If you chance to meet a frown(ing salad)

No one likes a frowny face.

Change it for a smile.

Make the world a better place

by smiling all the while.

One of the benefits of self-employment: Rob and I get to eat together—not every meal of every day, mind you, but we share a fine majority of our repasts. Family meals, being with people at table—so healthy. I'm convinced, and there are studies that back me up on this, that breaking bread together heightens the nourishing impact of food, especially when the folks gathered 'round the board allow themselves to relax and invest in good conversation. Do you believe in shared meals? The simplicity or complexity of the spread make less difference to the experience than the seasonings of love and friendship and goodwill. Certainly it's great to aim for food that's interesting and flavorful, but I for one will take a communal PB&J over lonely gourmet just about any day of the week, any meal. It's the company that makes the meal truly delicious.

Rob and I aren't very good at routine—often our meals take place at odd hours—but we do follow a few constants. One of them is our breakfast pattern. When we sit down together for this meal, we pray and ask for a blessing on our food, and another on our shared study time. We eat and visit, and then when the food's gone and we're sipping our Pero or smoothies or chamomile tea or what-have-you, one of us will bring up some point or principle or story from the scriptures and we'll have a small discussion about it. We pull from our personal studies to prepare for this morning time. Then we wash up dishes together (sometime this step gets neglected, ahem), and start the day in earnest with a kneeling prayer. It's a really grounding habit that has helped us come to know ourselves and each other better, and learn about the nature of life and happiness and truth. We are stronger, closer as a couple, and closer to God because we observe this practice. We're not perfect in our process—sometimes one or both of us are stressed or fatigued, or anxious about the day, but even when we carve out the merest moment to slow down and focus on something made of light, we are blessed.

I highly recommend that you give ideas like these a try with your own family. If you live alone, or have other circumstances which require adaptation, then you have a perfect opportunity to exercise your creativity. A shared meal can be so good for the soul. And adding the element of spiritual feasting makes mealtime exponentially more sustaining.

Bon appétit.

Needs and wants

It's spring! The real beginning of the new year. I've been anticipating this day by eating flowers. The first front yard dandelion (of many to come—sorry, neighbors) peeped its yellow eye at me and I picked it and popped it into my mouth. It tasted like sunshine. The first violet appeared and I ate that too—delicious. I love spring so I could eat it up. I'm hungry for it it. Gimme. It's time to wake up, be reborn. I want to internalize this fresh gorgeous light and pop out all over with flowers and happy weeds.

It's been a while since I checked in with the Google Oracle and asked the great and powerful internet to explain me to myself. Here's what it revealed today:

• Georgia needs nuclear power.
• Georgia needs more virtual schools.
• Georgia needs migrant labor.
• Georgia needs a win here.
• Georgia needs more friends and fewer fans.
• Georgia needs more trauma centers.
• Georgia needs several transportation megaprojects.
• Georgia needs fosters.
• Georgia needs commuter rail.
• Georgia needs willpower.
• Georgia needs you.
• Georgia needs Christmas angels to help.
• Georgia needs assessment.
• Georgia needs to put foot down.
• Georgia needs more sunlight.
• Georgia needs to read more honestly.
• Georgia needs a home.
• Georgias need hope.

• Georgia wants to hear from farmers.
• Georgia wants strategic alliances.
• Georgia wants Rolling Stones to tour in 2012.
• Georgia wants less water released.
• Georgia wants to help husband get a job.
• Georgia wants foreigners to pronounce her name differently.
• Georgia wants to shock people into ending childhood obesity.
• Georgia wants to outlaw vasectomies.
• Georgia wants to make miscarriage a crime.
• Georgia wants a no child waiver.
• Georgia wants guarantees.
• Georgia wants a bit more than a penny.
• Georgia wants everyone to go fishing.
• Georgia wants to stand up without props.
• Georgia wants to come up.
• Georgia wants to order respect.
• Georgia wants to be on your mind.
• Georgia wants to help lead the way.
• Georgia wants her seat back.

Cookie art #1

On Valentines Day, our big day of two family surgeries (a new kidney for Dad B. courtesy of his brave, loving 2nd daughter, Heidi), a few of us were taking a lunch break at Becca & Martin's, less than a mile from the hospital. Becca graciously allowed us to dip into the leftovers of a $20 box of fortune cookies, and discover together what lay in store for us. I felt a little ripped off when I first read my luck: "Nothing's perfect," but then, okay, I had to laugh. It's true—even my free cookie—not perfect. Primed with that baseline perspective, I reached again into the magical mystery box and cracked open another gem:

What? It's like the fortune writer was interrupted, bound and gagged, just as that one thing was about to be revealed to me. See? There's a comma, then nothing more. No answer. I'm supposed to figure out on my own what that one thing is so I can stop focusing on it, without focusing on it? Paradox, you win again!

But the cookies and I continue our relationship. Saturday I walked with Rob to Chao's and bought three bags full, yessir, yessir—52¢ for 12, a bargain! I took them home, packed them into an earthy ginger gar, and set myself a challenge, which by the way, is not too focused on that one thing; all I have to do is open a cookie and respond to whatever I read inside. Maybe with writing. Maybe with drawing. Maybe with movement. Whatever. The point is to create with a medium that suits my mood, be it ink or breath.

So. My first cookie? Opened it Sunday night. Thought about it all day Monday. It predicted: "You will be surrounded by things of luxury." Seems like everyone has a natural pathway pre-set in the brain to process a fortune like this one by painting elaborate pictures of how beeyooteefull life will be after the prize is won. It's all future-based, and that's fine for motivational carrot-dangling and occasional masochistic self-delusion, I suppose, but what about the luxuries that are right here right now? Chopped liver?

