Coconut Crusted French Toast

The waves of the sea

help me get back to me.

                                          -Unknown

 

This is usually a particularly hard time of the year for me. Christmas is over as well as the celebration for the New Year. My "resolutions" are beginning to fade and I am starting to feel like a failure. It is bitter cold and the thought of spring feels like a fantasy at the moment.

 

But, this year is different.

 

With all of the little changes that I have been making and my good friend, the "happy light", I might ACTUALLY make it through this winter in one piece! I have a couple of little trips planned and our big family vacation for the year is mostly paid for, I'm just waiting to actually make the purchase.

 

When winters are hard though, I have found that if I trick my mind into believing that I am somewhere tropical I can usually take off the top layer of sadness, even if it is only for a couple of moments. This usually involves listening to my Israel Kamakawiwo’ole station on Pandora and making something yummy to eat that reminds me of the islands. 

 

Nothing says Aloha to me in a more beautiful way than Coconut Crusted French Toast with Coconut Syrup. The warm toasted coconut is nestled nicely in a bed of thick sliced French bread that has been dredged through a mixture of eggs and coconut milk which enhances the flavor and gives a lighter feel to the whole meal.  

 

So turn up the music, warm up your griddle and blast the furnace. We are going to make it through this winter, one delicious bite at a time!

 

 

Coconut Crusted French Toast

 

1 loaf French bread cut into 1 inch slices

6 eggs lightly beaten

1/2 of a 13.5 can of coconut milk

1 tsp coconut extract

2 1/2-3 C coconut flakes

 

Warm griddle to medium heat and prepare with cooking spray or melted butter.

 

Mix eggs, coconut milk and coconut extract until well combined.

 

Dredge sliced French bread through egg mixture and then through coconut flakes.

 

Place on griddle and cook, flipping several times to ensure that it cooks evenly, until egg coating is cooked through and coconut begins to toast. 

 

Coconut Syrup

 

1 stick butter
1 C sugar
1/2 C milk 

1 tsp baking soda
1 tsp coconut extract

Combine first 3 ingredients in a medium sauce pan. (The syrup will more than double in size when you add the baking soda, so a medium sauce pan is necessary.)

Bring just to a boil over medium heat.

Remove from heat and whisk in remaining ingredients until syrup is light and fluffy.   



Why a "cry day" is actually a GOOD idea...

The sorrow which has no vent in tears

may make other organs weep. 

                                                                 -Henry Maudsley 

I remember the day that I started to hate crying. I had been warned by another co-worker that I was being blamed for a "call gone bad". But instead of handling the matter privately, giving me the opportunity to defend myself and let the truth be known, the owner of the company decided that he wanted to make an example out of me because I had been talking to my husband on the other line when things went wrong. He did this by playing the call to my fellow dispatchers and explaining that I was the reason that things had gone terribly, horribly wrong. What he failed to examine was the long standing feud between dispatch and the paramedics which created an environment where neither felt they could properly do their job. Without the feud the paramedics would have repeated the address on their pagers to my partner, something that was expected of the lowly EMT's but not of the paramedics, and they would have gone to the correct Instacare, picked up the RIGHT patient and none of this would have ever happened. Instead my partner simply told them to go to the Instacare, assuming that they had the address on their pagers, and gave them the details of the patient that they were supposed to transport. Long story short they went to the wrong Instacare and because I "took the call" I was being blamed, even though I had entered the correct address and had dispatched the correct paramedic team.

 

As I walked into the meeting I could feel everyones eyes on me. Apparently the word had gotten out that I was the topic of conversation for the day. I had planned what I was going to say, I knew that the truth of the matter needed to be exposed for what it was. I didn't deserve to be the scape goat.

 

But as the call started, all courage, and anger and defiance drained out of my body and all I was left with were tears. I told them to stop the tape, laid down my badge and left the room.

 

The owner followed after me. Again, all I could do was cry. I don't remember our conversation, but I remember feeling how weak and insignificant I was. I couldn't make a single coherent sentence to help in my defense.  I wanted to roar like a lion, but I was running away, scared like a lamb. My tail between my legs, defeated.

 

Crying was now a sign of weakness, it was there to let those around me know that I was an easy target.

 

I have always been sensitive. I cried when a little boy told me that I had chubby legs on my first day of Kindergarten. I cried when my brother was being picked on for being nice to "less popular" kids. I cried when the chimpanzees in the movie "Project-X" were exposed to radiation and died. I cried when I was happy and I cried when I was sad.  

 

I had always just let it all hang out.

 

But now, crying was dirty. Instead of cleaning out built up emotions, I pushed them down and held them in.

 

I still cried, occasionally, but never when I was weak or defeated.

 

Years later I was a NICU nurse. I cried at every delivery I ever attended. My favorite deliveries were those where I could wrap up a healthy baby and hand it over to an excited but scared mom. When the baby needed some more attention from the NICU team the tears were short lived and I quickly got to work doing the things that the baby needed to survive. I could justify these tears, because they were happy tears, but they did become a bit of an inconvenience. Soon I was pushing down the happy tears. 

 

When I first started to connect the dots surrounding my depression anything that even remotely resembled sadness was pushed down to the deepest, darkest parts of my soul. I was on survival mode. If anything stirred up that pot of tears I removed myself from the situation and pushed the sadness down further. Tears were now associated with this dark place in me that stole my zest for life, that left me failing as a wife and mother. If they weren't a part of the equation I felt just a little bit better.

 

What I had forgotten is that those tears are there for a reason. It's as if they hold that emotion and release it into the world. An emotion that is pushed down and held in has a way of festering inside of you, making you uneasy and brittle. 

