Speaking of oranges ....

Suppose you selected a nice bright orange from the stand at the farmer's market.  When you cut it open, you'd expect to see juicy orange sections inside?  You might wonder if it would be sweet or sour, but otherwise, you'd feel pretty confident about what you'd see.

Even if you had never seen an orange inside, the match between the outside and inside would make it a pretty un-surprising experience. A no-brainer, so to speak.

Now take the kiwi.  Its fuzzy, rough, exterior gives no hint of the sweet, juicy, bright green interior.  Someone seeing a kiwi cut open for the very first time would be understandably surprised. But we're all kiwi sophisticates here, right?  We know about the secret green interior, so we're not fooled at all. We have experienced kiwis before. It may have taken a few times, but we're ready for it now.

Now suppose for a moment, that you went to that farmer's market, and you selected a big orange.  And you cut it open, only to find that instead of the orange segments, there was a soft green interior.   A kiwi center in an orange wrapper. Even a sophisticated, in-the-know kiwi pro would be shocked at this point, right?

I was thinking about oranges and kiwis after I stopped for a snack at a neighborhood fast food place the other day.  Ahead of me, heading for the entrance door was a young man wearing what most people would consider gang or street attire.  His pants were half way down his behind, with his underwear showing.  The hat, shoes, shirt and jewelry were all what we have come to expect from young men in what are called "economically challenged" neighborhoods if we're PC or "slums" if we're not. And truth be told, the neighborhood where I had stopped would fit either description. 

As I approached the door behind this young man, he stopped, waited for me, and held open the door.  I thanked him, and he replied "You're welcome, ma'am" and smiled. 

And that got me thinking.  

If I was to look at this young man like the orange, I would have expected his insides to resemble his outside.  I might even have been afraid or at least nervous when he stopped just ahead of me, expecting an action to match his attire and his surroundings. Many people are afraid to stop in or even drive through poorer neighborhoods, because they are absolutely sure the inside and outside are the same. 

If I knew the young man, over time I would have learned something about him.  And based on those experiences, I might have understood that the exterior concealed something entirely different inside. I might have, like the kiwi-experienced, known what to expect. 

But this was something entirely different.  This was the orange outside, with a surprising kiwi inside. And it was wonderful because it snapped me out of my complaisance. 

So now I'm wondering... how often do we act on the basis of our orange or kiwi experiences -- believing we know what's inside. And how often are we wrong, but don't stick around long enough to find out? 

I'm not sure it's even possible, but wouldn't it be wonderful if we could approach each exterior, whether it's a person or an experience or a challenge without being so darn sure we know what's inside?  If we could suspend our judgement, even for just a minute, and wait to see for ourselves with fresh eyes. 

The power of alone time

When I was little, I knew I needed it. I would tell my playmates it was time for them to go home now. It wasn't that I didn't love having them over.  But I also knew, it seems, that enough was enough. And when that time came, I wanted my alone time to play pretend or draw or do whatever it was that my future-writer/artist self needed to do.

So why is being alone sometimes so critical to me? Why does it feel so natural to me, and so odd to others?

Part of it is being a non-belonger.  That doesn't mean I am a loner.  It just means that I don't have a strong drive to be a part of a group.  My identity is not dependent on religious, social or ethnic labels. For those with a strong drive to belong, being alone can be uncomfortable. Their self is primarily defined by the groups they are with. For non-belongers, our "self" is defined internally. So alone is still me.

Another part of it is being creative and artistic.  It's much harder to be creative in a group.  You've probably met others like me -- I'm the one who always tried to get out of group projects at school.  Now you remember, right?  The one who was happy when there was an odd number and someone had to do their report/research project/art alone.  Yup, that was me.

At work, I love my office with its door I can shut when I need to focus on a project. (For me, living heck would be a cubicle!)  When I'm alone at work or at home, I can plan a webpage or a large-format art project or work through the dialog in something I'm writing. When there are people around, my thoughts are more scattered, and I tend to focus on the people rather than the work. Then nothing gets done.

The rest of the reason?  Not sure, exactly.I can guess at some of it.

• I like to read, uninterrupted  And that's hard to do when you're not alone.  
• I am rather introverted, so being around people all the time exhausts me -- I need recharge time before I can be "on" again. 
• And my spiritual life is pretty much inward.  I'm not inspired by group prayer, although the energy is often good.  My soul connection is in silence.

Anyhow, I was surfing the blogisphere, and I came across a blog post about alone time, with an awesome video in it...so for those of you who aren't sure if you need alone time, or who may want it but find the idea kind of intimidating, here is some sage advice on learning how to be happily, joyfully alone. But before you click on it, you might want to stop the blog music -- the player is just to the right, and it's called "Music to Read By" ...

