Last week Shira of In Pursuit of More tagged me in a relay, charging me with writing about hope and John Clinock of artratcafe generously bestowed on me the one lovely blog award. I am honored by the kind intentions of my fellow bloggers and will do my best to live up to their trust.
A major tenet of the two forms of Buddhism I have practiced is the practice of letting go, letting go of outcomes, letting go of expectations, letting go of desires. This does not immediately sound like fun, does it? That’s because we want what we want, even if wanting it is causing our suffering. I am personally undertaking a course of consciously letting go these days because I find myself falling in love. First I fell in love with a city, a country, a way of life, when I went to France. Then I fell in love with my guitar again, starting to play daily after a hiatus of a year. I fell in love with my room, starting to see ways that it could be improved. Every summer I fall in love with open water swimming when the days get warm enough to swim at the cove down in the Berkeley Marina. And, as you might have expected, I am somewhere on the continuum of falling in love with another person with all of that continuum’s abundant symptoms: sleeplessness, excitement, fear of the unknown. There is pleasure in falling in love and there is pain. There is fantasy and reality, hope and dread. I find that the easiest approach, although it is hard to put into practice, is to treat the entire experience as a practice, to work with whatever it brings to me in any given moment: if I am sleepless, get up and read or write. If I am inspired to write a love song, write a love song. If I am scared, feel the fear.
One aspect of treating life as a continuous practice is that there is no room for hope. Hope causes us to leap into the future, into some better world that is different from what we are experiencing right here, right now. When I am right here, I can respond to my fear or excitement as it occurs; when I am jumping into hope, I lose my opportunity in the present moment. My teacher is fond of saying “The love you want is no other place.” And, I, of course, am hoping that she is wrong, that there will be glorious love in a field of flowers some other day. But I know what she means: our only chance is this moment, what we find there now, where we find ourselves now. We can’t count on having another moment, better or worse.
What we can count on is that things will change: if I am sleepless for three weeks running, during week four I will fall into a deep sleep when the body needs it. The foods of the changing seasons that I highlight on The Kale Chronicles reveal this in a beautiful way: now there are Gravenstein apples and gypsy peppers, summer squash and tomatoes, cucumbers, green figs, the first grapes, blackberries, melons. Soon eggplants will come in and peaches will begin to fade away until next summer brings the new crop. I stir a couple of spoonfuls of apple crisp into my morning oatmeal and plan another round of zucchini-feta pancakes for lunch, topped with Sun Gold cherry tomatoes. Next month, perhaps next week, I will be eating something different. Food becomes more satisfying when you are not reaching for raspberries in December and tomatoes in February, when you eat what there is now, choosing your favorites, perhaps, but working with what you’ve got.
Love cannot resist reaching into the future, imagining scenarios, conjuring kisses out of the air. So let it. Just know that the fantasies, the daydreaming are a current and temporary state: mine them for their images and ideas, laugh at them and at yourself, an ingenue in a fifty-four year-old body. Watch as your mind tosses up Loggins and Messina songs (Where did they come from?). Sing them if you want — no one needs to know.
What do I hope for? I hope for the courage to face my life, the courage to be in whatever state I find myself in until that state changes. I hope for the courage to respond authentically to whatever I need to respond to. Today I thank Shira (who is in La Belle France) for encouraging me to meditate on hope and John who says lovely things about The Kale Chronicles. With my one-year blogging anniversary coming up fast (next Sunday) I tell you that I had some hopes for the blog: I hoped a few people would like my recipes. I hoped my writing would acquire a wider platform. I hoped a few people would buy my paintings and maybe even my music CDs. I hoped that I would find some writing students who want to do writing practice. Some of that has happened. But writing The Kale Chronicles has become much bigger than that because I have discovered an entire community of like-minded souls, people who care passionately about what they eat and where it comes from, but, beyond that, care about how they live their lives, treating each other with kindness and humor. I started a blog and found myself in a whole new community. I am made welcome here as I am made welcome in my communities of writers and singers and artists. And I will be calling on you soon with a special anniversary challenge, The Lauren Project — I know you will step up to the plate. There will be prizes and glory and the opportunity to help a lovely young woman find more joy in the kitchen.
In the meantime — back to the present — a simple raita recipe for cucumber season, courtesy of Padma, my Indian roommate in college, who taught me how to make it. The secret to good raita is no shortcuts — you must cut the cucumber into spears and de-seed it with a knife and then you must slice each spear into small bits with the knife — if you grate it, the cucumber turns watery. Raita is all about texture. So set aside an hour to make raita — you won’t be sorry.
Cucumber Raita
Peel 2 cucumbers (or use an Armenian cucumber, which requires no peeling). Slice each cucumber lengthwise into quarters, sixths or eighths, depending on its circumference. Remove all of the seeds. Slice the now seedless cucumber into small pieces and put in a steel or Pyrex bowl. Grate 1/2 of a fresh coconut into cucumbers. Add one bunch chopped cilantro.
