PEACE IS A COURAGEOUS ACT

There's a place in our house that I return to over and over again when life seems overwhelming. When the events of the world or the space within the walls in which we live are just too much for me to bear. This particular room is small, dark unless intentionally illuminated, and quiet. I generally find myself curled up on the floor, forehead pressed firmly into the carpet beneath. This is the place where I cry out to the benevolent God I so often can't understand. My prayers come out as cascading sobs, angry release, and desperate pleas which all seem to culminate in a stillness so still it seems irreverent to breathe.

More and more of the world is being lit with holy places for me. The more I seek, the more I'm able to find thin spaces. Places where heaven and earth settle into this divine dance so subtle it's easy to miss yet so immeasurably powerful it's life changing. In these holy expanses or momentary pauses in time, the beauty is almost too forceful for my body to hold. I begin to understand what it means to collapse in the presence of God.

So there's these moments.

And then there's moments that send me to my closet, stunned with fear and grief and pain.

The recent news has been riddled with a story of hate and violence and prejudice and death. It's too much to hold. Too much to carry. Too much.

And so I collapse at the feet of The Magnificent and I plead for courage and love and forgiveness. I beg for hope and for peace - for me, for you, for all. I allow the pain in - the fear, the grief. I let it do its work in me. I cry for us all but I also cry for all of those places tucked within my body and soul that harbor prejudice and hate, fear and grief unexpressed.

I let it out.

Because if I don't let out these malevolent thoughts and feelings, they grow. Subtly over time they expand and push and begin to take over. They begin to color the way in which I see the world and people. And then one day a small, seemingly insignificant thing flips the switch and unleashes a furious storm.

But I let it out. I say all the vicious, cruel things I hold inside. I admit my fears and angers and observed injustice. I yell and scream and rant and cry. I release it all. Every last thing within me and then I collapse into the arms of Grace. Into the protective lap of The One who created me and calls me tov, good.

I let peace wash over me, compassion fill me. And then I get up, wipe my nose and eyes, drink some water and open the door.

I let the light in and then I go out.

This is my act of peace. This is my response to that which I can't control and understand.

Grace. Hope. Peace. Love. Compassion. Courage. Forgiveness. Surrender.

These are the weapons I choose.

Rather than responding to fear and violence with fear and violence, I work to accept them as teachers. As instruments that can tear me open, refine and remold me, and stitch me back up again - stronger, deeper, more whole. And then I turn all this energy towards healing and peace-making, using the unique gifts I've been given.

I paint. I meditate and practice yoga. I teach. I write. I raise my kids to bring sunshine and beauty to the world with determination and endurance. I cook. I look into the eyes of the people I meet and I smile. I get my hands dirty with the goodness of earth. I paddle board and swim and play games. I laugh and cry and celebrate this breath right now. I show up in the lives of those I care for most in the ways I'm able. I walk in the grass and water and sand. I snuggle and read to my girls. I enjoy time with my husband. I eat outside and dance in the rain. I swing and watch the clouds.

I do whatever I can to cultivate peace in me, hoping it flows out to those around. And then I surrender to The One, the ultimate provider of peace.

May you find a space to call holy. A space where you find yourself face down, confronting the depths of your being. And may you have the courage to go in. To go in, get messy, do the uncomfortable and painful work necessary to release and to grow.

And may you emerge alight with the power of peace.

Namaste*, friends.

*Namaste means the Light in me sees and honors the Light in you.

A DIFFERENT LOOK AT LOVE AND WARM OAT CEREAL with medjool dates, Hunza raisins, and Indian spices

Valentine's day is one cloaked in controversy and fluff and expectation. It can be beautiful in it's most humble sense - a day set aside to show those around you how much you care. It can be a day to pause and acknowledge the beautiful person you are. But it can be painful - a reminder of loss or disappointment or what never was.

But today, on this day of love, I wonder if we focus on a bit larger picture.

I love the idea of love God [or Spirit or whatever designation you've bestowed on this essence we understand as larger than ourselves] and love others.

