Monday, December 26, 2011

Walk Therapy


One of my greatest pleasures is the quietness of nature. I learned to develop a love of this when I was a child and would play in the woods all day. The snap of the twig, the chirping of the birds, hearing the winds blow through the weeds in an open field on a hot, dry day. For me, the quietness and unassuming quality of nature is so tranquil that it allows my mind to feel meditative and almost spiritual.

Last spring, I enjoyed a few months where I took walks at the lake in the morning after the morning school bus ritual. This not only gave me the benefits of weekly exercise, but it also gave me some time for my spirit. Most of the time I would listen to nature and allow my mind to wander. As a mom, there are very few times in a week where you enjoy enough silence to organize your own thoughts. This time served as a "spring cleaning" for my brain as I organized my goals, relationships and how I feel about being here. I also used this time to listen to some spiritual podcasts which helped me feel a greater connection to God. Some people enjoy Talk Therapy, but last Spring I had a big ol' session of Walk Therapy.

One wet morning I decided to enjoy an extra-long walk at the lake. I knew my therapy schedule was going to be altered soon with the ending of school and the beginning of summer. Summer is such a busy time for our family and solitude will be scarce. I walked about 5-6 miles that morning, really appreciating every aspect. The wet, wormy smell of the earth... the big buoyant ducks, diving their heads underwater for a minnow... the hypnotic timing of my feet as they slapped the pavement. All of these sights, sounds and smells seemed like a rare treasure to me that day as my mind kept fighting to drift forward to the busyness of summer.

Much to my surprise, I found 4 hearts on my walk that day! This puddle heart was the most unique since it could only be seen by looking at it from a certain angle. I also like the fact it was created by a hole/dent in the pavement which reminded me of the "void" between heaven and earth that is referenced in the Tao Te Ching. In it, Lao Tzu said, "We fire clay and make vessels; it is precisely where there's no substance, that we find the usefulness of clay pots" (the hole in the middle). I like meditating on this thought. Very often holes are thought of as losses in our lives. Losing a job, needing a friend to talk to, saying good-bye are all ways we experience voids or holes. Yet sometimes it is that same void that leaves us open to experience new things like embarking on a new career, meeting new people or exploring parts of our spirit. If our lives are in a constant state of overflowing, how will we ever enjoy the pleasure of being filled up?

So today I embrace the holes in my life and choose to see them from a certain angle; not as a loss, but as an opportunity. "Thus, while existence has advantages, It is the emptiness that makes it useful.”

Sunday, December 18, 2011

Cats in a sack!


Holiday baking is a very special time. The warm oven making my face flushed, being dusted with flour, the smell of butter and sugar wafting through the air. For me, it is a little bit of heaven! Of all the recipes I make each year, the ones I enjoy are those that have been passed through my family for generations. One of the most delicious, and challenging of these is Katze-im-sac.

Katze-im-sac is translated to mean "cats in a sack". These are cookies that are rolled thin and filled with a walnut meringue. The sides of the cookies are folded over to create the sack. As they bake, the meringue creates a gooey, sweet nutty filling and the edges are crispy and buttery. They are very difficult to make and have taken me years to perfect them to the liking of my grandmother and great aunt. "Roll the dough thinner" my great aunt would say. My grandmother would politely gobble them up, but I remember the year I got them right, her smile was much bigger than years past. I finally found the trick to getting the dough very thin and enjoy making these each year. I even use one of my grandmother's old wooden boards to roll them out on (which is one of my secrets).

Several years ago, in 2009, I was rolling out my katze-im-sac. I was thinking of family and all the years we have enjoyed this recipe. I thought of my great aunt who had passed away and wondered if I was making this batch to her liking. As I continued to roll and fold my dough, this one rolled right into a heart! I realized in that moment that when I cook and bake for my family, my heart is behind it. I make these little gems each year to not only celebrate the holiday but to allow older members in my family see that their traditions are anchored firmly into place. They have shared with me the art of transforming butter and sugar into a time travel machine that visits all the years of Christmas past.

This year I am celebrating my first Christmas without my grandmother. I am finding it very hard to motivate myself to bake which has made me aware how much I was inspired by her presence. One of my greatest pleasures was taking a ride on that time machine with her, but this year I will be denied. As the last few days before Christmas fly, it is my intention to put on the apron and dedicate a day to baking. This year my focus is on my children who are learning to appreciate these cookies each year. Perhaps there will come a time when I will be visiting my grandchild and he/she will be rolling out that dough for me. "Thinner, thinner..." I will tell them, as the crispy meringue transports me through the Christmases past. I can only imagine how deeply meaningful that would feel, and I hope my grandmother was able to experience the same.

Saturday, December 3, 2011

A friend moves away...

From a young age, I have always been very selective about who I let into my life. I was not one of those children that was wildly popular, but usually placed my faith in one or two friends who I felt a great loyalty and admiration for. These people were treasures to me, and I have cherished each and every one I have met over the years.

One of these friends was a woman I met through my daughter, back in 2003. Her daughter and my daughter became great friends; and, as a result, we began to see a lot of each other. This woman quickly became important to me for many different reasons. Aside from our daughters being close, I found her to be an amazing mother... full of patience and encouragement. She also took very good care of herself and her home (all you moms out there can relate how hard a task that can be at times). In addition to all these admiring traits, she loved to cook, laughed at all my jokes and made me want to be a better person.

One day, as we stood in the parking lot of the dance studio where our daughters were taking their lessons, she told me through tearful eyes that they were moving. Her husband was being transferred down south, thousands of miles away. We gave each other a hug and cried at the thought of our lives no longer being intertwined. How would I get along without my friend there to cheer me on and make witty observations over our daily challenges and joys?

After they settled in their new home, we took a flight down to see them. It was like old times with our kids playing and us cooking in the kitchen sharing our stories, laughing and listening to each other. One day we went for a walk to the neighborhood playground. It was a hot day, and the kids were far ahead on their scooters with us lagging behind, yelling warnings and helping our smaller children make their way. All of the sudden, we looked down and found a heart in the pavement! I stopped our whole group and made her take a picture of it on her phone.

To me this heart meant our love and friendship was solid and permanent like this hole in the pavement. Over the past 8 years we have kept in touch. Sometimes we talk more than other times; but always we remain friends, picking up right where we left off. No matter what path we may take, we know we can always count on our friendship. Love has no sense of time and is unchanging. As long as we have love to share with someone, we have access to something truly divine.