what it is for me

living genuinely
with passion for the small things (yerba mate lattes, a moment of tai chi in the sun, organic apples)
being mindful of my temple and our mother
and keep a desire for more (better, different, change)
learn
and share (books, knowledge, self, energy, heart)
create something(s) beautiful
respect the attitudes (differences, dreams, hopes, incompatibilities, energies) of others
authentically

On food.

Lately I've been thinking a lot about eating habits and food in general (as is my custom when the weather turns warm and veggies fill my refrigerator and when I'm going to school for nutrition) and I've decided to make some changes.

First, I've been dabbling in the idea of giving up fish for about six months now and I've decided that this is the time.  I don't eat fish very often any more (basically only when we go out for sushi) but shrimp is a pretty regular part of our diet at home.  It's easy to cook and a good compromise between vegetarian food and the lobster's meat eating ways.  But in light of the tragedy happening in the Gulf of Mexico and the fact that Sean and I took a vow of no eating out for the month of June (more on that in a minute), no fish this summer.  I feel better knowing that I'm doing a very small part to help stop over fishing especially during this fragile time.  And, I've decided to donate 20% of every sale in my shop for the month of June to help clean up our mess down there in the gulf.  And then Sean and I will match the end total...  I hope this will be enough to save a few pelicans.

Second, the 'no eating out' thing.  When we eat at home we are very conscious of the food we're putting in our bodies, but the unfortunate fact is that Sean doesn't like to cook and I'm often beat by the end of the day and the last thing I want to do is stand in my (super tiny and uncomfortable) kitchen and be creative with food.  So we grab a sandwich, Chinese, a burrito from down the street.  Too much.  We've been eating non-home cooked meals about 3 days a week and not only is that not good for your health, it's not good for your pocket money or your waist line, either.  At the beginning of the year I cut out fast food (and have not had fast food since 2009 except for some onion rings in the middle of nowhere and for Sean's birthday dinner... bleh.) and so for my mid-year goal I'm going to be more aware of eating out habits.  So far so good.  Yesterday my brother and his adorable girlfriend (and Courtney and co.!) stopped by on their way to sushi.  How strong am I that instead of sushi I stayed home to make egg over pasta?  SO strong.

Third, the dairy thing.  I really don't eat that much dairy.  No milk ever (don't like it and I'll never go back after finding the nectar of the gods (read: Vanilla Rice Milk)) and light on the cheese, please.  Except that lately I haven't been so light on the cheese.  Lately Sean's been buying bagels and whipped cream cheese for breakfast and I bought the most delicious goat cheddar cheese and Trader Joe's has the most to DIE for extra sharp cheddar ever.  It seems I used up all of my foodie strength when I said no to sushi.  Now, the thing about dairy is that I'm mildly lactose intolerant so I get really uncomfortable if I eat too much cheese... That doesn't usually stop me from eating it.  But my new vow is to listen to my body.  If dairy is making me ill, I'll stop.  Promise.  Oh, and no butter.  I have a weakness for toast with butter but I'm hoping to find a reasonable substitute so as not to encourage my body to crave dairy products.

Fourth, I'm taking my cookbooks out of my cupboard.  I'm not sure where I'm going to put them, but since I put them in there to save space, I haven't taken them out once.  And the internet is sort of a poor substitute for flipping pages.

So there you have it, a healthier summer.  There's really no excuse for anything but the most amazing home cooked meals... Seeing as how in Santa Cruz there is a farmer's market almost every day of the week and they are filled to the brim with organic delicious produce.

Oh, and two words for you.  Bacon avocado.  Go, buy, die of amazingness.

P.S. I finished something lovely.
P.S.S.  Tutorial on the magic of blocking tomorrow.

A soul journey.

Where do you find your peace?

We're at a time of decision and transition in this house. There is a bit of discord, a bit of excitement, a bit of worry, and a lot of deep-down-hard-to-reach-to-the-gut soul searching. Discussions over strawberry waffles about new places and different scenery turn to long drives to clear heads and then there are more discussions of new places (this time over Vietnamese food). Paths are crossing and turning in unexpected directions and then looping around into oblong shapes that won't fit neatly into the angular hole we've cut out for it.

What it is like to have a personal goal and a steady direction: New, exciting, peaceful, inspiring, dreamy.

What it is like when my ideals/goals/directions do not line up with the man of the house: Frustrating, frustrating, frustrating.

What it is like to compromise with someone: Hard.

I have such an idea of what I want for myself. A couple of degrees, a home office or collaboration of like minded individuals, a healing place, artistic freedom, and a nice little home in the mountains. This is where I want to be. I want a degree in Nutrition and I want a masters in Chinese Medicine and I want to heal through gentle ways and provide a safe place for others. This is a new goal for me and I'm proud of it. I find my peace in these ideas.

