You don’t have to fix this.

Dear friend,

Things suck for me right now. It’s certainly not the worst, and there are a whole lot of positives for me to celebrate as well, but I am just plain sad and angry. I’m grieving. I truly know I will be okay, and I am so grateful for all the amazing-ness that exists in my life, but simultaneously, I want to punch everything, and there will be tears.

There is nothing for you to do about this. I don’t want you to help me fix this. I don’t need action steps, or solutions, or metaphors. I appreciate them, and I do love that you want to be there for me, but all I really want and need right now is your presence.

I want to be hugged. I want to be snuggled. I want to be cuddled. I want to feel warm and cry into your shirt. You can tell me you love me as many times as there are stars in the sky. You can invite me over to snuggle your animals. You can sit really close to me on the couch as we watch shitty movies. You don’t have to say anything in particular. You don’t have to fix this, because there is nothing to fix.

Thanks for letting me be sad. I love you.

I am allowed to disappoint people. You are allowed to disappoint people.

Never-mind doing things wrong or making mistakes, which I have also come to realize and grasp is okay; I’m talking about the fact that I am really, truly, allowed to disappoint people. I had this realization today. I don’t need to make people happy.

Just as I don’t need you to make me happy, you don’t need me to make you happy. I’ve understood that I don’t have to be perfect (though I certainly still struggle with it), but when this clicked for me this afternoon while bent over the 1960 german Heidelberg Windmill printing press at work, it felt like I had struck gold.

I guess it’s been so deeply ingrained in me to always strive to please, that even though I’ve grasped concepts close to this idea–setting boundaries, taking care of my needs first, saying no whenever I want to, not to take things personally, it feels like I stumbled on a new piece of the ever-deepening and never-ending discovery of what it means to be a conscious human.

So often I am too concerned about how my actions will make you feel. Well, I’ve learned that your actions can’t “make” me feel any particular way–that it’s my choice to be upset when you show up 20 minutes late to our meeting. I could also choose to think of those 20 minutes as a cool unexpected period of time where I get to read fiction, and feel grateful for it instead. The point is, the choice is mine, as always. Similarly, it’s your choice to feel positive or negative when I take an action.

I’m not saying that what I do won’t have any bearing on your experience–it probably will, unless you are numb. But I have been so careful to most often choose an action that will make you, or my boyfriend, or my friend feel happy, that I’ve stifled my own being. And on top of that, I am only IMAGINING what I think you will feel. I might have a good idea of how you will feel when I tell you I’m going to stay home rather than come to that thing you invited me to, but really, I don’t–how you choose to look at it is up to you. So I might as well do us both a favor and do what I’m going to do, and let you feel however you’re going to feel. If that’s disappointed, that’s ok. It’s ok for me that you’re disappointed; it’s your choice whether it’s ok for you that you’re disappointed.

If I allow myself the space to be disappointed, which I do (although grudgingly sometimes, of course) and know that I will feel disappointment and the myriad of other unhappy feelings on a regular basis for as long as I live, why do I think it’s not ok for you to feel those things? Are you so fragile that you can’t handle a little disappointment? Surely I trust you to be heartier than that. All the times I’ve felt disappointed have only helped my skin grow a little thicker, boost my confidence to know that I could weather the storms that come my way. Why should I baby you? Perhaps I should learn to trust you a little, give you some credit. I’m going to disappoint you, as I’m sure I have in the past, but this time I’ll try to trust that if we’re meant to be in each other’s lives, you’ll continue loving me as I continue loving you through happy times and sad.

I think the final straw that queued this giant “a-ha” for me was listening to the TED Radio Hour Podcast on Growing Up. One of the speakers was talking about how different we raise our children in this generation than the generations raised kids previously: how before, children worked and so parents didn’t spend a lot of time with the children and the kids were, for better or worse ethically, “economically relevant”. But these days, school has replaced work in the lives of children, and parents spend more time with their young and since the kids are not bringing in money for the family, they are “economically irrelevant, and emotionally relevant” (or something along those lines). And the main thing parents focus on these days is making their children happy. That didn’t sound so crazy to me, because just like the majority of parents today, the general consensus is that is the most important thing in raising kids is to make them happy. The speaker, journalist Jennifer Senior argued “that the goal of raising happy children is so elusive that it has put modern, middle-class parents into a panic.” Is it really the responsibility of parents to make their kids happy? And I realized that I don’t think that’s true–I don’t think parents are responsible for making their kids happy. Likewise, I am not responsible for making my parents happy. Nor are you responsible for making me happy, nor am I responsible for making you happy.

