Vanilla: It Feels Good to be Bursting

Dear Reader,

Sometimes I am too ripe. I am bursting with juice and joy and desire to write...to hear pen scratching on paper, fingers typing on the keyboard...it is such a luxury to be so full.

I recognize this - that right now I am rich with inspiration - and thankful for it. I am grasping it, trying to hold on.

At times like this I need to choose between writing and sleep. Frankly, sleep usually wins out because I have a family and children and a job that requires me to be encouraging, positive and on my toes for the betterment of today's youth.

But if I could, I would be living the quintessential writer's life - in my pajamas all day, writing, writing, writing...stopping only to check the mail and take the dog out for a quick constitutional before pouring another cuppa and scribbling some more...

Someday,
Jessica

Vanilla: Good Reads

Read two good books recently. The first one was The Forty Rules of Love: A Novel of Rumi by Elif Shafak. I am really into poets like Rumi and Hafiz right now and loved this book about Rumi and Shams of Tabriz and how Rumi was introduced to Sufism. The modern element appealed to me as well.

The one I just finished today is called The School of Essential Ingredients by Erica Bauermeister. This is a very sweet, easy read. If you like novels about cooking that read like a movie then you will enjoy this. It's a light, fun read with sweet stories about life and love and the healing nature of shared food and time spent together in the kitchen. You will enjoy this one!

How Much Is Enough?

Dear, Dear, Dear Reader,

This question has been haunting me of late..."How much is "enough"?"

I know what I don't have enough of...sleep and time being the top two. Time is far and away #1 on my list. I don't have time enough to think, or write, or relax, or meditate, or wonder, or ponder, or dream or read. I barely have enough time to do my work, fullfil my obligations as wife, mother, employee, sister, daughter, friend, teacher, etc.

Don't misunderstand, I am thankful to be each of those things - honored and proud and grateful.

I just crave more time.

So, as in many things, it is such that I know what I have too little of. Thankfully I can only think of two things. I know there are many, many people out there who could add a whole lot of things to their list - food, money, clothing, to name a few. Yet the question remains: how much of the other stuff is enough?

Forgive me if I ramble, as I am trying to work this out as I go...I know we have enough food. We certainly have enough clothing (I think I could go for a full month without having to wash clothes at all. We may all be commando by the end of the month, but we could survive. I must conduct an experiment!)

So, we have enough food, enough clothing, enough material goods crowding the house and garage - shoes, books (my fault!), TOYS, artwork, technology, sports equipment.

Do we have enough money? Hmmm...that is a tricky one. Perhaps that is THE tricky one. We have more (much more) than others. According to the world bank, France's average per capita income is $42,620. The US: $46,360. Costa Rica: $6,260. Bhutan (where they are supposed to be the happiest) $2,030. OK, Norway skews our data - they come in at $84,640...with a life expectancy of 81.

What else might we have, or not have, enough of?

What do you have "enough" of? How do you know you have enough of it?

I'm curious to read your answers...

Yours in Wanting,
jessica

daily vanilla: oh, that wonder that is Maya Angelou!

Dear Reader,

It is mere coincidence that my lovely daughter is named Maya. We didn't hamer her after anyone - not even Maya Angelou. But can I say how pleased I am that they share the same name? (and the same fire, I have a sneaking suspicion...)

I am a "friend" of Maya Angelou on FaceBook and she posted this little gem today:

"If you are going down a road and dont like what's in front of you and look behind you and don't like what you see, get off the road. Create a new path."

I am not sure what it is about this quote that makes the hair on the back of my neck stand up so. I am sure there are many things...but today it's the confidence, the courage, the just be yourself godammit-ness of it all.

Your partner in clearcutting,
Jessica



PS: The Amazing Miss Maya Angelou is coming to town, March 18, I already have my tickets - click here to purchase yours.

"Thank You" power

Dear Reader,

Thank you. Thank you for reading the randomness that is my blog. Thank you for sharing your thoughts about what I have written and for encouraging me to continue to write. I appreciate it more than you may ever know.

With Love,
Jessica


Didn't that feel good? Doesn't it feel good to be thanked - especially if it is for something you enjoy doing anyways? Or even if it is something you have to do - a part of your job, perhaps. Sometimes being thanked for that can get you through a rough day, or rough patch, at work.

