Feed, Nourish and Protect

Late summer and early fall mean I’m really busy with food.   Fruit to dry, storerooms rearranged to accommodate new supplies and freezers prepared to store this year’s bounty of meat and poultry keep me hopping from July through November.

Cooler weather also means a return to my favorite cooking venue – The Crockpot.

Although I’ve finally found some viable chilled soup recipes for summer, winter  remains my favorite time to cook.   Nothing calms me or brings greater joy than to move about the house accompanied by the smell of simmering soup and raising bread.

(Adding artificial heat to an already hot day makes me cranky…)

And while I like to eat good and have learned how necessary good nutrition is to my health and well-being, I really don’t like spending all day, everyday, in the kitchen.

There are so many other grand adventures to partake in!

So, the Crockpot is my best friend.

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I’ve spent the last few years immersing myself in the subject of food – sources, how it’s grown, how it’s prepared, how to get the greatest nutrition out of your food choices.

I’ve also immersed myself in research of how we heal – what promotes healing and what doesn’t – what works and why.

Food is more than just a way to feed our tummy.    Done properly, food nourishes our soul, both during preparation and ingestion.   And purchased properly, our food choices contribute to our local resiliency and  protects our local economies.

Sorry, but you just can’t get that kind of bang for your buck outta 4 for $5 frozen dinners.

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At some point in my own journey through healing and food, I started wondering how much healing value comes from the actual food and how much is a return of the energy we have invested in food.    May sound nuts, but if you follow quantum physics, mind/body research or studies regarding the placebo effect, then you would be pondering this thought, too.

Though my ears have not heard this phrase for over 3 years, my mind can still conjure up my Dad’s voice, intoning:

“Thank you for this food;  bless it to the nourishment of our bodies and bless the hands that prepared it.”

He didn’t leave out anyone in the chain of what put good food in front of him.

Reminds me of various practices in hunter/gatherer cultures – the before hunting dance/prayer – the after hunting dance/prayer – the small tokens offered to the various gods recognized as being responsible for us living and eating for one more day.

Stories of  guests honored by food – first dibs and they were expected to take the choicest, largest portion.

Food was a big deal and honored.

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What if focused, peaceful intent actually changes the benefits of the energy you ingest?   What If?!?

Then a leisurely 15 minutes spent chopping veggies and slicing meat in the morning to be dumped into simmering home-made broth, when I’m well-rested and still wildly enthusiastic about the fact I woke up (again) means the soup I start for supper is so super loaded with nutrition, my family should look like the Incredibles by now.

It surely has to have more nutrition than the frozen pizza I slap in the oven after returning home late, with my mind still off in the never-never land of cranky bosses, uncompleted projects and moron drivers.   I’m convinced that’s one of the top reasons why ‘fast food’ doesn’t satisfy us as it should.  I didn’t ‘super-inject’ it with Good Intent!

According to some ancient cultural practices and modern medicine, my family’s digestion processes work better too, when I’m in a good mood at the supper table…

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Taken a step further, if I do happen to think about who made the frozen pizza, I don’t put out peaceful intent.

I understand that frozen pizza was probably compiled by either a machine or some poor minimum wage factory worker who wonders when a machine will replace him/her.    I also think about the commodity system, how farmers, ranchers and dairymen get less than the cost of production for their wares and how even with subsidies, that one pizza represents a world where small family farms can’t compete, monoculture mindset reigns and super companies have a five-year plan of patenting and owning all the food seed in the world.  I also think about how much money goes to those who process, package and transport the food and how much goes to the people who actually grew/raised it.

(It’s very skewed – if you don’t believe me, and you live in eastern Colorado, then ask any of your neighboring wheat farmers what they get per bushel of wheat from the wholesale broker, when it has, gasp, sprouted and then go to your local “Health Nut” food store and see what you pay for wheat grass or sprouted wheat flour)

On the other hand, when I make soup, and think about how it traveled to me, I put out lots of good energy:

I’m thankful for the wheat farmer, the rancher and the two 4-h girls who are willing to raise an extra pig for me.   I think about friends and neighbors who called or emailed and said, “Help!   I got a bumper crop of (insert veggie/fruit).  Come get some!”    I think of them, their life, their children and I feel such a warm glow of gratitude for all they do for me.

I think about my local Farmer’s Market and how much I enjoy wandering up and down the aisles, buying veggies that were cared for by the hands that are now giving me my change.

It’s just two completely different states of mind – solely dependent on what I choose to prepare for supper.