Unhappiness, discomfort, challenge, adversity–I’d like to think that’s what’s made me into the multifaceted, empathetic, creative person I am today. I certainly don’t think we should go so far as to TRY to make eachother unhappy or to disappoint one another, but fuck, sometimes you just can’t avoid it, especially if you are not going to squash a little bit of who you are in the process. So let’s practice not being so goddamn delicate. Life is tough as shit sometimes; there is grief, sorrow, heartbreak, and bitter disappointment. It is impossible to avoid. Perhaps we could not be so afraid of causing these feelings for another that we shrink our selves.

To reality. To disappointing one another. To life, in all it’s glory and sorrow.

30 Days No Sugar

 

I just finished 30 days of eating only “real” whole foods, and no sugar.

The first few days were the hardest, especially when a coworker brought a bunch of homemade cookies to work and they were out in a bowl all day. I know this feat would have been impossible if I were merely resisting out of sheer will power, so I made sure to have solid motivation before I started. My goal was not to lose weight or look a certain way, my goal was “to feel good”. And when those strong urges which said “Yeah but it’s free! And it’s your favorite kind of cookie! And ooh look how soft and fresh they are, one bite won’t hurt!” I gently reminded myself that a) this was not forever, only 30 days and b) cookies would not make me feel good (for more than a few seconds). I took the long view.

After a while, I got used to the idea that I just didn’t eat sugar, and stopped thinking about what sweet treat to have. I did give myself free reign to eat fruit (and even feast on it when I felt close to getting icecream). Things began to taste sweeter as my tastebuds grew more accustomed to natural sweetness.

So what did I eat? I ate only foods that exist naturally, without processing, and without ingredients which I cannot pronounce.

I didn’t have to change my entire regime, but I did give up some of my favorite things like honey and packaged flavored oatmeal. Instead, a day of eating would look like this: blended salad for breakfast (cucumber, avocado, tomatoes, carrots, beets, spinach, olive oil); roasted veggies, sausage, and quinoa for lunch; bananas and apples with peanut butter for snack; and eggs, bacon, and a hashbrown for dinner (yes I know these are generally breakfast items 😉 )

I did “cheat” on my birthday (decadent chocolate cake, ice cream, and frozen yogurt), but this was a planned cheat from the very beginning. I also ate a tbsp of ketchup on several days, which, while a “simple” version of ketchup (no corn syrup or fake ingredients), still contains sugar. I also had honey in the first week, before deciding to exclude it from the regime.

Not only did I choose different foods, I also decided to eat more mindfully–chewing each bite until it became a paste, putting my fork down between bites helped me savor the flavor and become fuller faster.

I was also mindful in the preparation of my food most days–I batch cooked large amounts of vegetables on the weekends to make choosing these foods a no brainer–they were already ready so I had no excuse. I also took care in preparing them and making them tasty, using seasonings and trying new recipes made it fun.

I was recommended a book called Food Rules by Michael Pollan which went along nicely with my plan for the month, inspiring some of the approaches I used. It’s a simple book

What Did I Find?

I found small changes and ways that I feel better. Nothing monumental, just a few simple, small, yet powerful changes. My energy is more consistent throughout the day–no big ups and downs like after a heavy meal with lots of processed bread and sugar. My mood still fluctuates, but I am more willing and able to move past it, to carry on rather than get wrapped up in it. I lost 3.5 pounds, with less exercise than previous months (yoga 2x week, bellydancing 1x week, occasional walks). My skin is clearer, though still not free from acne.

What now?

Well, “food” was the first month-long experiment for me this year. Each month, I will focus on an area I’d like to grow in. While I told myself (and meant it) that I only had to eat this way for the month of January, I enjoy it and elect to retain it, for the most part. I think the biggest thing I’m taking away from the experience is that it IS possible for me to say no to sugar. I have control, not it. And with that control and power, I can make wiser choices. Or at least, choose more mindfully. I plan to have a big scoop of icecream today (maybe two!) and hop back on the wagon. I intend to eat sugar when it’s a real treat, not as an every day occurrence. And even if it’s free, I can still say no. I make the decision.