 

Several months ago I heard a conversation on the radio where the host was talking about her "cry days". The co-host thought she was nuts, he was a guy btw, and asked anyone else out there to call in if they too had "cry days". The reaction was AMAZING and something that I was so grateful to be a witness to. There were other sensitive souls out there, like me, who needed that release of emotions and if they weren't getting it from their daily lives, they would induce that release in the privacy of their own homes. 

 

I had never tried a "cry day" before but thought it might not hurt. I was still a little scared that crying would make me spiral even deeper into a pit of despair, but at the moment I was pretty down and was hoping for a little glimmer of hope.

 

So, I pulled out the iPad and started searching for anything that would help me with some happy tears. I found videos of soldiers reuniting with their unsuspecting families, sappy proposals and videos of people walking for the first time following horrible accidents. It was kind of funny in the beginning. I was acting like I was crying, but nothing was coming out. Maybe my pipes were clogged from all of the years of non-use. By about ten minutes in it happened. I was sobbing like a baby. Not a cute baby mind you. I was crying like a booger filled gorilla making horrible gasping sounds following each new wave of tears. It was really ugly folks, but it was also so incredibly beautiful.

 

I was allowing myself to feel again. The whole time I was afraid of the repercussions of these emotions, but I was also so relieved that the tiniest bit of these emotions were now being released out into the world instead of being bottled up inside of me.

 

Guess what happened next?

Nothing.

I didn't feel weak or insignificant or that I had failed. If anything I felt like I was a little bit more whole. That by letting go of my emotions something else could now take it's place. Something that was light and airy instead of dark and heavy.           

I haven't looked to see if there is any "scientific" backing for my findings, but I do know that it helps me feel better. So I will continue to have my "cry days" and will slowly find my way back to happy.

and so I saw a shrink....

Don't believe everything you think.

                                

In the beginning it made sense to believe my thoughts. My thoughts, I argued, were me and why would I lie to myself. Out of the billions of people in the world, the one person I should be able to trust is me.

 

In the beginning my thoughts were there to cheer me on when I didn't have the confidence to stand in front of my class to give an oral report. My thoughts were there to help me find my loveable parts. They were there to support my intuition as a grew into motherhood.

 

But slowly, those words of support and praise melted into a thick sticky pot of doubt and belittlement. I knew that I shouldn't trust the thoughts that contained words like "always" and "never", I could quickly see through the lies of these statements. I knew that I wasn't "always a failure" or that I "never got anything right", but when those voices started personalizing their insults they were much easier to accept. 

 

When I started to compare my life and my house and my family to those around me, it was easy to think that they all lived in a fairytale, especially with the advent of social media. People would post pictures of their perfect family in their perfect house or on their perfect vacations. I didn't just envy the things they had, I started to think that they knew the recipe for the magic potion that kept everything in order. Instead of trying to learn from what they were doing, not realizing that most people only post pictures or leave status updates when everything is peachy, I quit trying.

 

After I gave up, the voices settled in and really had a hay day. They turned my feelings into facts. They made it easier to blame others for what was happening around me. They filled my mind with "should's, must's and ought's".

 

At one of my first counseling sessions my therapist gave me a workbook that probably did more to help turn around my funk than any other thing I have tried since. The things I do now are supportive and help me maintain a happy mood, but without the workbook none of the supportive measures would have done a thing.

 

It starts out with a "Daily Thought Record" in which you monitor your feelings throughout the day. When you feel bad or unpleasant you describe the Event surrounding those feelings. For me, the first time I used the DTR, I came upstairs from working a particularly challenging shift at work (thank you Super Storm Sandy) and discovered that our house was a mess. In the interest of "keeping it real" and because I love you, here are a couple pics I took the morning after that blasted day.

 

 

(seeing them again...I do feel a little justified in my emotions, but I'm also grateful that something as silly as a messy house doesn't have the same power to drag me down as it used to) 

 

The next section asks you to describe the emotions surrounding the event or the Impact of the Event. I felt frustrated and sad because now I had to either clean it up myself or I would have to sit on my kids until they did it. Talking them through every step, refereeing arguments, keeping them motivated, knowing that I could clean it up by myself in about an hour or two, but asking 8 little hands to clean up their own mess meant a whole day ordeal that would most likely end in tears (theirs and mine).

It then asks you to Rate the Intensity of the emotion on a scale of 1-10. I was at a 7. Probably not my worst day, I wasn't ready to wake everyone up at that very moment and insist that they pick up their things before they could go back to bed (something that though I have been tempted to do on several occasions, I have had the wherewithal to resist) but I wasn't ready to let the emotions roll off my back either.

Next you are asked to analyze your thoughts. Within your Initial Responses, describe the automatic thoughts or self-talk. Then rate how believable it is from 1-10. My initial response was,  "I am the only one who ever cleans. If my family really loved me they would clean up after themselves and I wouldn't have to sit on them until they did. I must not be teaching them correctly." Luckily, even at this stage I knew that my thoughts were nowhere close to the truth. 

Here comes the fun part. There are several different ways in which we lie to ourselves on a daily basis that contribute to depression or a feeling of low self-esteem. They are called thought distortions. 

During this experience the thought distortions that I was experiencing were Assuming (I assumed I knew the motivations of the people who created the mess), Fairytale Fantasy (I believed that everyone else lived in perfectly maintained castles that were constantly and immaculately clean), Overgeneralizing (even though I knew better, the "never" and "always" beasties crept up on me), Dwelling on the Negative (instead of coming up from my shift and recognizing that a messy house meant that my family LIVED in my house and were busy making memories instead of being little maids, I decided to focus on the negative), Catastrophizing (it was a messy house, I wasn't a failure and neither were they), Personalizing (instead of allowing others to take the "blame" for the mess, I blamed my parenting) and Blaming (I blamed my family for my bad mood). Phew...that is a whole lot of crazy talk if you take a step back from it. But these were the battles that were raging in my mind EVERY day. 

