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Love Never Faileth

Love Never Faileth

Love Never Failith

When I moved to my first apartment after my divorce, it marked the only time in my life that I had rented a space on my own…ever. It may seem trivial to some, but this move represented a huge part of the rediscovery and redefinition of self that often accompanies a life change.  A higher power was looking out for me when I found the small one bedroom apartment just a few blocks from where I had lived before.  On my first tour, I meet the building manager and his wife. They lived on the first floor and had a constant stream of grandkids visiting and playing in the courtyard. I immediately felt safe. This was so very important given the circumstance of my separation which I have not shared as yet. It felt as if they had expected me and were in fact, waiting for me. In retrospect this was the Divine working directly within me in a desperate moment of need. I paid the deposit on the spot with everything that I had in my bank account and prepared for my new independence.

Shortly after settling in, I inquired with the building manager about setting up a small community library shelf.  To my surprise the answer was yes! I joyfully scrapped together some change and bought an inexpensive IKEA book shelf. I soon filled it with the books that I had been hauling around for a very long time. It was like a weight had been lifting and at the same time a connection formed with my new community. Soon the neighbors started to add to the collection and some even shared with me how much the small library warmed up the building space. This is when I experienced another divine intervention.  One day when organizing the shelf, I noticed a small and worn paperback.  It was called Love Never Faileth.  My first thought was, “yes it does fail, look at me now!”  Even with that internal dialogue, I was still draw to this book. I flipped it over and read the back, and turned it back over and gazed at the cover. It absolutely called to me for reasons I did not fully understand. I borrowed the book and set it on my nightstand not opening it for yet another three months.

I do not recall the circumstances that finally lead me to pick it up and read, but once I began I could not put it down. Eknath Easwaran was a spiritual teacher that understood the universal truths of spirituality and was not afraid to blur the lines of practice. This book specifically has been a treasured addition to my war chest of inspirational books.  I finally bought my own copy and have read it repeatedly.  I can pick up the book at any time and open to a random page, read a few paragraphs and feel inspired.  It is as if it is speaking directly to me. The language permeates my being and moves me in a deep and meaningful way.

Mr. Easwaran investigates love in the eyes of four historically prominent figures: St. Francis (my personal favorite), St Paul, Mother Teresa and St Augustine. The commonality of all four is astounding.  When faced with a difficult situation, I read a few pages and most often feel the weight of my issues start to fade. In its place is a welcome reminder that we are all tasked with treating others in a loving way, especially when it is most difficult. It takes me out of my head and into my heart.

I place Eknath Easwaran firmly in the family of modern mystics. He was not afraid to cross traditional religious boundaries to demonstrate we are more alike than we are different. He also believed in the nurturing of an intimate and personal relationship with the Divine in addition to the religious practice that one might choose.  It is because of him that my mantra is the prayer of St Francis (see below).  I have memorized it and repeat it multiple times a day as needed. It always, without fail, brings me back to the pools of my soul. For that I am eternally grateful for the angels that lovingly introduced me to Love Never Faileth, Eknath Easwaran and St Francis.

A Prayer of Saint Francis of Assisi

Lord, make me an instrument of your peace.

Where there is hatred, let me sow love.

Where there is injury pardon,

Where there is doubt, faith,

Where there is despair, hope,

Where there is darkness, light,

and where there is sadness, joy.

 

O Divine master, grant that I may not so much seek to be consoled as to console,

To be understood, as to understand;

To be loved as to love;

For it is in giving that we receive

It is in pardoning that we are pardoned;

And it is in dying that we are born to eternal life.

 

 

The Cookie Dance

The Cookie Dance

Yesterday was a dancing, singing and baking  day.  Have you ever had one of those days? Baking is just not the same unless I am dancing around and shaking my booty, much to the embarrassment of my children if they are visiting and happen to witness this. I put on my Sara Bareilles Pandora station and let loose. When did it become taboo as an grown up (and I use that word lightly) to dance with total abandon and sing at the top of our lungs? When did being an adult become synonymous with sophistication, control and lack of any kind of a spark?