Heat a small amount of peanut oil in a small skillet. When oil shimmers, add 1 tsp of mustard seeds and 1 dry red chile. Fry for a few seconds until mustard seeds pop and add chile, mustard seeds and oil to cucumber mixture to season it. Add plain yogurt and salt to taste, making it as creamy or as light as you like.
Food notes: You can, of course, make this with dessicated coconut — it’s just not as good as when you use fresh. Make sure your coconut is unsweetened — sugar in raita is gross. You can eat the raita as a salad, as a side dish with an Indian meal, or simply mixed with rice.
One Lovely Blog Award: I’m supposed to give you seven random facts about me. Here goes:
1) I’ve written two new songs in the last week, “Ingenue” and “The Werewolf.”
2) I like to eat pie for breakfast, although I usually eat oatmeal or polenta cooked with milk and sweetened with seasonal fruit.
3) My favorite color is kelly green. I also like lavender and blue, crimson, claret, raspberry, all balanced with plenty of black.
4) I am a Pisces, Sagittarius rising, Gemini moon, Venus in Aquarius.
5) Although I am a folk musician and will always be one, I have always (always?) had a fantasy of singing with a rock band.
6) If I could only eat one type of food for the rest of my life, it would be Indian food.
7) This bull needs a big meadow: don’t put me in a pigeonhole — I won’t fit.
Now I need to pass the award to fifteen of you. In no particular order
1) Celi at The Kitchen’s Garden — Celi writes about sustainable farming, a subject dear to my heart. Beyond that she is fun and knows how to tell a story.
2) Shira at In Pursuit of More has endeared herself to me by her generosity and her commitment to simplicity.
3) The Caerus blog, a brand new blog, showcases the artful thoughts of Suzanne Edminster, Karina Nishi Marcus and a growing cadre of guest artists. Look for it on Thursday mornings and go back to read the back archives.
4) The Literary Jukebox. I found this one this morning. Maria Popova posts a literary quote and a song everyday. Great for literate music junkies.
5) Debra at Breathe Lighter. Debra shares all aspects of her life in San Gabriel — recipes, photographs, pet stories, field trips, music, all accompanied by her enthusiasm for life.
6) John at artratcafe provides an art education by featuring the work of many diverse artists. He writes poems, too. Foodies will like his brilliant posts on food that combine illustrations, literary quotes and recipes with a certain je ne sais quoi.
7) John at From the Bartolini Kitchens writes an ongoing love letter to his Italian family and the foods of his culture. Want to make cheese or fresh pasta? See John.
8) Eva Taylor of Kitchen Inspirations knows how to put it all together: the dress, the shoes, the place settings. Lately she has been experimenting with healthier, lighter versions of favorite foods, keeping to a low-carb diet.
9) Betsy of Bits and Breadcrumbs cooks food I want to eat — I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again.
10) My writing pal Bob Chrisman has branched out and now writes a memoir-type blog called swqm60. Check it out.
11) Jane Robinson at Art Epicurean posts abstract paintings and encouragement for creative types.
12) My old friend Maura writes theonceandfutureemptynest about her life with husband, children, grandchildren, parents, dogs, running shoes, kayaks and literary ambition. A graceful writer, her thoughts will resonate with the sandwich generation.
13) I’ve already sent you to look at Deby Dixon’s photos on Deby Dixon Photography. Have another look, please.
14) Can’t leave out my pal, Movita Beaucoup! This chick is funny. And an incredible baker when she leaves off the Crisco frosting. And someday she is going to buy a painting (but you could beat her to it and buy up all of the best ones first. Just saying…)
15) Your nominee. Please use the comments to tell us all about the blogs you love the most, the ones you open first everyday, among other things. We have free speech here.
A very profound read my friend, you were a great choice to tag 😀
Lovely raita as well and congrats on the much deserved award!
Cheers
Choc Chip Uru
Thank you, CCU. I hope you are still celebrating!
Sharyn, yes, I am writing from Paris on my second to last night – just heading to sleep and read your post through twice it is so profoundly beautiful in every way. Thank you for writing such beautifully candid thoughts – just your words about falling in love gave me goosebumps – really (and if this what I think it means I am beyond excited for you)! And of course for your kind words I am very appreciative – you have endeared yourself to me for the same reasons. This post is superb! The best Hope Relay post yet (by far)…..wow. Well done! Bon soir from La Belle France!
Thanks, Shira, for more kind words. I can’t speak for the gentleman’s feelings — only mine. But love has lovely aspects no matter how things turn out.
Oh and PS – this Raita? I will SO be making this, it sounds amazing! 🙂 xx
the sun is shinning in Oahu, my net connections are iffy, I had to stop several times to reload the page and go on savoring your words… What a beautiful post!
So glad I could connect and read it in such a special day, mind is relaxed, the world feels just right….
Happy. bloggiversary and thank you for yet another beautiful, thoughtful text…
It must be beautiful in Hawaii, Sally. Dip your toes in the ocean for me.
Sharyn – I learned so much about you in this post. Thank you for your candid words, insightful thoughts and inspiration. Your talents are many and your writings fill the reader (me) in on so many of life’s good things…good healthy eating, music, artwork, travel, a tribe of like-minded spirits. You are truely living your life as art Bravo and congratulations on your anniversary!