Something I have been conscious of doing is thanking people. In writing. I write thank you notes and send them in the mail. You know, the old-fashioned way, the kind of mail you get in your mailbox. I imagine my recipients to be thrilled getting something addressed to them, in handwriting, that is neither a bill nor an invitation to a time-share seminar. I have thanked receptionists and co-workers and friends. People who ought to already know how much I love and appreciate them as well as complete strangers.

True, it makes me feel good too. But I think it makes them feel even better. It's not often enough that I can do something relatively simple to help someone feel good, or better, or appreciated. I am enjoying the exercise.

My goal is to continue and perhaps expand the process. Good is good, no matter how you look at it.

Thankfully,
Jessica

On Stillness

From the Sufi poet Hafiz:


A Still Cup


For

God

To make love,

For the divine alchemy to work,

The Pitcher needs a still cup.

Why

Ask Hafiz to say

Anything more about

Your most

Vital

Requirement?

Daily Vanilla

I just love this quote:

“For my part I know nothing with any certainty, but the sight of the stars makes me dream.” ~ Vincent van Gogh

dreamily,
jessica

but can i walk the walk?

oh, Dear Reader,

so much to do, so much to do!

the tree and holiday decorations need to come down, be packed away. i have to take an exam tomorrow for work - one of those exams that drain your brain and exhaust you. and require #2 pencils. i have, literally, 2 milk crates stuffed full of papers to review and finals to grade. laundry multiplies like extra-horny rabbits. i have a really, really good library book i want to sink into. my body is craving a really long yoga session. i am not done with my year in review. i am still on "vacation" and would prefer to use this time to continue to relax and not have to spend the day in my frozen, filthy classroom grading finals.

today's challenge is to find that place of stillness and sit there. even amidst the whirling tornado of "shoulds" and "musts" that are largely, no, entirely, made up, arbitrary.

this is an opportunity to practice what i preach. i can talk the talk, but can i walk the walk?

or -

can i be the be?

sit the sit?

curiously,
j

2010 in the rear view

Hello Dear Reader,

Day 5 of the new year. So far, so good. I have to tell you that one of my "goals" for the new year has already been met!

I have been writing this blog since my birthday in 2009. So it is just a smidge over a year old. I am pretty happy that I have maintained it for a year. I get positive feedback from the friends and family who follow it and who read it when I send out updates. I am truly grateful for that and it gives me both pleasure and momentum whenever someone leaves a comment or sends me an email in response to a post.

This year, in 2011, my goal is to have at least one comment from someone who I am not related to nor do I know personally. I would also like to increase my number of followers and have that increased number include folks I do not know personally.

The first half of that goal was met on January 2! I got a comment from a stranger! Although, truly, any other woman around my age who writes poetry, blogs about it and reads other poet's blogs is not all that "strange" to me, is she?

I was SOOOOOO stoked to see her comment!!! (Thank you S!)

I had a similar feeling when I reviewed the past year. For many reasons 2010 was extremely difficult. Key, of course, was the death of my mother at the age of 61. That was a challenging time for me for many reasons in addition to my mom's passing. But I got through it - as I am wont to do in most situations - or I wouldn't be sitting here writing, would I?

After my mom passed in August the year continued to be challenging in ways both good and bad (from a new job I love but that gives me a ton of work to too many deaths of people I knew - the deaths of the young, the unexpected, quick deaths being the most difficult to process.) But from the range of experiences over the last 6 months or so I have learned so much.

I have learned the importance of breathing...no, really. You may laugh - "Yes, of course, we know it is important to breathe..." but I mean it. We take it for granted, we don't pay attention to it, we do it without thinking about it. Breathe mindfully. If things are tough, breathe. If things make you feel sad, or stressed, or depressed it is OK. Just feel what you are feeling and pay attention to your breath and you will get through it. Anger, sadness, fear, joy, envy, confusion...breathe through it all.