I remember clearly during my years of raising my kids when I often forgot what my name was. My children called me mom and strangely enough so did my ex-husband.  When I heard my name it was almost as if it was directed at someone else. The young girl I longed to remember was a creative, loving and gentle spirit that loved to dance and sing. Who was I now if not all of those things? Why must I give up that identity to “fit in” and abide by cultural norms?

When I am at work,  I contain so much of who I am in order to do my job. I actually leave work with a headache and completely tapped out. The energy required to conform is all consuming and frankly, exhausting. Over time  it becomes possible to forget who the authentic self  is. In this state of false self, I am not only lying to others but I am then lying to myself.

Part of my commitment to myself is to get back in touch with that young girl who was such a gentle spirit. Before the rigors of life required protective walls to be built and a veneer of professionalism projected to the world.  If that means that I take a day to bake, dance and sing with total abandon, so be it. I no longer am willing to give my power to others by listening to that inner voice wanting acceptance. I choose to love myself for everything that I am and everything that I am not. I fully embrace the possibly that I am that quirky and uniquely different and beautiful person out in the world. Mysticism allows for living in the unrest of the moment, without having to have everything defined or figured out.  It is in this unrest that moments of clarity come and new direction makes itself known. It is truly amazing to me that at times, everything must fall apart in order to come back together in a new and wonderful way.

In the meantime, I am exploring the questions of life one batch of cookies at a time. Well maybe three quarters of a batch…all of that dancing and singing makes me hungry, so of course I ate some of the dough!

 

Cookies first

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Pecan and Almond Chocolate Chip Cookies
A paleo cookie made with a combination of pecan and almond flour that has just the right amount of nutty flavor balanced with the sweetness of dairy free chocolate chips.
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Prep Time
10 min
Cook Time
12 min
Prep Time
10 min
Cook Time
12 min
Ingredients
  1. One cup ground pecans
  2. One cup ground almonds (I grind blanched almonds for a bit of a crunchy texture)
  3. 1/4 coconut oil
  4. 1/4-1/2 cup coconut flour
  5. 1/4 cup coconut sugar
  6. 4 eggs (this is not a typo)
  7. 1 tsp. baking soda
  8. 1 tsp. cinnamon
  9. 1 cup dairy free chocolate chips
Instructions
  1. In a large bowl, mix the ground pecans, ground almonds, baking soda and cinnamon.
  2. Add the coconut oil, eggs and coconut sugar. Stir well
  3. Add in the coconut flour as needed. I used somewhere between 1/4-1/2 cup
Notes
  1. I do not grind the nuts to a fine flour. I like it a bit grainy which gives the cookie a nice nutty vibe;
  2. Be careful with the coconut flour. Let the dough rest a few minutes after adding in this flour. It absorbs moisture and if you add to much the dough will be dry. I do this slowly until the dough becomes the texture I want.
Mystic Cookie https://mysticcookie.com/
Coloring Outside the Lines

Coloring Outside the Lines

Color outside the lines

Going to church this past week, I closed my eyes, lifted my face upwards and felt an instantaneous and transcendental relationship with the lord. I didn’t need to follow the words spoken by the priest in any real sense. It was not necessary to complete my experience, appreciated, but not necessary. How do I explain this? In simple terms, “I feel”. This type of understanding is not looked highly upon in many religious practices. The idea that I could have an intimate relationship without jumping through the hoops or rules of a defined practice makes people uncomfortable. The rules of religion can be a way of controlling the experience and I have no interest in that.

Each one of us is unique and that is by design.  As long as I can remember, my experience has been an intimate one. Very real, but uniquely mine and outside the social norms of religious participation. Historically speaking, this is much more akin to older practices when people had tangible interactions with a higher power. This may have changed with the advent of early Christianity and the infusion of older pagan rituals in an effort to include more by way of familiarity. Now, don’t panic. I did just use the word “pagan” and some might cringe when hearing this. For me it acts as a placeholder for historical context. I do not profess to follow any specific practice and that includes paganism.

