i love love; i fear fear

love is ripe now-- it always seems to be this time of year- and yet its always so new and fresh and bitter sour and yummy all at once..

well-

yes, for those of you who have been following, i did turn thirty-ONE a couple of weeks ago and now it seems like suddenley im older in a sort of way that is both releaving and teriffying all at once..

i talked to my theripist today for along time,

but the thing that has stuck with me after nearly two and 1/2 hours, is my relationship to myself and, well my higher self and god..

*

it's funny to say that and write it, but nothing but honest and real to feal it..

(let me speak truth and my story through my expression of my life- please. LET ME- and i say this now to all of the absolutel ones who will never read this and also speak to the absolutely true and real ones who so ever read this that LIFE IS CRAZY and yes,

bizarre and yes, \

we are all the same and yes............................ and blah blah blah,,,,)

looking back (as most do on their birthday,) , i see so many pure and misread intentions and it's so frustrating..and inspiring to try harder
i want to be seen

i want to be loved

i want to be successful

i want to use the energy of the universe

i want to give

i want to radiate

i love so well, i just want to enjoy that--no matter what.

i want balance

i want music

i want to dance

hello

again.

remember me?

i am you..

i am here, where are you

i wrote something great a minute ago-- its gone now...
love the internet..and hate it too.. or at least my expectation of it being easy..
i am here..
where are you..
this is my constant conversation with myself..
i am here..
31 now.
in love now.
scared of doing anything that could take it away.
single mom now.
getting to know myself
making my dreams come true
waking up more and more each day
to the realism
of
THIS.

happy birthday raina..
happy birthday grandma
happybirthday ket, moses, and
ME..

i love you like this..

we closed the restaurant
on february first, and i have risen everyday since very much aware of the many t hings i want and need to tend to before we re-open. some of the things are very purposeful and mundane; new passport, oil change, clean out the fridge, rennovate and paint kismet.. then there are the things i need to to because if i dont i'll feel like a looser, like write to my grandmother, and talk to my parents... then there is this other list of things--like BE PRESENT WITH RAINA, and MEET THE DISHWASHER'S FAMILY, and MAKE PEACE WITH DAMIAN....
so far i've attempted everything on the list..
spent last friday wiyth raina, sent the kids with her parents, fantasized about her birthday party, wobserved her hair growth, cooked and amazing meal, and talked until 2 in the morning.. talked about life and living through our chakras, and about pleasure and pain and giving eachother little bits of insight into old stories and saying the things we may have left out before...
more soon...

a new day

like the millions of children who yearn for and dream about christmas, I have anticipated this day with wonder and excitement...

Today we closed kismet at our usual time, but with unusual joy..it was busy today, and again we were short staffed, but instead of the monotonous chores of dishes, vacuming, and prep-work, alanna, the dishwasher, and I emptied out the fridges, made 9 (very large) doggy-bags, and turned off the fridges... With the sign on the door, and the till in my case, we closed up shop for the next 29 days (thank-you leap year)..

Even though we already celebrated our first year (only a month ago), and new year's has come and gone, I feel like it's only now that i am perched on the eve of a new year- and instead of one blissful anxiety-ridden night, I get 29 days and nights full of opportunity to manifest my visions for the next year...

what do i see?
first off--organization.. no more running through the streets trying to be 2 places at once..

i'm going to rest more and not feel guilty about it..

accept my success and live in it, rather than feel like i'm starving while stuffing my face with the occasional feast..

work hard and take care of business, while also making more time to travel to see my family, make art, and nourish myself with joyful time with my friends and children..

be prosperious, by settling old debts (owed and owed to me), letting go of the tug-of war rope that pulls but does not give..

you see; i've made this very ambitious to-do list (i'm even thinking of schedualing the whole month so I wont leave anything out), and for the last month, i have been using it as my mantra so that i can stay focussed and get all of this done- I can only imagine what that sounds like- i mean, i work really hard; then I have a month off and I'm going to plan all sorts of deep deep work so that i wont feel guilty if I just lay in bed and read all month?!! but honestly-- looking ahead a little bit, i would have reason to feel guilty-- this last year has been so incredibley intense that many parts of MY LIFE (outside of kismet) have been on hold.. I am thankful for the restaurant and the daily miracles that happen there (almost like splitting loaves for the many), and I owe my current clarity to the constant work that i do there, but it also takes up so much of my time-and will again as soon as we re-open.. so, for the next 29 days....it's all about me......