Being able to breathe and "be in the moment" (however cheesy that may sound to some of you) I was able to be fully present with my mom when she took her last breath. I was able to move on to a new job - and manage the stress of essentially being a first year teacher again now that I am teaching a new subject. When the workload gets to be too much I literally stop, breathe, and think about what the important things are in my life - what I have identified as my top 5 priorities:

1. Having fun with family and friends
2. Writing
3. Practicing Yoga
4. Meditating
5. Reading

Then, after pausing, breathing, and thinking about what is important to me I move on, usually with a clearer view of how much time I want to spend worrying about something (an unhappy student/parent, the stacks of papers to grade, the loads of laundry piling up or the annoying little dust bunnies who taunt me from every corner) that is not on my list of truly, madly, deeply important things.

The week after my mom died I submitted some poems for a local event - In Celebration of the Muse. This is a major event for women poets in Santa Cruz (which, honestly, is a hot bed of poetic talent). It has been going on annually for 30 years and I have been going, as an audience member and admirer, for over 5 years. One year I wrote in my journal how I wanted to read at the Muse someday. Well, 2011 is my year! I got in! And the beautiful thing is that the organizers have asked me, specifically, to read the poems I have written about my mom.

I also had work accepted this year by two other lit reviews (Shemom and the Porter Gulch Review) and had a piece selected as a finalist (top 5 out of over 250) in another contest. Considering I only submitted work to 7 places getting in to 3 and being a finalist in the 4th is not too bad!

So, as I look back over the year, I am altogether happy. I had some successes with my poetry and made progress on the novel (25,000 words worth thanks to NaNoWriMo), I have a new job that I am thoroughly enjoying, I got to be with my mom when she passed away, I have learned a lot, I have established a steady yoga and mediation practice, my children continue to grow and flourish, I have supportive, loving, amazing friends and family who totally showed up in a time of great need, my father (my mom's ex-husband) was spellbindingly present and amazing during my mom's death, I had a most remarkable time on retreat for my 43rd (!!!) birthday and I am feeling juicy and ripe as I head into 2011.

This year I will continue to write, share my work, apply and submit to publications and events that I think I will never get in to, to write to you and hope you spread the word about Vinegar and Vanilla, to breathe, to learn, to love, to dream, to have fun, to stretch, to walk and ride instead of drive, to smile at everyone, to laugh every chance I get, to dance and sing to the music and to have fresh flowers on my table - because I promised my mom I would.

Optimistically,
Jessica

This is Where the Magic Happens! pictures from december's writing retreat

This is where the magic happens! New Camoldoli is the location of the annual silent writing retreat that I go on. This long weekend is one of the most transformative, juicy, inspiring and restorative experiences I have ever had. My writing muse, mentor and prime encourager, Amber Sumrall, leads the retreat and many others. I look forward to this weekend every year. Someday I will be fortunate enough to afford to go on two of her retreats ~ one in the summer and this one.

I am not particularly religious, but "signs" like this abound at the monastery and are comforting in a very natural, non-threatening way.

This was my room this year. I love being in room 9, since I always think of 9 as my lucky number. I was born at 9:36 PM on 12/9 - all the threes involved! Maybe it's 3 that is my lucky number! LOL!

I got a kick out of being in the Immaculate Heart room too. All the other rooms are named after saints.

A sample of the spectacular natural beauty of Big Sur. Truthfully one of the most amazing coastlines on Earth.

This sign on the road to the monastery never fails to make me smile, breathe and slow down. This is always my mantra as I leave the mountain and wind my way back to reality.

Slowly,
Jessica

Flaky Flix: A Cautionary Tale

Dear Reader,

Happy New Year!

2011 ~ thank the goddess you are here, I am ready for a symbolic shift. As you, dear Reader know, I cycle through times of diligence, discipline and productivity (DDP) contrasted with times of sloth, despair and waaayyyyy too much coffee. This is an ongoing thing with me. I am sure you have your own cycles you go through. The best I can hope for is for shorter sugar/caffeine/sloth cycles and longer DDP cycles. And an awareness of where I am and that I can either speed the cycle along or slow it down, respectively.

I mention this because, as it is the new year, it is the traditional time for reflection and setting new intentions. Not resolutions, but intentions. I like to review my journals for the past year and reflect on what has happened, how I dealt with things, what I am proud of, and where and what I need to continue to pay attention to. Then, I think about what I would like to happen in the new year and set some intentions.