Semantics aside, what is wrong with going back to the old ways, the mystical ways? I am not saying that church is not a good way to explore faith, on the contrary. I am able to go into most churches and enjoy the community, being with other prayerful people.  It feels safe and welcoming. Even when I disagree with the tenants of a particular practice, I can still gain something from attendance. I have ventured into Catholic, Baptist, Unitarian, Protestant, Lutheran, Jewish, and Buddhist communities. Each is precious in its own way, allowing a cherished space for contemplation. Mysticism is about constantly questioning and being comfortable resting in the unknown. The very concept that a particular faith has all of the answers astounds me. How can that be? I visualize religion as pieces to a much larger puzzle, the puzzle of the greater universe.  We can fiddle with the pieces over a long period of time before we can fashion a complete picture at the end of this physical life.

My current practice includes a deep desire to connect with nature. Some dance or sing, others might meditate, for me it is simply walking outside, with the sun on my face, feeling utterly small but at that same time connected to something greater than myself. It is a feeling that I am able to recall at any time. I can close my eyes, visualize and am transported back to that moment. I feel warmth, love and connection while completely encircled by a protective white light. It is truly a wonderful experience.

As a child I was always this way. I was probably considered weird and different. I don’t even want to know how difficult it was for my parents. Extremely sensitive to everyone’s energy, I felt so much. I felt that connection without understanding what it was. I was not able to feel any comfort in the unknown but rather felt confusion and isolation. I developed fears of the larger world and was scared of being alone. Opening myself up to all of the energies that permeated my reality and not knowing how to process them was a tenuous road for a young girl. I became very shy and only had a few close friends. It was a lonely road. I craved the kind of intimacy one feels with a greater power and no amount of real people interactions would fill that void. I studied dance because in the moments of intense work, it was just me and the music.  All of the misunderstood energies coming at me dissipated and I found calm working on the technique. I also had moments of connection moving to the music; it was transcendental and fulfilled me more than anything else.

This takes us back to the theme of coloring outside the lines. To be a great artist or thinker, one is always encouraged to think outside of the box, create and experience the art directly. Why must spirituality be thought of so differently?  We are, after all, the architects of our life, of this journey, why can one be ostracized for not fitting inside the defined lines of practice? In my view this is hypocritical. It is in completely freeing ourselves from societal norms and expectations in regards to religion that true experience begins. A freedom exists that allows one to think and engage in a way that fits, rather than a forced interplay. I encourage all of you to color outside the lines of your life. It can be terrifying to move against the grain and at the same time a tad bit rebellious. Embrace the discomfort and know that the venture into the unknown is right where you should be.

 

The Cookie Divorce

The Cookie Divorce

CookiesReturning home from a long day of work, the first thing I reach for after walking in the door and dropping my bag of books is one of my “healthified” cookies from the freezer. Before dinner you say? You bet! How about before breakfast… (Slightly menacing smile). I have suffered through my fair share of diets in my day. As a former dancer, I know all too well how to limit food intake and I have been wary my whole adult life not to repeat that pattern. Dieting is something I know how to do, and do well. So where do massive amounts of cookies fit in this picture you ask? Like the stock market crash, The LA Lakers playing like a “B” team and my youngest child leaving for college… desperate times call for desperate measure.

For me desperate times was the years leading up to my inevitable and crushing divorce after over two decades of marriage. Let me walk you through the evolution of my life as a cookies monster (I prefer the title cookie connoisseur) without sharing too many of the gory details.