Levels of awareness, levels of mindfulness

The next time you're about to bite into a big juicy apple, like the Granny Smith I have sitting next to my keyboard, stop for a minute or two and consider exactly how that apple got to you.

The first answer might be, I went to the grocery store and bought it. End of story.

But the fact is, it's not! In fact, it's only a tiny and incomplete picture out of the story.

Start from where you are. You bought the apple. But where did the apple come from, before it was on the shelf at your local Giant or Publix or Smiths or wherever you shop?  Someone had to put the apple on display.  Someone had to deliver the apples to the store.  Probably someone had to box up the apples -- for sure, someone had to pick them.

And then there's the farmer.  He or she tended the trees, maybe even planted them from the start.  They had to make sure the trees had everything they needed to grow. Their lives are devoted to growing food for other people to eat!  How cool is that?  And how often do we think about it?

And then there's G-d or nature or Mother Earth, whatever you call it, which provided the water and the soil and the seeds and the sunshine.  And the fact that this apple, and in fact, the entire apple tree, came from a tiny seed -- one just like the one in the apple in your hand.  A seed someone, somewhere did plant, to grow the tree, that grew your apple. And the incredibly, miraculous fact that in that tiny seed are all the instructions for growing a tree, including the leaves and the branches -- as well as everything needed to know how to produce an apple!  All of that in a SEED!  Think of the size of the computer memory that would be needed to handle that level of complexity!

Now to the apple, itself....

And look at the apple itself.  The color...mine is a lovely bright green, about the size of my palm. On the top, the last vestige of its connection to the tree that it came from -- much like an umbilical cord. From seed to tree to my hand. Connected.

I slice open the apple -- the sound is crunch and juicy, the smell of tart apple is all around me. I take a bite.  Sweet-tart.  Very juicy. Firm and crispy.

And here is where the concept in Judaism of a bracha (blessing) comes from.  It's also the core of Buddhist mindfulness. If we pay this kind of attention to an apple, and feel gratitude for all that went into the creation of and arrival of that apple in your hand, one cannot help but want to say a blessing.

Some people say formulaic blessings, one for each kind of food like fruits, dairy, etc.  But I think that runs the risk of making the blessing as rote as the eating often becomes. There are even little booklets of the "official" blessings (I have one) that contain endless lists of foods and the sanctioned blessing for each.

I would rather create my own.  Silently.  A heartfelt connection to the food I'm eating.  No, I do not do it at every meal, or heaven forbid, at every bite as a very over-zealous acquaintance once suggested.  But I do it often enough to keep myself aware that even the apple I bough an hour ago at the grocery store represents a long chain of events and choices before it reaches me. That mindfulness, and the wonder and gratitude that goes along with it, is my bracha.

That certain sunrise....

Sunrise on Deerfield Beach, Florida

There is a certain, almost magical look to sunrise on a beach.  It feels, for a moment or two, that anything is possible...any dream can come true, any mistake can be corrected, any pain can be overcome. 

As I watch the sky being painted in light and breathtaking swirls of pastel pinks and blues and lavenders, it seems that even a whispered word is too loud, too out of place.  Even more so than in a synagogue or church, I feel that saying anything out loud would be sacrilegious. It feels as though I am being given a glimpse into the very process of creation -- a view through G-d's eyes at all the world was meant to be. 

Over the years, sunrises on the beach have been times and places for special moments.  I said goodbye to dear friend one sunrise on a beach a little south of here.  We sat in silence, and watched as the light crept in, the colours and patterns of the morning clouds created before our eyes. We always planned to get together again someday...now years later, it has never happened. A goodbye sealed on a sunrise beach is a forever kind of farewell. I think we both knew that then, but neither of us said it. 

I've sat on sunrise beaches alone, crying for a lost dream.  And I've walked along sunrise beaches with my heart singing in joy and hope and excitement.  I've seen them alone, and with dear friends and family members.  Each time, the experience has been something unique and meaningful  You can't take sunrise on a beach for granted...it won't let you. 

The pictures on this post were taken on a breezy December morning as I sat on the beach in Deerfield Beach, an area just north of Fort Lauderdale.  Except for the one lone soul walking along the water's edge (just visible in one shot), I was alone.  It was a morning of "anything is possible" and all is right with the world. It was a perfect winter sunrise. 

I just joined a meditation and yoga group that meets once a week at sunrise on the beach. I'm excited about the prospect of greeting the sunrise with mindfulness and spirit. Whatever I see and feel there next week, I know it will be something special.  The sunrise would not have it any other way. 

