Let's ignore for a moment that it's been almost 5 months. After I explain, of course, that in the last five months I've graduated with my Masters, traveled to Peru (sans internet), found out Mr. K and I are expecting a little bundle of giggles in February, moved into a new apartment outside the big city and gotten a promotion at work.
Now on to the post I'd planned to write...
Last week we were in CO for the SIL's wedding-- a big fest of family togetherness and fun. As we left on a Thursday, our farm veggies (which come on Thursday) were not picked up. Not to worry, they don't go to waste-- they were donated. But, this does mean that we don't have the plethora of farm fresh vegetables to work with this week. I'm also not keen on heading to the store because a) I'm too tired (see intro to post above, point 3), b) I'm being stingy and want to save on groceries, and c) sometimes not being able to go to the store and buy a few ingredients leads to creative new dishes...like Spicy Jalapeno Corn Soup. YUM!
To begin with, I had leftover corncobs from last week (when I got fresh corn in the food share, and then supplemented with a few ears of corn on sale at the grocery store for my enchilada casserole dinner party), and I kept them because a friend had sent me something similar to this article and this one. I figured, hey..."I could make stock with this." Which is kind of funny, since I have no clue how to make stock. But then my coworker searched "corn cob stock" on the fabulous google, and found this. Of course, I was missing half of the ingredients, but this didn't stop me. I loosely followed it, threw in some stuff I had in the freezer and pantry and voila! Dinner on a weeknight.
Step 1: Corn Stock
note- you could probably just use veggie stalk or stock powder/cubes instead of making your own. that's probably what I would do if I didn't have 7 corncobs chillin' in my fridge.
7-8 corncobs (kernels removed)
dusting of dried thyme (I probably used 1/2 T)
dusting of cracked peppercorns
salt to taste
enough water to cover the cobs
tops of about 6 celery stalks with leaves (I had these in the fridge, leftover)
Throw corncobs in the pot, cover with water. Add thyme, peppercorns and celery (no chopping!) and bring to a gentle boil. Once it boils, reduce heat to about medium to keep it simmering and add some salt (go heavier than you would think). Let simmer no more than 40 minutes.
Remove the vegetable pieces.
Step 2: Jalapeno Corn Soup
Veggie stock (as above, or your own favorite)
5 Jalapenos, chopped
2 bags of frozen corn
1/2 block of tofu (I use extra firm, but silken or firm would work here too)
1 can of enchilada sauce (I use Old El Paso)
Salt to taste
note: I added some chili powder which made it TOO spicy. I would omit this if I made it again. Mr K and I worked up a sweat getting through dinner, and had to finish it off with a cold class of milk.
Add jalapenos and corn to pot. Bring back to a simmer. Add tofu and bring to a simmer again. Season with salt. Add chili powder for more spice if you want it. Add in enchilada sauce. Let simmer 5-10 minutes.
Using an immersion blender, blend! (You can use a blender if you have one [I don't], but be extra careful! the soup is HOT...and not just in the spicy way). Turn the heat down and let the soup cool a bit. It will be a little pulpy and will have a strong corn flavor. Yum!
I served mine with some homemade tortilla chips (cut corn tortillas in strips, coat lightly in olive oil, sprinkle with salt and pepper and broil in the oven until toasty--just make sure your fire alarm doesn't go off), but I was wishing for a little greek yogurt to cut the spice and add some creaminess, (sour cream would be a nice addition too, but isn't as healthy). I can also see this "soup" being a great sauce for vegetables...maybe over rice? Or with beans?
Enjoy!
Wednesday, September 21, 2011
Thursday, April 21, 2011
All or Nothing...or Something Like That
As a perfectionist, I tend to have this issue with going "all in" and then discouraging myself when I have "off days" or especially "off weeks."
The rational part of my brain likes to think that one can identify as, say, a yogini and still have days or weeks where finding time to come to the mat or go to class just doesn't happen. Or days when health prevents one from practicing. Then a little voice comes into my head and says "no, you just practice with your body's needs in mind...if your tummy hurts, find poses that feel good and do them." And I listen to this, except when the other little voice in my brain comes in and says "yea, but your body is also telling you it wants to be curled up on the couch in sweats, drinking tea and resting."
And this presents a very real problem, because part of practicing yoga is learning to listen to one's body and to be mindful of what it needs. We don't move into pain, we don't judge or praise our practice. We experience the moment and let it be. So if I'm listening to my body and it says "sharp stomach pains, queasiness and general malaise," then perhaps I should really just go home and rest. But what if my body is really saying that it's depressed or experiencing the physical manifestation of anxiety or stress, and a good relaxing class that gets me out of my head is exactly what my body needs to overcome my stomach ailments?
I came to this circular and frustrating argument of who to trust and listen to and to what extent in what circumstance after a minor dilemma yesterday.
