Posts Tagged ‘meditation’

November 25

I’ve had readers ask me why I haven’t written Day 365.  It didn’t begin as intentional – I didn’t mean to skip the last day.  I wasn’t ignoring it.  In a way, I wasn’t thinking about it at all.  But then I realized the obligation of writing a daily blog was a kind of practice in meditation – I have been focusing on writing like I focus on meditative breathing; and since I am a beginner at meditation – liable for straying from focus – I would make it a practice to return to the breath, so to speak, to get back on track.  It has been quite a commitment to open myself up to this discovery, or discoveries, that I have hoped would bring me to a higher level of consciousness and enlightenment.

When I realized the analogy of meditation, while it’s equally important to commit to meditation on a daily basis, I also realized that to a Buddhist, days melt together into an infinite stretch.  What is time, anyway?  It’s a measurement man had created for himself – really for farming purposes.  I’m not suggesting there’s no purpose or ceremony in an individual day, but, rather, each day is like a wave on an ocean.  We don’t always look out to the sea and see every single wave that rises, crests and falls.  But those waves are out there, they matter, they keep the rhythm of the ocean alive, they are constant and they follow a larger source and rhythm that we don’t even see.  Most of us don’t even feel it, which is sad.  But, I do.  Feel the source (not see every wave!).  And, thus, are my days – 344, 362, 365, whatever.  It doesn’t really matter.  My journey began long before the blog and my evolution continues to excelerate well past that missed day.

I was going to go back and write it, but when I was collecting the written entries to work this blog into a book project I’m hoping to get published, I realized I had accidentally skipped a day.  So, I’m actually two days short.

But, kind reader, don’t be dismayed that I have skipped or missed two days.  I am not dismayed, myself.  Those blanks, too, have served their purpose in my story.

If there must be some kind of closure to the 365 Days Until Love blog, however, let it be this…

Jane Goodall once wrote:
I have found that to love and to be loved is the most empowering and exhilirating of all human emotions.

And that applies to love in all of its manifestations.

John Denver wrote a song (perfomed with opera’s legendary tenor Placido Domingo) called Perhaps Love.  I write the lyrics below (without permission):

(Placido Domingo)
Perhaps love is like a resting place
A shelter from the storm
It exists to give you comfort
It is there to keep you warm
And in those times of trouble
When you are most alone
The memory of love will bring you home

Perhaps love is like a window
Perhaps an open door
It invites you to come closer
It wants to show you more
And even if you lose yourself
And don’t know what to do
The memory of love will see you through

(John Denver)

(Placido Domingo)
Oh, Love to some is like a cloud
To some as strong as steel

(John Denver)
For some a way of living
For some a way to feel

(Placido Domingo)
And some say love is holding on
And some say letting go
And some say love is everything
And some say they don’t know

(John starts joined by Placido)
Perhaps love is like the ocean
Full of conflict, full of pain
Like a fire when it’s cold outside
Thunder when it rains
If I should live forever
And all my dreams come true
My memories of love will be of you

(Placido Domingo)
And some say love is holding on
And some say letting go

(John Denver)
And some say love is everything
Some say they don’t know

(John starts joined by Placido)
Perhaps love is like the ocean
Full of conflict, full of pain
Like a fire when it’s cold outside
Or thunder when it rains
If I should live forever
And all my dreams come true
My memories of love will be of you

When Denver wrote the song he was thinking about all the ways he experienced love.  He thought about what all people must think of love, and the song came to him effortlessly.  A turning point for him, as an artist and musician, happened when he listened to Domingo sing the song with him in a live concert.  Denver was deeply impressed by the way Domingo sang his lyrics, which, thus, changed the way Denver sang his own songs from there on.  He had said, “when Placido sang the word steel, you felt steel.  When he sang the word cloud, you felt a cloud.”

And that is how I consider my work, now, moving forward, as an artist and as a humble woman – daughter, sister, friend, lover – to say what I mean and mean what I say, to feel and express myself deeply and fully, and to have strength in my love and loving.  And this I mean for love in all of its beautiful manifestations.





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Monday, September 15

This evening, after work, I drove over to my friend Carolyn’s house in Dundee. I spent a little time hanging out with her adorable children. At around 7:00, we headed over to her neighbor Maggie’s house, a few blocks away.  When we arrived, we signed up for what brought this evening gathering together – a birth chart reading party. 

