect way both to start a morning and to end the day. I look forward to writing more, and experiencing more in the moment.

(And of course, I plan on splitting up the days or experiences, just to make each post more reader friendly!)

For now, good night, good friends!

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Yes, the side table is an engine! I’m ready to write down everything we experience. Bring it on, London!

Walking in a Princeton Wonderland

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A tree in Central Park during the snowstorm (Dec 8th, 2017)

This past weekend, and right on the heels on my post about Autumn, much of New York City evolved into a truly wonderful Winter Wonderland. Snow flurries didn’t settle on the road, but everything they touched aside from the busy streets turned white, and it was difficult to see long distances (luckily the view below, across the Central Park Reservoir, is the only long distance view that probably exists in NYC).

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Central Park Reservoir, during a snowstorm (Dec 8, 2017)

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As you can see… a decent amount of snow! (Central Park, Dec 8, 2017)

That day, I was returned from an audition for Gilbert & Sullivan’s Yeomen of the Guard, with the Blue Hill Troupe, and had decided to take a walk through the park from the Upper East Side to the Upper West Side, instead of taking public transportation. Because… who would want to miss seeing all that snow in the park? Being able to just walk through a Park like that almost every day is one of the many things that makes life in NYC so special.

Staycation!

We’ve certainly taken advantage of what the city offers on a daily basis; parks, museums, historic sites and monuments, brunches and happy hours, skylines and greenways are all fantastic ways to vacation on a weekend or an afternoon and “get away” while staying where we are. Most people call this a “staycation,” and I’m actually surprised I haven’t used this word, yet, after having an entire blog post already (with more on the way) about my own “staycation” trips around the city! Exploring where you live is what “blooming where you’re planted” is all about!

When people talk about “staycations,” they’re usually spoken about in the context of hanging around one’s own city, taking the day to relax and vacation in one’s own neighborhood.

Merriam-Webster defines staycation in this way:

\ ˈstā-ˈkā-shən \ A vacation spent at home or nearby

But, also living in New York City, we realized there is ample opportunity for day trips to so many places nearby, outside of the city… and that a “staycation” in New York City could mean almost anything.

Like Princeton, New Jersey!

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Princeton University campus (Dec 10, 2017). No idea what building this is, but it’s beautiful!

On Sunday, a good friend of ours treated us to a trip to see a fantastic production of A Christmas Carol at the unparalleled McCarter Theatre Center in Princeton, NJ. The McCarter won a Tony Award for Outstanding Regional Theatre in 1994, and more recently was recognized as the original producer of the eventual Tony Award-winning play, Vanya and Sonia and Masha and Spike, by Christopher Durang.

A Winter Wonderland

Our trip began with a train ride from NYC’s Penn Station across the white fields of New Jersey (well, after getting past all the cities!), nearly an hour and a half in all. My husband kept nudging me, because transportation makes me sleepy!

2-course-sunday-brunch-menuAfter strolling through the campus and the college town’s quaint streets of shops, restaurants, and cafés, we had brunch at the elegant Peacock Inn. The meal was unparalleled, a prix fixe menu of two courses – completed of course, with complimentary pastries from the pastry chef, and the Bloody Marys we ordered. (What is brunch without at least one Bloody Mary?) I ordered some potato cakes with homemade applesauce and sour cream, while my companions both ordered a deconstructed gravlax! The second courses were equally delicious. Check out their menu!

 

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Who says non-selfie pictures are a thing of the past? Check out my giant scarf!                        (Photo courtesy of the valet guy!)

When asked for dessert in Princeton, I was taught to just say “No, I’m going to The Bent Spoon for ice cream.” I was told by our host that he said that to a server at a restaurant once, and the server replied, “Oh, that’s understandable.”

Sure enough, our brunch server said the same thing! And rightfully so, because their ice cream is quite epic. We visited the Bent Spoon not once but twice in the 9 hour span of time we were in Princeton. The first time, I had a sorbet they simply called “Autumn,” which was akin to a cranberry-apple cider, topped with a scoop of Mascarpone flavored ice cream. It was like eating a crustless pie!

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We posed in front of the store here, too. But you don’t need to see what my hair was doing in this picture…

Before we left, after I was absolutely stuffed from all the food we’d had over the course of the day, we got ice cream again. This time I went for the exotic Anise Seed flavored ice cream – not as potent and much more delicious than you might imagine – as well as another sorbet, a Cranberry Pear!

