A Healthy Diet

When my mother-in-law passed away recently, the traditional and thoughtful gifts of meals and various snacks and goodies started to arrive at the house soon thereafter.   I’m not sure how this tradition started, but I’m sure its beginnings were part nurturing (“you need to keep up your strength”) and part making life a little simpler during a challenging time (“let me cook so you don’t have to”).  It truly is a blessing not to have to worry where your next meal will come from, and it’s also interesting to consider how we use food as a focal point to gather around.  The tradition and value of breaking bread together is old as can be, and is used over and over again in our society during times of great significance, joy, and heartbreak. 

At the same time, we keep hearing that our society on average is overweight to the point of obesity, which we all know is a serious problem that we must address.  I know I need to lose a few pounds and struggle to find the right mix of exercise, foods, and behaviors that will help me become more fit.

It’s quite ironic that we’re overweight, while at the same time we hear reports that we spend less time sitting around the table together for family meals.  It seems logical that if we’re running around so much that we’re too busy to stop long enough to prepare and share a traditional sit-down meal, we might be less overweight, but that doesn’t appear to be the case. 

Maybe we’re missing something.  I know some of the most enjoyable and meaningful times of my life have taken place during either the preparation of or sitting down to a “big meal.”  While Thanksgiving and many other national and religious holidays have significant meals associated with them, the smaller events that can happen from day-to-day are also opportunities for nourishing our spirits as well as our bodies. 

A conversation on an average Wednesday around the dinner table, a last minute gathering for steamers and beer with friends on a after a long week, or a Saturday afternoon spent preparing food for a dinner party all have the ability to slow things down and make special moments that fill up our emotional buckets more than our stomachs.  My mother-in-law was not a foodie per say, but she understood the value of breaking bread together; she fully enjoyed the process of planning a dinner party, spending a night out at a restaurant with a group of friends, or a simple lunch with her daughter. 

She also understood the value of leftovers; those reheated stories from the past that bring back memories and bring forward laughter.  She knew that any meal, while important, was just the centerpiece on the table.  The main course itself was left to those gathered around that table.  They were the ingredients and seasoning she used to make a delicious meal that would last longer in the hearts of those in attendance, than in their stomachs.  

She knew there is no such thing as an overweight spirit, and she knew that while food and drink should be consumed in moderation, relationships and time with family and close friends are the fruits of a healthy diet.

Propping open doors

I recently had the opportunity to spend a few days “away from it all” with my family by the ocean.  It was warmer than we would have liked, but at night it helped to prop open all the doors in our little cottage so that the ocean breeze could keep the air moving throughout the house.  (I won’t mention that my daughters got the only room with air-conditioning.)  Suffice it to say, we were clearly not the first people to take such an approach with the doors; there were a number of doorstops, hooks and blocks in the house, each positioned next to a door for the sole purpose of holding it open so the air could freely pass through.

While winding down one especially uncomfortable night, I envisioned some of the other homes we saw in our travels during the day.  Some had their windows wide open like ours, curtains fluttering in the breeze, yet others displayed air-conditioning units lodged into various windows.   If you took a second look you could identify those with central air because all their windows and doors were sealed up tight.  I envied them a bit this night -- all closed up so the “conditioned” air did not escape.  They had successfully shut out the discomfort of this sticky night and were probably sleeping soundly; oblivious to the muggy night air.

While I would have enjoyed having some cooler air myself, the natural feel of the unaltered breeze had its own redeeming qualities.  I laid there thinking how nice it was to be away from the sometimes too hectic pace of life and the challenges that went along with it, while I savored the salt air-infused breeze emanating from the ocean.  One of the reasons I think many people are drawn to the ocean is that the ocean never seems to sleep.  The waves continue, the breeze does not wan, and that is how it sometimes feels with things in life.  Maybe that’s why we sometimes just shut them all out.    We close the windows and doors and create a safe place for ourselves where we can be “comfortable.”  Our air conditioned fellow vacationers were indeed comfortable, but had they missed out on something by creating their safe haven from the heat?

We can’t always keep ourselves open to the challenges and pitfalls of life; sometimes it’s just too much to deal with and we end up feeling like we need a break from it all.  It seems to me, though, that if we remember to open ourselves up on a regular basis, we’ll see that much of the bluster of our problems will pass right through with hardly a notice.   Some days it sure is hard to stay open with the whirlwind of chaos around us, but tonight I’ll remember how good being out in the open really feels.  Even if I have to prop myself up to feel it, I’ll remember that I can’t enjoy the beautiful breeze if I keep everything boarded up.

 

All Broken Up

It’s odd to think that you can be happy when something you cherish gets broken.   You work so hard to gather nice things into your life, protect them, maintain them with loving care and then they end up broken.  Depending on what it is that breaks, your heart sometimes breaks along with it.  

There are lots of material things that you can keep safe, protect from clumsy hands or outright restrict from use.   All of us have special cabinets or drawers where we keep those cherished items that mean so much to us.  We keep them closed up and locked down so they are not damaged and as a by-product of all that protection they’re never used and perhaps never provided the opportunity to serve the purpose for which they were originally created.  That’s a shame, but at the end of the day, they are just things. 