After you take a step back and categorize you thoughts, it is now time to create a Reasonable Response. "Change the distortions to more reasonable thoughts. Rate how much you believe each from 1-10". A much more reasonable response to a messy house is, "When properly motivated and supervised my children are fabulous cleaners. They show me that they love me not only in the little acts of service that they do for me, but also with their gratitude, smiles and hugs. I do my best to teach them, lovingly, how to care for themselves, their things and others.". This reaction is much more accurate and believable. I rated it a 9. 

Finally you analyze the Results. "Based upon your Thought Analysis, rerate how much you believe your initial responses. Then rerate the intensity of your emotions". My initial response was a distortion of the facts.

After you have analyzed your thoughts and dissected them to this level it is much easier to have a handle on the emotions associated with your thoughts. That doesn't mean that I don't still get upset by a messy room or when things don't go according to plan, it just means that when I do get upset I don't spiral into a pit of despair. I don't believe everything that I think.

I was so grateful to realize that not everything that I think is fact. There are some "facts" running around in there that I would love to be true, but these hurtful distorted thoughts no longer (or at least most of the time) don't have power over me.

And because I'm not really ready to let the whole world in on my imperfections, this is what it looked like after I got a few hours off of work and really kicked it into high gear. (The kiddo's were a great help, and the tears were kept to a minimum) 

 

ps...I will try to find out more about the workbook my therapist gave me. She just gave me copies that she made from her book. I think they are excerpts from a book called, "The Self-Esteem Workbook", but on the info that I have it doesn't indicate an author (and I would love to give credit to those involved in this work of perfection). So I will look into it and get back to you :) 

just a little bit broken....and that's okay!

I have come to realize

that caring for myself

is not self indulgent.

Caring for myself

is an act of survival.

                                  -Audre Lorde

 

 

Hello friends! I have missed you so much and am so glad to be back. Our computer died a couple of weeks ago and it has taken a while to get the new one up and running. I am grateful for those few weeks, as they gave me some time to be a little more introspective. I learned so much about myself that I am so excited to share. So let's jump right in.

 

While I was away I read a great article posted in the Elephant Journal that really hit home. It is about a Hindu goddess named Akhilandeshvari. Her name roughly translated means "the never, not broken goddess". Upon first inspection the idea of being constantly broken is scary, but Akhilandeshvari derives her power from this constant flux of falling apart and picking the pieces back up again. Never getting stuck in toxic routines because she is never together long enough to stay there.

 

The author points out that one of the scariest parts of our lives are in those moments where we are lying broken, on our bedroom floors after a major shift in our lives. Whither it is a breakup, the loss of a job or the loss of a loved one. The hardest part to overcome is rewriting our future plans for ourselves. At the beginning of any relationship or job or circumstance we all create a manuscript of how we think things will play out. When things don't go according to plan that manuscript is shredded before our eyes and we are left to pick up the pieces and try to make sense of the new path all the while using what bits and pieces we can gather from the old manuscript to construct a new one. Losing that vision of our future is terrifying.

 

"But look, Akhilanda says, now you get to make a choice. In pieces, in a pile on your floor, with no idea how to go forward, your expectations of the future are meaningless. Your stories about the past do not apply. You are in flux, you are changing, you are flowing in a new way, and this is an incredibly powerful opportunity to become new again: to choose how you want to pull yourself back together. Confusion can be an incredible teacher - how could you ever learn if you already had it all figured out?" -Julie Peters

 

For the longest time my ultimate goal was to heal myself of my depression. I thought that if it crept up again, and I found myself in a pile on my floor that I had ultimately failed...again. So when those feelings do make their appearance, in any form whither it is a sad thought or actually breaking down and crying, I feel like a failure. Not only am I sad that I am experiencing these down in the dump feelings, I am sad that once again I wasn't strong enough to keep the feelings at bay.

 

But, if I know that depression is a part of me and that I will never be "not broken" the insult added to my injury will cease to have power over me. I can allow the sadness in, discover what it is trying to teach me and move on instead of sinking deeper because I have failed.

 

If you have a piece of china that has a crack in it, let's say it is a mug that's handle is being held to the body with a fine line of glue. You treat that mug differently. You don't pick it up with the gusto you would a mug that didn't have an "imperfection". You treat it gently and gingerly. You focus on the "imperfection" so as to prevent further damage.

 

Knowing my "imperfections" and knowing that there will always be the threat of some pretty dark days looming, I know that I have to treat myself gently. I need to be prepared to pick myself up off the floor over and over and over again. Which is exhausting and wildly exciting all in the same breath. I also need to focus on that part of me that is broken and create a plan to keep it from breaking even more. So here is my list.

 

In the coming weeks I will explain each one of these a little more, giving some of the "science" behind my decisions and I will link back to this post for easy referencing.

 

1) Eat healthy delicious food that nourishes my body and gives it what it needs.

 

2) Practice Yoga and meditation daily.

 

3) Use my "Happy Light" to help ward off seasonal affective disorder.

 

4) Get additional nutrients through supplements, the sun and soaking my feet.

 

5) Have a "cry day".
http://nomastoday.blogspot.com/2013/12/why-cry-day-is-actually-good-idea.html

 

6) Build my net.

 

7) Limit social media.

8) Weed through distorted thoughts and discover the truth. http://nomastoday.blogspot.com/2013/11/and-so-i-saw-shrink.html

 

These are the things that I know I have to do to keep the glue in place, and when the day comes again (which it ultimately will) that the glue just can't keep me together any longer I will get the opportunity to pull my pieces together in a new way, creating new routines and new experiences.



Mango Coconut Banana Bread (Vata balancing)

"Our thoughts and feelings have a chemical effect on our bodies. Stress, repressed emotions, depression, anxiety, lives being lived half-assed – all have profound effects on our wellbeing.