I was last to go, so while the other ladies took their turns meeting with the medium, I sipped on some wine, engaged in some great conversation with a small group of nice women, and I snacked on some veggies and chips and salsa.  While we were hanging out, someone noticed a great, big harvest moon.  It was huge and a brilliant amber color.  It was beautiful.  Eventually, it was my turn.

I pulled out my little notepad and pen and listened intently as my birth chart was interpreted.  Now, it’s not like I frequent an astrologer.  I don’t even look up my sign in the daily paper.  But I’m not a skeptic, either.  I believe that we are connected to everything – the moon, the stars, the trees…  I believe in the Cosmos, and I believe it’s all divinely created.  That said, I was open to the connectedness the universe offers to help us understand our personality traits, the patterns in our lives, and our soul-driven purpose.

That said, here are my notes on what the astrologer said: 

First, I am a pure Capricorn, not born on any cusp, and I entered this world on January, 9 at 3:35 p.m. in Havre de Grace, Maryland, in the middle of a snow blizzard. 

I was born in the House of Capricorn and my sun is in Mercury – I’m not all too sure if I’m getting the latter details correct, but all that means I am driven by Mercury and, therefore, my strength is in communication, speaking and writing.  As for the ideal career, I need to eventually work toward being a ‘free agent’, working independently where I have great freedom.  With my sun in Capricorn, I am energized in things that allow me to work independently, solitary, and I needed to take on the next challenge, always looking for the next mountain to climb.

My moon is in Leo, which is all about creativity and play.  It’s how I get emotionally nurtured.  I need to give myself plenty of play time, I must set time aside for it, but I also benefit from spontaneous play, as well.

My rising sun is in Gemini, which is ruled by Mercury – a planet that shows up again.  This emphasizes my innate ability to teach, to share my wisdom and “sageness”, as well as writing and speaking.  I engage socially as a speaker, I can talk about any topic.  I am not an expert in one discipline, but rather, I know a little about a lot of things, which means I can talk to anyone and have engaging conversation with anyone.  This also means I am very curious and have a deep curiosity to learn.  I need a great deal of intellectual stimulus.

She also mentioned something about Sagitarius, which is about taking risks.  She went back to partnership, and that I need to start taking leaps of faith in partnership.  She told me I needed to have optimism, that I had been cynical or have felt perhaps “I don’t need one” when it comes to a relationship.  She said I need to put an end to that cynicism and open up to possibilities.  I wasn’t sure about this one, because I really do like my solitude.  But, I listened and decided it couldn’t hurt to at least be open to something different than what I have been accustomed to.

She then looked very serious and changed the subject.  She said in a couple of years I would go through a phase of Pluto square, which represents a time of change.  She said I have been moving toward this great change for some time now, so it won’t be a big shocker when it happens.  It has been a gradual progression, with the momentum toward this change already underway.  She said that what I have been doing, career wise, will be affected in the next 2-3 years.  This Pluto square phase should peak in 3-4 years, opening up to a highly creative cycle and I’ll need to let go of the old ways of doing things.

When the reading was over, I joined the remaining party guests.  I shared some aspects of my reading.  We all looked out the window in awe.  The moon was blood red.  It was eerie.  I had never seen the moon turn red, not even during a lunar eclipse.  I was a little nervous walking back home with Carolyn in the quiet, dark streets with a spooky, huge red moon.  It reminded me of a mythical omen, like something from the Seventh Seal.  Later, I discovered it had everything to do with atmospheric particles and dust, and forest fires. 

To me, this also signfied change.  A no-brainer, as the moon is inherently connected to change.  But, irrespective of whether or not it’s a change of season, change in politics, change in social order, or change in the global climate – it felt like a real sign.  And I’ve been feeling this, really intuiting this for quite some time.  It’s a powerful tide of hopeful energy. 

I’m not just sensing this in the form of a charismatic political leader of the moment, as crushes and infatuations with political celebrities of the moment will soon fade.  The seemingly immortal become mortalized soon enough.  And the political climate will return to status quo, once the excitement of icon seeking (a.k.a. this election) is finally over.  This idea and hope for political change is a fleeting, fickle fancy, as much a passing trend as carrying miniaturized dogs in little designer handbag carriers or wearing ridiculously oversized furry Australian boots.  Everything hot now is green, organic, sustainable, or about change. Real change. Right?