SO.................

here comes february-the coldest month-the least predictible month-

the month of mardigras and murder -the month of love and dissapointment

&

the first month in 2 years that is entirely mine...

opening up

dreamt last night that it was spring.. it was febuary and there was snow still, but there were flowers and we were all so excited..
slept last night at the dishwasher's house- warm and cozy, quiet and still- walked out into the snow to start my car, then back in to floss, brush, and groom. usually i begin the day with an obnoxious sort of haste that usually involves forgetting, dropping, or breaking something- and usually i'm frustrated that i'm still late no matter what i do- this morning i sat on the toilet for a while clipping my nails, flossing my teeth with great detail, and even taking a moment to just sit and let myself wake up a bit. I got into my car- all warmed up and defrosted, and drove out of the driveway feeling present and thankful to be awake up with the sun coming up on a country road in the silence of a vermont winter morning. Suddenly, and with the same amount of intensity that is usually felt by my anxiety of being late, i was filled with thoughts of my friend stefi jo. It was like in that moment i was truly present with her for the first time in...years????
as i write this, i feel like im gazing back to this morning with a sort of love-struck look on my face- like saying, "awe, that sounds so nice..." because, honestly, the rest of this day has been hard and challenging in ways that are hard to describe... I felt worried about the food at the restaurant. I cooked with a sort of insecurity that i havent had in a while- everywhere i looked, i just saw more things that needed to be done- and felt like every task i attempted only unfolded three more tasks needing to be sorted out. Fela has two different shoes at school-Moses had a hard day at school- taxes are due tomorrow- the oven needed a #50 part but had to be delivered by a service man who charged $200 for the delivery- the tamari spilt all over the fridge- we ran out of coffee- and the dishwasher said something that triggered some old, well protected wound i had and i went spiraling into a little hurricane of fear, resentment, and doubt... i opened a bag of chips to snack on, and spilt them on the ground, went to put them in the garbage and the garbage was overflowing- infact every corner of my home is overflowing- the laundry needs to be folded, the sink is full of dishes, the floor is muddy- AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

want to run
want to run and forget even trying to get a handle on anything-
i feel like poo
i feel ineffective
i feel difficult
am i making things worse?
blah blah blah..
wish i were more..

but now, this too has passed, and i'm writing (listening to the dishwasher sing in the kitchen--she's so talented), looking back at that part of my day with furrowed brows and thinking-"ahh, yes, that again.. I'll do better tomorrow". and now... now i am here again.
when the dishwasher made the plan for the evening (cook dinner, have a beer, clean the house) i asked, "what should I do?" she told me to go write in my blog... i didn't even really feel like i needed or wanted to, and somehow it's been the exact thing that has brought me into this moment.
I am working so hard to be my best- working so hard to try to figure out all of the pieces, and untangle the messes that i am hung up on- Working so hard to be honest and to speak my truth and to be brave and unselfish, and to take responsibility for my own mistakes. like toning and working young muscles, or doing yoga, i am practicing new ways of patience. I watch myself poach eggs and spread butter repetitively, and feel like i'm witnessing a miracle.. i've never been very good at repetition before.. repetition or predictability- and then, here i am, day after day, doing the same motions, yearning to learn the cycle of my restaurant, the habits of my customers, the secret to perfect cookies, broth, or crepe batter, slowly evolving with each repetition. and all the while i'm just here, doing nothing really very huge or special (the foods good, the colors are nice, but it is still just breakfast), but at the same time i'm slowly, gently, quietly, growing. hidden down here- barre street is out of the way i guess- in this little room with three or four other women, i am each day waking up, and beginning again..

so it's not spring today--and i want it so bad-
but i can wait, because it's coming soon-- i know this for sure-
and i didnt solve any big mysteries or get much insight into how all this is going to turn out,
but did nothing bad either..
no regrets today.
and i did look closely at my fear and walked right into it and right out the other side. and now dinner is ready, and with love and adoration, the dishwasher has cooked me a yummy dinner, and now its ready..
now.

sometimes things are eerie..
i havent been able to hear out of my right ear since october..
i stopped eating dairy for a month and have gone to the doctor, tried a few antibiotics, tried the hot onion, garlic and mullen oil, olive and garlic oil, and tried hot and cold compresses, .. ive dug through my deeper thoughts and emotions trying to discover the truths ive not been wanting to "hear"-and ive listened intently and searched patiently for the hidden meanings of each conversation-ive heard my own voice trapped inside my head and gotten used to it-- like being near sighted, having narrow hearing has it's benefits--
sure, i can put glasses on when i want to drive- and i can focus on my hands when i dont want to be distracted by the goings on twenty feet away. I appreciate things close at hand- and am distracted by things in the distance-
my new mantra, perhaps?