Even our fears, hurts and sufferings need to be digested, along with our last meal.

Being truly nourished has just as much to do with our thoughts, feelings, beliefs and experiences as it does with what we are feeding ourselves on a daily basis."

                                                                                                                   

                                                                                                                  -Corona via nurturepod.com

 

Todays quote was much longer than any other quote that I've posted so far, but I loved the way she expressed so much of what I have been feeling. Today's recipe is brought to you by my loose understanding of Ayurveda. I have read through the lists of flavors that help balance the different doshas and the thing that surprises me time and again is that when I truly listen to what my body is telling me I end up selecting foods that are part of the list to help balance my dosha. It shouldn't surprise me, but it does.

 

I thought about appearing "all knowing" and listing all of the flavors that balance the vata dosha, but that's not where I am at the moment. I am just doing my best to listen to the subtle cues that my body is sending out. You will be happy to know that I am caffeine free again (for the last 12 hours anyway, but it's a start), so that should help.

 

I've learned that winter is the prime season for vata to become imbalanced. Ayurveda says that "like increases like" and "opposites decrease". The vata dosha is characterized by the elements of air and space. Both of which increase in our natural world during the winter through qualities of cold, dry, light, mobile, rough, and subtle. It is not surprising that winters have been hard for me to endure for the last several years. During a time when the vata dosha is easily imbalanced I have also been trying to loose weight, eating light and cold foods instead of the warm and comforting foods that my body wants. The "like increases like" throwing my body into vata imbalance that spirals into depression.   

 

Beyond listening to what my body wants by way of nourishment, I am also trying to do as the quote suggests and truly digest my emotions. It is easier to push those emotions aside, especially the really ugly ones, and just hope that they go away. But scientists are finding that these emotions often have physical repercussions. I think many of us have either read an article or listened to a radio blurb talking about the physical ailments attributed to stress. It isn't hard to imagine that our other emotions create either physical harm or physical healing depending on the emotion.

 

So, today I will allow my emotions a place to express themselves. I wont push away the ugly ones. I will invite them to sit with me, no matter how scary that might be. We will get to know one another and try to come to the reason for their visit. I will love and accept them for what they are trying to teach me. I will digest their lesson and move on, knowing that I didn't try to bury them without giving them a chance to speak. Everything that I experience is for my good.

 

While I am conversing with my emotions, I think I will offer them some of the delicious Mango Coconut Banana Bread that I made yesterday. It has the perfect blend of down to earth goodness that my emotions are in need of. As the days shorten and the earth gets colder I hope you will try some as well. Curl up with a warm slice and a cup of your favorite tea with a splash of milk.

 

 

 

Mango Coconut Banana Bread

 

2 1/2 c flour

2 tsp baking soda

1/2 tsp nutmeg

2/3 c sugar

1 c sunflower oil

4 eggs, lightly beaten

2 tsp coconut extract

2 tsp lemon juice

2 c diced ripe mango (1 large mango or 2 small)

4 extra ripe bananas, mashed

1/2 c coconut flakes

 

Preheat oven to 350 or 325 if using a convection oven. Sift together flour, baking soda and nutmeg. In a separate bowl combine sugar, sunflower oil, eggs, coconut extract, lemon juice, mango and mashed bananas.

 

Fold dry ingredients into wet ingredients being careful not to over mix. Divide batter between two prepared loaf pans and sprinkle coconut on top. Bake for 50-55 minutes. Check half way through cooking time to ensure that coconut is not becoming too dark. If it is you can cover the pans with foil to prevent any further browning. Make sure that it is cooked through by inserting a clean toothpick into the center of the loaf; if it comes out clean then it is ready.

 

  

M.I.A....oy veh!

“If your compassion does not include yourself,

it is incomplete.”  

                                                         -Buddha
 

So, you've probably noticed that I've been "missing in action". I think I only had one post for all of last week. There have been a couple of contributing factors, but I think the single most contributing factor is that I took a running leap off the wagon. I would like to say I "fell off the wagon". I would like to say that I was doing everything in my power to stay on the wagon. I would like to say that I was being dragged behind the wagon, being battered and bruised by rocks and sage brush and the only logical explanation of why I was no longer "on the wagon" was because I had to free myself from the constant beatings. But truth be told I was quite enjoying my ride on the wagon. Things were looking up. I was feeling better physically and mentally and really felt like I had a handle on what I was doing and then suddenly, out of no where I just decided that one Coke wouldn't hurt.

 

I decided that even though everything was perfect I should take this opportunity to screw things up again. I saw something in the distance that resembled happiness in the form of sweet syrup cascading gently over cool refreshing ice with tiny bubbles that exist only to tickle my taste buds. So instead of sitting nicely on the wagon, knowing that I was discovering the path to true happiness, I opted to scream "Sayonara suckers" and jump off. Right now I am so far from the wagon, that I can barely make out the dust cloud created by the wagon wheels in the distant horizon.

 

The thought of chasing after that wagon is exhausting. But I know that if I want things to "work" in my life I have to let caffeine go. I wish I could find balance with caffeine and use it just on days when I have something pressing to do and no energy to do it, but that goes against everything Ayurveda and it goes against everything that my body knows.

 

So here I go again, making a new commitment to you and to myself that I will let it go. But more than just "let it go", this time I am planning new ways to combat cravings. I have been looking into a type of acupuncture that is called "Tapping" or "EFT". My counselor recommended it when I saw her last winter. The basic idea is that the cause of all negative emotions is a disruption in the body's energy systems. This disruption can manifest itself in the form of a craving, a sudden change in affect or illness. By tapping on energy meridian points on your body, and focusing on love and self care, you are able to stabilize your energy fields and return to a place of equilibrium.

 

It looks interesting. Honestly, if someone said that the key to constant happiness is to wear your undies on the outside of your clothing I would jump on board so fast you wouldn't even see the transformation. I might look ridiculous in the process, but I will try anything.