What things of luxury do I or can I enjoy without waiting, and surround myself with always, no matter what my budget or circumstance may be? The wherever you go, there you are kind of luxuries. I started counting them out on my fingers and toes. I got into a groove with c-words mostly, and I suppose that's yet another proof of my tendency toward focusing too much on that one thing. Some of these could do with a little explanation if you are to have a fuller understanding of this blogger, but that would make for a much longer post, so I'll leave it to your imagination unless you want to discuss any of these elsewhere.

Care
Conversation
Change
Commitment
Consequence
Consideration
Conversion
Creation
Christianity
Questions
Concentration
Conviviality
Country
Crosswalks
Correspondence
Conjugal conubium!
Kindness
Counsel
Cooperation
Choice
Companionship
Community
Comedy
Counting blessings
Collaboration
Cleanliness
Compassion
Callings
Callouses
Canoodling
Consecration
Colors
Classics
Covenants
Cultivation
Charity
Quiet mind

Good for starters. It's an astonishingly luxurious life, and that's only me getting hung up on 1/26th of the alphabet.

Yesterday, for the purpose of celebrating (not to mention gratuitously flaunting) mein aforementioned überwealth, I spent some time luxuriating with my mates, Jeanne, Deborah, Lucy, Aaron, and Jeromiah. We made an enthusiastic and rather sticky attempt at group cooking—our intention: fruity homemade marshmallows. We now call ourselves the Marshketeers. Observe how this Big Event illustrates our genuine affluence:

creation, concentration 

callouses, choice

counsel, collaboration 

conversation, cultivation

companionship, kindness

conviviality, community

care, consideration

compassion, comedy
(Jeromiah's response to a suggestion: sausage-flavored marshmallows?)

commitment, cooperation

colors, counting blessings

I'm rich. My life is flooded with abundance. I don't have to wait for some magic to happen to see myself surrounded by the things of luxury. Maybe there are more creature comforts coming to me and mine, or maybe there aren't, but I've got nothing to complain about. I've got plenty of plenty.

And you're kind of rich too, aren't you? Tell me how.

Enlightening

Jake gets up at 4:00am and works. He says, "I like mornings," and asks me, "You're still a night owl?" He brags about seeing the perfect moon glow fully over the eastern horizon and dangle Venus, clear and lovely, as if from a string. "I love mornings," he says, and Rob agrees. "They're so quiet."

Today I woke up before the sun and crawled out of bed, choosing the birth of the day over neutralizing another wakeful night with sleep. I said to myself, "I like mornings. I don't want to live my life missing them."

It's overcast so I'll get no peek at the waning moon nor attendant planet, but the light, however diffused, still grows, and the world feels quiet enough for thinking. I'm glad for a new writing app, Momento, even though the tiny typing on an iPhone is hunt and peck. My words are coming back. I believe they've been there right along, circling and watching for me to rise and enjoy them. Just like the sun.

Stuff I didn't buy 3

Rob and I made a quick stop at our favorite secondhand store this afternoon so Rob could hunt for some amps. No luck for him, but I must say I found some gems. I picked up a great book of crème brûlée recipes and a collection of classic Welsh short stories. But as usual, the more interesting items were the ones I didn't buy. Sometimes just having photos of them is enough, especially the writings that are left behind in old notebooks and journals. This time I got to see the inner workings of the minds of two young boys:

"... and at the end of the Day i'd Rather stay." Yeah, so would I, kid. 

Yesss! Something really useful on the last page
 of a notebook full of spelling lists and long division. 

And here is almost an entire book club set of one of my all-time favorite reads, Haven Kimmel's hilarious first installation of her childhood memoirs. Next to those eight copies of A Girl Named Zippy is her excellent follow-up book. I was so tempted to grab them all for a mere two bucks apiece, but my inner accountant advised me to be practical. *sigh* Glad I have my own copy—might need to dust it off and dip into it to combat the January greys that I know are coming. Maybe you should pick up a copy for yourself, and we can spend an evening laughing about it together and reminiscing over some of our own family stories. We could even whip up some fake blood and enjoy a little recess from life. Howzaboutit?

It's Haven heaven at D.I.!

Oh, how lovely was the morning

The First Vision, by Warren Luch 1990 (featured in Ensign, January 2005)

I so respect a man who isn't too proud to stop and ask for directions when he's lost.

Happy birthday to one of my most revered heroes—Joseph Smith. Because of his influence in my life, I have a deeper understanding of my reason for being and a clearer, more compelling purpose for continuing on. Thanks to him I have a good grasp on my origin and my destination, and a comprehension that my journey is about joy. He has helped nurture my faith in God, in truth, and in myself.

I love that he was a seeker, and a worker. I love that he asked important questions. I love that he listened for answers, and then put them to good use. I love that he never ever stop inquiring, and was never ever passive.

Recently, I did some sound editing for a collaborative art installation that Rob and I are exhibiting locally. A phrase from one of the interviews I worked on has been rolling around in my head for days and days: "serving... and loving... and making...." These are some of the foundational priorities in my life, elements of creation. Thank you, Joseph Smith, for showing me how to create, and to know my Creator.

Because of Joseph Smith, the feelings I have during the Christmas season are sweeter and more sacred. All I have to do to feel the holiday spirit is to pull back from the red-nosed swagger of commercialism and meditate on what I know of the life and mission of Jesus Christ, remember the quiet stirrings I've experienced within my own soul, and celebrate light and truth, questions and answers, and creating.

Happy birthday. Thanks for teaching me. You've been God's hands in my life, and have helped me see how and why to be that for others.

And I say it's alright

Oh, oh, winter solstice!

When was I ever this glad for the sun to begin its yearly climb?

I am hungry for light.

(An ice ball we kicked along the path.)

Sun, sun, sun, here it comes!