As I'm sure you haven't been able to miss, I've been vegan for about a month now. I slipped up the weekend of my speech in Framingham at the Rotary conference, and paid the price. I must have a short memory because this incident did not stop me from indulging in cheese at an office meeting. You see, we had guests from Taiwan who are here to learn about how we work in our IRB, and my boss thought it would be great to have some pizza on their first day in town. Great idea!
Except that pizza has cheese. And not only that, but pizza tastes good. And before you taste how good the pizza is, you can smell it...and those magic molecules in the melty cheese make my tummy hungry for cheeeeese. So I indulged. This was also a bit of a conscious decision not entirely motivated by a chemical reaction inside me to the smell of melty pizza cheese. It was a decision that also related to my not wanting to make a vegan scene in the office in front of our guests. I also wasn't up for explaining myself or eating lettuce for lunch. Perhaps this is far too much rationalization, but I had the least cheesy piece I could find and ate.
And then my digestive system decided to revolt. We'll leave it at that, but I certainly did not feel fantastic, and my motivation to avoid cheese and all things dairy has increased. Now, whether this is a real lactose intolerance or a new sensitivity (my reading and chatting with folks studying nutrition suggests that all adults start to lose their ability to digest dairy as they age. So there it is, I must be aging), doesn't actually matter to me. What matters to me is that when I eat dairy, my tummy hurts. When I avoid dairy, my tummy is happy.
So there is an example of me listening to my body. This is good. I'm responding to pain and other cues that tell me how to give my body what it needs to feel and function it's best. Go go body-mind connection!
But then there's the fact that I'm not going to yoga today. And I didn't go yesterday. Or the day before that, or the day before that. (4 days now, sans asanas). I could sit here and explain to you the rationalization that bounced through my brain as I carefully walked to the train (I was fairly convinced I might throw up). And in fact, I will...just to provide an example of how intensely I considered whether to go to class or not.
On saturday we were apartment hunting (more on that later), and then went to visit friends and family all over MA. On Sunday I had my bodywork appointment and felt so out of it from this medication I'm working with, that I went home to rest. Sunday, more of the need to rest due to queasiness and dizziness (my assumption is that feeling like I'm going to vomit or fall over is not going to lead to productive yoga). But oh there it is! Productive yoga!!?? What is that??!! And why am I thinking that way? Shouldn't yoga just be? Without needing to be productive?
And so I skipped yoga recently. I feel guilty about it. And why? Because I bought an unlimited monthly pass and fancy myself dedicated to it in a daily sense? Because I have identified myself as someone doing yoga? And I'm somehow a phony if I miss a few days? But aren't I supposed to listen to my body? And if my body says "I feel like crap," shouldn't I listen and rest? Or is that somehow a false representation of my body? Some crazy inner voice that lies and leads me astray?
But as I spoke about with Mr. K this morning, the choice to do more yoga goes deeper than the purchase of a pass. I chose to stop taking a medication with the hopes that I could mediate the symptoms with a combination of yoga and meditation. The medication is messing with my body (I am fairly convinced it's the reason that despite an entire lent as a fairly strict vegan, and several days of walking and many hours of vinyasa per week I've only managed to lose 2.5 of the 25lbs I need/want to lose. And then there are other things) and I don't want my body messed with anymore. But I still have a need to manage symptoms. Of course, I can't manage them if I give in to the desire to curl up and ignore the world every day. Nor if I let myself get so busy that I no longer have time to take care of myself, something I am certainly prone to do.
I wish I had a wonderful resolution to this internal drive toward diving all in or staying completely out. I wish I could find the ability to float in that middle ground grey world where I can accept times of less dedication as what they are, and move past them without attaching such weighty words of judgement. For now, I'm just in jumping back and forth between black and white, and gosh, I could really use a nap.
The rational part of my brain likes to think that one can identify as, say, a yogini and still have days or weeks where finding time to come to the mat or go to class just doesn't happen. Or days when health prevents one from practicing. Then a little voice comes into my head and says "no, you just practice with your body's needs in mind...if your tummy hurts, find poses that feel good and do them." And I listen to this, except when the other little voice in my brain comes in and says "yea, but your body is also telling you it wants to be curled up on the couch in sweats, drinking tea and resting."
And this presents a very real problem, because part of practicing yoga is learning to listen to one's body and to be mindful of what it needs. We don't move into pain, we don't judge or praise our practice. We experience the moment and let it be. So if I'm listening to my body and it says "sharp stomach pains, queasiness and general malaise," then perhaps I should really just go home and rest. But what if my body is really saying that it's depressed or experiencing the physical manifestation of anxiety or stress, and a good relaxing class that gets me out of my head is exactly what my body needs to overcome my stomach ailments?
I came to this circular and frustrating argument of who to trust and listen to and to what extent in what circumstance after a minor dilemma yesterday.