I’m grateful today that I did have something break.  What I broke was a mixture of things that I had worked very hard for many years to create.  They were a cobbled together assortment of items that I had gathered from all my experiences in life to-date.  One by one, I piled them all up and created a wall against my own belief that I am meant to be happy and joyous. 

I’m having one of those plateau moments in my life (where you can see something you had been missing before).  Nothing too dramatic;  I’m not changing jobs, upheaving my family or becoming a vegan (I just like my steak too much), but I have had a realization that although I’m a fairly well-adjusted happy person, that I’m actually worthy of being happy.  There was something in my mind, heart, and soul that always doubted that I had earned the right to be happy, that I was a good enough person to warrant all the blessings I’ve had in my life.   I had a happy childhood and have a happy marriage, great kids and great friends, but I was always waiting for the other shoe to drop.  I was expecting that at some point soon “the big guy” was going to realize that the scale was tipped too far in my favor, prompting him to make a needed correction. 

Through a simple conversation with a good friend, I now know that I’m supposed to be happy; that it’s part of the plan and I don’t need to feel guilty about it.  Sure, I need to take care of those less fortunate than myself, but not by feeling guilty for being loved and content in my own life. 

Some of that cobbled together wall is still there, but it now bears a gaping hole, through which I can see many of the things it was “protecting” me from.  What a shame.  Hopefully you don’t have this same wall in your life, but if you do, it’s probably holding you back from your intended purpose as well.  If so, give me a shout, I’ve got a wrecking ball you can borrow.

Characters and Figures

In every good book there is a plot line that introduces the reader to the person one could describe as “a real character,” as well as the person(s) who must build their internal character in order to become the heroic figure in the story.  

A co-worker recently brought this to mind while imparting to me her annoyance with another individual.  My co-worker was frustrated with this other person’s lack of substance, and vented to me that “my husband calls these types of people cartoon characters.”  

I suppose we all know people that act like this from time-to-time.  They appear as two-dimensional, non-authentic, and seem to keep putting unnecessary challenges in our way.    I suppose every story has one or two of these characters, even yours and mine. 

Contrast this buffoon-like character with the lead figure of any story; the genuine and real person that can be relied upon to save the day.  In great books and in real-life, people whose actions resonate in this way are referred to as historical or heroic figures, and that is quite a contrast to a flat cartoon character.  Even the word figure (or figurine) connotes a three-dimensional quality, which all makes me wonder, can a character become a figure? 

With this thought in the back of my head, I went about my busy week.  A busy but good week.  I had the privilege of attending an end-of-year celebration for the new South Burlington Mentoring Program, where a number of local community members gave of themselves to spend some time as a Mentor to an elementary student.  Throughout this event I could see the early shaping of some young characters into future figures.  These wonderful young people had already been blessed by the loving hands of their families and teachers and now had this  “bonus” mentor to support them in their evolution into future figureheads of our community. 

Follow that up with an event the next night during which the Knights of Columbus gathered to make a substantial donation to Camp Ta-Kum-Ta.  Here I could see many still evolving but very mature figureheads of our local community giving back in their own humble and passionate way.

Between these two events there were hundreds of different stories, some just starting out, some at a midpoint, and yet others within reach of their pinnacle.  In every tale there are the main players, the individuals who have center stage, in essence, the person(s) the story is about. 

In real life though, we each have our own story, where we are subservient to no other character or figure.    We get to make the story about anything we feel passionately about and that includes making it not wholly about ourselves. 

As  we maneuver the twists and turns on the path of our own story, we’ll inevitably meet other characters. Some will seem two-dimensional and may appear to change our self-described plot, but in truth, they are just part of our story, placed there for a reason; to help us add the dimensions we need to become our full-figured selves.

Kneading and Knowing

There is nothing like the smell of homemade bread wafting through the house. It’s been awhile since I’ve made any, but today seemed like a good day for it. Making good bread is a bit of work, but the final product is worth it every time. It’s the kind of thing that delivers a sense of accomplishment while at the same time providing the opportunity to give of myself for someone else’s pleasure. (After all, I’m not going to eat both loafs by myself!)


For the faint of heart or those that have culinary challenges, know that the process of making bread is not complex. The ingredient list is short; usually flour, salt, yeast, and water, some hard work in the form of kneading, waiting awhile to let it rise (maybe write a bit…), giving them one last bit of work, and then bake until done. The outcome fills the house with an unmistakable and comforting aroma.

In my opinion, the best breads use just the simplest of ingredients, including the yeast, which most people consider the “magic” of the bread making process. In reality, the yeast is just a single-celled organism and not at all complex or magical. The magic happens when you work the dough -- that’s when you trigger the process that helps to strengthen the dough and enrich the breads with their unique qualities.

The more energy we invest in the early part of our process, the more complex and complete our result will be. The focus of our attention will be stretched and pulled, but more importantly it will be strengthened by the all the measured ingredients we use and eventually activated by the most simplistic ingredient of them all.