When I got home, I meditated.  I closed my eyes, burned some Sweetgrass incense, and took in some deep, purposeful breaths.  I felt centered.  And I felt the roundness of coming full circle.  I hadn’t meditated in months, but since have learned there are all kinds of meditation, and I didn’t have to limit myself to the clear-minded, free-from-thought-stillness that Tibetan Buddhism meditation required.  Instead, I focused on my breath and allowed my mind to wander…

I thought about the birth chart reading from this evening.  It has been clear to me that I needed to take risks in love, to trust more and allow myself to be optimistic.  Part of the challege was to get over the cynicism or craved solitude that’s been a part of my being for so long, perhaps over many lifetimes.  This is both refreshing and terrifying.  My solitude has been a source of my strength, a source that has energized me.  The notion that I need to start taking risks changes everything.  And the idea of a creative direction taking hold for me in the next couple of years is quite exciting.

Further, reflecting on the week, my diet has been better.  I haven’t been eating out as much (less change of gluten contamination).  Plus, I’ve started taking a really good probiotic for better digestive health.  Aside from some seasonal allergy symptoms, I have been feeling pretty good.   I haven’t morphed into a totally different person since I first began this blog a year ago.  But, I have come to know love better, and thus, I have become better acquainted with myself.  I couldn’t really predict what I would get out of this, exactly.  But I liked this idea of coming full circle.  It’s validating and it’s comforting.

As I took in my final meditative breaths, full of languid purpose, I allowed my newfound awareness of this plight toward change to lead my mindfulness.  I decided to let this grow in the center of my being, like a soft tendril unfolding, opening, sprouting, like my brightest chakra giving me strength, focus and light. 





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Thursday, September 4

Dark, overcast skies vanished and just like that summer was back!

It had been an unbearable short run of fall like weather.  I’m not ready for that just yet.  We had such a late start to summer this year, I want to hold on to every sunny moment while it lasts. 

But, the coming of fall is undeniable.  The most obvious warning sign, aside from the cooler, overcast days, was the shortened days.  It’s already getting dark out at 7:45 p.m.  Now that’s depressing!  I love my longer days of summer on the west coast.  There’s nothing like early July and sun still shining at 9:45 p.m., slowly melting and not yet dark at 10:00 p.m.  It’s delicious.

The other warning sign – football season.  And I love football season.  I just can’t believe we’re already there.  I left work early to learn more about my new lease situation at the property management office where I rent, then grabbed my Redskins ball cap and headed over to Upper Deck in the Pearl District.  I ordered a margarita and watched my hometeam lose to the Giants. 

I then met some friends at Park Kitchen for a cocktail and appetizer.  I had the Summer Sazarac and cold melon soup.  We then walked back to the Pearl District for the First Thursday art walk.  Kerry met us in the middle of what looked like a street faire.  Not quite as wild and random as the Alberta Arts.  But still mesmerizing. 

I ended up seeing a painting I really wanted to buy at Last Thursday for the Alberta Arts walk last week.  She wanted cash.  I didn’t have any.  So I didn’t buy the painting.  But, as fate would have it, this artist had a booth this evening, she still had the same painting.  And, I had cash.  She went down from $125 to $75.  It was a sign.  Everything happens for a reason, no?

I bought the painting. 

Kerry and I walked toward Olea.  I put the painting in my car and we grabbed a table outside.  It was a glorious evening.  We had views of pretty trees.  The scene reminded me of Paris.

I looked up at the beautiful leaves and thought – wow, soon they will all fall!  I wanted to capture a shot of the foilage, in its full greenery, while it still lasted.  I guess I was feeling sentimental.  I love trees, afterall.  I often paint them and write about them.

Again, a scene not too far off from Paris:

Well, my photos don’t quite give it justice.

At Olea, I just had a glass of water and a salad.  It was a Caesar salad minus the croutons.  Instead there was quinoa.  It was interesting.  I was mostly delighted by the pleasant evening, which was cooling considerable.  I was excited to get home to hang my new painting in my meditation room.

And that’s just what I did when I got home.  The colors matched perfectly – shades of nectarine and aquamarine make up my Tibetan-inspired mediation room.  The glare on the painting photo is unfortunate, but I was too tired to figure out my tiny digital camera.  It was an issue with the flash.

Yes, trees have been indeed on my mind.  The growth.  The beauty.  The cycle of life and death.  The roots.  The branches.  The leaves.  Am I an Aspen?  A Cypress?  An Olive tree?  A Cherry Blossom?  Or a Dogwood?  A Palm?  I’m not sure.  What tree am I?  A good question, I ponder while I sip on Yogi Bedtime tea and read a little more of my book.