A Christmas Carol

The highlight of the trip, and the reason we were in Princeton in the first place, was to see McCarter’s production of A Christmas Carol. Suffice to say, there was no disappointment, whatsoever. Upon first entering the theatre and seeing the production’s “community ensemble” dressed in Dickensian garb – they led everyone in an older English carol before the show, and performed a hand bell choir in the entr’acte – I knew the production would be exciting and immersive!

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Had to document our experience in classic photo-op fashion! We then stood there for five minutes taking other people’s pictures…

Suffice it to say, this production has a lot of incredible people behind it, as well as on stage. David Thompson, who wrote the adaptation, is responsible for writing the new book for the 1996 revival of Chicago, as well as other works, such as Steel Pier, and the recent Prince of Broadway. Michael Friedman, of Bloody, Bloody Andrew Jackson fame, composed original music for the production, and the special effects were designed by Jeremy Chernik, who, among other things, will be bringing us the special effects for Frozen on Broadway, soon!

Following the production, we took a short walk down to visit (read: gawk at) Albert Einstein’s New Jersey home – notice that it is not a museum. I think they stress that quite well, don’t you?

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There are literally three signs that say “No Trespassing” before you even reach the front door. Think they’ve had a problem with people hoping this house is also a museum?

We satisfied our appetites with a visit to a favorite haunt of our friend’s, Winberie’s, before visiting the Bent Spoon yet again (seriously, it’s that good) and heading back to the train… where I promptly fell asleep.

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Winberie’s, per our friends tradition for after meal victuals!

All in all, a fantastic trip, with fantastic company – just extra proof that day trips from the city are within our grasp, and bring a myriad of experiences and surprises. I highly recommend each of the places into which we stumbled – and the beauty of the campus in winter is a wonderful sight! I can’t wait for future trips elsewhere (or back to Princeton!) and look forward to our annual vacation coming up for Christmas, this year!

 

 

 

 

Fall-yurveda in New York

 

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Whoever is alone now will remain so for a long time,
will stay up, read, write long letters,
and wander the avenues, up and down,
restlessly, while the leaves are blowing.

– From Autumn Day, by Rainer Maria Rilke
Image of Highland Park from Edgecombe Avenue in Washington Heights

 

Well, we had a few days of warm-ish weather, but Autumn has certainly asserted herself once again as the dominant season in New York – lots of leaves blowing in the gusts of cold wind that come whipping up the street or through the park (not unlike the winds of Oklahoma, that come sweeping down the plain).

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The falling leaves of Central Park today, December 7

Something I notice a lot about myself this time of year is more introspection and unexpected meditation. I often wonder if going internally this time of year is my way of connecting with Nature’s cycle of settling into the ground to “think” about what is going to bloom in the coming Spring. Maybe we all are supposed to slow down around this time of year, to take stock of ourselves?

In Ayurveda, this time of the year (the cold, dry, rough & windy time) is related to the dosha known as Vata. Vata relates to the air element, and essentially involves all things dry, cold, and… well, full of air. In our bodies this can relate to anything from excess flatulence (Ayurveda is all about digestion) to spaciness and even, in its extreme forms, anxiety and nervousness.

There’s a saying in Ayurveda, that “like increases like,” meaning that anything that has dry, cold, rough, air-filled qualities of Vata will increase those qualities in our bodies, leading to excess and imbalance (more flatulence, more anxiety, more spaciness, etc)  But there are easy ways to assuage this quality in ourselves during Vata season.

Like I said in one of my first posts, Ayurveda is actually common sense.

Dry sinus passages? Steam bath!
Dry, chapped lips? Chapstick!
Dry, rough hands? Lotion!
Feeling spacey or nervous? Take a few deep breaths!

Combatting these dry, cold, rough feelings is as easy as introducing their opposites, and we’ve known this all along!

Ayurveda is so much more than how the elements interact with our bodies and what we put into them. Ayurveda’s central concern is how our digestive system is working. In Ayurveda, the gut – and what we put into it – is the key to everything. Taking this “like increases like” idea to the gut, what better way to soothe the Vata in our bodies than with warm, viscous and nourishing foods?

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An Ayurveda-inspired Fall breakfast of stewed apples with ghee (recipe below), baked oatmeal, and Rose-Tulsi tea!