Unfortunately, it seems that the path I would choose to take to get there doesn't coincide with the wants of my other. Our peaces are separate, our ideas polar, our journey is presently rocky. We need to find a new ground to stand on (and we will). We need new ideas, new excitement.

And so I ask you, where do you find your peace?

Renewal

There's nothing like getting up early to catch the perfect light on your front porch. This one is named "Wanda" and is worsted weight merino, 198 yards of yummy squishiness. Keep an eye out for it in the shop on October 1st!

Yesterday I was feeling a bit bored of life... You know the feeling. "Where do I go from here? Why hasn't anything new happened? Why doesn't home feel comfortable? Is this really it?" It was a difficult day spent spinning on my mother's couch.

So last night after an obligatory stop at the pool hall to hang with the boyfriend and friends (did you know I can be somewhat of a hermit? And a flake? But I showed up for a drink and a laugh... That's love.) I came home and did a little renewal ritual. A hot shower was in order, then a tiny little clean up of my bedroom (as in put away the piles of clean clothes and packing materials). How can I sleep comfortably with a big pile of 'to do' staring at me from the corner of the room? I lit a candle for a new day, a little aromatherapy (spearmint and eucalyptus for clarity of mind), some craft supply organization, a moment to write in my journal, and a deep sleep.

And you know what? Today feels good. Mr. Lobster is still sleeping soundly (he didn't get in quite as early as I did) and I got up early to use these moments of quiet to do a little revamping. The etsy shop is all ready for its first scheduled update, there's a new blog banner, my roving is organized, and the morning gave me some great pictures of the yarn I finished yesterday. I love the light on our front porch at 8:00am. It's just perfect in every way.


Our camping trip was lovely. It was really really cold and rainy, but so nice to get away for a couple of days. We did a lot of sitting by the fire trying to keep warm, we climbed some rocks, walked around the lake, and spent time talking and focusing on ourselves. Even though we were freezing, I wouldn't trade a view like this for the world.


I think the dogs had a good time, too.


And now, Lobster is awake and I'm going to try to convince him that we have a serious lack of eggs benedict (hold the ham, substitute avocado, please) in this house. See you tomorrow!

Three years.

This is my favorite photo of us... Taken 2.5 years ago at his birthday party.

Mr Lobster and I have been together for 3 years today. We have a cool (and a little bit tragic) story about how we got together, but I'll spare you. Instead, behold the reasons I love this man (this is by no means a comprehensive list, just the reasons that are weighing heavily on my mind today). Besides being the kindest, sweetest, and most inherently good person I know, I love my honey because...

... He does the laundry for all of us and doesn't ruin anything. And he gives the dogs baths when he cleans their bedding so they don't stink it up again. And he takes the garbage out before I even think about saying that it's full.

... He makes the most amazing goat cheese and tomato quesadillas ever.

... He stayed home from work for two days to be here with the animals in case of evacuation while I went and played with my favorite ladies. Then he cleaned the house so I could spend all day today spinning my new roving and dealing with the stress in my own way.

... He thinks that the anniversary presents we got each other (sleeping bags that zip together and a new tent) are just as romantic as I do.

... He buys me potted flowers so that I can plant them in our garden and enjoy them longer than freshly cut flowers.

... He can untangle any yarn knot I plop in his lap. And he doesn't complain when I ask him to ball my yarn for me. Nor does he complain about the sheer amount of yarn there is in this house and just smiles complacently when more comes in the mail.

... When I rearrange the house or re-paint the bathroom/bedroom/living room he nods in agreement (even when he knows how much grief it will cause him to have to move a chair to open the refrigerator and that I'll be changing things again next week).

And I love him because even though some days we want to strangle each other, our life together is just heavenly.

Happy anniversary, babe.

Hi World

I'm sitting here in my living room (next to my knitting, tea, camera, and kittens) and I've had a lot on my mind lately. Thought I'd share a real blog post instead of the frilly stuff for a change.

I've had a rampage of icky emotions swirling through out me these past days (weeks) and they haven't abated with time, which means they're real (they've stuck) and need to be explored (talked about, written about, drowned in).