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Monday, August 11

I got a good night’s sleep.  Still, I was kind of tired.  I got out of bed at around 9:00 a.m. and returned a phone call to the sales rep I would spend the morning with going to a few wine shop and restaurant accounts.  It was a gorgeous, sunny morning.

I cleaned up, got dressed and went to the lobby to meet the sales rep.  I ordered a latte in the lobby gift shop. 

We drove first to a cool market in the likes of Portland’s New Seasons and Seattle’s PCC Markets.  It was called Good Food Store.  I really enjoyed the visit there.  I ended up buying sweetgrass incense there, as my connection to it following my visit in the Wallowas – I felt a spiritual connection to Sweetgrass, felt it would be healing and soothing for me, especially for meditation. 

Next, we went to a restaurant where I learned the owner went to high school at Lake Braddock in Burke, Virginia, graduating with Kerry!  We had a nice meeting there.  All in all, it was a good morning of visiting good accounts.  We met the other sales rep for the distributor at Finn & Porter, the really nice restaurant in hotel where I’m staying, The Doubletree.  The restaurant edged the Clark Fork River.

We all had lunch.  I ordered the scallops over arugula.  It was pretty good and guarateed gluten-free.  After lunch, I spent the afternoon with the other sales rep.  We went to several good accounts, including the Missoula Country Club, with a gorgeous golf course!  Another highlight was The Red Bird restaurant.  After a busy day, we returned to the Doubletree and met with the wine buyer there, and were later joined by another wine buyer from a downtown restaurant.  All of the accounts today really loved the wines.  It was a lot of fun to chat about Oregon and our wines.

I had an hour or so to relax, check emails and chat with my mom.  I then refreshed my make-up and walked downtown to the Red Bird Restaurant.  I sat at the wine bar and ordered a glass of Cava and a light Thai inspired small rice noodle salad.  I waited for the sales rep to meet me at his account for dinner.  There was a great older gentleman playing the guitar and singing old cowboy songs.  I  was loving Missoula!

When the sales rep arrived, we ordered a bottle of sparkling water, beef satay and the lettuce wraps, guaranteed gluten free.  We then ordered a bottle of Problem Child Rhone blend.  I ordered the grilled lamb kebabs with a lavender mustard.  For dessert, I had the creme brulee and a cup of decaf cappucino.

After we ate, a funny character of a man, who was drunk, over-poured his Belgian Ale, with thick head foaming all over, and he started coming over to tell us really bad jokes.  He looked like a cross between French actor Gerard Depardieu and Thomas Hayden Church.  This guy wore a crazy shirt and just kept coming over.  More bad jokes.  Mostly about nuns, actually.  He was happily digging the music, singing along, yelling out “yeah!” or “that’s it”, answering the singer as if he were being personally addressed.  It was classic wild west.

I happily walked back to the hotel.  I packed up my stuff and braced myself while I called for the 5:15 a.m. wake up call.

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Monday, July 14

It was going to be a long day.  I had a ton of catch up work to do.  And I was in a fog, coming off of my week at Fishtrap, a week of creative focus, a week of trying to shake my usual routine and creative repression.  And, here I was, back to the routine.  This was not intended to be a complaint.  I just really appreciated the opportunity to be in a place as beautiful and remote as the Wallowas.  The creativity well didn’t tap immediately for me.  It took a few days, beginning with my Bardo experience.  And that had made all of the difference.

But, here I was in a fog.  I was thinking about my career, about graduate school and the conundrum to get an MFA or not to get an MFA, that was really the question.  I also thought about my finances and lack of funds for grad school.  I thought about adding to the debt I already have, by way of grad school, and this was unsettling to me.  I stirred myself into a temporary anxiety. 


When I got home, I went straight to the gym.  I got in a 35 minute run.  I wondered, were these anxious symptoms of Fishtrap?  Were these the kinds of thoughts that inhabit once your creative mojo is on and the writing starts to flow, no, rush like the Wallowa River?


I was unsettled.  I couldn’t shake it. 


I went to Safeway to use a gift card my mother had sent me a couple of weeks ago.  When I got home, I made shrimp tacos with corn tortillas, shrimp sautéed in lime, white wine, butter, white pepper and garlic, then topped with raw white cabbage, sweet orange pepper, yellow-green heirloom tomato, fresh scallion, mixed shaved cheese, a dallop of low-fat organic sour cream, and green tomatillo salsa.  I ate two of these, on the small tortillas.  It’s amazing how food could make me feel better.  The flavors soothed, the fresh and healthy fare made me feel like I was doing something good for my body.  And it was a relief to be guaranteed gluten-free once again.