(Posted in honor of Pink Saturday) 

100 Things That Make Me Happy

Lovely, sweet-scented pink roses -- just one or an armful

I was reading Karen Ruby's blog, "A Meaningful Existence" and saw her list of 100 things that make me happy.  What a wonderful exercise to remind us of things we love, things for which we can be grateful, and things we may be neglecting or need to work on adding to our lives.  So here is my list...please create your own, and then send me a link.  I would love to read everyone's list...

This is also my Pink Saturday post for "How Sweet the Sound", because I've added photos of the things on this list that are pink...a little color amid the words!

A hug from someone I love
Walking on the beach at night
Singing along with a favorite song in the car
Being greeted at the door by my cats and dog
Waking up to a view of trees
Windy days
Having time to sit at a café and read without watching the clock
Working on my art projects

Image from candyland22

Scrapbooking
Figuring out what's wrong with a line of computer code
Finding a great new mystery writer
A new book from a favorite writer
Listening to live jazz
Getting a REAL letter in the mail
Getting a flower/flowers from someone
Cottage gardens

Learning something new that changes my view of other things
Moments of spiritual connection
Seeing someone I love across a crowded room
Kisses
Berry season
Houses with tons of natural light
Foggy mornings
The smell of fresh cut grass
Clean sheets

Image from architheque

Handmade quilts on a bed
British comedy
Well-worn wood furniture (primitives)
Old books
Old book stores
Long walks in the city
Long walks in the countryside
Seeing cows in a field
Gardenias
Watching a butterfly flying
Photographing the details on old buildings
Country fairs
Quaint old cottages

Image from Avignon-et-Provence

Quaint new cottages
Curving, hilly roads
Wide roads with lots of green
The first few notes of the overture before a show
Being backstage when the overture starts
Slices of crisp green apple and sharp cheddar cheese
Holding hands
Waking up with the one I love
Rearranging books on a shelf
Cooking without a plan
Cello music
Jazz quartets
Following a fish around while snorkeling and pretending I'm a fish, too
Poetry that does not rhyme
Wearing soft cotton clothes
Laying on the grass and watch the light change through the leaves
Seeing pictures in clouds with my kids
Flying a kite
Seeing old people holding hands
Finding just the right word for something I'm writing
Keeping up on my blog
Waking up after having a good dream
Playing a good game of tennis
Questions that really make me think
Being a mom
Being married to Lance
Petting the soft fur on my puppy's head

Her tongue is pink!  So it counts! 

Going to a football game or baseball game
The smell of spice, pumpkin or autumn-scented candles
Stepping on crunchy leaves
Having a cat on my lap while I read
Having a challenging new assignment at work
Getting rid of things I do not need
Finishing all the laundry and seeing the clean piles
Making a pie with a woven top and seeing it come out of the oven
Finding a good new blog to follow
The feeling of long silk skirts against my skin
Buying pretty shoes
Having a clean, organized purse
Really getting into a prayer-mindfulness
Getting a difficult yoga position right
Seeing the message in a Torah portion (which may not be the one others see!)
Cool evenings
Snuggling under the covers to go to sleep on a chilly night
Putting on socks when my feet are cold

Wearing soft hoodies
Having extra money in the bank at the end of the month
Going out for breakfast
Al fresco dining for any meal
Getting a new lip gloss in a really pretty shade
Candlelit dinners
"Blue time" (twilight)

Going to silly, tacky tourist traps





Fresh air while I sleep
Watching snow fall while cozy indoors
Starting a new journal
Going to the Farm Show & petting all the cows
Walking in Mount Gretna, Pa after dark
Having a my kids and their friends all in the house
Watching a ballet
Daydreaming films scenes or dances while listening to music
Getting "lost" while driving and turning it into an adventure

There is much to be said for knowing what makes us happy...the simple things, the big things, the silly things, the profound things.  Make your list.  Post it somewhere you can see it.  Share it.  Check in with yourself now and again to make sure you're spending the time you need to keep yourself happy.  

Wednesday Morning Music

I've decided to start a new feature in my blog, and I'm calling it Wednesday Morning Music.

Each Wednesday, I will be someplace in the early morning, and I'll share the experience with my readers, jotting down the sounds and sometimes the sights, on whatever paper is handy.

I'm doing this for two reasons. First, it is an exercise in mindfulness for me. These entries will force me to pay attention to the sounds and sensations around me, rather than focusing on the day ahead or my worries. Second, it's a way of bringing my blog-world friends into my world at least one morning a week.

So here is Wednesday Morning Music #1...