ebb, flow

another nola weekend that felt like heaven, even though carnival season is gearing up down there and the hotel I chose- highly appropriate for a valentine's getaway and all- was right smack dab in the center of the chaos. oh well! I finally, after years, had some moules frites that brought back lovely memories of my studies in Belguim and made my taste buds happy. the saffron aoli was to die for, and the cheese plate was pure bliss. count on nola to always top the previous foodie experience. this one was as close to divine as I've ever been, down to the warm cloudy brioche in a beautiful clay raku pot. (photo below of restaurant Patois). the libations never dissapoint either- had lovely, insanely unique cocktails and met the usual colorful characters. along with some really wonderful family time for both of us that warmed me to my core. I've decided to banish the  cynicism and doubt that have bloomed up like bad mold around some recent unfortunate learning experiences and allow my soul to blossom and expand like the mardi gras always encourages us to. a fresh breath of carnival atmosphere was just what I needed to remind myself that taking myself too seriously is no way to live and thrive. the delicious flavors and the prescence of my beautiful love didn't hurt either-so many blessings to be grateful for. but I am more able to look into some of the complex and difficult situations in my life and face their ineffability without that self-masking sardonic vibe.  I would much rather be in awe of life, celebrating life, looking for the silver lining and the flambeaux (mardi gras torch holders, a gorgeous and vibrant tradition).

Some things are easier ignored, and I understand the urge towards oblivion. I always have-and procrastination, doubt, fear that we channel as we go through this wild and ineffable life are sometimes very hard things to bear, indeed. But allowing yourself to remain frozen and circling endlessly in the negative aspect is never a fruitful or vibrant place to dwell. As Dickinson so simply said, dwell instead in possibility. Let the doors to your soul remain open and allow the new fresh currents of air in. Life was not meant to be analyzed play by play but to be lived, and every day we choose the palette upon which we paint our day. Today, even though there are many grays and dark colors, I choose a bright red, a happy hue, ochre and vivacious and alive-with possibility 

interiorly

I am open to the guidance of synchronicity, and do not let expectations hinder my path - Dalai Lama

January is a peculiar month. The first week spent in furious or ecstatic resolution then the inevitable frustration when the previous reality sets in. I vowed not to make resolutions (which I suppose was a form of resolution in itself) then decided I needed a list of possibilties that I would love to see come true in 2012. Indulge me, i wont share them all (they add up) but there are a few that I keep thinking about, and planning in my head...it's a lovely process and I encourage anyone to try it. More than anything, it gives you positive things to ruminate about as opposed to the usual laundry list of problems big and small. Why not daydream about delicious, titillating prospects? I am beginning to understand that the more I take care of my interior, my soul, my spirit, my feelings...the more I can believe in myself and the ways in which I can sucessfully navigate my world. It sounds simplistic to say that joy and bliss are inside-out phenomena but the truth of that is driven home regularly to me lately. No external can subsitute for housekeeping of one's psyche and for the eternal reaching into the recesses of the soulful, tender part of our existence. We do so at our own risk- and if you feel opaquely grey and somewhat lost (it happens, it happens) this is a good time to knock the dust off of those dreams and get moving. Inspiration is always readily available if you keep the searchlight on within. The world can be quite effective at degrading and eroding our defining passions, but tuning out those less than encouraging voices and focusing relentlessly on what you feel you want is vital. Really, what is this existence but the opportunity to find what makes you come alive, thrive, shine? That deserves true resolve. True grit!
Possibilities:
much more travel--and not necessarily too far...as long as I'm rambling, exploring, adventuring
live music, plays, symphony,dance--love the cello, love musicals and acoustic music. never get enough.
optimum health--it's long overdue. hot yoga! walking for miles.
church in some form--I think I'll haunt the cathedral. I went the other day and it made me feel positively ethereal. I'd go to Temple and the ashram, too. Any and every path to spirituality.
meditate, meditate, meditate. why is this so difficult? the results are amazing. and it's simple as pie.
helping out--I need to remind myself and my kiddo how lucky we are. there are so many ways to donate time and effort to worthwhile, humane (and canine) causes.
family time- I really miss my dad, my grandparents, my cousins. need to make time for visits.
knitting and embroidering- my grandma taught me these hobbies and I haven't used them in ages. shame!
learning to cook new things in even healthier ways
a new language! Im thinking arabic
revamp the casa (it so needs it) lots of painting
a HUGE garden. huge. veggies, herbs, flowers. BIG.
yoga certification. in kundalini. I'm so ready to teach once I hit my stride.
writing in this blog all the time. until my fingers cramp. :)
I just re-read Ashley Judd's memoir and some Christopher Hitchens (RIP) and I'm struck by the similar tones in the epilogues. They have rituals for healing, for inspiration, for motivation. I am looking to create my own rituals with my son and my people. I don't want to sleepwalk through my life. I've achieved so many things and it has only made me more determined to continue to ascend and to enjoy every moment that flows my way. I want to build a gorgeous vista within.