There is a pull within me to see new places, have new adventures, start over as often as possible. Something in my blood craves change. New wind, new smells, new sights, new journeys. The idea of a brand new life (a new start) somehow calms me. For as long as I can remember there has been no question about whether or not I would stay put and sit still. Even as a kid I was the one always getting in trouble for going too far, too fast. My entire adult life has been filled with movement. From an apartment next to the train tracks to a remote 5 bedroom half an hour away (up a windy and treacherous dirt road) from the closest store. The idea of a new place. It does not fill me with anxiety over loneliness, jobs, money, new and old friends, the dreaded move. Instead I tend to overflow with excitement (dreams, peace, balance). I can't help it, nor do I want to. I view it as a gift that is bestowed upon a select few, "the searchers" (see side bar). I see this need (want, inherent attribute) as a virtue. I will undoubtedly see the world and see it well.

That being said, not only have a lived here (in one place, one city, one house) for over a year, my traveling means have diminished greatly with being laid off last summer. Money is tight with one income and day or weekend trips (or vacations to far off places) are just not in the cards. With this stagnation of body comes stagnation of spirit.

stuck
fat
lethargic
uninspired
dreary

Creative endeavors interest me for a fleeting moment and than disappear. Inspiration to beautify my space comes and then wanes just as quickly.

Have I resigned myself to this life? Have I turned this beautiful place into a cage? Do I see this for all time? What steps do I make to get to where I want to be? There are always steps.

Of course, I have a problem with those, too. Steps that seem right (go back to school, live off student loans, begin anew in a few years) on an intellectual level don't often feel right to the heart (guilt, I've already asked so much, it's all my fault for getting laid off, what can I do if the mail doesn't bring my check when I need it?) These steps that may seem to be leading a path in the right direction can feel oh so wrong. (The anxiety doesn't lay in finishing school, it lays in staying in one place until that happens, by the way.)

Dreams of big things.
A PhD and a teaching and writing career with summers off to explore the rest of the world.
Living in a colder climate where creativity flows freely as rain and rivers.
An RV and no destination.

All of these worries and anxieties will calm themselves in my heart, it will just take a while.

Oh, and if more people don't comment on my giveaway post I think I'll cut it off early. You don't have to promote if you don't want to... Just leave a little love!

I'll leave you with this:



A moment of bliss.

"Patience is passion tamed."

Today I'm struggling with identities.

Identity is an interesting (and sometimes troublesome) thing. I try to view it as a jumbled, haphazard combination of emotion, soulfulness, actions, thoughts, and processes. All of these things are strings reaching from the universe and into your soul. At the core of every being, a knot of these things is formed, sometimes new threads (upbringing, events, emotional response to new situations, etc.) worm their way in and help to make the knot tighter and stronger and more jumbled. Soon the knot begins to felt, and the strings that would once find a weak spot to grab onto can no longer work their way into the core. Maybe a particularly tenacious experience can break down the felted wall a bit and then there is a small but potent hole. The hole begins to fill, felt, and again become hardened and stronger.

Identities can get lost quite easily. They're easy to ignore. They can sometimes get snagged by things like social roles, possessions, money, job status.

Mine has been snagged by household chores, by cooking dinner every night, by owning flowy skirts, by buying yarn, by homework and finals. The little pieces that have been sticking out of my knot (which is not even close to felting yet) have been unwound and turned into unsure emotions.

My identity rests firmly and solidly (shakily and restlessly) in things like
adventure
quick decision making
art
dance
using hands to create (or destroy)
the wind
museums
nature
activity
volunteering time and energy into helping other sentient beings
long drives to nowhere
time flying
tea
organic cookbooks

And lately my identity has been waylaid (time to step off the platform) by things like
making dinner every night when I'm not hungry
art supplies tucked away in storage
talking too much and acting too little
waiting
compromising
buying too much
cleaning the house before Sean gets home
feelings of self worthlessness
sitting on ideas for too long
long hours
soda and alcohol
doting upon a man
learning patience

I'd like to back to the first. How do you embrace both in order not to lose something (one) important to you? I'm tired of life lessons and long for the days of carefree creativity in the wee hours of the morning.

Struggling with things like identity today.


Title quote attributed to Lyman Abbott

Uninspiration.

Failed attempt

So I'm pretty good at finding inspiration. I have my rituals, my inspiring blogs and websites, lots of art supplies, textures to touch around me, life in my home.

First I look at my inspiration folder on my computer. Images, words, ideas I've saved over the months that resonated within me. Then I cook something (spinach and goat cheese grilled on sourdough wheat bread anyone?). I like that cooking takes raw ingredients (and usually organic ingredients, too) and creates something completely different. Art is like that, too. The structured process of cooking (melt cheese, wash spinach, butter bread, grill) usually helps me loosen my creative spirit. If that doesn't work I make the bed and do the dishes. So that I feel accomplished in the day. If that doesn't work, pull out yarn/paint/paper/pens/journals and play with them. Not actually creating, mind you, just touching, rearranging, organizing, and looking. Sometimes that doesn't work either. Then it's on to rearranging furniture and creating a better space for my body (and hopefully my mind will follow). Going for a walk sometimes helps. Meditation and a few yoga poses. Dusting the bookshelves.