The Rice Krispie Bar

I know what you are thinking. A rice krispie bar is not a cookie. I humbly object. Not a cookie in traditional terms, but most definitely a cookie bar in my universe. I enjoyed everything about these sugar filled M&M carriers. As a mother of two middle school aged kids who loved inviting their friends over, I ordered copious amounts pizza and made my famous (roll the red carpet) holiday themed, M&M Rice Krispie bars. Life was good. Or was it. Behind the sugar high was a deep and growing sadness. Unbeknownst to me, my husband had been having an inappropriate relationship with a dancer for six years…let me say that again…. six years. That is not an affair that is a relationship. She lived with us for a while and as life would have it, I was oblivious to what was happening right under my nose. After the whole thing exploded in epic fashion, I chose to take him back and try to preserve my idea of a family. Hence the sugar themed, everything is awesome parties. Except everything was not awesome.

The Whole Wheat Oatmeal Chocolate Chip Cookie

No arguing here, the classic oatmeal chocolate chip cookie is definitely a cookie. To say I was depressed at this point is a gross understatement. I even stopped eating for a while. When my appetite finally returned and my husband agreed to limited counseling (skip forward to the next section if you want to know how limited), I focused on renewing my health. Looking back, I wanted to be attractive again and feel desirable. Not that I ever wasn’t attractive by most standards. Given the circumstance I found myself in, I felt the need to amp it up. Unfortunately, whole-wheat flour did not agree with me. My face broke out in hives, I itched and my stomach regularly did cartwheels. Not a pretty site and not good for what was left of my self-esteem.

The artificially sweetened Chocolate Chip Cookie

Arriving almost on cue, in rode Splenda and for a moment I thought all my prayers were answered. Still on a crusade to lose those pesky ten pounds that life can throw at you, I came across the chocolate chip cookie made from peanut butter, splenda, and eggs. Hot Damn! This I could get on board with. This was the ultimate cookie for dieters. I didn’t care that Splenda seemed a little sketchy? I was in. It didn’t help matters that I had just had a miscarriage.  I was so very sad. My husband didn’t have much to say; in fact he left for work in the middle of the tragic event . Denial rears its ugly head once again. I know you see it, but I was not ready to. After all, I had Splenda cookies and they were awesome…until they weren’t (foreshadowing alert).

Gluten Free Chocolate Chip Cookies

By now you can probably see a pattern. I love, love, love chocolate chip cookies. Hand down my favorite. If you are looking for the sugar cookie divorce chronicles, you are reading the wrong story. The gluten free cookie marked a turning point in my separation and eventual divorce. You will be surprised to hear that I was the one that asked for the divorce. Crazy right? All of that denial and I finally grew a backbone, blew up like Mt Vesuvius and gave him his marching orders. He had lied to me over and over, cheated on me and continued to blame me for most of his wrong doing. Stay tuned for my soon to be published psychological thriller titled “The Narcissist and me”.  Not only did he blame me for destroying our family and sending our children to a life of inevitable crime (so dramatic), but he also rented an apartment right next to my building that overlooked my unit. Stalking is a real thing folks. He then proceeded to suck the financial life right out of me. We never had a lot of money, but this period of time was akin to being two clicks away from homeless. I had worked for him, encouraging his artistic endeavors for two decades. Now what? My health was not good due to the ever growing, huge load of crap I was going through. Thankfully my sister suggested I look into food allergies. I eliminated gluten and BAM things started looking up. I experimented with brown rice flour, brown rice syrup (see my new food advice book, brown rice syrup and gas…not the good kind) and just about rice anything. I was no longer making a dozen cookies at a time but three or four dozen a couple times a week. I was a crazy, cookie machine. I gave most of my creations to others and thankfully didn’t blow up like a whale, but that did not stop me from constantly baking. I was sad, really sad. I am more than sure that there were a few tears in some of those bowls of cookie batter.