Below is one of my favorite morning meals, and it does wonders to pacify Vata (and Kapha, but that’s a later story). Morning is the best time to eat fruit, according to Ayurveda, and breakfast shouldn’t be skipped! This makes the perfect (and quick) light meal.

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Vata-Pacifying* Stewed Apples (adapted from Maharishi Ayurveda’s and Hale Pule’s recipe)
*Vata best describes the cold, dry, and rough environment that is most familiar to us in the colder months of Autumn, and warm dishes such as this wonderful breakfast/dessert dish are incredibly good to combat it!

  • One medium/large apple (or 2 small ones)… how much apple do you want to eat?
  • 1/4 cup water
  • 5-6 cloves
  • handful of raisins (optional)
  • Sprinkle of cinnamon and/or cardamom (optional)
  • 1 teaspoon ghee* per apple
  1. Peel, core, and roughly chop the apple into bite-sized pieces. Add the apple, the cloves, and the water, and raisins if you prefer, to a pot on medium-high heat. As soon as it begins to boil, turn the heat to low and allow to simmer for five minutes or more, until soft. I’ve found covering the pot is helpful.
  2. When the apples are tender, put them in a bowl (straining out the water) and add the ghee, with a sprinkle of cinnamon and/or cardamom if desired.

Maharishi Ayurveda recommends this as a light everyday recipe (not just for fall). According to Maharishi Ayurveda, stewed apples can

build an appetite for lunch, stimulate regular bowel movements, increase vitality and alertness, and provide a light but satisfying start to the day.

All in all, sounds great, right? Stewed apples (and cooking fruits in general) are much easier on the digestive system and release a lot of nutrients – and adding spices adds even more aide to your digestion.

As I mentioned in my first posts, “blooming where you’re planted” isn’t just about exploring where you are – it’s about taking care of yourself so that you can blossom to your fullest. I want to fill this blog with lots of juicy tidbits that I discover on my own path… thanks for joining me on the journey!

*Expect a post all about ghee soon!!

 

A Morning Meditation

Good morning!

As we begin the day, and especially in light of the heavy and difficult post I wrote yesterday, I wanted to take a break and share something that popped up on my timeline on Facebook, from 2012.

I was going through a difficult time, then, and was trying to reinvent myself. I had just rediscovered the Unitarian Church, a humanist fellowship, without dogma, whose belief in the “interdependent web of all existence” is a favorite concept of mine, and I had started walking every morning from where I lived in the Paseo Arts District of Oklahoma City, to the First Unitarian Church.

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The steeple of First UU in Oklahoma City. Image taken from their website.

I’d been gifted a UU Hymnal from the Unitarian Church in Norman, where I’d first discovered Unitarian Universalism – my boyfriend at the time was a piano player (much better than I was) and we’d been given the hymnal in the hopes that he might play for the church on any given Sunday. He didn’t, but when we parted ways, he left the hymnal behind. Only a year or so later, and I’d be opening it again, and start poring through its pages every day, posting quotes and readings online as often as I could, in an effort to channel more positivity in my life, and send gratitude out to the Universe (thank you, Louise Hay)… hoping to find healing for the challenges I’d been facing that had broken my spirit.

The following poem, written by Mary Oliver, and first published in Dream Work (1986), doesn’t appear in the hymnal, but was read aloud from the pulpit at the beginning of one of the services I attended at First Unitarian, in Oklahoma City.

In the midst of the other poems and readings I’d been posting on Facebook, I posted this poem, exactly five years ago, today.

Every morning
the world
is created. 
Under the orange

sticks of the sun
the heaped
ashes of the night
turn into leaves again

and fasten themselves to the high branches —
and the ponds appear
like black cloth
on which are painted islands

of summer lilies.
If it is your nature
to be happy
you will swim away along the soft trails

for hours, your imagination
alighting everywhere.
And if your spirit
carries within it

the thorn
that is heavier than lead —
if it’s all you can do
to keep on trudging —

there is still
somewhere deep within you
a beast shouting that the earth
is exactly what it wanted —

each pond with its blazing lilies
is a prayer heard and answered
lavishly,
every morning,

whether or not
you have ever dared to be happy,
whether or not
you have ever dared to pray.

Mary Oliver, Dream Work (1986)

May you each have a wonderful morning and find the chance to share your gratitude with the day – in the hopes of receiving it back, tenfold.