 

Today I choose to have compassion for myself. I recognize my limitations and I create a plan to overcome everything that stands in my way. After all, to quote Stuart Smalley from "Saturday Night Live", "I'm good enough. I'm smart enough, and dog on it people like me."



Away

In this moment all is well.

I am safe.

There is nothing I have to do & nowhere I have to go.

I relax my body & my mind.

I am grateful for this moment.

 

 

 

 

This was my view this weekend. It was absolutely, blissfully, perfect. I've decided that part of the reason I escape when things become to hectic and life gets to be too much is because it is the one time where I can let go of my constant worries and really enjoy my family. I don't think about the house work, the bills that need to be paid or the things that I am failing at. I let it all go and really focus on and enjoy each of my four little miracles.

 

This weekend was brought to you by thing 1. My oldest child LOVES to fish, almost to the point of obsession. In the past this obsession has been one of the hardest things that I have had to deal with as a mother. Saying that he is a persistent child would be like saying that standing on the sun might be a little too warm to handle. He doesn't take "No" for an answer. Even when I say that I just don't see a way that I can get him to a fishing hole that day, he will retort with a long list of "What ifs". This is something that I don't want to take out of him, but something that is completely and utterly exhausting. Just thinking about his persistence is giving me a mild panic attack. I don't like saying "No" if I can help it, but he has three other siblings who have things that they want to do as well, and though I hate to say it, I can't please everyone.

 

As he has gotten older it has been easier to say yes, which is great for him and even more liberating for me. We live fairly close to three different ponds that are stocked on a regular basis. If I'm not able to take him, he can ride his bike to one of the ponds and fish to his heart's content.

 

Lately though, these little ponds just aren't satisfying him like they used to. So the persistence is back in full force. Now he wants to fish on real lakes or rivers. For the first time these requests aren't so debilitating. In fact, they seem to be exactly what I need.

 

Growing up we went camping almost every weekend. Our time was spent fishing, hiking, catching tadpoles and sitting around the fire telling silly stories and listening to the 8 track. My parents had a sweet case that housed some of the finest 8 tracks around. Our nights were filled with the raspy sound of John Denver, the Oak Ridge Boys and Johnny Cash. That was camping to me.

 

When we first had kids we tried camping a couple of times, but soon realized that it was so much work. We were both going to school full time and working full time and trying to be full time parents. Anything that required more than 50% power was just too much. So in the last 15 years we have only been camping maybe 5 times.

 

This summer we went again. Even though it is a lot of work it is exponentially easier now that our kids are older. It still took a full day to get everything packed up and ready to go, but that same amount of packing would have taken me a day and a half if I were doing it on my own. I made a list of things that I needed the kids to find and I worked on my own little projects to help us on our way. Besides the music, camping for me is all about the food. This time we had our traditional Tinfoil Dinners and popcorn cooked over the fire. We also tried Campfire Eclairs which were a HUGE hit!

 

This weekend thing 1 wanted to go fishing, surprise surprise, and instead of coming up with a list of reasons why we couldn't, I said yes. I'm sure there were things that I could have done around the house, or plans that I could have been making, but I bit my tongue and planned a fun day trip to one of my favorite childhood haunts.

 

The mantra at the top of this post is something that I read regularly and something that has helped me be more fully engaged and aware in the present moment. I have a terrible habit of not always enjoying a moment. I think as moms we are wired to think two to three steps ahead so as to anticipate any catastrophes. Something that is brilliant on one hand and life sucking on the other. You can only enjoy the here and now. Though it is important to plan for the possibilities of the future the experience of this present moment will soon become a memory.

 

I am so glad I said yes. We played in the water, snuggled on the beach, laughed at the silliest things and of course,  the boys went fishing.

 

This was our view coming down the canyon. (see, I told you the leaves were changing)

 

 

In the coming week I am going to share with you my plan to stay happy this winter, because really, it is just around the corner. 



Farewell to Summer

Every leaf speaks bliss

 to me, fluttering from

the autumn tree.

                       -Emily Bronte

Can you feel it? It's happening in minute changes. It isn't really that much colder yet, but I feel fairly confident in saying that we won't see any more 100+ degree days around here this season. I don't know if it is because we become acclimated by the end of summer or if I'm just ready for the season of big baggy sweaters and everything pumpkin, but I was actually a little chilly yesterday. It was still in the mid 80's. But, as the wind tousled my hair I got a faint shiver that ran up my spine and exploded in a full body quiver.

Today my family is saying farewell to summer by going to the water park. I know that we are still weeks away from the "official end of summer", but with the kids in school and, dare I say it with a gasp, the leaves beginning to change in the higher elevations, it feels like it is time.

I've been waiting to break out some new pumpkin recipes because I don't want to be the person who is ready to put up their Christmas decor one week into November. I don't think I can hold out for much longer. Pumpkin Cheesecake and Pumpkin Bread French Toast with Cinnamon Spiked Syrup, even Pumpkin Canolli's are certain to grace our table.  I have plans to make some new fall decorations from some odds and ends I have laying around the house. The kids and I are going to go to the park and scavenge for pine cones for some fun little burlap acorns I have my eye on making and so that I can make a few more of these beauties for winter. (Look for a step by step guide in the coming weeks)

But, with as much as I look forward to fall, winter scares me. I have begged my husband for YEARS to let us live somewhere that has more mild seasons, and by mild seasons I mean no real acknowledgement of winter at all. A couple of weeks ago I promised him that I would do EVERYTHING in my power to stay happy this winter. To which I made him promise that if my best efforts fail we would finally move from Utah. I hope that it doesn't come to this, but I also know I can't last for too much longer.