As I'm sure you haven't been able to miss, I've been vegan for about a month now. I slipped up the weekend of my speech in Framingham at the Rotary conference, and paid the price. I must have a short memory because this incident did not stop me from indulging in cheese at an office meeting. You see, we had guests from Taiwan who are here to learn about how we work in our IRB, and my boss thought it would be great to have some pizza on their first day in town. Great idea!
Except that pizza has cheese. And not only that, but pizza tastes good. And before you taste how good the pizza is, you can smell it...and those magic molecules in the melty cheese make my tummy hungry for cheeeeese. So I indulged. This was also a bit of a conscious decision not entirely motivated by a chemical reaction inside me to the smell of melty pizza cheese. It was a decision that also related to my not wanting to make a vegan scene in the office in front of our guests. I also wasn't up for explaining myself or eating lettuce for lunch. Perhaps this is far too much rationalization, but I had the least cheesy piece I could find and ate.
And then my digestive system decided to revolt. We'll leave it at that, but I certainly did not feel fantastic, and my motivation to avoid cheese and all things dairy has increased. Now, whether this is a real lactose intolerance or a new sensitivity (my reading and chatting with folks studying nutrition suggests that all adults start to lose their ability to digest dairy as they age. So there it is, I must be aging), doesn't actually matter to me. What matters to me is that when I eat dairy, my tummy hurts. When I avoid dairy, my tummy is happy.
So there is an example of me listening to my body. This is good. I'm responding to pain and other cues that tell me how to give my body what it needs to feel and function it's best. Go go body-mind connection!
But then there's the fact that I'm not going to yoga today. And I didn't go yesterday. Or the day before that, or the day before that. (4 days now, sans asanas). I could sit here and explain to you the rationalization that bounced through my brain as I carefully walked to the train (I was fairly convinced I might throw up). And in fact, I will...just to provide an example of how intensely I considered whether to go to class or not.
On saturday we were apartment hunting (more on that later), and then went to visit friends and family all over MA. On Sunday I had my bodywork appointment and felt so out of it from this medication I'm working with, that I went home to rest. Sunday, more of the need to rest due to queasiness and dizziness (my assumption is that feeling like I'm going to vomit or fall over is not going to lead to productive yoga). But oh there it is! Productive yoga!!?? What is that??!! And why am I thinking that way? Shouldn't yoga just be? Without needing to be productive?
And so I skipped yoga recently. I feel guilty about it. And why? Because I bought an unlimited monthly pass and fancy myself dedicated to it in a daily sense? Because I have identified myself as someone doing yoga? And I'm somehow a phony if I miss a few days? But aren't I supposed to listen to my body? And if my body says "I feel like crap," shouldn't I listen and rest? Or is that somehow a false representation of my body? Some crazy inner voice that lies and leads me astray?
But as I spoke about with Mr. K this morning, the choice to do more yoga goes deeper than the purchase of a pass. I chose to stop taking a medication with the hopes that I could mediate the symptoms with a combination of yoga and meditation. The medication is messing with my body (I am fairly convinced it's the reason that despite an entire lent as a fairly strict vegan, and several days of walking and many hours of vinyasa per week I've only managed to lose 2.5 of the 25lbs I need/want to lose. And then there are other things) and I don't want my body messed with anymore. But I still have a need to manage symptoms. Of course, I can't manage them if I give in to the desire to curl up and ignore the world every day. Nor if I let myself get so busy that I no longer have time to take care of myself, something I am certainly prone to do.
I wish I had a wonderful resolution to this internal drive toward diving all in or staying completely out. I wish I could find the ability to float in that middle ground grey world where I can accept times of less dedication as what they are, and move past them without attaching such weighty words of judgement. For now, I'm just in jumping back and forth between black and white, and gosh, I could really use a nap.
And this is the scary part about having a blog
Actually...the really, really scary part is what people will say when you put your thoughts out there in the great wide expanse of Internet world, where people are free to insult without having to face the consequences of their comments.
But the other (slightly less) scary thing is the weeks or days between blog posts, when you lose your steam, have little time or hit a wall with writer's block. Somehow it makes the blog feel less real...only amateurs forget to write, or don't write, or have long expanses between their writing! To avoid this, I could have set myself up to write less often, but then I would have missed out on many a post I enjoyed writing.
Alas, here I am, re-entering my world of blog posting now that I'm back from Seattle, done with my crunch to get a draft of my graduate papers turned in to my advisor, and feeling more balanced in general. Finally I'm finding the time to put keystroke to computer screen, and hopefully you're happy I'm doing so!
I think today's post should focus a little on the Vegan for Lent experiment, particularly considering that I'm in the last few days of the journey. Specifically, I have 63 hours left (assuming I stop being vegan at midnight between Saturday and Easter). If we take out the hours I plan to sleep (as then I'm not thinking about what I'm eating), I really have 45 waking hours of conscious veganism left. Not that I'm counting or anything crazy like that.
