Red Cedar

As many of you know, I have been sick for the better part of January and am only now considering myself mostly recovered. Even so, I managed to make all but five of the meals I scheduled in January. Those meals that I missed out on have been added to this month’s plan so I can at least try them and see what I think.

One thing I found with being sick is that even though the meal plan was overwhelming on my sickest days, for the most part I found that it helped me to shop for and make decent meals when I didn’t feel in the least inspired or creative.

(And for the record – yes I do look that spotlessly made-up in the kitchen after a full day of work – naturally).

Saturday, February 1: Birthday Party Dinner – Moroccan Chicken with Lemon and Olives, Cardamom Meatballs, Hummus and Laffa Bread, Couscous, Cucumber/Mint Salad
Monday, February 3: Curry Chicken and Rice Casserole
Tuesday, February 4: Leftovers
Wednesday, February 5: Thai Pork and Noodle Soup
February 6-9: Out and/or away

Monday, February 10: Claypot chicken rice with shitake mushrooms w/Stir-fry bok choi
Tuesday, February 11: Pacific Pork Kebabs with Pineapple Rice w/cold-sliced veggies
Wednesday, February 12: Artichoke, Sundried Tomato and Goat Cheese Pasta w/mixed greens
Thursday, February 13: Leftovers
Friday, February 14: Frittata w/greek salad
Saturday, February 15: Smokey Gouda Mac and Cheese w/steamed broccoli
Sunday, February 16: Seafood Stew w/bread and sliced cold veggies

Monday, February 17: Claypot Roast Duck w/stir-fry green beans and carrots
Tuesday, February 18: Lemon Shrimp with Rice w/roasted beets
Wednesday, February 19: Roast Pork Loin with Carrots and Mustard Gravy w/green salad
Thursday, February 20: Asian Dumpling Soup
Friday, February 21: Red Lentil Curry w/brown basmati rice and cold sliced veggies
Saturday, February 22: Polenta Pizza with Spinach, Mushrooms, Bacon & Tomatoes and green salad on side
Sunday, February 23: Pork Ragu w/spinach salad

Monday, February 24: Seared Duck Breast with Amarula w/roasted yams and green salad
Tuesday, February 25: Totchos Salad (Finally, a salad recipe that includes tater tots!)
Wednesday, February 26: Cold Marinated Sirloin Noodle Bowl
Thursday, February 27: Spinach Artichoke Orzo w/roasted beet salad (beets roasted night before)
Friday, February 28: Saffron Risotto with Butternut Squash

The only thing that being sick was good for was keeping me around the house – which meant lots of hand sewing, and a little bit of machine work when I felt well enough to sit up for a couple of hours. This resulted in making good headway on some projects as follows:These horses (template by Ann Wood) have several friends in various shades and textures. I’m in love with them – and they will comprise a collage for my niece’s 2nd birthday. She is learning about horse riding right now – and I hope these brings some cheery dreams of riding to her bedroom wall! Finished piece by next week.

I cut out all the fabric for this lovely Denyse Schmidt pattern in 2013 before realizing there was an errata on the petal template which meant that all my pieces were the wrong size. Frustrated, I set all the cut fabric aside and let it be until December when I pulled out the petals and re-cut them. Over the last month I’ve appliqued and pieced this queen-size quilt top which I am preparing to start quilting next week (time willing). I have only ever made one queen-size quilt for myself, so I’m excited to get this done in time to grace our bed top in the spring.

And this! I had this table runner half-pieced in 2013 and then it languished in the sewing basket until I had endless hours and not much more than bad TV to keep me company. I went for a really primitive quilting style which matches my less than perfect patchwork – this is my first ever hand-pieced project of any substance and I’m pretty pleased with the overall feel.

For February I am planning to finish two Cooper bags (one for me and one for my partner), a crochet sweater that I started last year and only needs sleeves, and the above quilt. I also would like to cut out a pattern for a cape that I’m dreaming about making – we’ll see, it’s not at all season-appropriate but I feel inspired to work on it now. Really back into sewing all of a sudden and loving it…..

As you might have noticed January has been a bit of a wash for me. I have now been sick for one full month – starting with a late December cold and then morphing into either a worse cold or the flu – I have missed out on countless fun activities and good times, not to mention the fact that my work targets have all gone entirely out the window due to excessive absence.

But most of all, what has really sucked about this is the timing. As someone who looks forward to the turning of the year for all the psychic relief and goal-setting it brings me – January 1st is a time of great intentionality as I think about all the possibilities for the year ahead. But this year? I was too busy blowing my nose to come up with anything resembling a sustained thought — and the 1st came and went without a single wiry resolution poking its head up.

You’d think I could let it go, just this one year – but sadly, no. I’m all pent up with my need to resolve — not to mention stir-crazy with being stuck inside during all these nice days we’ve had lately. So I’m going to use February as my New Year – which is appropriate not only because I’m finally well enough to care about life, but also because my birthday happens in the first week of the month — so it’s a new year for me regardless!

I haven’t quite worked them all yet so I’m going to wait to post on this until tomorrow or Saturday – which is the actual start of the new year according to me.

A human being is a part of the whole called by us universe, a part limited in time and space. He experiences himself, his thoughts and feeling as something separated from the rest, a kind of optical delusion of his consciousness. This delusion is a kind of prison for us, restricting us to our personal desires and to affection for a few persons nearest to us. Our task must be to free ourselves from this prison by widening our circle of compassion to embrace all living creatures and the whole of nature in its beauty.” Albert Einstein

As someone who holds strongly to the belief that there is no great cosmic force or god working behind the scenes, I have found myself inquiring into the nature of the sacred and what it means to be spiritual. I have never believed that faith in God or karma is required in order that a person be moral, nor am I stirred by the beauty and majesty of nature to discover a creator in explanation of this world. Without any religious path I find myself often moved by the unexpected sight of a wild animal, the stirring of the wind around the tops of trees, the words of a great sage or the unselfish actions of people around me. Which I suppose are all what comprise a moving of the spirit, that inner force, which constitutes my secular spirituality.

