little victories.

My bare feet gently sink into cool mud, and I close my eyes to connect. The sun warms my naked extremities as the grass tickles my soles. “Grounding,” they call this. Let the earth absorb your stress. “Earth,” I say, as I smile to myself, “you can take it all, every last drop!” and let out a deep, heavy sigh. 

The pressure on my chest has been growing these past few days. Change is brewing and staying on top of my sh*t, is exhausting. I take it moment by moment. To get through the days, I make lists of things that need to be accomplished, and I check them off. This provides a certain amount of satisfaction, and keeps impending doom at bay. 

During this time, to keep myself from switching into robot mode, I’ve incorporated the joyous struggle of self-care. A 30 minute yoga video in the morning, going for a walk, cuddling with my kitty, or taking a bath with a beverage in a fancy glass… These little acts of affection and appreciation towards myself help me remember why I am doing this. They bring love back into my life. And, it is the love in these little victories, help me stay present, refocus and persevere.

head vs heart

I find it easy to get caught up in the twists and turns of thoughts going every which way. Lately, I have been working on decision making. For as long as I can remember, I have been indifferent to most decisions, either I didn't trust myself to make a good decision, I felt life would unfold in an unpredictable manner, or I just honestly did not know what to choose.

Not too long ago, a big decision stumbled into my lap. The ultimate decision (insert dramatic music here). And with as much thinking as I am capable of, I starting spinning circles. Upon the recommendation of my wonderful mother, I went to speak to a trusted friend. After that conversation took place, I was transformed by the space for thoughtful and reflective questions.  One of the questions asked was,

"if you could tell yourself what to do right now, what would it be?"

My response took me by surprise, "I don't want someone to tell me 'it will be okay, you will make the right decision.' What I need to hear right now is, 'I believe in you, and I believe in whichever decision you make.'"

Belief goes deeper than making right and wrong decisions. It teaches trust in oneself. Learning this valuable lesson is beginning to transform my relationship with myself and others. Without trust in yourself and your decisions, important parts of yourself that are meant to work together begin to separate. When this separation occurs, the chaos begins. The heart and the head begin raging war against one another. The transformation from enemy to ally takes time, vulnerability and kindness.

My recommendation? Take two minutes with yourself today. Take a few breaths, listen the birds chirping or notice warmth of the sun. Let your head and heart greet one another with a gentle smile.

long story short

"Walk to the beach," I tell myself. A day of sitting at the computer does this to me. It puts my brain into kind of a zombie state, then lights a fire up under my ass. This usually sends me walking out through the trees or sandy beaches.

Out I go, heading in the direction of sandy beaches. Along the way my foot sinks deep into mud gunk that reminds me of clay quicksand. Shrug it off. The lake resembles a mirror as it reflects the rich afternoon colours of the mountains and sky. After awhile I get tired of my steps sinking into the rocky, overly mushy sand. I turn around. So pretty, I sigh.

Walking back, I thought about the first time I came to Sorrento, and this beach. Instead of sinking into mushy sand, I was tromping through deep snow. It was March of 2014, for an interview. At that time, I'd felt like a chronic failure in terms of getting my life on track. Wandering around for years only partially fulfilled; full of nagging curiosities and questions was getting old. The interview weekend was a whirlwind of confusion, and comfort. Getting back into the kitchen felt like riding a bike after years of not. The rusty wheels began turning; parts that hadn't been used in years came alive.

Long story short. A year ago almost to the day, I sat in the same lifeguard chair as I did last night. Dusk was setting in as the bright moon rose. The quiet evening was perfect for my questioning of ambiguity, purpose and impermanence. I asked questions out loud and settled into the stillness of natures response. Surprisingly, I came to a compromise, or rather an understanding that questions don't always have, need, or receive answers. I love them anyway, and can live with that.

poached eggs and pie

My morning started decent, considering it began at 5 am. The regularly scheduled breakfast cook had a day off, and I was taking her place. An added bonus of working the morning shift meant that after work, I had time to learn how to make Melissa Green's famous GF strawberry rhubarb pie. I was pretty stoked!

The menu for breakfast was scrambled eggs, sausages, and scones (celebration of alliteration!). Piece of cake, or so I thought! After putting the scones and sausages in the oven, I was ready to begin scrambling eggs. My brain was still a little groggy, so I was appreciative of the ease and simplicity of the meal.

Wandering into the refrigerator to grab the eggs, my heart dropped; a flat of 30 eggs was missing. This was not the time to be paralyzed by panic. I searched the cooler high and low, no eggs. I muscled the freezer door open, hoping someone accidentally misplaced the eggs (hehe, thinking about it now, turning frozen eggs into scrambled would have been quite the task). What do I do? Scrambling eggs required twice as many eggs as I had sitting in front of me.

I needed to make a decision quick: poach eggs or flip pancakes?

Never having eaten, let alone made a poached egg, I was intimidated by them. Perfect time to learn; plus if I made poached eggs I would not have to clean the grill. Bonus. A "how to" Google search alleviated a bit of anxiety. Then, to my relief, Melissa Green, who could live off of poached eggs, walked through the door. Impeccable timing. Breakfast went off without a hitch. I ate my first poached egg, AND I enjoyed it!

Even though the morning took an unexpected turn, baking pies was the salvation. My day ended with a piece of the best pie I have ever tasted. The crust was delicious and flakey. The vanilla ice cream was the perfect compliment as it slowly melted over the warm pie filling.

I even learned a valuable lesson; if using fruit that has been frozen, do not take the pie out early, let it sit for 45 minutes and expect it to be done. It will not be done. You will have to put the pie back in the oven. You will have to wait an extra long time for pie. I must have used up my patience durning breakfast.

good morning beautiful.

The birds are chirping. Jinx is frolicking. I am enjoying a big bowl of mango a la Evita and with a delicious cup of coffee. Good morning sunshine!

Some say it is a sin to taint coffee with milk and sugar. Which, yes, it does alter the delightful flavor. However, in my book, there are those mornings that call for a straight cuppa joe. And then, other mornings call for the lavish addition raw honey and a dollop of coconut cream. These mornings make me feel like a queen. It is like waking up to someone saying, "Good morning sunshine. Look how beautiful the world is. I painted it for you."

After my parents left on Saturday evening, this small trailer felt large and empty. The two days they spent here, we explored some neat places around the Shuswap. Everything was enamoring; the grass-fed gouda cheese farm, an organic Irish brewery, the rushing waterfalls.

Breakfast with them was my favorite. Farm fresh eggs cooked atop sautéed onions, flopped on a slice of fresh garden tomato. Homemade mango, ginger kombucha. Fresh ground coffee. There was no hurry, just appreciation and satisfaction. It was marvelous.

All things do change at some point. This morning it was obvious, as my wake-up consisted of Jinx readjusting herself in my arms. The morning started out warm and relaxing. When I woke up I knew it would be a queen coffee sorta day. I put on the hot water, took care of some morning business, then stepped outside and gave the world a salutation and cheers.