Over the past 2-ish months, I've had 2 slip-ups (that I was aware of). The first being my first weekend of veganism when I was at the Rotary conference and binged on half a round of boursin, which did not end up well for my digestive system. Let's just say, my tummy hurt. The second occurred on my recent trip to Seattle, when my brother-in-law rallied himself from the depths of what must be the worst cold/flu/fever/cough combo known to man to fire up the pizza oven he made with his own blood, sweat and tears and grilled up what must be the best pizza known to man. How could a girl turn that down? I did turn down the prosciutto pizza, but I indulged in the veggie pizzas despite the ooey gooey mounds of fresh mozzarella dotted all over the surface like little oases in a desert of yum. I do not regret this lapse. My soul is better for it.
So then, what happens on Easter? Assuming I find the time (this is not given, as Mr. K and I have a full schedule of apartments all over MA to view, as we are considering moving), I was planning to make a bread that my dad always made for Easter. It's an enriched bread (read: contains egg), dotted with squares of grueyere cheese that melt into little holes of amazingness and give the bread a holey-cheese filled appearance that warrants the nickname "swiss cheese braid." Oh yea...it's braided too. The whole loaf is quite a sight, and I do love it.
But as I type that sentence, I'm not sure how I feel about buying eggs. Even before I was a vegetarian (much less a vegan) I felt weird about eggs. I hate the way raw eggs smell. I can only eat them when they are scrambled or poached or cooked in things, only with several other items that also have strong flavors. On more than one occasion I've spent an hour or so baking up a quiche for Mr. K and I, only to end up eating salad because the thought of eating egg makes me queasy. As such, I think I might just continue not using eggs. This will be sad for some baking purposes, but I think I can work around it, and I'll give myself the flexibility to indulge once in awhile for holidays and such.
Butter is another tricky spot. Mr. K really likes the vegan "butter" we got for this experiment, and I've found it works just fine in baking. I may therefore also stop buying "real butter."
Milk is something that I have happily replaced with soymilk, which has been a real treat for me as I actually like soymilk better. Come Sunday, milk will make a reappearance in our abode, however, as Mr. K misses it for his cereal and coffee.
Cheese and yogurt: While I LOVE these foods, I have also noticed that I feel a LOT better when I don't eat them. As such, they will likely continue to ride in the back seat of my cooking convertable, making an appearance on rare or special occasions. It will also be a relief to have them as options when I am eating out of the home, as it is really, really hard to avoid milk, eggs, butter, cheese and yogurt in public (I'd like to see that change, as it's just silly). So it looks like I'm going to be a loosey-goosey-veganish vegetarian come Sunday. yahoo!
A treat that I will continue to love? Toasted whole wheat everything bagel with veggie tofu spread and tomatoes. Best. Breakfast. Ever.
But the other (slightly less) scary thing is the weeks or days between blog posts, when you lose your steam, have little time or hit a wall with writer's block. Somehow it makes the blog feel less real...only amateurs forget to write, or don't write, or have long expanses between their writing! To avoid this, I could have set myself up to write less often, but then I would have missed out on many a post I enjoyed writing.
Alas, here I am, re-entering my world of blog posting now that I'm back from Seattle, done with my crunch to get a draft of my graduate papers turned in to my advisor, and feeling more balanced in general. Finally I'm finding the time to put keystroke to computer screen, and hopefully you're happy I'm doing so!
I think today's post should focus a little on the Vegan for Lent experiment, particularly considering that I'm in the last few days of the journey. Specifically, I have 63 hours left (assuming I stop being vegan at midnight between Saturday and Easter). If we take out the hours I plan to sleep (as then I'm not thinking about what I'm eating), I really have 45 waking hours of conscious veganism left. Not that I'm counting or anything crazy like that.
Over the past 2-ish months, I've had 2 slip-ups (that I was aware of). The first being my first weekend of veganism when I was at the Rotary conference and binged on half a round of boursin, which did not end up well for my digestive system. Let's just say, my tummy hurt. The second occurred on my recent trip to Seattle, when my brother-in-law rallied himself from the depths of what must be the worst cold/flu/fever/cough combo known to man to fire up the pizza oven he made with his own blood, sweat and tears and grilled up what must be the best pizza known to man. How could a girl turn that down? I did turn down the prosciutto pizza, but I indulged in the veggie pizzas despite the ooey gooey mounds of fresh mozzarella dotted all over the surface like little oases in a desert of yum. I do not regret this lapse. My soul is better for it.