While the Fishtrap kitchen staff worked hard to provide me with a gluten-free menu, I knew I ate certain dishes that were not guaranteed gluten-free; perhaps wheat free, but not always gluten-free.  I was suffering from returned symptoms, including my rash and anxiety. 

Now home, back to the control of my own kitchen, I felt reconnected, even though I was sad to be away from the flow of writing.  I meditated before I went to bed.  This included a foot soak, a facial mask, and deep breaths.  All with my adoring cats nestling close to me.

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Monday, June 2

Deep breath.  Om.  Stretch.  Breathe.  I was a little congested this morning.  So I had to make an effort to take in deeper, clearer, meditative breaths.

After I got out of bed, I got online for work.  I checked my emails, responded to different requests, edited some copy for our brochure, then got ready to leave for an appointment and also to drop off wine downtown.  On my way out, I had to take a Claritan-D.  I was very congested and my eyes were itchy and watering up.  I kept sneezing.  Must be allergies.  Or…the non-allergic rhinitis condition I supposedly had.  I’m still not convinced it’s not just plain allergies.

First, I drove up to Killingsworth to meet with the Chef at Autentica.  It was an engaging meeting about an event we’re going to do at the winery.  After, I dropped off wine with the Oregon Wine Board for media and event samples. 

I had a late lunch with a colleague at Andina.  I love Andina because they have amazing, unique cuisine and they have a gluten-free menu.  I had a glass of the sweet lime juice, instead of bread they gave me fried yuca with spicy verde sauce, and then I had the small plate of mixed greens with fresh vegetables (which included hearts of palm and asparagus with a zingy lime dressing), and then the rich avocado stuffed with crab and shrimp. 

After lunch I checked my work emails and worked on our wine club logo.  And then I found out my cousin gave birth to a baby girl, Natalie Hope, weighing in at 8 pounds even.  This was my cousin’s first daugther after two sons.  I was so excited!  I called her in the afternoon, thinking I’d get her voice mail, but was delighted she picked up.  It was so good to hear her voice.  I felt so happy for this wonderful blessing.

I then headed over to Yoga Pearl.  I was going to do it.  I was going to drop in on a yoga class!  This would be my first class since this fall (I think!).  I was going to the Vinyassa class, which was really hard!  It’s a 90 minute class, and when it started I was feeling pretty good.  I got there early and unrolled my mat and stretched out and started working on my breathing.  The initial positions were slow movements, the usual positions.  But half way through the class I was sweating as if it were the Power Vinyassa class with the room temperature heated at 95 degrees.  But, no, I was just getting a hard workout.  I kept pushing myself, even though my weak ankles sometimes wobbled (I had chronic ankle sprains from previous sports injuries).  At one point I wondered if I would make it all the way through the class.  I didn’t realize how out of shape I was.  But I persevered.  And I made it through the challenging class.  I was so proud of myself! 

When it was over, I was soaked with sweat, exhausted and my throat was pretty sore.  I felt like I had unleashed so many toxins in this deep, intense and balancing exercise that perhaps I got a cold?  I drank a little water on my way home.

It had occurred to me that I wasn’t working myself hard enough in my gym workouts.  It took me to be pushed hard as I was this evening to see just how much I had been coasting along with light bicycle workouts, walking or jogging on the treadmill, even if I was going for 40 minutes.  After this great workout, I decided I would work out harder, all around.  I had lost some muscle tone and wanted to get my strength and endurance back.

On my way home, I stopped by Crate & Barrel to pick up hurricane lamps that were on sale for work.  When I left it started to rain.  And by the time I drove the four miles home, my throat was killing me.  I went upstairs and grabbed a Ricola throat losenge.  And then I took a very relaxing, aromatherapy shower.  For a moment, I felt better.  I was clear.  But it didn’t last for long. 

About thirty minutes later, after I made myself vegetable soup for dinner, my throat was killing me again.  I made a cup of Matcha green tea, which is loaded with antioxidants, with a teaspoon of orange honey.   I had been downing large glasses of water to cleanse out all of the toxins I had loosened up from yoga.  And I took a dose of Wellness herbal resistance drops as an additional safeguard. 

It’s weird.  I felt tremendous from my yoga workout and yet got home only to feel sick.  The sore throat could easily have been a symptom of my allergy-like symptoms – from the post nasal drip and hard, dry breathing (without water intake) during the yoga class.  Or, I was fighting a cold. 