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Morning on the Quiraing, Isle of Skye, in Scotland (from our trip there in October 2016)

 

#GivingTuesday: Karma Yoga

Is it just me, or do other people find it odd that we have three “holidays” of consumerism, #BlackFriday, #SmallBusinessSaturday, and #CyberMonday, bookended by holidays named for the act of “giving,” Thanks-giving and “Giving Tuesday“? (I had no idea #givingtuesday had its own official link)

Don’t get me wrong. I love deals. My husband and I are planning a trip back to Ireland and the UK this winter, for the December holidays, and have been eyeing deals Friday and Monday at REI and Uniqlo for warm and affordable wear while we’re there.  I also highly support small businesses – we celebrated Small Business Saturday with time spent at Indian Road Cafe, for one, and even bought apples from Inwood’s Farmer’s Market.

And, of course, I support giving.

Giving and Karma Yoga:

During yoga teacher training, I learned about several different kinds of yoga, from Bikram, to Hatha, Kundalini, Raja, Iyengar, Vinyasa, Ashtanga, etc., etc. The list goes on and on (and yogis are developing new structures and “types” of yoga all the time!)

One kind of yoga, and one of which almost everyone is familiar in some way, is karma yoga.

According to the Vedanta Society of Southern California, karma yoga is

the yoga of action or work; specifically, karma yoga is the path of dedicated work: renouncing the results of our actions as a spiritual offering rather than hoarding the results for ourselves.

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When we say, “what goes around, comes around,” or “karma’s a bitch,” or, of course, “instant karma’s gonna get you,” we generally think of karma as the thing that comes back, especially when someone does something shady. But, karma isn’t the boomerang.

Karma is simply the “action.”

Read that above quotation, again (not the Lennon one). Karma yoga is action performed “renouncing the results of our actions.” On that note, I suppose, true karmic yoga goes hand in hand with something like “Giving Tuesday.”

Okay, so the connection is obvious…

We don’t need a lecture, or even an entire blog post, to show how karma, as “action,” as good action, relates to something like “Giving Tuesday.”

But I wanted to share an article I read recently, that a friend sent me, and how I feel it connects to this idea of “renouncing the results.”

In NYC, we pass by a lot of displaced people, or, “the homeless.” Many of them may be relatively well-put-together, with what seems like an obligatory “God Bless” cardboard sign, or with detailed explanations of their life’s journey, or a family pet they still hold close. Still others clearly have been on the streets for some time – or are nearly on the streets – and suffer from ill health, addiction to drugs or alcohol, struggling perhaps to form coherent words and sentences, or even walk or hold their heads up.

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signs collected as part of the Sukkah City project in Union Square (2010). Photograph captured from Rael San Fratello

According to the Coalition for the Homeless, the number of people sleeping in homeless shelters is up 74% from ten years ago, and most of these people are the victims of a lack of affordable housing. Many struggle with mental illness. The Treatment Advocacy Center states that lack of affordable mental healthcare is forcing many patients to be turned out onto the streets.

Clearly, this is a problem… but what does it have to do with “Giving Tuesday”?

The classic “should I give money to a panhandler” debate is fraught, and over-exhausted. But, in the light of karmic action, and a holiday of giving, I wanted to share some thoughts.

Atlantic Monthly wrote in 2011 that while directly giving money is certainly a relief to those who need it, donating to charities that help those who need is the better long term solution. But, their viewpoint is still a bit problematic. They write that there is a two-edged sword to giving “beggars” money (I admit I cringe at their use of that term):

There’s not enough change in our purses. We choose to donate money based on the level of perceived need. Beggars known [sic] this, so there is an incentive on their part to exaggerate their need, by either lying about their circumstances or letting their appearance visibly deteriorate rather than seek help.

If we drop change in a beggar’s hand without donating to a charity, we’re acting to relieve our guilt rather than underlying crisis of poverty. The same calculus applies to the beggar who relies on panhandling for a booze hit. In short, both sides fail each other by being lured into fleeting sense of relief rather than a lasting solution to the structural problem of homelessness.

I’ll admit, I’ve always thought that giving to charities or shelters that aide people who are displaced or suffering on the streets was always the most long-term efficient way to help them. But… it doesn’t immediately help them. Even the Atlantic, in the same article, admits that with time lags and fees it takes a long time for money to make its way to helping individual people.

And, I really don’t like it when people speaking (or writing) from a place of privilege, of any kind, claim to know the intentions and mindsets of those who appear to be beneath them.