So then, what happens on Easter? Assuming I find the time (this is not given, as Mr. K and I have a full schedule of apartments all over MA to view, as we are considering moving), I was planning to make a bread that my dad always made for Easter. It's an enriched bread (read: contains egg), dotted with squares of grueyere cheese that melt into little holes of amazingness and give the bread a holey-cheese filled appearance that warrants the nickname "swiss cheese braid." Oh yea...it's braided too. The whole loaf is quite a sight, and I do love it.
But as I type that sentence, I'm not sure how I feel about buying eggs. Even before I was a vegetarian (much less a vegan) I felt weird about eggs. I hate the way raw eggs smell. I can only eat them when they are scrambled or poached or cooked in things, only with several other items that also have strong flavors. On more than one occasion I've spent an hour or so baking up a quiche for Mr. K and I, only to end up eating salad because the thought of eating egg makes me queasy. As such, I think I might just continue not using eggs. This will be sad for some baking purposes, but I think I can work around it, and I'll give myself the flexibility to indulge once in awhile for holidays and such.
Butter is another tricky spot. Mr. K really likes the vegan "butter" we got for this experiment, and I've found it works just fine in baking. I may therefore also stop buying "real butter."
Milk is something that I have happily replaced with soymilk, which has been a real treat for me as I actually like soymilk better. Come Sunday, milk will make a reappearance in our abode, however, as Mr. K misses it for his cereal and coffee.
Cheese and yogurt: While I LOVE these foods, I have also noticed that I feel a LOT better when I don't eat them. As such, they will likely continue to ride in the back seat of my cooking convertable, making an appearance on rare or special occasions. It will also be a relief to have them as options when I am eating out of the home, as it is really, really hard to avoid milk, eggs, butter, cheese and yogurt in public (I'd like to see that change, as it's just silly). So it looks like I'm going to be a loosey-goosey-veganish vegetarian come Sunday. yahoo!
A treat that I will continue to love? Toasted whole wheat everything bagel with veggie tofu spread and tomatoes. Best. Breakfast. Ever.
Wednesday, April 6, 2011
Sometimes ya just want some pasta
Last night I had an amazing back to back set of two yoga classes. I started with Forrest Yoga, where I eased myself into several poses held for a long time, really pushing my legs and back and getting stronger. Then I hopped up into Hip Hop Yoga, a vinyasa flow class that was hot, sweaty and powerful. I totally got in my zone and felt so amazing when I got home.
So amazing, in fact, that I fell asleep curled up on the couch under a few blankets. I woke only when Karl came home and urged me to head to bed. Oops!
Sadly, I woke up in the morning still tired. Super tired. And I stayed tired throughout the day. And then my shoulder was hurting. I still made it to Forrest Yoga after work today, where I was super duper gentle with my shoulder. It was a perfectly restful practice and exactly what my body was craving.
And when I got home, all I could think of was how much I wanted a big bowl of tasty pasta. So I made this:
Katie's "Sometimes You Just Want Pasta" Pasta
1 leek, sliced and chopped
1 package fresh mushroom, sliced
2 roma tomatoes, chopped
1/3 bag of frozen spinach
1 spoonful of crushed garlic
splash of olive oil
half package of tofu
1/4c. balsamic vinegar (or white vinegar)
salt, pepper, chili powder to taste
3-4 servings of pasta, cooked (I used fusilli)
heat oil in a large pan, add in leeks.
add in the mushrooms, let them sweat and shrink.
toss in the tomatoes, spinach, tofu and garlic. let it cook for about 5 min or until it looks tasty.
Add in your spices to taste and the pasta. Mix together and let cook for a minute or two. Taste and adjust spices. Add vinegar.
Enjoy!
So amazing, in fact, that I fell asleep curled up on the couch under a few blankets. I woke only when Karl came home and urged me to head to bed. Oops!
Sadly, I woke up in the morning still tired. Super tired. And I stayed tired throughout the day. And then my shoulder was hurting. I still made it to Forrest Yoga after work today, where I was super duper gentle with my shoulder. It was a perfectly restful practice and exactly what my body was craving.
And when I got home, all I could think of was how much I wanted a big bowl of tasty pasta. So I made this:
Katie's "Sometimes You Just Want Pasta" Pasta
1 leek, sliced and chopped
1 package fresh mushroom, sliced
2 roma tomatoes, chopped
1/3 bag of frozen spinach
1 spoonful of crushed garlic
splash of olive oil
half package of tofu
1/4c. balsamic vinegar (or white vinegar)
salt, pepper, chili powder to taste
3-4 servings of pasta, cooked (I used fusilli)
heat oil in a large pan, add in leeks.
add in the mushrooms, let them sweat and shrink.
toss in the tomatoes, spinach, tofu and garlic. let it cook for about 5 min or until it looks tasty.
Add in your spices to taste and the pasta. Mix together and let cook for a minute or two. Taste and adjust spices. Add vinegar.
Enjoy!