It works well for me at this time of year not just because it is the "new year" but also because my birthday is in December and I often go on retreat around then plus, as a teacher, I have a break now. It all fits together nicely.

Lest you think I am too awesome let me tell you this secret: I have eaten so many cookies and pieces of fudge over the past week I think I have developed a true buddha belly. Even worse, I have washed said cookies and fudge down with wine and/or champagne almost every night. Boo me.

I simply can't help myself. If it is in the house, on the counter, I can't resist. I kinda like to feel as bad as possible, you know, hit rock bottom, before I break out of the sugar cycle.

I hope this does not come as a surprise - I know I have told you on more than one occasion I have very little self-discipline. Particularly in the areas of chocolate and butter and sugar and, well, fermented grape products.

By way of history, a story:

Once, in college, I had a bad night. I think the guy I was dating was mad at me - maybe we even broke up (BBac, are your ears burning?) In any event, I was distraught. My roomie was out for the night or the weekend and I, sad and broken hearted, decided to take it to the limit. This involved a trip to the grocery where I bought at least one bottle of wine and a box of Flaky Flix. If you don't know the joy of Flaky Flix you really should. But don't ask me to join you.

I went home, listened to sad break-up music and drank wine and ate Flaky Flix. And wrote bad broken hearted poetry. The evening ended with me in the bath, candles all around and the nearly empty box of Flaky Flix on the bathroom floor next to me.

Did you know that if you pour hot melted candle wax into the bath it solidifies on contact? Tres dramatique! But a real bitch to clean up the next day.

I digress...

In any event, the point is that I do not know when to say when. Or, more truthfully, I do know when to say when, I just refuse to say it. I really prefer to eat the whole damn box of Flaky Flix and wash it down with the whole damn bottle of Louis Martini Cab (college wine of choice and budget) and melt down all the candles and fill the whole journal with bad poetry written until my pen runs out and then prick my finger and write in my own blood and slip out of the bath only when the water is ice cold and crawl into my bed with wet hair so I wake up not only hungover and in a sugar coma but also with pneumonia just so I get all the feeling bad out of the way at once .

Then, I have a renewed dedication to right relations, less alcohol, better poetry and, well, a really strong aversion to Flaky Flix. Even to this day.

Kind of like celebrating New Year's.

Happy 2011!
jessica

Celebrating Nora

Dear Reader,

As many of you know, yesterday would have been my mom's 62nd birthday.

I miss her.

Last year she had been in the nursing facility for just a couple of weeks when we all went to see her on her birthday. We brought a chocolate cake and sang happy birthday to her. She sang along with us at the very end "...Happy Birthday, dear Nora, happy birthday to you!" It was pretty freakin' cute and we all laughed.

Then we fed her some cake. She loved chocolate so we never denied her that pleasure, even at the end. Juniper was feeding it to her and mom bit down so hard on the plastic fork that it broke. We had to find her a regular metal fork. Then we left. It seems like it was just a regular day. I know I didn't really think about it possibly being her last birthday, maybe my dad or my sister did. I don't know if it would have made much difference if I had thought of it that way.

The reality is that any birthday could be our last. I think if there is any lesson I have really, truly learned this year it is just that: we are not guaranteed a single day more. None of us. I am not sure if it is a good thing or a bad thing that it has taken me 43 years to really "get" this. The real question may be - now that I "get" it, what do I do with it? How does that in the bones understanding change my life? Or does it change it at all? (This conundrum will be discussed at length in an upcoming post - check back soon! ;-))

Back to mom ~ she went to dinner with my dad and sister last night. Her favorite restaurant on her birthday. I celebrated her in a different, yet no less enjoyable or significant way. I was at S's annual Pirate Party with 14 of the most amazing, inspiring, hilarious women I have ever had the privilege to spend an evening with.

S and her friends have met once a year for the Pirate Party for at least 30 years. I have been a regular invitee for maybe 10? Maybe more. The detail is of no matter. What matters is the caliber of the women, the fun, the jokes, the stories, the life in that room each year. The sparkle. Ahh, the sparkle!!! Seems fitting to me that on what would have been my mom's 62nd birthday I was able to be in a room with these women who knew her through me, and who, just by being there and bearing witness to each other, provide sustenance and laughter to the Nth degree. We eat great food, drink wine and champagne, tell dirty stories and stories that make you cry and laugh and snort all at the same time (some kind of comedic holy trinity, that one) and emanate so much divine motherly feminine power and joy and hope and wisdom it is intoxicating. It was the perfect place to be.