Goodbye 2013, Hello 2014

So, I tried to sum up my year like I did at the end of 2012, but it just didn’t wanna come out of my brain. I also wanted to finish this post yesterday: have a nice clean closing of the 2013 book on December 31st so I could celebrate New Years Eve with nothing on my mind, and wake up this morning a clean slate.

Well, none of that worked out how I wanted. As hard as I tried, the words didn’t seem to fit together yesterday. And then it came time to leave for celebrations, and as I learned last year, you can’t stay home and write a blogpost when life is calling–you’ve got to live first, write about living second. (Or last, perhaps).

And what happened when I didn’t get my way? Absolutely Nothing. The world didn’t end, I still had a great time celebrating, and I woke up this morning feeling great in spite of (or more likely because of) the fact that I let go of the false need to finish everything at an arbitrary moment. I stopped forcing it, and went with the flow. No, I wasn’t able to close my 2013 book neatly and wrap it with a bow, but if there’s one thing I learned last year, it’s that nothing is neat. Life is fucking messy. But there’s beauty among the wreckage.

Part of the reason that I wasn’t able to write about 2013 the way I’m used to summing up my years is that a lot of really tough shit happened, and I’m still digesting it. I’m still processing the trauma, the healing, the love and the loss. One year ended and another began, but the changing of a number has very little impact on my life. It is fluid, and does not start anew just because a page in a calender turns. 2013 is still a part of me.

So, in true 2013 fashion, I have to learn to live with what is. I’ve learned this year not to try and force things; to feel what I’m feeling and own it, no matter how downright awful it is; to keep going however I can, with what I have in this very moment. To be honest, even when it means admitting I’m way less than perfect. To share, connect, and stay involved even when I’m not feeling my shiny best.

I look forward to sharing the specifics of 2013, in particular how I got through 6 months of anxiety, depression, and the other goodies that come with Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder. Stay tuned for that.

Anyways, since I’m unable to sum up 2013 yet, I thought I’d share my ideas for 2014.

Last year was a lot of putting out fires and treading water to stay afloat. I made it through that, and I’m ready to grow.

I really like Leo Babauta’s idea to work on one change every month and I plan to do that myself. I made a list of areas I’d like to focus on growing on. They are:

• food
• exercise
• money: making, saving, organizing
• relationships
• compassion
• self-compassion
• mindfulness
• independence
• confidence
• productivity
• contentment
• communication
• skin
• going medication-free
• consistency
• non-attachment
• reading
• writing
• drawing

I’m only going to work on one per month–small goals ensure higher success rate. I’m likely to get less discouraged and quit when my focus is small and simple. There are more than 12 areas I’d like to focus on, so I won’t get to all of them this year. And rather than choose all 12 right now, I’ll pick the next month’s focus at the end of the current month.

For January, I’m going to focus on food–being more mindful during chewing, preparation, and selection. Choosing foods that make me feel good. Less sugar, more whole foods. That type o’ thing. Stay tuned for that, too. I’d like to post about each month’s endeavor.

My motivation for each month will be to feel good. Feeling good will help me make good decisions in relationships and business; I’ll enjoy them more deeply and be able to contribute more.

What do you want this year?

 

Recipe: Thai Eggplant

I’m really excited about and proud of this recipe. It’s super easy, super quick, and super tasty. I’ve been working on an organic farm this summer and have been really enjoying working with the veggies that are crazy fresh and in season. In this case, it’s even more awesome, because I remember planting these very eggplants just a couple months ago. There is something incredibly satisfying about eating food that you had a hand in producing.

In my beginning years of cooking, eggplant totally kicked my ass and baffled me at every step. But I learned the secret a couple years ago from my roommate when I was living in Berlin. And today I am stoked to share it with you.

Eggplant used to annoy me because it never seemed to be ready to eat when the rest of the vegetables in my stir fry were already wilting. It always remained semi-raw. And even if I continued cooking it, it would just soak up oil and soak up more oil and, even when it was seriously bursting with fat and oil, was still raw. I was confused.