Even if you don’t buy into the whole ‘divine matrix and intention theory’,  ya gotta admit, having peaceful thoughts while fixing supper has its’ advantages.

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I’d like to see a Real Food revolution.   I’d like to have it be the main topic of conversation anywhere I go.   Where to find it, purchase it.   How to store, preserve, properly prepare it.   I would like to see the  mainstream media headlines splashed with bio’s about those who raise, care and produce Real Food.

Won’t happen anytime soon – I can’t even imagine, “nightclub”, “drugs” and “local farmer” ever being in the same headline.

Nobody wants to read about the rancher who gets up at 2:00 a.m. and checks her herd, because cows and heifers have this funny way of doing things – they like to go into labor whenever a good blizzard moves in…Every rancher knows this and they choose to remove themselves from comfort, just in case that first-time momma runs into some snags….

When will that be seen as hero status in our culture?

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Becoming a Real Foodie means more than just ‘eating good’.   It’s impossible to enter that world and not take the journey from your individual survival all the way up to the health of the biosphere.

During his RSA lecture, Empathic Civilisation, Jeremy Rifkin states,

“All economics depend on photosynthesis.”

He’s right, ya know.

And your Food Choices Really Are That Important!

The Face of AI

That’s Artificial Intelligence, for those without their handy-dandy acronym list close by.

Via my inbox, I get an email from Yahoo, who supposedly tracks my clicks and sends me links to “Things I’m Interested In”.  Here’s the list:

• Men’s style mistakes that drive women nuts.
  • (who cares what they’re wearing when they are being dorks?)
• Natural ways to boost your metabolism
  • (really?  my nutritionist would love to get me off of coffee.)
• Most iconic swimsuits of all time
  • (think Farrah what’s her name.   And I don’t wear swimsuits.)
• Healthiest Frozen Dinners on the market
  • (they make healthy ones?)
• Only types of debt you should ever carry
  • (why are we all in debt in the first place?)
• What your workspace says about you
  • (I’m unemployed, however, my kitchen and laundry room say I try to be clean and neat…)
• Ten summer style do’s and don’ts
  • (I hate to shop, apply make-up or ‘do’ my hair)

Notice I did not hyperlink any of these.   I figure if you’re into reading my blog, you don’t care about these topics either… Or, like me, you know they are either fluff, or full of misinformation…

(Tell me, please, who out there Really believes they can ‘drink their way to slimness”?  I tried by switching from Bud to Light years ago…not working…)

Given my knowledge of government and private sector geek heads trading technology back and forth, this list both worries and relieves me at the same time.

If they are this far off the mark, even though someone has access to my ‘internet viewing history stats’ then I’m pretty confident it will be a long damn time before Jack Bauer can find his way to my house…

On the flip side, I fear 5 years from now, my robot maid will march from my kitchen, with a tray bearing: white store-bought bread toast, smeared with margarine and jam containing aspartame, accompanied by improperly roasted coffee and pasteurized milk from cows bred to stand on concrete and give a billion more gallons of milk than should ever be asked of one cow, who are fed soy meal while they stand knee deep in their own offings.

I mean really, did she not read my blogs at all?  It’s so hard to find good help these days…

Ah well.   For the time being, I’m safe from Big Brother.

For one, apparently computerized systems to note my likes and dislikes are not quite out of the proverbial beta testing woods. Appears that plenty of GIGO (garbage in, garbage out) is still going on.

And two, even when I and thousands of others say, “No” to NAIS, biometric Social Security Cards and  handing our internet system over to the President, the powers that be apparently forget to turn up their hearing aides.

If you aren’t listening to me, than I figure you won’t know where to look, either.

“Let those who have eyes, see and those who have ears, hear.”

Back to School

In recent years my interests have changed drastically – my own health issues, coupled with the trauma, illness and death of family members have led me to research a variety of subjects: nutrition, holistic health modalities, energy healing and the power of  mind and body.

Studying nutrition and Traditional Diets, I fell down the rabbit’s hole of organic farming, sustainability, local resilience, which in turn led me to politics, banking  and every form of sociopolitical and economic system that ends in ‘ism’…

Well familiar with my tendency to ‘think too much’ (to which I reply, “How on earth do you shut your mind off?!?”) I find myself, some moments or even for days, overwhelmed with all the new knowledge I’ve crammed into the file cabinets of my gray matter.