I don't want to set myself up to fail. I know what it takes to move and I know moving out of state will be just that much harder. I just hope that I have done the "dirty work" to prepare myself mentally for the coming storms. I am going to do my best to create more adventure time outside, maybe even come up with a winter "bucket list" and countdown. Like watching contractions on the monitor, I think that if I have something tangible to measure when the misery will be over, I think I will be able to endure it. I really hope that this winter I THRIVE instead of merely survive.

On the plus side, I do know a few more things about myself that have been a mystery up until this point. So hopefully with this knowledge and the knowledge that winter does eventually fade into a beautifully colorful spring, I can make it. Here's to a depression free winter, I think it's about time! 





Band-Aids

I want to travel the world

and breathe the air of new places.

 

 

 



When I was in college I had several anxious, worry filled moments. I worried that my grades were not as good as they should be. I worried that I wouldn't be able to stretch the money that my parents had given me to last throughout the month. I worried that I was disappointing my parents. I worried that I wasn't studying hard enough. All of these worries and the worries surrounding my upcoming marriage came to a head one spring morning and I found myself having a minor panic attack.

I knew that there were certain things that I would always worry about, but the crushing fear and inability to function that day almost took me out. I wandered around campus like a ghost attending my classes, but being completely disconnected from the present moment. I couldn't focus on anything but the pounding in my chest and the anxious feeling that I just couldn't get to the root of.

After class I walked into our lobby of my dorm and talked with one of my friends. I described my anxiety asking if he had ever just been super anxious but couldn't figure out why, to which he replied, "Yeah, it's kind of like you need to travel." I was sold! I knew if I could just get away from everything that was causing me stress I could relax. I knew that I didn't have a lot of money, but if I got a couple of my roommates together we could all pitch in on gas and could take a little weekend away. Since we were only a couple of miles from Lava Hot Springs we decided this was the perfect retreat.

So we packed up our towels and swim suits and piled into my little Toyota Corolla. About an hour into our drive we came to a familiar fork in the road. The previous year a couple of friends and I had vacationed in Seattle for spring break. We had fallen in love with the Ansel Adam's print of Multnomah falls in Oregon, so we planned a trip around the falls that turned into a brilliant get away. The fork that I was approaching on this trip would either take us to Lava Hot Springs if we turned right and Seattle if we turned left. After about 20 seconds of deliberation, with a hoot and a holler we turned LEFT!

The energy of the car immediately changed. Though we were excited to go to Lava Hot Springs the possibility of an adventure in Seattle held so much more mystery and promise. We gave no thought to the fact that we had no money, no change of clothes, no toiletries, we just knew that adventure was calling and we had no other choice but to answer.

By this time the sun was beginning to set and I worried for a moment that we might have bitten off more than I could chew. My Corolla was a stick shift and I was the only one in the car that could drive a stick. We left the dorm around 6:00 and knowing that we had 12-13 hours of driving ahead of us, I worried that I wouldn't be able to stay awake for the whole journey. But I also knew there was no turning around. Keep in mind that this was in a time before cell phones. (Some people had them, but they weren't intended for starving college students) So if we did find ourselves in a ditch, we would have to sit and wait until some stranger just happened upon us.

At our first stop I loaded up on Mt. Dew and chocolate. We were still giddy about our decision and were clucking out ideas about what we could do when we arrived in Seattle. By 1:00 am almost everyone had settled down and we were quietly listening to the radio. By 2:00 everyone in the car was asleep, including me, for the most part. I look back on that trip and wonder how we ever made it. We were driving through canyons with steep cliffs at a rate of speed that was barely safe for someone who was completely conscious and there were distinct sections of the drive that I just don't remember. It was not my brightest moment.

By 3:00 I knew that I was REALLY no longer safe to drive. We stopped for gas and I told my friends that we would either need to sleep there for a couple hours or someone else would need to man the helm. My roommate Mindy got a crash course in driving a manual transmission and we were on our way. I settled in to the back seat and slept for two hours straight without even the slightest inkling that I wasn't comfortably in my bed.

When we stopped for breakfast I was refreshed and ready to take over again. We continued our journey without further incident, unless you count getting pulled over and issued a warning for speeding by a lovely highway patrolman from Oregon.

I think we spent a total of 8 hours in Seattle but we sucked every last drop of fun out of the trip as we possibly could. We rode the ferry over to Bainbridge island and sipped on Italian sodas, we ate lunch at the diner featured in "Sleepless in Seattle" (pictured above), we strolled through Pikes Market and bought pastries and big beautiful grapes, we saw the space needle and just released ourselves to the notion of serendipity.

I bring this trip up, not to show you how fun and spontaneous I am (which you will hopefully discover on your own as we become better friends), but to come to the realization that travel for me is a band-aid. Since this trip I have found myself with an unrelenting drive to travel especially when I am feeling stressed or anxious. I work where I work to satisfy my wanderlust.

Earlier this year I had the opportunity to speak with a therapist who taught me that anxiety and depression are best of friends. She said that many people with depression also have issues with anxiety. We talked through ways to cope with anxiety besides slapping on a band-aid, and I think that I have been able to take a step back when those familiar feelings begin cropping up and really analyze what is going on. That doesn't mean that I don't still have an immediate, unquenchable desire to get out of Dodge, it just means that when those feelings come up I look inside to make sure there isn't something else spurring that desire.

I realize, now more than ever, that I can't always just pack up and get away. I need to face my anxiety head on, clean up the wound and work on healing it. Even though travel is a LOVELY alternative to facing my problems, my problems will still be there when the thrill of the adventure has worn off and I'm left with a post vacation hangover.

The Slow Road

We must take adventures,

in order to know where we truly belong.