Sharyn, Loved this post because I learned so much more about you. You write beautifully and make the reader (me) feel as though we are having a conversation. You are truly living life as art and share it so freely…and wonderful. Your healthy eating and recipes, your artwork, your music, travel, tribe of like-minded creatives, your family and now I learn more about your faith, your willingness to love. Thank you for a wonderful post and congratulations on your anniversary. Brava!
Thanks, Jane.
Beautiful post, Sharyn.
Thank you, Susan.
Your writing is so inspiring, Sharyn, the way you write so freely but with all the links of how your mind is working. Beautiful.
And I’m loving the raita and will be bookmarking this, my usual one is simpler with just dry fried whole cumin seeds added. So thank you for helping me to branch out!
Thank you, Claire. And I should try simple raita with fried cumin seeds — I love cumin.
I am so happy that I took a little break from my work to see what I missed over the weekend. Sharyn, you have expressed yourself so beautifully. I can imagine that you really enjoyed your writer’s retreat this summer in France!
You seem to me to authentically live your life as an artist. You flow in and out of seasons in your perspective, much like you cook and create seasonally, and you have a keen eye and awareness for how you fit into a larger picture of life. You are very conscious in all your living, which bends you towards the lows in life while also allowing hope while reaching for the gifts–art, creativity, music, inspiration, companionship. I am really so glad for your openness. It is like fresh air to hear someone express themselves about love, hope and courage. Thank you for the wonderfully kind mention, too, Sharyn. You are so generous! Debra
Thank you, Debra, for your kind words. My best friend and I have just cooked up a spontaneous plan to visit Six Flags Marine World tomorrow — to ride rides and eat kid food and splash around to our hearts’ content. Maybe I’ll review our food choices on Wednesday!
Oooh I’ve not put mustard seeds or chilli in raita before, sounds like a great idea!
My roommate was from South India — this is the way her family made it.
[…] What do I hope for? I hope for the courage to face my life, the courage to be in whatever state I find myself in until that state changes. I hope for the courage to respond authentically to whatever I need to respond to. -The Kale Chronicles […]
Lovely and thoughtful post, thanks. I had to read it a second time.
Thank you, Norma.
I approve of these breakfast choices.
So glad you approve.
Lovely post. I enjoyed reading it a lot. I was just “remembering” that I haven’t lived in the present moment for a long time. It is hard to remember without practicing!
Nice painting and recipe as well!
Thanks, Melissa. I imagine child-rearing causes you to spend many moments in the present, responding to what must be responded to on a daily basis.
This is one wonderful, thought-provoking post, Sharyn. I’ve been here a few times since last night to re-read it. Although I’ve ordered raita in a restaurant. I’ve never thought to even attempt to make it at home. I don;t know if I’ll ever try to make it but at least I know it can be done at home, thanks to you. And, thanks again for your kind words when nominating me. Although i don’t accept awards any longer, I am nonetheless honored when mentioned and grateful for that honor.
Thanks, John. Awards are two-edged, aren’t they? It’s nice to know that someone cares to nominate you, but then there is all that work involved, all those decisions to make, all that space to take up with things only bloggers care about.
What a great way to view life, Sharyn; I have been relatively successful of letting go of expectations, which for me usually end up with much better results and I enjoy myself better. But I do think these things come with maturity and wisdom. I doubt my 20 year old self could have done it successfully.
The raita is something I have made but I have used my julienne mandolin (it gets a good workout in my kitchen) and then chopped the cuc’s into small cubes (about 2mm or 1/8″) with some success. Grating really makes the vegetables too wet (I’ve found this with the slaw I blogged about a while ago too).
Thank you so much for the award, I am really touched and flattered. As John mentioned above, I am unsure of whether I will be able to devote the time involved to do the reciprocal justice but I am very flattered and honoured of the mention. Thank you kindly.
and all of this is why I nominated you – the profound beauty of your practice, your writing and the clarity and compassion you always share – the honest and beautiful responses you always evoke from your readers – your loving and care full attention to the fruits of the earth and to their preparation for entering and nourishing our bodies and minds – and the creativity and art of your life…Sharyn, you are one lovely blogger and person…
What can I say but thank you?
Congrats!
Thank you.
What a gorgeous post, and then… me! What a nice mention! In return, I will try not to post too many Crisco recipes. Unless they tell us to at baking school – then it’s in the name of education…
Thank you, Miss B. It’s just raw Crisco that gets to me: I use it to grease muffin tins and to make pie crust. Yeah, you have to do whatever they tell you in baking school or they’ll be kicking you with them steel-toed clogs…
You have just stopped me in my tracks, in the moment, with tears. And now my eyes fall on the words “Crisco” and “steel-toed clogs” in your comment above this one and I smile as I say thank you for the deep, peaceful thoughts. Wow.
Thanks, Granny. We all have moments of peace — and then there are the other moments…
So great to see that I am not the only one that could live on Indian food for the rest of my life! 😉
I think the Indian people have developed a marvelous and subtle cuisine, varied and ingenious.