progression

happy new year to all--may you feel fresh in your path. I took some pretty drastic steps in 2011, it was definitely a banner year. lots of accomplishments wrapping up and decisive moves. yet, as Osho wrote, new peaks appear instantly, new heights begging for attainment, and I find myself resisting the inertia of basking in the afterglow of these milestones and walking swiftly on. I reminded myself, staring at the beautiful full moon last night, that is was vastly important to slow down and proverbially smell the roses (I sniffed my big rosemary instead-a much headier smell) because I always have the tendency to rush on at warp speed. It's almost a disease-processing things at such a fast pace that I lose the feeling, the accompanying sensations. And so much is always happening that it can be like that wack a mole game (do they still make that game?) where you are relentlessly pounding the moles as they surface, one after the other, bam bam bam. Sometimes, you have to put down the mallet and take a stroll.
And nowhere is this more apparent than in love. Or perhaps I should say relationships- the application of the emotion. We fly through the breathless beginning, propelled along by pheremones and expectations, setting higher stakes and taking bigger plunges (if things go well). Somewhere along the way we may begin to take it all for granted and lapse in our archealogical exploration of the other person. Indeed, the relationship becomes its own entity and you begin to focus more on that than your partner. You look to it for nourishment instead of your soul. You lose the thread of connection. I think it happens more often than not. It's beyond important to examine the soul of your interaction and check in with the other person on that level. I feel like my love and I came back from a precipice-after looking over the edge and contemplating another route! all of that being said nothing feels quite as lovely and thrilling as a love renewed, rekindled. I feel like the winner of a very special lottery. I thought I knew love before--but it's not falling in love that is the most amazing feeling, its staying in love, finding new inroads to the deeper places, getting to know someone ever more profoundly. It makes life very beautiful. And I don't think I could be any more grateful or any less afraid. Which is the absolute best way to begin a new year.

Be not the slave of your own past. Plunge into the sublime seas, dive deep and swim far, so you shall come back with self-respect, with new power, with an advanced experience that shall explain and overlook the old. -Emerson