 

 

 





 

Last summer the hubs and I were able to go to Hawaii twice, once with the kids in February and once by ourselves in May. Working for an airline, we travel as often as our pocketbooks will allow. On our trip in May we rented a tandem kayak in Kailua, Oahu and paddled out to the little island in the foreground of this picture. I believe collectively they are called the Mokulua Islands and the one we landed on is called Moku Nui. On the right hand side you can see the beach, the middle of the island is a bird sanctuary and on the left is a beautiful little lagoon that has been carved out of the island by waves (but more on that later).

 

When we rented the kayak the guides gave us some very specific instructions on how to access the island, #1 for safety and #2 to help preserve the sanctuary. There were three little islands that were pretty close to each other. The first one that we came to was flat and pretty barren, so we decided to keep on paddling. The one in the background of the picture is completely off limits because the whole thing is a bird sanctuary. So we set our sites on Moku Nui.

 

We remembered that we were to access the island on the beach side, and we remembered not to cross over the middle of the island. We also remembered to watch the waves a couple of times before trying to cross any of the wet volcanic rock to avoid being swept out to sea. What we didn't remember was if we were supposed to paddle out to the first island, run parallel with the beach and then take a sharp left until we hit the beach of Moku Nui. Or, if we were supposed to paddle out until we had a straight shot of Moku Nui and then paddle parallel to the beach.

 

We did the second and quickly found that the first set of directions were the ones we were supposed to follow. We found ourselves mixing it up with waves that could topple our little kayak if we didn't fight to stay afloat. Looking at the picture, we were heading straight for the rock where the waves break on the corral, right where the dark blue water becomes aqua. So instead of paddling straight for the island we would have to turn our kayak and paddle into the wave, straighten out and paddle towards the island and then back into a wave again making little stair steps towards the island.

 

As the waves were battering us we thought about turning back, but by the time we discovered we were in trouble the waves had gotten pretty big and going back the way we came was more treacherous than continuing our journey. We couldn't turn towards Kailua because there was a narrow channel running between the beach of Kailua and the beach of Moku Nui that was perpendicular with our current location. Paddling straight for the shore of Kailua meant the very real possibility of being thrown into the coral and becoming beached. So we just kept paddling, digging in as deep as we could, knowing that with every paddle forward we were also being pushed back. Our progress was slow but long story short, we made it!

 

 

 



 

In the background of this picture you can see the waves that ran between the islands, they are only about half as big as the ones we were paddling into.

 

We rested for a bit and warmed up on the sun drenched beach and decided it was time for some more discovery. So we hiked along the volcanic rock until we found the little lagoon.

 

 

After testing the water and making sure we wouldn't be dragged from the lagoon out into the open sea we decided to jump in. We swam around with beautiful tropical fish and floated effortlessly in the rich warm salt water. The best part, we had the whole thing to ourselves. It was like we were the only two people alive on the planet. It was pure bliss!

 

I was thinking about this adventure last night as I was going over the events of the day. I had planned on waking up early and working out. I have been wanting to lose some weight for a while now, but in the past I have lost a good amount of weight, something happens and I become sad and I gain it all back again. I know what it takes to lose weight, but the getting sad part has halted me in my tracks. I am currently doing pretty well, as far as my mood is concerned, and the thought of getting to a sad place again scares me! So when my alarm went of yesterday morning that was the only thought in my mind. If I exercise, I will lose weight, I will get sad and I will gain it all back again which will just make me even more sad. So I hit snooze and that was the end of that.

 

I've decided to give myself a break. Instead of: constantly beating myself up with insults; restrictive diets that just make me cranky and cardio driven workouts I have chosen a more mindful approach. I will give myself time. Though I would have liked to have lost the weight yesterday, yesterday is gone and nothing will change that. I will move forward, making healthy food choices and expand my yoga practice. This, like my adventure to Moku Nui, may be the slow road, but it is a sustainable road. I may take two steps forward and one step back, but this is still progress. In the end I will arrive at my own little private island and I will be a better, happier person for choosing the slow road.

 

 

A retraction of sorts...

Remember, they are only thoughts,

and thoughts can be changed.

The point of power

is always in the present moment.

 

 

I was just reading over my "Namaste" post and I realized that I came off a little arrogant, so I wanted to take a moment to explain myself. Having been a wounded soldier in the war on depression I know that you can't simply CHOOSE to be happy. If that is all it took there wouldn't even be a word to describe depression because everyone would choose to be happy and we would be done with it.

 

Depression is such a complex experience that is unique to the person who is going through it. For me, I went from being a vibrant happy person who prided herself on being a "June Cleaver" housewife to being a bump on a log with only the slightest hint of a pulse. I know being "June Cleaver perfect" isn't the ideal for most people, but I LOVED a clean house. I LOVED dressing my kids up in somewhat matching outfits, their hair neatly done, so that when I took pictures of them it would be easier for me to find scrapbook paper to immortalize and document this time in their lives. I LOVED having dinner on the table, the house picked up and the kids playing happily together when my husband came home. This is what I expected of myself and, for the most part, this is what our life looked like.

 

When it didn't look like this, vicious voices would begin gnawing at my brain. If the kids were fighting I would think, "I must be a horrible mother. They ALWAYS fight. I must not be teaching them the things I should." When dinner wasn't on the table, or HEAVEN forbid we had take out, I would think, "Why can't I keep it together. My family is going to fall apart if I keep this up. Who can grow and thrive on McDonald's? I AM such a looser."

 

These voices were the beginning of the end. After a while I really started to believe these voices and eventually I gave up. My "June Cleaver" image became too hard to maintain. I was crushed. 

 

The first time I called to make an appointment with a doctor about depression I bawled when the receptionist asked me the reason for my visit. To save face, I cancelled the appointment a couple of days later. I just couldn't bare the thought of someone knowing that I couldn't "keep it together". I suffered in silence for another year. 