Then one day my roommate Jenni used mostly water instead of oil, and, with a little patience, we found the tender, delicious texture we were looking for without all the oil that eggplant likes to soak up.

This opened the door to many eggplant dishes, and I’m excited to share this one with you. I’d love to hear from you if you end up makin’ it!

 

Thai Eggplant 

INGREDIENTS

1 large eggplant, chopped into 1-inch cubes

1 lb ground turkey

1.5 cups teriyaki sauce

3 tbsp bacon fat, olive oil, or butter

garlic salt and onion powder to taste

 

DIRECTIONS

Sauté ground turkey in a large wok until meat is browned. Add garlic salt and onion powder to taste. Remove turkey from wok and set aside, leaving any fat and juice remaining in the wok.

Without washing the wok (let’s save that turkey fat!), add the eggplant–which you can chop while browning the turkey. Coat with three tablespoons of your desired fat or oil. Mine is bacon grease.  Ooh, yum.

Season generously with garlic salt and onion powder. The salt draws out some moisture from this silly vegetable, which helps soften the eggplant to our desired consistency.

Sauté eggplant until moisture/oil has been absorbed, and right before the eggplant begins burning or sticking to the pan, add 1/2 cup of water. Repeat this as many times as necessary, until the eggplant is very soft. It’ll take around 5 repetitions throughout 20 minutes.

When the eggplant is tender, add the turkey back into the wok. Pour teriyaki sauce (I used Trader Joes’ Soyaki sauce) over turkey and eggplant. Stir, serve, and enjoy!

OPTIONS AND ADDITIONS

To make my photo pretty I added a few things. They turned out to taste pretty damn awesome together. You can add these too, but in the sake of simplicity (and because, let’s be honest, I’m probably just going to eat it solo out of the microwave for the entirety of this upcoming week), I left the recipe as basic as possible.

If you do choose to include my pictured additions, they are: roasted, lightly salted almonds (super great crunch aspect), sweet cherry tomatoes, butter-and-garlic sauteed green beans, and fresh basil.

 

 

Acupunctured

Today I tried acupuncture for the first time.

All I can say is: it was incredible.

I really didn’t know what to expect, but it’s been on my mind to try it for some time, and the idea of acupuncture has intrigued me for years. In fact, Eastern medicine in general has been on my peripheral vision for a long time and today my time to try it first hand finally came.

I’ve been working for a couple months now at a wellness-center and float tank hub called The Float Shoppe. One of the amazing people I work with is Ryan Gauthier, soon to be a Ryan Gauthier, PhD in acupuncture.

In the past months I have experienced a pretty intense amount of anxiety and depression (more on that later), and since I’ve been interested in acupuncture for a while, this seemed like the perfect time and place to take advantage of this new modality. Although I feel like I’m coming out of that low-energy phase, this definitely felt like an appropriate and helpful step in the right direction for me.

Ryan was amazing. For the first part of our session, we talked about my medical history. Unlike floating and massage, acupuncture is an actual medical procedure. Unlike going to the doctor, I actually felt like I was being listened to and heard. I wasn’t rushed, and Ryan made sure to thoroughly ask and talk through all concerns I had.

From what we talked about, he made his assessment and decided where it was best for me to have needles placed. I was nervous when it was time for the needles to go in, but Ryan assured me that it (mostly) wouldn’t hurt, and what helped me most was that he had me inhale and exhale with him as he inserted the needle. Knowing the prick was coming, to expect it on the exhale, and being guided by my knowledgeable friend made it a comfortable experience.

I had needles placed in the tops of my feet, my calves, my hands, wrists, arms, ears, and scalp. The only one that hurt was my left foot, but Ryan adjusted it and that too dissipated.

Lying on the massage table, heated from the inside, covered by a blanket, and with the air conditioner softly cooling from above, I found my first 20 minutes by myself really relaxing. Before Ryan left me alone, I asked him–“What should I think about?”

“Just listen to the music, and if you want something to focus on as you breathe, imagine sending light to the spot two inches below your belly button.”

“Is it ok if I fall asleep?” I asked.

“Yep, that’s fine.”