What should we do? How can I give a dollar or change to someone on the street, when I know they might use it to buy drugs or alcohol, and not food?

Recently, I was sent this article, from The Guardian, written by former drug user and founder of the charity User Voice, Mark Johnson. His point? That if an addict uses your dollar to buy drugs… it’s none of your business.

That’s a hard pill to swallow. He writes,

…frankly, it’s none of your business where an addict is on his journey. If your money funds the final hit, accept that the person would rather be dead. If your act of kindness makes him wake up the next morning and decide to change his life, that’s nice but not your business either.

Your business is to know that money desperately needed by someone went directly into his hand.

It hurts to hear that it’s none of my business if someone takes the dollar I give and funds their addiction – be it drugs or alcohol. But I also don’t understand what it is to live the painful lives of those who are willing to be degraded and dehumanized on the street in order to get something they feel they need. And I do know that the affordable housing problem is very, very, very real, in NYC.

Johnson, in his article, does recommend exercising caution with “legal street beggars,” whom he calls “charity chuggers.” I’m assuming he’s telling us to do our best to discriminate who is on the street because they need to be, or are forced to be, and who isn’t. But this brings me back to Atlantic Monthly’s presumption that they know what “beggars” are thinking when they decide to milk the system.

You  might guess who else shares his opinion.

Pope Francis.

The Pope was interviewed by a Milan magazine before Lent this year, where he had some fantastic things to say about “giving without worry.”

But what if someone uses the money for, say, a glass of wine? (A perfectly Milanese question.) His answer: If “a glass of wine is the only happiness he has in life, that’s O.K. Instead, ask yourself, what do youdo on the sly? What ‘happiness’ do you seek in secret?” Another way to look at it, he said, is to recognize how you are the “luckier” one, with a home, a spouse and children, and then ask why your responsibility to help should be pushed onto someone else.

Sounds a lot like Johnson’s case about worrying your money will be used for drugs, doesn’t it?

And… giving without worry is certainly another way of “renouncing the results of our actions”?

Regardless of anyone’s stance, I hope that giving to charities that help people in need, people that don’t share the same privileges many of us do, is a practice of yours.

But, when I can, I will give.

This #GivingTuesday, I encourage you to consider giving that change or that dollar in your pocket to someone in need – when you have it to spare. Or, engage them in conversation and find out if there is something they need that you can help them get. But work with compassion, “renouncing the results of our actions.”

For charities that support the homeless, consider donating to one of the following:

Safe Horizon – helping victims of crime and abuse, including youth homelessness

City Harvest – working to fight hunger through food rescue and distribution

The Doe Fund – connecting displaced people with jobs

 

 

Blooming in NYC: Inwood

As promised in my last post, I want to continue the “bloom where you’re planted” theme in my writing by sharing the various things I find in my city when I seek out all it has to offer. If you’re not from NYC, maybe you’ll get some tips on what to visit when you’re here (or at least let you know what else exists here, aside from Times Square and other various tourist hellscapes…) If you’re from NYC or the nearby area, maybe you’ve seen what I’m describing and can chime in, or haven’t visited it yet and might want to check it out!

After spending my “Black Friday” outdoors in nature, far from the maddening crowd, my husband and I decided to travel even further uptown Saturday morning – originally planning to visit Fort Tryon Park, after breakfast at Rue La Rue Cafe. Sadly, Rue la Rue is closed (hopefully temporarily), but we opted for something that ended up being a fantastic adventure: Inwood!

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Muscota Marsh in Inwood Hill Park. Henry Hudson Bridge crosses Spuyten Duyvil Creek.

For those that don’t know, Inwood is the upper most neighborhood uptown, on the island of Manhattan (Oddly enough, the Bronx-situated neighborhood of Marble Hill is still considered part of the Manhattan borough). Inwood is, essentially, everything north of Fort Tryon Park.

What’s so “In” about Inwood?

Home to incredible restaurants and bars, such as The Park ViewLa Marina, Darling Coffee, Tryon Public House, Guadalupe’s, a 233-year-old Farmhouse-turned-museum, and more, Inwood is also home to quite possibly the most untouched natural landscape that Manhattan has to offer.

According to the NYC parks website,

Evidence of its prehistoric roots exists as dramatic caves, valleys, and ridges left as the result of shifting glaciers. Evidence of its uninhabited state afterward remains as its forest and salt marsh (the last natural one in Manhattan), and evidence of its use by Native Americans in the 17th century continues to be discovered. Much has occurred on the land that now composes Inwood Hill Park since the arrival of European colonists in the 17th and 18th centuries, but luckily, most of the park was largely untouched by the wars and development that took place.