And fast on the heels of being overwhelmed, comes my natural defense mechanism, “So what?   It’s all going to end in 2012 anyhoo – might as well just float along…”

A friend whose job it is to tell people if they are neurotic, psychotic or pretty normal, informs me I am not suicidal – rather I’m caught in escapist fantasy – just as one of my friends longs for a hot tub and cute cabana boy in skimpy clothing, I sometimes think about what Yellowstone blowing will mean.

In other words, I’m trying to escape from my own cultivated knowledge base.

All that aside, my sabbatical made clear one very important fact:  I’ve changed.  Drastically.  The loss of so many staples in my daily life, in so short a time, has brought about changes that may or may not be good for me.  Nevertheless, I realized that what’s important to me and what’s not has moved about 180 degrees and trying to pretend it hasn’t causes oober amounts of stress.

To that end, I came home and set about re-organizing my life.   Trying to figure out how to generate funds to keep web hosting and email campaign accounts paid for with company funds went out the window – instead, I luxuriate in my desire to write via Word Press free blog.  (Thank you so very much!)  With that stress relieved, I found I could write to my heart’s content without worrying about if what I was doing was profitable or not.

(A friend of mine who has spent 50+ years supporting herself via her writing and editing talents informed me that before you write, you should know: what publication is purchasing your article, who their audience is, who advertises in their publication, how many words long, is the topic timely and informative, etc.   At that moment, I decided not to become a professional writer – who needs all that boring stuff to detract from an otherwise enjoyable activity?)

Next, I systematically started cutting out those activities I had pursued in order to generate spendable income.   Running any kind of business, even part-time, with small customer base, causes stress for me now.   Why that is so, I cannot say for sure, but I suspect it’s because of my lack of interest in time schedules, racing around to meet deadlines, etc.   I’m just no longer interested in the fast lane of life.

A lackadaisical approach to customer service seems to be working for many companies, (I mean, even with me boycotting them, they are still in business) but not really a comfortable way for me to function.   My ideas of what customer service should look like really does not mix with my current  dream of daily life…

I decided to keep the lackadaisical side of the equation….

So now, with my daily schedule wiped fairly clean, I peruse the choices of what to fill my days with.

I like my foray into container gardening.  Plants let me know pretty quickly when I’ve messed up.   I take steps to correct my sins and they respond.   Even with the disappointment of The Great Hail Storm of July 4th, some of my green friends have persevered and in turn, have given me hope that recovery can happen, even in the face of catastrophe.

So some kind of green-thumbing is definitely in order for my new life.  Home Decor via plants seems like a useful idea.

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I’ve also been intrigued by the concept of being able to correct imbalances in the body on a daily basis, solely by choosing what kind of tea to drink or what kind of foods to eat or which herbs to add to my soups.  In years past, I asked the Universe to please send a wise woman into my life to take me as student and guide me in the ways of healing via traditional methods.

The student must not be ready, for the teacher has yet to appear.

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During my recent trip to Cheyenne Frontier Days I stumbled upon a new endeavor completely by accident. (Unless, of course, you believe there are no accidents, in which case, I was led directly and efficiently to where I was supposed to be…)

Homeward bound,via Laramie and the beauty between there and Ft. Collins,  in search of a Chik-Fil-A  (and unaware they are closed on Sundays) I drove all along College Avenue in Ft. Collins -  not my normal route – too many traffic lights.

Driving along, searching for supper, my eye catches beautiful color on my left.   Turns out, I have been led by mistake or design to the very doorstep of the Annual Flower Trial Garden of CSU.  Whipping a perfectly legal U-turn, which is deemed acceptable by the passenger navigator (my mother, who loves flowers) we pull into a parking spot and wander through a paradise lit by setting sun and recently blessed by afternoon rain showers.

Oooohhhh!   The wonder and color.

Who ever thought impatiens came in that many shades of pink?  The diversity of Geraniums?   Or the medley of Coleus?

As I wandered through a little slice of heaven on earth, I decided learning Latin might be a good thing.

Just think, by knowing the root words and how they are put together, I can identify just from the plant name if it likes shade or sun, will grow small or large, likes to creep and crawl or shoot straight up – if it was originally aquatic and where it was first found.

Yup.  A new goal formed in my mind.   I shall learn Latin.

Rosetta Stone course is over $200.   College courses run $150-$327.

Instead, I settled on perusing my local library for a copy of Botany in a Day or Gardener’s Latin, just to start.

For a person used to doing and running herself into the ground trying to realize new efficiencies and accomplishments, so maybe tomorrow, she can rest, this change in lifestyle has not been easy.