At some point in the process, it will become apparent that we have laid the groundwork and we will see that they are ready to rise on their own. While tempting to keep our effort focused on them, the time will have come for us to leave them alone and let them build on what we started them with. We’ll look in on things in a while and we’ll be amazed at how much growth has taken place. At some point they will probably need us again, one last shaping moment, a gentle one this time. Our work is really done, but it will be nice to have one more opportunity to impact the final outcome.

Then before you know it, they’re going to be complete. Even though we’ll have been involved much of the time, it will seem like the process had just started a few moments ago. We’ll be able to recall the hard work it took to get to this stage but we won’t feel the hard work. Instead we’ll be happy to bask in the warmth of what’s in front of us, fully aware that we may have been the cook in the kitchen, but like any good bread, the magic is in creating the right mix of ingredients that allows for their own internal growth.

And we’ll know that the kneading was just the starter.

Flying Lessons

I was early for the meeting and the day was unseasonably warm, so I took my time walking across the parking lot toward the building. Just ahead was a flock of birds, robins I think, pecking the lawn for food. As I slowly approached, they stirred and flew up from the lawn to the trees just to the right. A small number lingered on the lawn though, seemingly considering their options. Seconds later, a few more flew up to those same trees and settled in. Just two birds remained on the grass until one took flight, yet did not head for the safety of his flock, but instead flew directly overhead and swooped to the left to a much higher perch in the grand trees lining the rear of the lot. His partner soon followed. I watched the two of them land in the still barren trees and then turned back to observe the rest of the flock. After a moment, as if second-guessing their choice, the flock departed the smaller trees and joined their two rebellious friends in the larger grove.

While I continued to wait for my friends, this “birds of a feather” display brought to mind a moment from long ago; my fifth grade science class, and more specifically, the actions of a classmate.

Our teacher had presented us with a simple experiment and asked us to hypothesize the outcome. He placed two identical candles on a scale, one on each side and asked us if he lit one, whether it would lose mass or not, causing the scale to tip. Almost immediately, a classmate raised his hand and suggested that since the wax would just melt, the answer was no, the scale would not tip. Now this particular student was bright and confident and as a result, other students soon parroted his answer. Eventually, the teacher asked us to raise our hands if we agreed with the theory; all of us did.

All of us, that is, except this one kid. He had a different theory and was not afraid to be “out there” by himself with his own opinion. With the majority of us supporting the same answer, we thought this other kid was clearly a “bird brain.”

As you may have figured out already, the lone student was right. Some of us were wrong because we just had the wrong answer. We had thought it through and just got it wrong. That happens to everyone from time to time. Most of us, however, got it wrong for an entirely different reason. We got it wrong because we followed the crowd without thinking. We all flew off into the trees, not because we thought it was necessarily right, but because we wanted the safety of staying with the flock.

That one kid flew off on his own. He had his own point of view, his own beliefs, and was strong enough to be unaccompanied. Just like that robin though, I doubt he’s alone now.

Simply too complex

Our world is very complex; too complex some days. There are so many things that connect with each other that it seems daunting to try and do anything when you consider all of the potential impacts and downstream effects. As a student, you know how complex your homework can be, with one lesson building on the next. If you’re in the working world, you are probably all too aware that the economics of our world make the office a more complex place than ever before. It’s downright amazing how things we do in our local area can have nearly immediate impacts in other parts of the world; a direct reality of a global marketplace I guess.

Of all the complexities of life, the human-based ones continue to be the most thought-provoking. Relationships have always been intricately woven fabrics that time-and-time again deny explanation. Whether it be a close-knit connection between two people who appear to be polar opposites of one another, or the clash between individuals or groups that claim to be aligned in their beliefs, yet can’t seem to get along.

The complexity of it all can be paralyzing some days and for me and today is one of those days. Nearly everything I come in contact with seems bigger than I can handle; too unwieldy, too confusing, or is so interconnected to other people and processes that I’m not sure what I should do!

I’m learning that acknowledging what I’m dealing with is a good start. Taking a pause to step back and assess the situation helps. It gives me some distance to evaluate the situation from a new vantage point, which brings to mind the wise advice of my father in-law.

Whenever I would ask Charlie for guidance, he would always preface his response in the same way. First, he’d hold up his hands, fingers spread and palms facing me, as if to say; “Stop, I’ve heard enough.” Not in a forceful way, making me feel shutdown or put off, but in a gentle way , followed by the phrase “It’s very simple. What you want to do is…” and then he would go on to explain how to take his short-cut, fix the washing machine, patch the dry wall, or confront the person who was my current antagonist. To be truthful, his “very simple” advice did not always pan out to be right, or even simple for that matter (of course that could be more about how I implemented it). Moreover, what I took away from his advice giving over the years was his standard approach and opening line. “It’s very simple” he would say, and that gave me comfort; it gave insight into his very healthy perspective. Start with the attitude that’s it’s simple, and you’ve got a better shot of it actually turning out that way.

Charlie was right, too. Most things are simple, especially the people ones. Want to be treated nice, be nice. Want to be loved, love, and on and on.

It’s very simple…