Irrespective, I had another throat losenge, continued to drink more water, and heated up my aromatherapy neck wrap to soothe and relax.  I kept blowing my nose, which was in one part really congested, to the point I could feel clogging in my ears, and then getting runny.  I felt crappy.

I worked on the haiku I wrote for my sister, putting it in a customized, pretty design that I planned to frame and mail out to her.  This kept me relaxed while I tried to breathe and feel better.

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Tuesday, May 20

I woke up to a cool, rainy morning.  My windows were open and the room was refreshing.  I did not sleep very well last night – part of the blame was that I couldn’t get comfortable, the other part my “allergies”.  So, I allowed myself ample time to wake up.  My sinuses were still killing me, my eyes were swollen, red and itchy. 

I kept progressing with some major projects in the queue for work.  I have been really pleased with the design work I’ve been coming up with, and thus have enjoyed the process.  The day flew by with very focused work.

I am pleased with my diet, as well.  I had a gluten-free cereal blend for breakfast, including Perky’s Nutty Flax and Enjoy Life’s Cinnamon Crunch Granola topped with fresh, organic strawberries and Silk Light Vanilla soy milk.    I had a cup of Yogi Detox tea mid-morning, as I read in a naturopath’s newsletter the need for spring cleansing and detoxification.  For lunch I enjoyed a can of Pacific Food’s Organic Savory Chicken & Wild Rice Soup and a bottle Vitamin Water.  For a snack, I had an organic local apple spread with Kettle brand crunchy peanut butter.  Finally, for dinner I had the second half of my Amy’s rice crust pizza with fresh organic buffalo mozzerella, yellow tomato and basil.  I also had a small organic Romaine salad with red cabbage, grape tomatos, sweet yellow pepper, pumpkin seeds.  I drank about 7 glasses of water and finished my evening with a cup of Yogi’s Bedtime tea.

Focus is my mantra.  I am making a concerted effort to improve my diet, to follow it carefully and to forego dining out, if needed to insure gluten-free relief.

My belly remains slightly swollen.  I have the dermatitis herpetiformis, the associated rash with Celiac disease.  It’s on my belly, on my shoulders, on my forearms and hands, and on the inside of my knees.  Luckily, it’s not too bad.  I’m not depressed, and I haven’t really had anxiety, other than that which comes with financial stress.  The incline of the price of gas doesn’t help – there was one station in the region that climbed up to $3.99 a gallon.  This is very troubling to me.  I’m going to start seeking coupons online and I’d really like to garden this summer to save some money, as well.

After work I went to the gym and got on the exercise bike for 40 minutes.  I hadn’t had a cardio workout in a few days, so this was really nice.  It felt good to get the bloodflow going.

I tried to organize my writing – I am trying to send off some prose and poetry for publication.  My hope is to make some extra cash and build my resume of published work.  I feel really good about the quality of my latest work.

In the spirit of doing nice things for myself, I decided to take a shower this evening.  Okay, that might sound weird.  But I never take showers at night.  And that’s not good.  It’s vital to rinse of the dirt and oils from the day.  I remember Rinpoche this spring mentioned this was very important when practicing Tibetan Buddhism.  It’s a meditative, respectful way to end your day, to cleanse your body and spirit.  I was having significant congesion, runny nose, sinus pressure and itchy, swollen eyes.  The evening shower really helped to clear me.

After drying off, I applied a comforting Derma-E moisturizing, antiseptic cream with tea tree oil and vitamin E to my body, especially where my rash has been.  It was very soothing.  I applied an herbal, organic facial mask and sat on the sofa with a heated lavendar-rosemary-sage shoulder wrap, an aromatherapy, heat-massaging pillow.   This was good.  This was very, very good.  I breathed in slowly, meditatively, mindfully.

I watched the evening news to see the results for today’s elections.  For the primaries, Obama took Oregon, Clinton took Kentucky.  Obama is a couple hundred electorial pledged delegates’ votes ahead, marking a milestone.  I am disappointed for Hillary, and for American women, but it ain’t over just yet.  Either way, this is by far the most exciting political election I have ever experienced!  History is in the making and change is certainly on the cusp.

Another interesting election was for Mayor of Portland – popular and young candidate, Sam Adams, easily took that win.  It was a grassroots campaign.  He’s smart, innovative, progressive and committed to making Portland an even better city.  Needless to say, it’s been an engaging political night in Oregon. 

By the time I finished this blog, I was breathing clear, calm and relaxed, truly ready for restorative sleep.  And thus I must feel gratitude.

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