Detox-ober

From the vineyards of Cassis in Provence, France, to wineries of Santa Barbara, California, I tasted more fabulous rosé this summer than a Master Sommelier. Bottle after bottle, with an ocean or mountain or city view, shared with friends and family well into the night. I never regret those glasses raised in laughter and love.

But traveling meant there were plenty of meals on the go. Days when chips and m&m’s were lunch or maybe a second lunch. Eating in airports or roadsides where the selection wasn’t a healthy one. There were plenty of fabulous restaurant dinners too. Extraordinary plates of homemade pasta and fresh breads, local fish or eggs, burgers on the grill, corn with butter and peaches over ice cream. Oh, and pies, custards, and tarts. (I was in France, after all). Food highlighted my days, without regard to calories or consequence; I often dined quite splendidly, as evidenced by my scale.

Detox-ober came in the nick of time. Clothes ill-fitting, energy level flatlining, and little desire to run up any of the hills my crazy life demands me to surmount; acting like it was a breeze to keep hiking when in actuality walking through the motions winded me. I owed myself a breather, so, as I do every fall when I find myself in this exact same transitional place from summer fun back to work, I closed the liquor cabinet, stopped eating out, and focused on revitalizing the core of me.

Autumn colors in a maple tree

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mountain pass

The morning started with a solid barricade of mountains rising up in my mind, leaving me, “cabined, cribbed, confined . . . ” I fought to maintain space, maybe even peace, but alas, something triggers something. “Then comes my fit again: I had else been perfect” (Shakespeare). I drag myself from one room to another, desperate for an escape, but not seeing possibility. Whether cause stemmed from the bigotry of Washington GOP to unify a white-only America, the endless stream of gray clouds covering my state, or the disconcerting stream of #metoo people crying out their abusers, regardless, my mood hit rock bottom. I drown in despair despite the fact I avoided his new lies and the “fake news” disclaimer we have come to know as a presidential retort; and even though I applaud the bravery of the women who are calling out their truth, as a survivor, I am grabbed backwards into my own stolen childhood, circling around in panic attacks and emotional shattering each time I hear their abuse stories. Victimhood is a badge no one asks for, yet one finds near impossible to shed. So yes, even with the no-listening-to-the-news weekend rule, following this dystopian-metaphor converging on a convoluted new world, the walls close in around me. I think too much about the future. Breath in, breath out. I must move. With cleats strapped onto my hiking boots I get myself outside and onto the nearest mountain trail.


snowy road in Stowe Vermont

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Honor Her

As we approach this Sunday in May when families sing the praise of the woman who brought them into this world, or the woman who adopted them, those mothers and step-mothers or aunts and grandmothers, let us also remember the mentors and caregivers, for there are many ways to mother after all; let us collectively nod our heads to those who nursed through feverous nights or cheered during wet soccer games and heralded us along with a nudge and even a song. Mother’s Day celebrates the cycle of love spiraling down the generations, from those who mother to all the rest. Honor her, in her multitude of forms, indeed.

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amidst the politics

While art is occupying Facebook posts, #pussyhats make way for #ShePersisted, #thebusinessman is still spouting #alternativefacts, as his wacko, unqualified, and even dangerous cabinet candidates, one by one, get confirmed. Amidst the politics we must do what we can do and tend to love and compassion and truth. History shows us that if we do, the best of us will prevail.  Along with holding these lofty ideals, we must also ski. Breathe in the cold. Re-new and re-fresh our soul.

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Shifting into Routine

hay

School buses tie up the morning commute, meetings fill our afternoons, beach towels are folded into the back of the closet, as we all return to the hustle and bustle of routine. With the warm September temps here in New England, Autumn looms faintly, yet we must begin those chores that need to be completed before the first frost. And naturally, we begin to prepare our internal life too. Time to update your local yoga schedule. And go to a class. Install the Headspace app on your smart phone. And use it today. Plan your evening meal with convenience and health in mind. And eat well, quickly. Yes, it is September after all.

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Fast Foodies

I am one of the lucky ones. I live with someone who treats me to fabulously yummy meals: breakfast, lunch and dinner. We eat mostly vegetarian, but sometimes fish or the occasional poultry or red meat are added, and sometimes strictly vegan; regardless, we eat with health in mind. We keep it local, mostly, and organic, mostly, and gluten free, mostly, but always delicious. Now don’t get me wrong, we often have little time to whip up mid-week gourmet dinners. We work full-time, arrive home dog-tired after long-days, and are hungry. So, we try to keep what might be the answer to what’s for dinner? on hand and simple to put together.

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