dog days aren't over

There are so many amazing things about southern Louisiana. The list is endless-creole food, lavender twilights, golden haze, jazz...it goes on an on. Unfortunately, there is a huge drawback-the stifling, killer, 100% humidity heat. We are all boiling like crawfish in a pot here, and it makes everyone indolent and irritable. Faulker wrote about the heat of the deep south, even personified it sometimes-many authors have-and indeed it is a prescence, alive in its insidious high noon attack and gentle in moonlit cicada evenings. Sadly, school has begun and the kiddos are bouncing off of one another like overcharged atoms colliding, and I can't seem to keep it cool enough to soothe their flaring summer tempers. Where is autumn already? I can't wait for the arctic breezes.
Autumn has always been my favorite time of year. I know holidays are the obvious choice, but the moment I step outside and feel a crisp morning breeze break through the burning heat. That moment is always so thrilling to me, I feel it in my toes. I tingle with delight, anticipation, and the same sepia toned reel runs through my head, as it has since I was a little girl: football, bonfires, pumpkins, Thanksgiving feasts, Charlie Brown specials,hot dogs at the superdome, my dad cooking huge pots of gumbo and stew to keep of the chill. Jackets, sweaters, caps. A feeling of freedom and the imminence of Christmas. It's a glow, a relief, and a deep breath of joy. Another autumn, with the endless possibilities cooler weather brings to the broiling swamps.
And another evocative autumn experience...the halls of my son's elementary school, which bring to mind so many autumns of my own childhood. A different town, a different place, but the smells and the sound are strangely the same. It was so bittersweet to be there, to be waiting for him while sitting in a tiny chair, to be meeting the eyes of so many other mothers, to be feeling like I was in a surreal window of time-seeing so clearly the transition from toddler to boy, knowing I've lived every day that came in between but still feeling as if something has slipped from my hand and passed me by. I never imagined I would feel quite so nostalgic and sentimental, those being emotions I don't regularly associate with progress and change in my life. I usually don't look back for fear of turning into a pillar of salt, and getting stuck in the interim. I move forward fearlessly. But this tiny human has changed all of my inner logistics, and I'm a soft-centered melting pool of emotion wathcing him charm everyone he meets and yelp excitedly at his new "cafeterium" (he said, all aglow, "mom, look! a BUFFET"!) I'm still laughing inside at his excitement.
We all want life to be smooth and seamless, when the truth is the mistakes and gaffes and strains really do produce amazing results. Sometimes even more beautiful for all their chaos and flash than the long worked for dreams and safeguarded hopes. It's easy to love what we planned for and hard to embrace the moments we are out of control--but spinning wildly and without one hand on the gears can be such a refreshing release of inertia and ego.
Summer had me in a daze, recovering from an insanely hectic few months. I unwound and found a place of deep solitude--when my son was away and my partner working long hours, I would breathe silence and stillness in like oxygen. Meditation and yoga became good friends, and for the first time since pregnancy I felt like I connected with every part of my body, down to my toes. The heat was almost sophorific, and it helped to press me into my deepest interiors, to lull me into the most profound serenity. The cathedrals inside were suffused with bright sunbeams, and I watched from the shadows, the warm light making patterns on my hidden soul. Now that time has passed-more quickly than imagined-and I am coming awake, the opposite of hibernation, post-processing all of the changes, ready for a fresh, crisp new beginning. Like the notebooks and pencils of my youth, the just bought supplies and books that held the promise of potential--I am ready to begin again, having passed through the fire and been re-born like a phoenix, alive in my new skin.

re-discovered

It's funny how deeply our habits and rituals influence us, leave their intaglios on the shore of our lives. I always look to the fresh start, the new day, the beginning. Inspiration comes in a rush of knowing that the horizon will be different tomorrow, or Monday, or in the new year. I'm always prepared to shuck off the old and bring in the new in the name of innovation and progress. It's the way that I feel renewed and phoenix-like in my rebirth.
Sadly, I'm not as good as continuing on the enlightened path, and the brave new world seems to fizzle and morph back into the bemoaned one of yesterday. It's difficult to make new habits, carve new pathways, and believe you can live in the brigher light. But I feel like the last few years of tectonic shift have finally led to a breakthrough. The light is coming through, the clouds are clearing. I've developed a newfound appreciation for my family, for my health and body, and for love. I think that my engagement was the first step to a lot of this release. Love makes you vulnerable and strong enough to face yourself , and allows you to begin to peel back all of the layers that have kept you numb and safe from any real life experiences. It's funny, you can travel, you can have a child, you can have so many amazing friends and lead this whirwind social life and still be completely cut off and barely conscious. I think after my pregnancy I annihilated my sensitivities, I ate drank and smoked them away, I used anyone who seemed intruiging to distract me from the depth of my sorrow and to shield my from the requisite pain of living. Anything to relax and be cool and shrug off the stress. And it was some stressful, make no mistake. It was a heap of troubles. And I think I bought into the idea that ironclad strength was to be valued above anything; that armoring my body and soul, keeping them cloaked in layers of impermeability, was the only way to succeed. I lost so much of my soul along the way, so much of my passion. But lost is the wrong word--it's never lost, it's just out of touch, buried inside, beneath all of the rubble of the massive destruction you've waged against your own life.
So now I'm an archeologist, and it's compelling and exhausting :) I don't believe there's anything as vital as unearthing your true self. That has to be part of the reason we are here, anyway. I love Abraham-Hicks (google it) because it's beautiful to believe that we really do create our reality by knowing what our pure desires are and using them as springboards into possibility--endless possibility. Thailand taught me that nothing is impossible. So many miracles occured there, on so many levels. I know that all I must to is release what I do not want and call what I do want to me, to my soul. I did it with love and now I must to it with life. Nothing is too much or too hard or too far. Nothing is out of reach.