And with that, he was off. I felt comforted by the cool air, and after a full day working at the Float Shoppe, it was a stark contrast from activity to relaxation. I had taken off my glasses, and so my eyes too could relax. I watched the light bounce in through the yellow curtains and onto the ceiling. I looked at the Buddha painting to my right from the corner of my eye. I listened to the elevator music. The cliches of my Portlandian situation didn’t pass me by, but they also didn’t bother me. I quite enjoyed them, in fact.

I mostly felt grateful during that time. I felt grateful for the situation I was in that allowed me affordable access to this healing process. I felt grateful for Ryan taking the time. I felt grateful to my bosses for including me on this amazing team. I felt grateful for my coworkers for being who they are–lovely, inspiring people to be around. I felt grateful for my past, my parents, and the ability and opportunity to move past hurt and trauma. I thought about how my ancestors just two generations away laid on similar tables in the Holocaust and had completely opposite experiences to the comforting one I was given the opportunity to experience. I thought about one of my students in art class who confided in me that their home was an abusive environment–how grateful I was that he trusted me enough to tell me, and for the opportunity to get him the help he needs.  I wasn’t expecting to think about any of this, and I was happy that my mind and heart were open to it. Ryan told me before he left that feelings might come up, or that it might just be relaxing, and to be open to all of them. That was incredibly helpful.

Ryan came in to check on me and asked if I could do twenty more minutes lying still with the needles in. I said yes.

At that point I got a little bored and a little ancy, but I managed to relax again. I thought about nothing, I listened to my breathing, and then I started getting ideas for art I want to make, and for artist friends I’d like to see have their work inside the shop. I got excited.

After another 20 minutes, Ryan came back in and applied some essential oils to certain points on my body. He’d dab some on both his index fingers, apply them to symmetrical points on my body, and have me inhale and exhale deeply three times. I don’t know what happened but I started to feel really relaxed and zen-ed out, and I hardly replied when he told me he’d let me sit for another 10 minutes with the oils.

Right before he left, I laughed at something he did, though I can’t remember what it was, and after he closed the door I had a giant smile on my face. That smile turned into a giggle, which turned into a laughing fit that lasted a good 3 or 4 solid minutes. I realized I couldn’t really breathe so, in between giggles, I sucked in some air and slowly faded back from giggles into zen mode. I felt blissed out.

Ryan came back in and I felt giddy. He pulled the needles out, which hardly hurt or felt like anything. I bled very lightly from only a few of the needles. The only ones that hurt then were my ears. I was extremely giggly and really just wanted to stay in the bed and nap!

I told Ryan about my giggling fit. He said it was an emotional release. I said I could dig it. He said it might turn into tears. I said I’d be okay with that–crying feels good.

Returning to “the real world” felt surreal. I was in total giggle mode for half an hour afterwards, and a trip to the sushi restaurant across the street may have been the most fun I’ve ever had. I walked in and found to my delight that it was a rotating sushi place–one where the plates go around the whole place on a giant conveyer belt. All the brightly colored plates and ridiculousness of the situation made me laugh like hell. I imagine the waiter thought I was high, but I was having too much fun to care.

I felt overwhelmed with positive emotion.

Looking forward to seeing what’s next, and trying it again.

Have you had acupuncture and how was your experience?

– Mel

I’m Really Glad I Didn’t Die This Morning

This morning I had a bike accident.

I was riding my roommate’s single-speed Schwinn cruiser on my usual route to work because my bike got a flat this week.

As I started rolling down Interstate Ave, I pedaled as fast as I usually do. I realized after a moment that pedaling seemed to no longer have any effect on the bike. So, I pedaled backwards to see if that still triggered the bike’s brake system.

I quickly discovered, as I began my fast descent down one of the steepest hills in Portland,  that I no longer had functioning brakes.

In a split second, a dozen thoughts ran through my head. Having ridden this hill many times before, I knew what lay ahead. The hill would go on and my bike would only continue to gain momentum, and before the bottom, I’d reach an intersection. In the unlikely event that I’d reach the intersection without spinning out and losing control of the bike at such speeds anyways (I normally ride the hill with both my front and back brakes engaged to maintain control and a manageable speed), I’d have to get even luckier still and have a green light on my end, or collide head-on with the cross traffic.