Inwood’s parks are the real deal. This is “old New York” at its oldest, and I’m excited to share a bit more about my interactions with Inwood Hill Park, as well as the morning I spent there this weekend.

Story Time!

Back in March of 2014, before we moved to NYC, we took a trip up here partly to scope out potential neighborhoods for our imminent move that fall, but partly for me to do research on a play I was directed in Oklahoma City, for a Native American Play Festival.

The play is titled Manahatta, written by Oklahoma-born, NYC-resident Choctaw playwright Mary Kathryn Nagle (it was being simultaneously workshopped at The Public Theater in NYC, and is now being performed at the Oregon Shakespeare Festival as part of its 2018 season). It tells parallel stories of the Lenni-Lenape people who originally lived in Manhattan (“Manahatta” is a Lenape word, meaning “island of many hills”) and were tricked into “selling” the land to the Dutch, and of a 20th century Native Delaware woman trying to reconcile her life in New York City, working on Wall Street, with the native roots of her ancestry, displaced to Oklahoma where her immediate family still lives. It was well received!

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OKC Theatre Company’s Manahatta starred Maya Torralba, Zack Morris, and Rachel Morgan. Artwork by Rachel Morgan.

I spent a lot of time in Inwood that March, discovering not only the “Indian Caves” where the Lenape people would camp while they spent their summers fishing in the nearby bodies of water (and are still in use today as shelter for the displaced), but the “Shorakkopoch Rock,” where, according to some legends, the actual transaction between the Dutch and the Native tribes took place.

The “Indian Caves” of Inwood Hill Park

Inwood - Shorakkopoch RockShorakkopoch Rock, where some say the infamous “sale” of Manahatta/Manhattan took place.

My husband and I host a walk from Inwood to Battery Park every fourth of July, in part to honor the history of the island, its original inhabitants, and its sordid relationship with the past and founding of our country. We have always begun our walk at this rock, even if it might not be the actual site of this legendary transaction.

Fast Forward to This Weekend…

In my last post, I had mentioned the “North Woods” of Central Park as a place that can very often be a true escape from the sights and the sounds of the city… but nowhere on the island of Manhattan is there a greater escape than Inwood Hill Park, where you’re not only escaping sights and sounds of the city, but much of the past millenium. The park is where you’ll even find Manhattan’s last surviving salt-water marsh (apparently there were once quite a few on the island), revitalized thanks to Columbia University, which has a boat house just next door.

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Muscota Marsh today.

Our day on Saturday began here, near this very salt water marsh, having a weekend brunch at the Indian Road Cafe, which we had first discovered this past summer during the Drums Along the Hudson, a Native American and Multicultural Festival.

Indian Road Cafe describes itself as “a restaurant in constant motion,” changing menus seasonally, and providing local artists and musicians the chance to display (or perform) some of their work on a weekly basis. Their menu also features local goods – they try to source as close to home as possible,

using a large group of Hudson Valley farms and producers. We also have relationships with purveyors on the Arthur Avenue (some call it the real Little Italy) in the Bronx, and source a great deal of fresh pasta, cheese, and meats a short ride away on the 12 bus. (from their website)

Saturday brunch included bottomless mimosas (I’ve said before that moderation is key, so only attend bottomless brunches in moderation), fresh fruit – as locally sourced as possible – and eggs from nearby Feather Ridge Farms. Oh, and some delicious French Toast. All in all, it was a wonderful meal in a wonderful place.

Outside the restaurant, there was even a “leave a book, take a book” stand. They clearly knew all the right buttons to push to provide us with the best start to a Saturday morning stay-cation experience in NYC.

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Of course, being that far north in Inwood, we couldn’t help but take advantage that afternoon and walk across the Broadway Bridge to the Marble Hill Target… but that’s a boring story that doesn’t need to be told here (except that I lost my great-uncle’s vintage sweater while I was there, alas!)

All in all, another wonderful chance to bloom here in NYC!

Have you been to Inwood Hill Park? Or, what’s your favorite part of Inwood?

If you’re not from these here parts, definitely consider visiting there when you do – and let me know, and I’ll tag along! And let me know where else I should visit that you might know, in your own city or state!