It was the perfect space to remember my mom on her birthday. My mom was a pirate at heart.

I am a pirate.

Maya will be a pirate.

And so the line continues...

I love you mom. Happy birthday.

Arrrrrrr,
jessica

Anniversary Part 1

Dear Reader,

I missed it. I am so sorry. You have my deepest, most regretful apologies. I have no excuse for missing our one year anniversary. [insert deeply regretful, in the doghouse face here.]

What? What's that? Oh? Really? You missed it too? Really. That's so not cool.

I expect comments, posts, sharing, and general adoration in a blatant effort to kiss up to me, since you forgot too.

I began vinegar and vanilla on my birthday last year, 2009. So we have been here for 1 year! yay me!!!

I don't expect you to be half as excited and proud of me as I am. That's cool. I can drink champagne alone and toast myself.

Bubbily,
j

Simple Human Contact Trumps Technology

Dear Reader,

I just love this article in today's New York Times. It talks about the idea of "kangaroo care" - in this case specifically for premature babies - and how it works so incredibly well. Born of necessity due to hospitals severely lacking in the basics (including water in some. The nurses washed their hands at home, after work. Ugh.) the idea of kangaroo care has proven to be amazingly effective. Place the nearly nude premie on the mom's bare chest. The human body (especially the mom's, but others can do the trick too) keeps the baby warm enough and - check this out - a mom's breasts will adjust their temperature to the baby's. PLUS, the position helps prevent reflux and apnea and the mom's heartbeat and breathing help regulate and stabilize the infant's!

It's an amazing, inspiring read. Mama says check it out.

Power to the Boobs!

Mammarily,
Chestica

If you care to donate to a worthy cause this season...

Here a couple of worthy organizations:

The first one is the hermitage where I go on my annual silent writing retreat. This year's retreat was so amazing that I haven't had the time to write about it because I am still processing the experience and following up on the prodigious amount of writing I did while I was there. This is a magical place on the most magical Big Sur coast. The monks there maintain 900 acres of the most incredible landscape in the world (see above photo). They need our help! To find out more about the hermitage click here. For a recent article on the monks in the LA Times click here.

Another wonderful resource that shows up in my email inbox every weekday is The Writer's Almanac. I love the daily poem, sure, that's a given, but the information about famous (and not so) authors and poets is really phenomenal. I learn at least two new things every time I read through the almanac. I know they - like most other things of value - really need our support right now. You can donate to their worthy cause by clicking here.

Of course, you can always be my patron...I would be open to that!

Charitably,
Jessica

Cheerio!

Thank God, the Goddess, Santa and whomever else for friends I say! Hip Hip Hooray!

If it wasn't for friends and family and the lure of Hector's All Meat pizza + liberally poured alcohol my tree would still be bare, dripping wet, and leaning against the wall of the garage. Instead she shines like a beacon in the foggy night of finals week, ungraded exams, essays, journals, un-checked off shopping and grocery lists as well as the unbaked cookies, unsent cards and discarded good intentions that are psychically scattered at my feet.

This morning, as I blow my nose one too many times, reach for the emergenC, and pray for prolific and powerful grading powers, I also thank my Santa-hatted family (yes, Sally, you are family) for coming through with the mulled wine and the Christmas spirit!

HoHoHoing,
jessiclaus

A Prayer for the Busy Week Ahead

I like this idea of a "prayer" for something. Having not been raised in a religious household I have missed out on this practice. However, "a prayer for..." is a common writing prompt and one that I am beginning to enjoy.

I guess you could call it whatever you want, if you are not comfortable with the idea of a prayer though as time goes on and I a) get older and b)travel further on my own "spiritual path" I am less bothered by the language inherent to each religion and more interested in the common condition.

I am sure I will riff more on that at a later date. I'll add it to my "to do" list - the very one that I am about to take issue with - LOL!