A man's reach must exceed his grasp, or what's a heaven for?

time and place

life is so sanguine lately. so calm, it's bemusing. I've been reading so much about pure consciousness and the illusion that is reality, I think I've almost transcended any sense of urgency. Life has that lovely haze; that feeling that you got as a child when things were hushed and fragrant and sunbeams playing with dust motes was enthralling, and hours were spent in the contemplation of clouds and mirrors. I miss that so much, I didn't realize the hole that wondrous awe left behind inside of me until I started having moments of that again. It's amazing when you don't need a place or a drink or a lover to transport you--when you can get your own adrenaline rushing, your own endorphins fluttering in your bloodstream. We are full of biochemical possibilities.
a small part of me knows I need to integrate all of this relaxation and enlightenment with some vigorous creative endeavor. I do, after all, have a 100 something page thesis to write on Creole women. and I best hurry up vite vite because more and more people are appropriating the term creole for any and everything so it may lose a bit of that freshness that I need it to have for publication. I need to approach this as a book, an ouevre, and not a required task to slog through. been thinking I need a little Nola river road trip to refresh my mind and excite me. Pics to come on the places being featured-it really is all very intruiging. I've always admired these "vestiges of grandeur" and wanted to weave the spirit of history and romance into my own little life. these places are almost indescribable in their preternatural calm and beauty. when I take my friends they are always enthralled...the ancient trees, the crumbling bousillage brick, the murky swamp. transporting...
anyway all of this daydreaming and cat napping isn't very condusive to academic pursuit and an intellectual life but after the stress of the summer it helps to balance and clear things a bit. I resolve not to worry close to my former level ever again-I see why people age, with all of the modern ways in which we allow stress to conquer us. I have to believe that things can be different, that enough cooking and loving and pottery and books and puppies and gardening can keep one indefinitely balmy and youthful. On that note, I will soon be baking fall bread and re-creating my grandma's gumbo and daube, as well as my aunt's stew. this will be the autumn of creole cooking, to celebrate my book. I won't use the term thesis anymore...my great first work. I've come a long way from teenage romance mimicry-love that this is a topic I can respect. mad props to this fantastic laptop, because I've learned so much (and played too much, too).

life is but a dream, and we are the dreamers of dreams...such a fantastic day to be alive and to discover a million and one fantasies...it's raining warm here in the deep, silent south.

my little savage

this kid rocks my casbah. he's wily, and pretty eloquent for a four year old. not that I'm biased, or anything. heaven help me when he starts reading in a couple of months and starts asking the really big, difficult questions. there are no words that can adequately explain the sheer terror and ecstasy involved in being someone's mama. it still dumbfounds me when I wake up in the morning and his huge melted chocolate eyes are staring into mine. he has my mouth-my grin-wry already in spite of his lack of years. he makes me want to bake cupcakes and hula hoop. such a fresh soul. then he makes me want to rip every follicle of my hair out. the hardest part is that I'm no longer with his dad-I won't really give him the title of father- and I don't get to control that part of his life. I would never cop to being a control freak but there you go. It makes me want to inhale guacamole by the pound just thinking about it.ha. or wine. lots of pinot noir. live and let live is so simple to say and so terribly hard to do. I was looking at the stars the other night thinking that there were women all over the world with this searing conundrum-their hearts no longer reside in their bodies, but instead are ambling about in the free, dangerous, exhilirating world with a propensity for scarfing down goldfish and jumping off of sofas. he looks just like a little boy, but really he is the personification of every single desire I've ever possessed distilled into the essence of sweet chubby feet and brown sugar smooth skin.my little dark peach. my creme brulee.