Grain Free Cacao Butter Cookies

Confused? Yup, I was too. I improved for some time, but all of the stomach upset, crushing fatigue and foggy head symptoms returned in full effect. Being a woman of extremes, I decided to try a completely grain free eating plan. If the cavemen could do it, why couldn’t I? That’s right, no rice, no barley, no sourdough, no nothing…(sad face). Almond flour was my new baking companion. I ditched the gas producing brown rice syrup and graduated to honey. Experimenting with the Specific Carbohydrate Diet, I discovered Cacao Butter cookies with only four ingredients: cacao butter, honey, almond flour and baking powder. Amazeballs! At the same time I was going through that nasty divorce and trying to finish graduate school so that I could support my cookie habit and myself. I made the big step to move to a new apartment. It was the first time I had lived in my own apartment ever! (I was 19 when I got pregnant and married…don’t judge.) My daughter had moved out to pursue life and my son was getting ready to leave for college. A deep sadness for what I thought could have been lingered and I did what I always do, buried it. My body begged me to pay attention. I was in the throes of what I thought was IBS. I couldn’t eat anything and I felt like crap constantly. (I didn’t write s*$t because my parents could be reading this blog). Standing in the courthouse, being demolished by my narcissist of an ex, I felt utterly defeated and not able to fight any longer. My stomach was so turbulent it was singing. I threw up most of the day and (gory detail alert) lost a lot of weight via the other end too. At the same time, I was lucky enough to find a temporary job with my new degree but worried that I might never be able to support myself, and pay off my new and massive student loan. Not to mention the necessary work of healing wounds from decades of emotional abuse. The cacao butter cookies saved me. I mean it. I truly mean it. I stored plastic cartoons of them in the freezer and munched on them whenever I felt absolute despair, which was quite often. The process of making them felt so nurturing. The ingredients were healthier and the side effects of eating them less irritating, but still my health issues lingered. Maybe my ex husband had finally killed me…literally.

Grain Free, Nut Free, Dairy Free Chocolate Chip Cookies!

These cookies are so free that I bet you are wondering what is actually in them. Getting to these cookies was my rock bottom. Two years after my divorce, I was finally diagnosed with Multiple Sclerosis. (Awkward silence…) I am sure that my difficult marriage and divorce slowly wore me down and my body finally succumbed to family genetics of autoimmune diseases. One doctor looking excited about the discovery told me I won the gold star in my family. According to him, MS was the center of the Venn diagram for autoimmune diseases. (Yay! I guess I had finally won something!?) To be completely honest, this was my dark night of the soul. I felt that I had made it out of hell only to wither and die from this awful disease. My children were off living their lives and I was alone. Once again, cookies saved me from what on a few occasions was far too close to giving up and leaving this world. I was tired…just tired. I didn’t think I had anything left in me to fight, so I chose to surrender. This was my moment of salvation. I had been moving through life with my fists clenched constantly fighting and protecting those that I loved. By choosing to surrender to whatever curve ball life wanted to throw at me, I was slowly unclenching two decades of tight fists and choosing life. After all, I could not keep fighting my body. The very idea that we are to fight disease sounds like an inner battle against ourselves. I decided to love myself…for all that I am and all that I am not. I learned to bake for the love of it and not so manically. I embraced the new ingredients that I could use; coconut flour, sunflower seed butter, coconut sugar and dairy free chocolate chips. I let go of the idea of a limited diet and instead celebrated all of the nourishing ingredients I got to use everyday. I still make batches of cookies and freeze them, but do it to have nourishing food around rather than hiding the results of a cookie monster binge. I tentatively have begun to step back into the world as a new person.

Today, the raw truth is; I have MS, I have not dated in five years, I am middle age and living alone. That being said, I am okay with it. I have reinvented my life and can humbly support myself. I thank cookies for helping me survive and even thrive during the darkest period of my life. Some people crochet, some buy a fancy car, some sell everything and go on a vision quest…. I, as it turns out, bake. The evolution of the cookie in my house is a visual history of where I came from and where I have finally arrived. It is as much a story about me as it is about my beloved cookies. I have been thinking about what it means to take the next step. My daughter has even nudged me to test the waters of online dating. In my profile I will be sure to say, “Those who do not like cookies need not apply.”