Many of my fellow teacher friends and family are already on winter break. Unfortunately, I am not. I have three more days of work. And of course, I am behind on grading, planning, thinking, ruminating, contemplating and acting on work related issues, because, really, the Muse has been hanging around lately and I just can't ignore her, now, can I? I mean, what writer with any measure of sense will just say, "Uh, hey, Muse, nice to see you but I am really busy grading this milk crate full of homework packets so if you can just hang tight I'll get to you when I am done."

Uh, nope. It's a calculated risk, I know, but Reader, I took it. And yes, I know I am paying the price but I tell you what, if the Muse is there when I wake up tomorrow chances are I will offer to make her some coffee and listen to whatever it is she has to say, for as long as she wants to share. I am loving her company.

Huh, that's odd, this post started out about prayer and all that I have ahead of me and has ended up about the Muse. She's such a funny, fickle and did I mention demanding gal. Gotta admire the sneaky way she works herself into every conversation.

OK, the prayer for the week, the busy week ahead - at least it looks busy from here, but my vision is somewhat obscured by the eight ball I seem to be behind - my prayer goes something like this:

Dear Universe, please offer me the ability to prioritize wisely, to use my time fully and in a worthy fashion. Give me the strength to see the beauty and humor in all I encounter this week and to remain thankful for the blessings in my life evidenced by all I feel I have to do, in other words - a job, students who do their work, parents and students who care deeply about their grades, children and a husband to care for, friends and family to spend time with and the gift of being able to prepare a festive home and warm meals for them, and a Muse who has come to visit. I pray I am blessed with the ability to see the good in all the week brings to me. Amen. Insha'ALLAH. Namaste.

Gratefully (and calmly),
jessica

A wish for you

that there is at least one person, every day, who sees you and smiles at you like a kid at school performance who was scanning the crowd and has just spotted his/her mom in the crowd.

You know the look - pure love and joy.

proudly,
jess

Birthday Mirthday!

So far, so good! Woke up as chipper and happy as my sun son. Shaved my legs without a nick - even though the kidlets startled me when then came in to wish me a happy birthday and show me all the goodies waiting for me.

Got dressed without incident, coffee maker had successfully brewed me some of the dark nectar, thermos was waiting to be filled. Hubby greeted me warmly, kids begged me to at least open the cards. Little Man's handwrittn greeting was adorable, Miss M made me a huge card with balloons and cakes and so many happys and so many loves ~ I hung it on the wall in my classroom for joy.

Happy, funny fellow Starbucks addicts in line exchanged witty banter (there is a family of 3 I see there from time to time - they are my Starbucks friends.) Everyone knew it was my birthday because I said YES! to the offer of whipped cream on my birthday mocha. That's how I roll people, stand back!

Got to skoolork (school+work=skoolork) a little close to the wire but it was all good because Michael Franti worked hard the whole time reminding me to stay human and listen to the words of the Dalai Lama - or at least the words of your momma. Every flower got a right to be bloomin'!

A student was waiting for me with birthday greetings and a gift, a fellow teacher came in with a card signed by my co-workers and my first class sang happy birthday - with an 80% pass rate - whoo hoo!

The day is off to a good start folks...

Stay Youthful,
Jess

You never know when it will hit you...

One of my most vivid memories of my mom is from December 8, 1980 - the day John Lennon was shot. She was sitting at our round table, crying. I didn't understand why, so much, but I knew enough about the Beatles and had listened to enough John Lennon to get it.

Imagine was one of her favorite songs, guaranteed to make her weepy - she was a crier. So am I. One more thing passed down the matrilineal line.

When she was dying my sister and I played music for her. My iPhone right next to her on the pillow. Imagine came on just as she drew her last breath.

This morning on the way to work NPR was talking about the death of Lennon, 30 years ago today, and of course Imagine was the lead music. Bam! Tears welled up, emotions rose, and the whole day shifted.

Not in a bad way,just a shift. Another reminder of how things change in the blink of an eye (I know it is a cliche, but that's really how fast it can happen), the beat of a hummingbird's wing.

Another reminder that this breath, this moment is all we have.

Tomorrow is the first birthday my mom won't be with me.

Deep breaths,
Jessica