I've found that sinking into this mystery of Spirit, sitting quietly in its presence, has led me into greater compassion for others. Rather than reacting from my own place of hurt, I am slowly learning to see first this light of Spirit we all share. A oneness we can enjoy because we are human and alive and here, on this earth, together. Differences slowly break under the weight of grace. Everything around is alive with a gentle yet powerful pulse.

In this place, wounds can be healed. A larger, more grand view of life set in place.

I don't write this as a theoretical idea - a notion I believe but haven't tested to be true.

Over the last two years I've worked intentionally to heal the brokenness stored deep within the crevices of my body, some a lifetime old. I've delved into yoga as more than a physical practice, but as a way of being. I've critically thought through the faith I was given at birth, wrestled it, and released what needed to go. I've grieved and celebrated and faced down all the fears and emotion I expend so much energy desperately trying to silence. And I've asked all the questions I've been afraid of. I've made space in my life for doubt and confusion and settled into not having the answers to some very big things.

And I've come out of all of this still walking. Still breathing. Still smiling although now in more settled, free, and authentic way.

On this day we call Valentine's, may you sink into whatever discomfort arises. May you equally melt into the joy. May you welcome all of the feelings that rise to the surface and give them a place at your interior table, acknowledging their importance and worth in your life. And then may you embrace the ones that lead you to a deeper sense of loving God and loving others. May you have the courage to go deep within yourself with a powerful sense of curiosity, dig up what lies there, and move into a place so much grander than you could ever imagine.

“The most beautiful people we have known are those who have known defeat, known suffering, known struggle, known loss, and have found their way out of the depths. These persons have an appreciation, a sensitivity, and an understanding of life that fills them with compassion, gentleness, and a deep loving concern. Beautiful people do not just happen.” Elizabeth Kubler Ross

[ABOUT THE RECIPE]

This morning I woke up with this intense need for a warm, nourishing, grounding, and balancing breakfast. This recipe is my go to, especially when daybreak presents itself in the single digits. The spices found in the Korma powder are excellent at warming the body from the inside and anchoring the airy, empty feeling that so often comes from eating non-seasonally within the winter season [for example, cold salads and ice cream when the earth is covered in white]. Adding strong spices increases the flavor and satisfaction of the food, thus decreasing the need for excessive sweetener and salt.

[THE RECIPE]
Serves 4

1 1/2 c. old fashioned rolled oats
3 - 4 c. water [adjust to thickness desired, less water will give you a thicker cereal]
1/8 c. chia seeds
2 T. ghee
1 heaping tsp. Korma powder [see recipe below]
1/4 tsp. cardamom powder
1/4 tsp. ground ginger
1/4 tsp. sea salt
6 - 8 medjool dates, pitted and thinly sliced
1/4 c. Hunza golden raisins

Garnish options: maple syrup or raw honey, walnuts, pumpkin seeds, almonds, fresh or frozen berries, cut apple or pear, milk of choice, toasted coconut flakes

Korma Powder Recipe:

1 T. whole coriander seeds
1 T. whole cumin seeds
1 T. whole fennel seeds
1 T. whole mustard seeds
1 T. whole fenugreek seeds
1 T. whole cardamom seeds
1 T. poppy seeds
1 T. whole pepper seeds
1 T. ground cinnamon
1 T. ground ginger
1 T. ground turmeric
1 tsp. ground cloves

Place all Korma powder ingredients in a spice grinder or Vitamix dry container. Blend on high until a very fine powder is achieved. Transfer to an glass container with tight-fitting lid. Store in a cool, dark place.

In a medium size sauce pan, combine oats, chia seeds, cardamom, ginger, Korma powder, and sea salt. Add water and ghee and bring to boil over medium-high heat. Once water boils, reduce heat to low, add dates and raisins, and cook until all of the water has been absorbed, stirring frequently. Add more water for a thinner consistency.

Divide into bowls and top with garnishes desired. Serve warm.