i

appreciate

things close at hand

and

am distracted

by

things

in the distance.

this moment-

the best indeed.... and yet impossible to enjoy while holding thoughts of the present or the past..

my voice- so valid and real-

worth hearing..

i am am worth hearing...

there's a part of me that sees this medical dilemma (it is a bit worrisome that i cant hear out of my right ear) as a gift- i can hear myself and also feel trapped within me. Which are both good things- there was a long while that i didnt really listen to myself- and to feel trapped is the exact sensation i had stopped myself from feeling before- i held myself back from feeling alot of things--except anxiety- (anxiety always finds me when i'm most vulnerable..) i am seeing now that feeling trapped is exactly what gives me anxiety... and if i'm not letting myself feel the sensations of truly knowing the difference between living a free life and living as a prisoner- how how will i ever really be free? i have to feel these things out...out of the darkness.. out of fear.... out of poverty.... out of insecurity.... out of weaknesses.... out of disease.... out of exhaustion.... have to feel my way into the light, loving, rich, strong, healthy, rested, state of being myself.

going home

staring at the the blank screen..
keep erasing what ive written in hopes that the next line will come out more clearly..
after doing my thing this morning (my thing comprised of running to meet the produce delivery van at kismet, cleaning, sorting toys, and showering) i got an idea that i wanted to have an adventure... i wanted to go to my home town- it is only 20 miles or so from where i live now, but 45 minutes totally out of the way and since none of my family live there now, it is like a living photo album of other times in my life, an album i rarely reach for, but am aware of..
I got fela into the car, asked the dishwasher to come along, and drove the roads with a sort of knowing i rarely have.. my family moved a lot, we only lived in vermont for 8 years before moving to mississippi when i was 13 (on my birthday actually..), but i did return here when i was 2 years clean and returning from new zealand. I have been here as a child, but also as myself- completely unattached to anywhere or anyone else.. Ive seen these roads from my bus window as a school kid, as an adolescent with my parents on the way to softball practice, and also with myself as a 20 year old single woman looking for home and god and the meaning of life... Ive driven these roads pregnant, and with a screaming infant too. Ive driven these roads with plans to build a house, lumber, concrete, and screws. Ive driven these roads with plans to metamorphoses, to start again, to begin a new... Ive driven these roads with only a few though.. and today i drive them with a different purpose (undefinable but part of a sincere and relevant process)-aware that it will be a while before i come here again.
We turn onto my road..
there is a lot of snow that hasnt been plowed, and im scared of going into a ditch... I want to tell the dishwasher everything- about the Brooke that you cant see but that lays just on the other side of the road, want to get her to see what i see- my sister and i sledding down these hills- us walking around those ponds looking for mint and salamanders-
then i go further.. I hadnt planned on going to my house (it's on a dead end and i didnt want to be too obvious, the "new" tenants have been very kind to me in the past, but i dont want to be annoying), but then i saw that there were no tire tracks in the snow in their driveway. I pointed the car in the direction of the house and see that 1/2 of it was nearly burnt down..
there had been a fire..
i pause, then i drove the rest of the driveway and tried to point out all of my sacred special places to the dishwasher who was listening and looking with sincere and actual interest. It was weird.. there was a part of me that was needing to see that no one was there, that the house was empty and uninhabited at the moment.. I needed to go there, and feel free to go there- and as long as no one is there, i can accept whatever changes have happened over time, but it is still MY HOUSE..
i am writing all of this wishing that i could tell you more than what actually was happening on the outside.. i want to tell you the inside stuff-- make all the connections for you/me. It's so hard though...
The dishwasher's birthday is the day after tomorrow.. i promised myself as a gift.. not in the sexual sense- but in the ultimate HERE sense- like--for your birthday i will pay respect to your birth and GIVE YOU ME... so....who is me?
look!
there i am in the hills of east corinth- still walking out to the pond for a day in the water- still lifting the picture of my dad to the sky- still marveling over the different colors of the apples in the orchard- still resting and reading beneath that pine tree-
oh- and here i am
searching for my home
looking for a place that is my own
driving these roads looking for answers
scared of getting stuck
listening to and wanting your stories
aware of time
lost
and
found.
oh! and here I am..
trying to define it..
trying to encapsulate it in words.
and here
over here
i am- feeling my heart beating so fast as i turn my car and look at this house that once was mine and then was gone and now is empty- my heart is happy that it is mine again in this moment... my heart says that maybe in the spring i'll bring you back here and we'll walk these hills and i can be here again..because when i am here-then it is all real again-----i am real again---

it's a new year, but it's still winter..