I’m used to trying to eat the whole elephant in one gulp and if I don’t succeed, everything and I mean everything, is now labeled “Abject Failure“.

In direct contradiction of the old me, I’m starting with the beginner’s guide, for free (or if not available at the library, for $5.88 through used books online), instead of the Advanced Volume (read: 4 inches thick and designed to make me insane and question my intelligence)

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This spring, during an unsuccessful job hunt, I informed the panel interviewing me that, Yes, I am a life-long learner.   Apparently, they were not impressed by my self-education.

Fortunately, I’m currently in a position to pursue activities that may or may not be useful to future job searches.

But I shall be able to say, “Would you like Lactuca sativa on your burger?” (Wikipedia informs me that’s Latin for lettuce…)

Miracle Cure?

New Miracle Cure!

(Warning: During trial reviews, some participants who read this article experienced nausea, insomnia, anxiety, restlessness, decreased sex drive, dizziness, weight gain or loss, tremors, sweating, sleepiness, fatigue, dry mouth, diarrhea, constipation, headaches, suicidal thoughts, severe muscle pain, chest pain, a decrease in white blood cells, resulting in lowered immune defense, strokes, heart attacks, schizophrenia, bi-polar symptoms, osteoporosis, joint pain, temporary memory loss or full-blown amnesia, an increase in uncontrollable rage, and thoughts of hurting themselves or others.)

What, you’re still reading?   Are you kidding me?   Well, okay.

I don’t really have the miracle cure.   I just wanted to know if after reading the warning label if you would still read.

Nasty trick, I know, but the quiet, quick spoken voice that rattles off all the possible side effects of different medications on commercials has got me to wondering how the pharmaceutical companies stay in business.  Not only are they in business, but they are doing well enough to offer to help you with the cost of their product, if you cannot afford it.

How is this possible?

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Years ago, while suffering from phantom joint and muscle pain, a host of diagnoses were tossed at me: chronic fatigue syndrome, fibromyalgia, lupus – – – so home I go to research these ‘diseases’.   After finding out that 3 or more of the listed symptoms could be experienced by just about anyone at some time or another, the fact that it still is unknown for certain what causes these and the medicines prescribed for treatment had worse side-effects than what I was already experiencing, I chose to forgo the tests and look elsewhere for assistance.

After working with a nutritionist, an acupuncturist and changing to a Traditional Diet, I found the health I was looking for.

Nope, it wasn’t fast and it wasn’t always easy.   I had to take a hard look at my lifestyle and how I was spending my time and money.   I sometimes gave up things I really liked to gain the results I desired.

I’ve had to get better at planning ahead for the meals I prepare and try not to give into the urge to do take-out on the days I immersed myself in some other project and forgot to lay out something for supper or get bread baked.

In my enthusiasm to share with others what worked for me, I’ve endured sarcastic comments from those who think organic eating is a bunch of hoo-haw and condemnation from those truly organic, locavores who recycle, vote in every election, own an electric car and solar home and are offended that I, in my transitionary lifestyle, dare to count myself as part of their group.  I also have to explain why yes, sometimes you can find me in the check-out aisle at Wal-mart.

I’ve teetered between the mindset of, “wow, I’m really making progress” to “what the heck am I doing?  I know better………..”

I’ve offered my ear and thoughts to those struggling with grief and in turn, been drowned in it myself.

I’ve come to know that what worked yesterday will not always help me today.

And I know that if I am to be well in mind, body and spirit, I cannot give up when what used to work doesn’t anymore.

In short, I’ve quit looking for a miracle cure and hoping that if I do ’such and such’ my life will be on an ever-even keel and I can just enjoy it with no further researching, experimenting, growth or changes needed.

Instead, I enjoy when it’s good and when it’s not, well, I slug around for awhile in the muck, then try to figure out how I got sucked into that quagmire in the first place.   If I can’t figure it out, or fix it, I yell for help.  And wait to see what shows up.

Sometimes assistance magically appears.   Sometimes, it does, but I don’t recognize it.   And other times, nothing shows up and I figure that’s the Universe’s way of telling me, “Growth Opportunity!”

I’ve quit believing in miracle cures, but I do experience the miraculous.   I’ve switched my focus from finding a ‘cure’ to finding ways to ‘heal’.

Nope, I don’t have all the answers and there are days when a glimpse into my life would make anyone wonder why I put so much time and energy into the things I do.

Fortunately, I’ve also given up the need to convince others I’m right.

(Though I still cannot resist sharing the journey…………..)