Tuesday, April 5, 2011
Reflections
Last week I had what I will now refer to as a "wake up call". I was given some feedback that left me hurt, a good bit of which I attribute to my own baggage, but a good bit of which really clarified for me some things about myself, my goals, and the environment in which I'm most effective.
I had the good fortune yesterday to meet with a mentor and friend to discuss what happened. I was surprised when she suggested I might consider changing my situation, looking for something else. And then we started talking, and she was asking about whether this aspect of my life really provided me with any benefit; am I putting myself through this situation for a purpose, or not? Is it serving me?
Is the pay great? no. Is the commute great? no. Is there anyone from whom I could learn a great deal? not really. Is the topic one of my passions? not really. Is there some skill or lesson that I could learn? not really.
So then why am I here? And I think the real answer is that I'm afraid. I'm afraid to follow my dreams and pursue what is really important to me because it might be non-traditional. I think I've also been confused about what is important to me.
After speaking to my mentor, I sent Mr. K an email asking what he thought of me signing up for a Doula workshop (there is one this weekend, but after talking about it I realize there are a few things going on this weekend that I can't miss, so it's not going to work this month...there is another workshop in October, however. in fact, it starts on my birthday). He said that I've been talking about medical advocacy, rape crisis victim support/advocacy and pregnancy/child birth/labor advocacy and support for a long time. He's right. I really have. For at least about 2 years now, if not longer. And in thinking about that, I'm remembering back to a session at our church nearly 3 years ago that dealt with strengths. I learned that I am strategic, but I'm primarily a developer.
From the book
Developer: "People strong in the Developer theme recognize and cultivate the potential in others. They spot the signs of each small improvement and derive satisfaction from these improvements."
Strategic: "People strong in the Strategic theme create alternative ways to proceed. Faced with any given scenario, they can quickly spot the relevant patterns and issues."
I hadn't even been thinking about these things when I wrote up my profile for the Kisa program through AfricAid. Let me pause real quick to explain that.
A few week weeks ago I got a call from my MIL, telling me that she thought of me as an inspiring person and wanted to give me something that would inspire me and give me the opportunity to further inspire others. I was humbled by this and turned bright red (which she definitely did not see since we were on the phone). She then told me that she was "giving me a kisa scholar," which we giggled about because it just sounded wrong no matter how we tried to describe it. :)
Basically, she signed me up with the Kisa program so that a scholar in Tanzania (a girl with leadership potential who will get extra education and a chance to become a leader in her community) will be matched with me. We have pages on the Kisa site which is sort of like facebook, but only for those involved. We can then stay in touch and develop a relationship with one another, sharing our dreams and goals and experiences. How exciting!!!
So I was filling out my "info page" today, and without putting too much thought into it, the following spilled onto the page under the heading "about me:"
I'm finishing up my last year of graduate study in maternal and child health. I'm really interested in pregnancy and childbirth, and empowering women to take charge of their bodies and make informed decisions.
Then I wrote the following for "my hopes for the future":
I would like to work for myself eventually, teaching childbirth education classes and being a labor assistant or doula for women. Women's health advocacy and patient advocacy are important to me, and I plan to work on changing our health systems to better address women's needs. I also want to start a family with my husband and continue to travel throughout the world!
Then I sat back and read those words to myself. Yea. That's it. That's my elevator speech of what I want to do with my degree, and where I want to take my next steps in my life. It's amazing when all of the little hints and pushes and inklings come together like that.
Now to make it happen...
I had the good fortune yesterday to meet with a mentor and friend to discuss what happened. I was surprised when she suggested I might consider changing my situation, looking for something else. And then we started talking, and she was asking about whether this aspect of my life really provided me with any benefit; am I putting myself through this situation for a purpose, or not? Is it serving me?
Is the pay great? no. Is the commute great? no. Is there anyone from whom I could learn a great deal? not really. Is the topic one of my passions? not really. Is there some skill or lesson that I could learn? not really.
So then why am I here? And I think the real answer is that I'm afraid. I'm afraid to follow my dreams and pursue what is really important to me because it might be non-traditional. I think I've also been confused about what is important to me.
After speaking to my mentor, I sent Mr. K an email asking what he thought of me signing up for a Doula workshop (there is one this weekend, but after talking about it I realize there are a few things going on this weekend that I can't miss, so it's not going to work this month...there is another workshop in October, however. in fact, it starts on my birthday). He said that I've been talking about medical advocacy, rape crisis victim support/advocacy and pregnancy/child birth/labor advocacy and support for a long time. He's right. I really have. For at least about 2 years now, if not longer. And in thinking about that, I'm remembering back to a session at our church nearly 3 years ago that dealt with strengths. I learned that I am strategic, but I'm primarily a developer.