I weighed the options in my head and made a split-second decision to cut my losses and veer out at the only opportunity I saw–I turned right into the a fenced driveway and braced myself for impact.

That part seemed to last for minutes. Then, BAM.

“OW. Ow. Owwwww.”

Imagine a bird who’s just slammed into a window. I was totally stunned for a few moments.

My first few thoughts were something like, “Ow. What just happened? Ow. Er… ow. Wait, what? I think I’m gonna be late for work. I wonder if I’m bleeding. Shit. Oh shit. Shit that hurts. Is my face bleeding? How am I going to get to work? I’m gonna have to buy my roomie a new bike. Ow.”

I tried to formulate a plan for what to do next but my brain was totally jostled and shocked, and for a few minutes, I couldn’t do much at all.

As I began to be able to take stock, I found that although my right hand was pretty scraped up and bloody, the rest of me seemed to be o.k. The bike looked fucked though–the handle bars were twisted a complete 90 degrees and now parallel with the frame.

I called my boss and squeaked out what happened, told him I’d be there as soon as I could. I managed to get the chain bike on, twist the handle bars back into place, and rode cautiously back home on the sidewalk.

I got home, washed up, had a piece of toast, and drove to work.

As I walked in to work, I was still under the impression that I was gonna have a normal day and get crackin’. The owners of my amazing workplace (a sensory deprivation “float” tank/massage/acupuncture center) were wiser.

They were eager to hear what happened, made sure my injuries weren’t serious, set me up with some anti-inflammatories, brought over their sweet kitty to keep me company, and instead of working, sent me upstairs to rest and rejuvenate in a float tank. If you’ve never heard of floating, you should definitely check it out. (Basically, it’s the closest you’ll ever get to having no sensory input–the tank is light and sound proof, and the water and air is the same temperature as your skin. The water you float on is full of epsom salt. It has TONS of benefits and I could go on for days about it and the company I work for, but we’ll save that for another post.)

As I lay in the dark absorbing the healing salty goodness, I mostly just felt grateful. I truly could have died this morning, and I am extremely grateful that I came away with just a few scrapes and bruises.

I felt grateful to be alive.

I’ve never had a bike or car accident before, or had a near-death experience. And usually in decision-making, I am slow and deliberate. I also analyze and over-think things. I take my time to make decisions. But this morning, I truly didn’t have time, I HAD to make a split-second life-or-death decision. And I chose right.

I felt grateful and empowered to be able to trust my self and my thinking in time-sensitive, life-sensitive scenarios. 

I’ve been working a lot on surrounding myself with people who inspire the shit out of me, who do good for themselves and the world.  I have already felt so lucky to join the team at my new job–my bosses created a really wonderful business/atmosphere/community that inspires growth, healing, and goodness all around. And today I felt especially cared about, and that was a magical, sappy feeling.

I felt grateful for the people in my life who I love and who love me.

I spent the day eating nourishing food, hanging out in the park watching kids play, indulging in ice cream, and talking to one of my very best friends.

Here’s to life.

WIld & Scenic

I designed the poster for Wild & Scenic’s first show ever. I know it’s gonna be awesome because I’ve been in the kitchen during a good dozen band practices downstairs in the basement. These guys are super talented.

I can’t really compare their sound to any one else’s because I don’t think they sound like any one else. I like to liken it to drinking whiskey in a log cabin with good friends and a fire.

Don’t take my word for it. Listen to them on soundcloud and come to the show. Good start bands too.

 

Twilight Room Annex

5242 N. Lombard Street, Portland OR

Friday May 10th

9:30 pm

Free

Boundless Kindness

Learning about boundless kindness. I made this poster to remind myself to truly wish others well.

“All joy in this world comes from wanting others to be happy, and all suffering in this world comes from wanting only oneself to be happy.”

Quote from a book I’ve been thoroughly enjoying called Buddha’s Brain: The Practical Neuroscience of Happiness, Love, & Wisdom.

 

 

Move & Play

What began as a list to remind me of exercises that I enjoy turned into a really fun hour, and something I thought might make you smile too. Here’s a quick and dirty peek into my secret notebook.  Let me know what you think.