been using this time to watch myself real quietly.. i see my growth because it feels so slow now- like the deep deep roots of trees and the hybernating creatures.. i have slowed wayyyyy down.. I sleep 9 hours a night these days.. i read and write more.. i take long hot showers and think about the water-where it comes from, where it's going.. I look at mybody cautiously now- feel like i only get to see it in glimpses these days because i have to where so many layers.. and when i look at myself, i look deeply- i look with wonder..
weird hunger today- craving dairy and cheese and whipped cread, even though my body is full of mucus and phlegm- tried to eat tofu and winter squash but felt like i needed coffee afterwords to wake and revive what was left of myself after digesting that small meal..
took a nap today- wanted to sleep more...
bought a steak but feeling so un-inthused..
i have so much work to do..it scares me to think of how i could just let time go by and nothing... what will i do about my sons?> each one represents this separate project that needs tending too..and my business, and my book?
and what about me?? waiting for someone to come in and take care of it all for me- feed me something hearty and big and let me go to sleep for two months for me to wake and find it all taken care of--the bills payed, the children healthy and nearby, the trees green, the birds nesting again....

chewing chorizo

i enjoy a day that has at least one moment for simple food with clear flavors. hot gingery miso with wilted spinach, super rare thin sliced steak, brown rice, and a pinch of cayenne. Besides that chorizo i chewed on in the car on my way to get moses, it's all i had yesterday.. but it was all i needed- i went to bed thinking of that soup- and today too. went to bed thinking about alot of things actually-
like how big this time feels-about this new year coming- like this year that has passed.. i came into this year absolutely exhausted and was asleep on a concrete floor as friends around me counted down.. i feel like i have been dreaming all year, actually- trying so hard to manage everything while still realizing and trrying to meet my own needs.. there have been times this year when i thought i would go crazy with exhaustion- pushing myself to appreciate the littlest moments of joy that would suprise me and trying to flow through and work with the many moments that scared me. I am a single mother now.. i turned thirty this year..one of my best friends was diagnosed with brain cancer this year..i fell in love this year. i opened a business this year. i've worked nearly 3000 hours this year and served over 8000 meals.. i became an author this year...moved into my own apartment (my second ever..), and had $10,000 stolen this year.
wonder what this next year will have instore for me.. i want a home of my own- with a door on my bedroom- i want to be sourrounded by my success and celebrate the successess of my hard working and talented friends. i want music and good food, candles, and warmth. i want honesty and connection, peace and inspiration, and prosperity like good health and a full bank account. I want to work hard, and be met by others. I want time to slow down just a little bit so i can grab a moment to write more, see my friends more, and cook more, make love more, and travel to see my parents, sister, distant friends, and my grandmother more..