From the book
Developer: "People strong in the Developer theme recognize and cultivate the potential in others. They spot the signs of each small improvement and derive satisfaction from these improvements."
Strategic: "People strong in the Strategic theme create alternative ways to proceed. Faced with any given scenario, they can quickly spot the relevant patterns and issues."
I hadn't even been thinking about these things when I wrote up my profile for the Kisa program through AfricAid. Let me pause real quick to explain that.
A few week weeks ago I got a call from my MIL, telling me that she thought of me as an inspiring person and wanted to give me something that would inspire me and give me the opportunity to further inspire others. I was humbled by this and turned bright red (which she definitely did not see since we were on the phone). She then told me that she was "giving me a kisa scholar," which we giggled about because it just sounded wrong no matter how we tried to describe it. :)
Basically, she signed me up with the Kisa program so that a scholar in Tanzania (a girl with leadership potential who will get extra education and a chance to become a leader in her community) will be matched with me. We have pages on the Kisa site which is sort of like facebook, but only for those involved. We can then stay in touch and develop a relationship with one another, sharing our dreams and goals and experiences. How exciting!!!
So I was filling out my "info page" today, and without putting too much thought into it, the following spilled onto the page under the heading "about me:"
I'm finishing up my last year of graduate study in maternal and child health. I'm really interested in pregnancy and childbirth, and empowering women to take charge of their bodies and make informed decisions.
Then I wrote the following for "my hopes for the future":
I would like to work for myself eventually, teaching childbirth education classes and being a labor assistant or doula for women. Women's health advocacy and patient advocacy are important to me, and I plan to work on changing our health systems to better address women's needs. I also want to start a family with my husband and continue to travel throughout the world!
Then I sat back and read those words to myself. Yea. That's it. That's my elevator speech of what I want to do with my degree, and where I want to take my next steps in my life. It's amazing when all of the little hints and pushes and inklings come together like that.
Now to make it happen...
Sunday, April 3, 2011
Vegan Experiment: Day 26 of 47
After counting up those days, it's kind of cool to see that I'm more than half way! And I'm still alive! And most of my cravings for animal filled products have subsided.I'd be lying if I said there weren't tempting moments that totally caught me off guard. I've also become a much bigger fan of super dark chocolate than I ever thought I'd be (it's only vegan if it's >70% cocoa).
I also do miss cheese, but only really in the sense that I miss favorite dishes that usually contain cheese--like cheese enchiladas, grilled cheese sandwiches, mac and cheese made from scratch and baked to perfection. Egg and cheese sandwiches on an everything bagel. mmmm.
A friend pointed out that someone she knew had tried to be vegan, finding it easy until you step outside. I completely agree! I have become even more intense about reading nutrition labels than I was before (Just ask Mr. K, I used to drive him nuts by reading labels in the supermarket).
Going to restaurants is an interesting challenge, trying to find something that gives my body what it needs, but doesn't contain accidental traces of animal. I'm sure that I am consuming non-vegan items unwittingly, but I refuse to worry myself over that. I am doing the best I can with the information that I have.
That being said, I still prefer to cook for myself, and this weekend has been a fun food experiment!
Friday night we had Kale and White Bean Soup with some day old Broa (recipe from Artisan Bread in Five Minutes a Day
) and then Mr. K and I baked a Raspberry Jam Swirl Crumbcake from Post Punk Kitchen, and today I whipped up a Mac and No Cheese for some lunch guests (who, though admittedly into meat eating, devoured it!). Yum.
I should note that the pureed white beans with sauteed onions, celery and garlic would make an excellent dip for chips and veggies. In fact, this may make an appearance alongside some flatbread for my graduation open house (May 21st! Don't miss it!).
Friday, April 1, 2011
Little things get me through!
Today I am feeling a little raw from a spat of poorly executed constructive criticism that happened to hit the biggest trigger for my anxiety and depression, which left me a puddle in the office and involved some hyperventilation and a lot of tears. This was certainly not my finest moment, but I am determined (as I'm on this path of personal growth and finding my way), to see the positive and find some lessons.
Right now, those lessons are a bit blurry and I'm certainly wishing I could just read the spark notes, take the quiz and get my passing grade. Sadly, that's not an option.
But rather than dwelling on the emotion and allowing myself to sink back into the panic and negativity I felt yesterday, I'm choosing today to focus on some major positives. And I hope you'll see that all those teensy tiny things you do really make a difference (sometimes a profound one), even when you don't expect it to.
Newspaper Man
The other day I came to the top of the stairs at the T stop where newspaper man brings cheer each morning, and was greeted more personally than usual. Fewer people were milling about, so he leaned in to say "You know, girl, I love you!" This was not creepy, as I actually feel much the same way, in that "we're both humans and we enjoy the friendly greeting and joy of the other" type platonic human way. And then I said I needed to know his name. He is Glen, and we shook hands as he sent me on my way, wishing me a happy day.
