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This Day

I took this pic last summer at the Flathead Lake in Montana – and I wrote this passage last night, while sitting in Vietnam Noodle, waiting for our take-out order. Have I mentioned lately life is good?

 

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Ode to Cantaloupe

Ode to Cantaloupe

Dear local Dixon Melons, vine-ripened in Montana,

As soon as I walked into the Good Food Store this morning, I could smell your delicious fragrance perfuming the air – it was then that I knew that today was the day I’ve long waited for, my most favorite day of the summer. Today, was Dixon Melon day!

I was there at the GFS only 3 days ago – I looked for you, then, but sadly you were not there. But today?! Huzzah!! I left the store victorious, with a joyful plan to feast upon you with every meal for the rest of the weekend!

So, thanks, and stuff, for like, ya know, growing and being super awesome – truth be told, though, I’m a little sore at you for spoiling all other cantaloupe for me. In the famed words of Sinead O’Connor: Nothing compares to you.

In gratitude for my local Dixon Melon farmers,
Nicole

 
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Posted by on August 13, 2017 in Creative Writing, Fun

 

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Spiritual vs Secular Mindfulness

Yesterday, I finished an online course offered through PESI by Dr. Christopher Willard, a licensed psychotherapist, educational consultant, and author, entitled: Mindfulness Certificate Course for Treating Kids and Teens: Interventions for ADHD, Anxiety, Trauma, Emotional Regulation and More

The course consisted of 9 modules, totaling in at around 18 hours worth of class time. To learn more about Dr. Willard: http://drchristopherwillard.com/

This class spurred in me a deeper consideration of determining for myself what the differences and pros/cons are in regards to developing mindfulness in a spiritual capacity, verses a secular one. Some people question whether it is even wise at all to separate the two: mindfulness and spirituality. Perhaps these folks are concerned about watering down the potency of mindfulness and losing its true spirit and intention. Or perhaps, like me, they might wonder how a person can teach mindfulness if they themselves do not have their own practice in which to draw experience and stability from.

So, is there a right and wrong way to offer mindfulness? Is there a point when it can become too secular?

As our local Dharma teacher says, and I very much appreciate, the classic Zen answer to any question is: It depends.

Has there ever been – and will there ever be – just ONE way in which to do ANY particular thing ALL the time? I think not.

Read the rest of this entry »

 
 

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Cat on the lap

 

In only the way a cat can, I was commandeered – in the best way possible – unable to break free. And, as we were sitting outside, I was afforded the luxury of time to look up and ponder the merits and inspirational value of the two towering elm tree friends posting guard in our backyard.

So, it was just this morning that I was able to determine, without wavering, that while they are cause for dismay and require great efforts of manual labor at times, their beauty, wisdom, and fortitude offer far more benefit.

I realized, too, that the one directly overhead of me had a sense of humor, as it was pelting me occasionally with small bits of twigs and leaves as I was writing.

P.S I thought it worth mentioning that I have mild-moderate levels of hesitation in fashioning and posting this photo array from pics I took this morning, as there is a part of me that wants to stay in close personal accord with not becoming one of “those” kinds of cat people. But after careful consideration, I decided it was worth the risk.

 
 

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Mindful Morning Saturday

I awoke just before 4:30am and turned on my Mighty Bright book light made in China, patents pending, and slid out from under a mismatched set of sheets, one fashioned from organic cotton made in India and the other I got from the Goodwill, who’s tag I was unable to locate while groping around in the dark trying not to disturb my sleeping husband.

After reciting my daily morning verse: Waking up, my smile greets a brand new day, I padded into the bathroom where I proceeded to use recycled toilet paper, glide on some Tom’s of Maine unscented deodorant, made in the USA, wash my face with 85% organic ingredient soap “made with care in Missoula, Montana,” and run a brush through my hair that I bought in Paris upon realizing that I had managed to hop across the pond without a detangling stick. A brush, I might add, that must’ve been made outside of China, due to its lack of stamped mention of a country of origin.

I then found myself in the kitchen turning on the electric tea kettle, made in China and sporting the words “Do not immerse in water” in five different languages engraved on the bottom, and readying my morning gunpowder green tea, which I order online and has Chinese writing emblazoned on the packaging. And I sip said tea slowly from my most favorite hand-crafted clay mug made by my friend Drew (see pic above), as I ease into the day.

And the day will proceed onward in this fashion – I will use and encounter an endless array of items and products, from both near and far flung places. My day-to-day activities will be due to an endless sea of people having created, fashioned, and made possible my way of living.

What most struck me this morning, as I was fine tuning my attention to my routine, was how much the presence of water factors into my day – and how often I take it for granted. In operation of the toilet, washing my face and hands, preparing tea, boiling eggs for breakfast, filling the cats water bowl, washing dishes, drinking, showering… Being able to turn a handle and have clean water dispensed is a miracle of convenience I don’t think enough about.

So, today, among other things, I celebrate water :)

 
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Posted by on July 22, 2017 in Everyday Practice

 

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On Marriage

Photo Credit: Bill McDavid

 

On Saturday, my husband and I attended the wedding of one of his oldest friends from high school. I wrote this for them:

When I was a little girl, I thought marriage was all pleasantries and rainbows – the sort of which I would reenact with my Barbie and Ken dolls, in their fancy attire and meticulously well-groomed hair, not a stitch affray.

When I was a teenager, I thought marriage was both what you were supposed to do and what drove those, who would otherwise be considered delightful people, a little crazy.

On the cusp of adulthood, just as I was about to open the door to my 20’s, I met the long-fabled, mystically-entrenched, and dangerously-romanticized creature, commonly known as “the one.”

Armed with culturally passed down crappy-ass misinformation about what married life was slated to be and look like and what I, as wife, should do and not do, it’s sort of miraculous we weathered those early seas as well as we did – what with my unpleasant, controlling, passive-aggressive energies steering the ship and all.

But when “the one” and I got married, we made a loving and binding contract. We vowed to grow up together. And that’s what we’ve been doing ever since.

I’ve learned that marriage isn’t something you “do,” it’s about entering into a perpetual state of becoming – becoming someone who’s committed to cultivating their own inner landscape, guided by what’s in the best interest for their most cherished and beloved one. It’s about learning how to be together…and stay together, even when it’s hard. Especially when it’s hard.

Marriage has been, at times, the most painfully challenging endeavor I’ve ever encountered, and will always be the single greatest decision I’ve ever had the great fortune of making.

And even now, all these years later, whenever I stand alone and bear witness to the great and awesome spectacle of a sunrise (which is not uncommon given that I’m a morning person and my “one” most assuredly is not), he’s who my heart calls for to share it with, every…single…time. And this is my fervent wish for you both: that your hearts continue calling for each other, whether you’re near or far apart, happy or sad, sleeping or awake, for the rest of your days.

 

 
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Posted by on July 17, 2017 in Creative Writing

 

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Fireworks

I think part of why I love to watch fireworks is that they can express how I feel about life in a way in which I am unable. The overall sentiment being:

What a miraculous vibrant spectacle this one precious life is!

 

 

 
 

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