In class our instructor attempted to engage each of us to answer the question of whether we believed in the sacred, which most people did not answer, and to which I said that I did not know. I realized later that my indignation at what is commercially sold as spirituality in the new-age movement, indicated that I must believe in a real sacred, if I am to rail against what I perceive as the false prophets becoming wealthy off the fears of social and environmental crisis. And if I investigate that further, I would have to be honest and admit that I do harbour an idealism about the human condition which is rooted in our capacity for goodness, compassion and wisdom. It’s this belief that makes me a socialist as well as an optimist, despite all signs to the contrary.

It is possible to hold that there are sacred things – teachings that should not be sold, landscapes which should not be destroyed, sanctuaries and the idols of faith which should be left untouched – and still not believe in God. It is also likely that we can agree to a definition of holiness which is rooted in the wholeness of our human potential and the earth we inhabit without calling on an outside force in witness of our deeds. All of human society is simply agreement on what the rules of engagement are, and if we come to terms with the fact that we’re all in this together, all suffering, all connected, all living the best way we know how – then spiritual approaches from all corners, including the secular, are permissible and should be understood as having the same aim. For we are all seeking a life of unity, an Eden which we are certain we have arisen from and will return to, whether that urge is drowned out and obscured by the noise of the world we are in.

As much as I believe in this potential, for each of us to accept ourselves exactly as we are and still work towards unity and equanimity, I don’t believe this happens by accident. It is a rare person who is “naturally” tranquil and balanced in all ways of living, and more often the case that those people have worked at becoming over the whole course of their lives. Which isn’t to say there is a single route we all must take. As the famous opening stanza of the Tao Te-Ching intones: “The tao that can be told, is not the eternal Tao. The name that can be named is not the eternal Name.” Which can be interpreted to mean – the way (the path) cannot be defined nor taught. It’s up to each of us to figure out how we get from here to there.

Though our path is solitary, we are fortunately not alone on it, and because we live in a world where teachings are prolific and available we are not without teachers either. Universities, temples, churches, study groups, community organizations, are all vehicles that exist to assist in the development of our potential for compassion and wisdom. Practices such as meditation are no longer the domain of a few monks on far off hill tops, nor is access to reading confined to a single ruling class group. In Canada, even those with limited means may avail themselves of community centre programs, discussion circles university lectures and cultural events, often for little cost. And the ability to practice our compassion and tolerance is available to us in all circumstances (more often than we would like).

But first, I think, we must get over our embarrassment at not being able to answer the question, “do you believe in the sacred?” and instead find the space in which to open this line of inquiry in a non-dogmatic, non-programmatic way. I have been lucky in these last few months to have a taste of what that might look like, through both my university course and in my workplace meditation classes. Both places providing support and instruction as I began to learn a slightly modified way of living. More time for inquiry, more time for quiet and learning to filter out the distractions so I can spend more time in connection with my family or just gazing at trees moving with the wind.

These things which move the spirit, they are sacred.

(There has been a rather long break between the last part and this owing to sickness to great that I couldn’t care about much and watched too much bad tv).

It happens that the stage sets collapse. Rising, streetcar, four hours in the office or the factory, meal, streetcar, four hours of work, meal, sleep, and Monday Tuesday Wednesday Thursday Friday and Saturday according to the same rhythm – this path is easily followed most of the time. But one day the “why” arises and everything begins in that weariness tinged with amazement. – Albert Camus

 I prefer the term awakening to enlightenment because waking up seems so much more attainable than acquiring great knowledge. Awakening can refer to a lofty spiritual state, or it can be used as in the Camus quote above, to imply awakening to the falsity of the world in which we live, a notion that may or may not have spiritual implications. And finally, it seems less divisive. Just as every sleeper has the capacity to wake, so does every person, and the person who is awake is no better than the one who is still sleeping. These are states each one of us can relate to while the concept of enlightenment may seem alien or distant from our day-to-day experience.

But how can we know what awakening is in the spiritual sense? In The Myth of Sisyphus Camus argues, “Properly speaking, nothing has been experienced but what has been lived and made conscious. Here, it is barely possible to speak of the experience of others’ deaths. It is a substitute, an illusion, and it never quite convinces us.” Which speaks to my own skepticism – as one who is asleep – about the existence of people who are awakened. Because we cannot experience what we haven’t lived, it’s difficult to believe this state exists, even though I have encountered people in the world who clearly have some particular clarity the rest of us don’t possess.

When I am in a deep state of meditation or bringing mindfulness to bear on some routine activity, I have on occasion felt an intense and almost-indescribable pleasure. For example, in walking meditation, if I bring my attention to the soles of my feet, I experience a feeling as though my feet are being massaged by the ground. Since discovering this particular sensation, I have experimented with it in daily life and discovered that I can bring this attention and stimulate the “foot massage” effect in any situation where I am able to be mindful. Likewise in a reclining meditation, when I bring my attention to the points of contact which are touching the ground or bed, I experience an almost-overwhelming feeling of being held which is accompanied by a similar good feeling of warmth and homecoming.

From this limited vantage point I believe to be awakened is to live in this state of calm and well-being most of the time and to meet all suffering and struggle from that place. This is my experience point from which to inquire, and thus my own projection of what awakening must feel like, but on a much grander scale. I also recognize that such a state must be indescribable, as I find my own ability to talk about something as basic as meditation effects severely challenged. These sensations are not translatable to language in a typical sense because they are so deeply felt, and I suspect very individual to our own inclinations and openness.