He has also noticed that I am working out now (I carry my yoga mat with me on my commute, in a super nerdy yogi way). And he tells me I'm beautiful and calls me sunshine and darling, and I honestly smile every time I see him. What I love about this daily interaction is that neither of us were bashful about sharing some joy and greeting, and I think we both enjoy our days more as a result. So cheap, so easy, so rewarding.
Yoga Diva of Hip Hop Fame
I have started devoting more of my physical time to yoga (I've gone nearly every day for at least 1.5hrs/day over the last week and a half, and my body is SO HAPPY). I've already noticed that some of the tension in my shoulder that has remained from/is my injury (the one that has kept me out of the pool/lake/ocean for nearly a year now) is going away. This is huge progress! And I can still move and work on my hip which is also a smidge wonky, and work on my breathing and posture and happiness and the idea of introspection and personal growth.
Part of the reason I started this path was because I found a teacher at a studio close to home, who encouraged me to visit her home studio (near my work, where I just signed up for membership). She teaches Hip Hop Yoga, and is honestly an inspiration to me! She always reminds us to be greatful to ourselves that we made it to the mat, to thank our bodies for our practice (which helps me to build a kinder relationship with my body), and to accept our practice, poses and selves without judgement and without praise.
I've written about that "no judgement, no praise" mantra before. But today it takes a new meaning. I'm trying not to judge myself for how I reacted yesterday, or for how easy on myself I was in my practice at Hip Hop last night (it's usually very upbeat and full of powerful flow, and I spent a long time in child's pose fighting back tears). Well, last night I barely made it to practice (I cried the whole way there, and was sort of scared to walk into the studio with tears and such), but I am so glad I did. She played a song I sent her, and it was a total surprise and made me smile. That smile got me through the rest of the night.
There are many other little things that have pleasantly caught me off guard lately, though for brevity (something I clearly need to work on, given the length of some of my posts...yikes!) I'll leave it at these two, a cheerful hello and a special song.
Right now, those lessons are a bit blurry and I'm certainly wishing I could just read the spark notes, take the quiz and get my passing grade. Sadly, that's not an option.
But rather than dwelling on the emotion and allowing myself to sink back into the panic and negativity I felt yesterday, I'm choosing today to focus on some major positives. And I hope you'll see that all those teensy tiny things you do really make a difference (sometimes a profound one), even when you don't expect it to.
Newspaper Man
The other day I came to the top of the stairs at the T stop where newspaper man brings cheer each morning, and was greeted more personally than usual. Fewer people were milling about, so he leaned in to say "You know, girl, I love you!" This was not creepy, as I actually feel much the same way, in that "we're both humans and we enjoy the friendly greeting and joy of the other" type platonic human way. And then I said I needed to know his name. He is Glen, and we shook hands as he sent me on my way, wishing me a happy day.
He has also noticed that I am working out now (I carry my yoga mat with me on my commute, in a super nerdy yogi way). And he tells me I'm beautiful and calls me sunshine and darling, and I honestly smile every time I see him. What I love about this daily interaction is that neither of us were bashful about sharing some joy and greeting, and I think we both enjoy our days more as a result. So cheap, so easy, so rewarding.
Yoga Diva of Hip Hop Fame
I have started devoting more of my physical time to yoga (I've gone nearly every day for at least 1.5hrs/day over the last week and a half, and my body is SO HAPPY). I've already noticed that some of the tension in my shoulder that has remained from/is my injury (the one that has kept me out of the pool/lake/ocean for nearly a year now) is going away. This is huge progress! And I can still move and work on my hip which is also a smidge wonky, and work on my breathing and posture and happiness and the idea of introspection and personal growth.
Part of the reason I started this path was because I found a teacher at a studio close to home, who encouraged me to visit her home studio (near my work, where I just signed up for membership). She teaches Hip Hop Yoga, and is honestly an inspiration to me! She always reminds us to be greatful to ourselves that we made it to the mat, to thank our bodies for our practice (which helps me to build a kinder relationship with my body), and to accept our practice, poses and selves without judgement and without praise.
I've written about that "no judgement, no praise" mantra before. But today it takes a new meaning. I'm trying not to judge myself for how I reacted yesterday, or for how easy on myself I was in my practice at Hip Hop last night (it's usually very upbeat and full of powerful flow, and I spent a long time in child's pose fighting back tears). Well, last night I barely made it to practice (I cried the whole way there, and was sort of scared to walk into the studio with tears and such), but I am so glad I did. She played a song I sent her, and it was a total surprise and made me smile. That smile got me through the rest of the night.
There are many other little things that have pleasantly caught me off guard lately, though for brevity (something I clearly need to work on, given the length of some of my posts...yikes!) I'll leave it at these two, a cheerful hello and a special song.
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