french onion soup

There are only a few things that i feel really good at. Cooking is one of them (and moving-i've done that alot), and sometimes it feels like the only thing i know how to do. I'm most comfortable working with food- and though i love driving, talking, and writing, it has been noted that these are not my most respected talents. I get to know people by what they love to eat- i mark moments with memories of meals- like raina the first time i ever made papooses in her little kitchen in burlington (she was so excited and so full of praise and enjoyment and she ate with concentrated pleasure), and my sister that time out on the hill that i forced her to eat a mock "chicken patty" and watched her take little bites while hiding her displeasure. (we argued the day by the camp fire, and i can remember everything about that moment, -even the mock patty, unfortunately). Today, while preparing huevos rancheros to share with the dishwasher, I realized that there are few meals that i've cooked purely for my own pleasure. Sure, I have my favorites- rare steak sliced really thin with salad and raw blue cheese; dumpling soup with miso, ginger and hot sesame oil; avocado salad with rare seared tuna; and french onion soup. I've thought before about it; when i am cooking for someone else, it's like reaching out to them- like saying "here, this is for you" and at the same time saying "thank you for this opportunity to connect with you"- what i get out of it is often abstract- i love working with food, i love being inspires, i love the chemistry of it all. Then there are times i have to cook for myself. I get hungry too- and when I cook for myself, I do so with a different kind of intimacy. It's like everything else gets kind of quiet, rather than tuning into what I know about food, or about the person I am cooking for, I turn inwards, and watch myself cook with a softness and ease that I have witnessed before. I know how to make soup, how to chop onions, how to smash garlic, i know how much garlic i like, i know how to tell how strong it is by how much oil is on the knife when i smash it, i know how much i like to eat, how much i can put on my plate and not ruin my taste for food completely. And I know what I like. I remember begging my mother to make eggplant parmigiana- it was my favorite, and I've always loved a juicy steak with salt and pepper (i did miss it during those vegan years though), and warm chocolate chip cookies (I LOVE THOSE!). During all of my different diet changes, I would always go through my favorite dishes first and try to re-create it with whatever limitations i was dealing with. Gluten free, vegan, whatever.. And I would do this FOR ME... French onion soup.. I have about 10 favorite versions of this one. When I was pregnant with fela I yearned for it and made my "quick version" often. Consisting of shitake mushroom broth, dark miso, and lots of balsamic caramelized onions, I would eat bowl fulls with home-made gluten free croutons topped with chevre. When I had more time I would prepare beef broth, caramelized red and white and gold onions, and bake individual bowls of the soup in the oven with toasted french spelt bread and an assortment of spicy red pepper sheep cheese, and goat's brie. I would bring these bowls to the oven and feel so excited and nurtured by just the aromas- then look at my partner and older child and see their ambivalent faces.. I dared not ask why, and let myself enjoy bowl after bowl...Finally, after years of this, damian admitted he didn't actually like french onion soup, and I subconsciously stopped making it all together...
Then we split up. I've done all this "work" to "move on" and try to put my life back together in some sort of way that feels something like a reflection of myself.. I began letting myself enjoy my own space, taking responsibility for the lack of contents in my fridge (for a cook, it is shockingly bare), and make my own schedule. Often, i dont even eat dinner- and it's liberating to not HAVE to cook for someone who depends on me to cook so much.. I allow myself simple meals, and often cook dishes that I want.
The first time I made french onion soup in my new apartment, I was thinking of my friend raina, who was in her 4th week of radiation. I used an organic beef bone and made a three day slow stock with coffee, red wine, beer, garlic, and salt from the Sahara desert. I wanted to make the stock really deep and dark, and full of marrow. I added several tablespoons of butter, and a sprig of thyme, and 4 whole onions as well as sever big cupfuls of caramelized onions. I went to burlington to see her, and left a jarful in her fridge, but could tell by the look on her face that she was a little overwhelmed (i brought mellow and comforting chicken broth the next week instead).. When I returned home I was upset and emotional about my having to leave her. i hadn't showered in 2 days, was still wearing my work clothes., and was exhausted. I let myself into my apartment and was greeted by the aromatic smells wafting out of the crockpot in my kitchen. I had left the soup on by accident in the crockpot, and my 3 day broth had turned into 4 day broth- Turned the broiler on, ladled some soup into a bowl, and when the dishwasher arrived, we sat to 2 bowls full of the best french onion soup ever topped with toasted french bread, blue cheese, and sharp vermont cheddar. I was enjoying the soup so much I just nodded when the dishwasher gave praises. Then she got another bowl.
-it was so unexpected. I mean, I know that we're all always looking for things like this, little signs that we are exactly where we are supposed to be, as if faith alone isnt enough, but when we get the signs it's so tempting to rejoice over them- forgetting all the other times we've been let down or have gone astray.... No one has ever loved french onion soup the way i do except my mother.. i dont even try to make it for friends anymore...except the dishwasher. I love that she loves it, it's so good- i love making the stock and watching the marrow dissolve out of the bone, i love tasting the stock every now and again and noting how the flavor changes, i love experimenting with different cheeses on top..tonight i make it again, hoping it will heal words spoken earlier, or my wordless exit- or the 12 hours she will work today singing another woman's vision. I want it to nurture us both, and know it will, and in the morning i will go my way and she will go hers.. i'm putting alot of faith into this soup right now- i want it for me, and i need it for me- and hopefully she'll sip it and taste that to- and maybe keep abit for herself. We all just want to be loved-dont we?
my horoscope says that i have to do work in the romantic loving department.. i didnt read relationships for dummies, but would the author approve of my french onion soup approach, because there are really only a few things i am really good at.