But some days a Cary Grant movie, grilled cheese, and a little bit of knitting is the only way to get through the day.

Death and Green beans

Nona at her 92nd birthday

My beautiful vibrant super-goddess of a great grandmother died yesterday. Her life force had seemed to dwindle a long time ago, and I know she was glad to go, so I'm not sad. In its own way it is tragic that there will be no more hilarious and accurate stories told at the dinner table on Thanksgiving and Christmas ("You're father," she shrugs at my grandmother, "Eh, he was okay. But Vincenzo!" Complete with Italian hand gestures and everything.), but the tragedy is my own, not hers. She was ready to shed the body that couldn't keep up with her anymore and move onto something new and free.

I would say that she'll come back as a crow. And I mean that in the nicest and most revered way. She's not cut out to be a human again quite yet, and crows are the smartest and most fantastic birds that exist. On the other hand, Nona was very wise and peaceful within herself, so maybe she's done this time around and got to go give her God a talkin' to about the state of things. I'm sure she'd be happy to give him a piece of her mind, she was never at a loss for opinion.

Death is a funny thing. So cyclic and natural and even soothing in some ways. The idea that it all comes back to home, it all comes back to a life force and that the vessel you travel in is just that. A vessel to carry your force.

So eat green beans with a pound of garlic and olive oil, walk barefoot, and drink red wine. Live to be 96 and vibrant.

Cheers, Nona.

By Jen Lemen

The bottom of everything is love.

That's what I thought to myself while she cried, while I cried, while we argued about everything without ever touching the real thing. That her heart was hurting from an old wound. That she was counting on me and I was counting on her and that we had let each other down when it mattered the very most.

We won't talk about this again. Ever. Can we agree on that?

I shrug. Sure. Whatever. We can talk or not talk but the truth is it is still here, this sadness, this fierce love, this beautiful tension between what we hope for and the way it is.

Dealing.

I have a ridiculous amount of emotions running through me today. Breakdown status.

I start this new job tomorrow and I don't want to. I think that it's not the right move for me. Even with jobs that I don't really want I feel a bit of excitement, but not this one. Dread. It's closing a lot of doors for me. If I take this job, I'm resigning myself to less money. I'm resigning myself to a 9:00 to 5:00er again. I'm resigning myself to a job where I won't be learning anything new. Where I won't be able to work as easily for my independent contract companies, where I won't be able to go to school during the day for things like counselor meetings and buying books, where I have to be awake and conscious in the morning, which means I won't be awake and conscious in the evenings when I'm at my most creative. I'll be sitting at a desk. I'll be staring at numbers and spreadsheets and data and nothing pretty or creative, or even on my career path.

So what do you want?

I want to go back to school. Double major in Spanish and Nutrition, minor in Linguistics. While I go to school I want to be able to financially support myself through selling wares and independent contract work. I want to learn new things. I want to advance. I want to use my knowledge for something other than putting stamps on letters and packing boxes for trade shows. I don't want to work in sales or administration, unless I'm running things under my own discretion. I want to work in research, or in wellness, and I want desperately to be bilingual (not conversational, actual honest to goodness bilingual). I want to do some fun internships and I want to explore areas I've not lived/worked/learned in. This is what I want. And I want to do it at UCSC or in Portland OR.

I will get there.

If I commit to this job until the school year starts (Feb 9), I can take a day off to make the rounds to Cabrillo, De Anza, West Valley to take care of transcripts. This job has 2 weeks vacation for winter break, and that would give me time to get a nice inventory of wares up in my etsy shop. I'm sure I can find a part-time flexible job so that I may go to school full-time. If I can survive for one semester and get decent grades I know my parents will help me with paying for school, and probably reimburse me for the semester I'll have to pay for. So that means I need to get the money together to survive for the next 7 months. If I make $400/week during school I can go to school full-time and still make rent and pay bills. So if I can save up enough money in the next two months of working at The Boomerang Project to pay for school for one semester, and maybe a little cushion, then find a part-time job for school, I should be okay.

I think I can do this.

I think I can commit to working at this job for 2 months, and then moving on. I can be Brie, the bilingual nutritionist who works in research travelling around the world and listening to different people talk.

I think I just figured it all out.

Notes to self:

http://www.apartmenttherapy.com/sf/house-tours/mini-house-tour-serenas-cozy-santa-cruz-surf-shack-san-francisco-065358

Even when you think nothing is going on, stars are aligning.