 

At my annual exam with my OB I decided to bring it up. My hope was that she could recommend a "natural" solution. This part makes me sad. In my mind the thought of asking for a prescription meant that I was just that much further gone. That I was that much more "broken". If I could fix it with herbs or meditation I thought that would mean I wasn't really officially depressed. I wish that there wasn't such a stigma around the use of medication for a medical condition. No one would look at a diabetic and say, "You know, you really don't NEED insulin. You should try focusing on the positive and THINK your way out of it. If you need medication you are weak." BUT this is thrown in the face of people facing depression every day. Well meaning people try to "medicate" people with depression by telling them what has worked to turn around their sadness. Sadness and depression are not the same thing. I expect that even when I have recovered from this latest depressive episode I will experience sadness. Sadness is a part of life. Depression shouldn't be.

 

So I left her office with a prescription for Celexa. I took it faithfully for a couple of months and noticed a slight change in my mood, but not enough to say it worked. I made another appointment and left with a prescription for Welbutrin, but after 4-5 days worth of migraines an hour or so after I took it, I decided Welbutrin wasn't my fix. I could mostly function with depression. I couldn't function with a house full of kids and migraines every day. I just want to say that anyone who has gone through trial and error with their doctor to find something that works is a ROCK STAR. It can take months of baring your soul to another human being, who looks like they have it all together, to finally find something that works. I wasn't that strong. I thought, after two attempts, if I couldn't get it right then I couldn't go back because, once again, I was failing. So I didn't go back and suffered through some of the worst years of my life. On the outside they should have been some of the happiest years, but on the inside I was dying. 

 

In those years I tried herbs, yoga and meditation, I even went to a therapist (something that I am eternally grateful for). I started following an Ayurvedic lifestyle which incorporated specific lifestyle changes and routines. Out of everything, I learned to listen to my body again. I learned that my body doesn't do well with caffeine. I always felt that I needed caffeine to maintain my perfect housewife image, because let's face it, the house doesn't clean itself. This still plays into my life as the ultimate paradox. I need caffeine to keep up with the kids and the house, but caffeine eventually makes me sluggish and unable to perform even the most basic task. I also learned that I can't eat a lot of sugar without it being balanced with some protein. With both caffeine and sugar I would find myself being harder on myself and my kids and even feel a wave of sadness as the sugar was being metabolized. 

 

Now that you know my background story. I want you to know that you CAN choose to be happy. You can CHOOSE to talk to your doctor and find a prescription that works for you. You can CHOOSE to take your medication. You can CHOOSE to do yoga and meditate. You can CHOOSE to listen to your body and find the thing that will change your way of thinking. You can CHOOSE to go to a therapist and learn from their wealth of knowledge. Only you can CHOOSE to be happy. You can CHOOSE to say "No More Today". Namaste.

 

Namaste

My soul honors your soul.

I honor the place in you where the entire universe resides.

I honor the light, love, truth, beauty and peace within you,

because it is also within me.

In sharing these things we are united, we are the same,

we are one.

Namaste.

 

Why "No Mas Today"? I chose my blog title as a constant reminder that there will be "No More Today". No more waiting to be happy. No more listless days spent crying that things are not the way I want them to be. No more knowing what I need to do to tear the depression from the bones that it clings to and refusing to put in the effort. No more giving someone else the power to decide the level of happiness I deserve. No more playing the victim.

It took several silent moments, where a sliver of sunlight reminded me that the sun did still exist, to come to the realization that I am worth fighting for. I am a great person that has so much to offer the world. In the deepest, darkest days of depression I had forgotten that. I had forgotten what it meant to be happy. I had forgotten that even the daily mundane tasks could bring joy.

So, no mas today. Today I am turning over that incredibly heavy leaf. I am putting myself first so that I can be the best person I can be for myself, my kids and my husband. They say, "If mama ain't happy, ain't nobody happy". I hope that throughout the last few years I have been able to mask my unhappiness so that my children don't look back at this time with sadness. I choose happiness for me and my family. I don't want them to be unhappy because I wasn't willing to do the things that I needed to do to find happiness. I am worth it and so are they!

Within this blog, I hope to share with you my journey. I will be sharing little anecdotes of my life, love and passions. I will also be sharing ideas to simplify your life so that you too can find happy again. I will be sharing new recipes that I discover and create that mirror an Ayruvedic lifestyle. Ayurveda is an ancient Indian way of life that focuses on food being a source of healing and joy. There are many other elements of Ayurveda, but I have found that if you start with food the rest follows. If you fill your belly with the things that it needs you become more in tune to the other subtle cues that your body is trying to communicate. I believe that many everyday ailments could be alleviated by simply listening to these cues.

Recently I was asked to write as a member of the Bountiful Baskets blogging team, something that I am so honored and humbled to do. I found Bountiful Baskets at a particularly tough time in my life. It was a time where it was difficult to get out of bed let alone prepare healthy delicious meals for my family. I felt weighed down by the everyday tasks of motherhood and having to plan a menu, shop for the food, bring the food home, put it away and then take it back out again, prepare it, clean up the carnage that happens with a family of six and then do it all over again. But when I didn't nourish my family I felt like a failure, which made everything else just that much worse.

When I got my first basket I felt an enormous weight had been lifted off my shoulders. I no longer had to think about which vegetables I wanted to incorporate into our meals for the coming week. I simply had to show up with my basket and take home all of the delicious goodness. I started looking at my meal planning in a completely different way. Not only was I bringing home vegetables and fruit that I hadn't thought of trying before, but I was also planning our meals around the vegetables in my basket instead of planning an entree and then throwing a vegetable at it as an afterthought.

Here is a link to their website. I would be happy to answer any questions you might have about Bountiful Baskets and would encourage you to check them out!

http://bountifulbaskets.org/

And here is a link to their blog. Look forward to many tasty meal ideas that will nourish your mind, body and soul. Namaste.

http://blog.bountifulbaskets.org/