Dharma

I recently returned from a spiritual journey to the Gulf Islands in British Columbia and I feel moved to share my experiences. I felt so alive there. We (Lily and I) were staying at an ashram deep in the valley of many pine-covered mountains. With three locally (on the property) grown, vegetarian meals a day, an open schedule of yoga classes, and philosophy talks during the night, it was hard not to spend some time looking inward. I was regularly moved to tears by the discussions about following our dharma (our truth path). With all the clarity I felt in this scenic escape I felt reconnected with my passion to heal. 

The leader of our discussion spoke about how we often see a glimpse of something we feel connected to (e.g. animals) and we search for the socially "acceptable" way of working within that dream. In the case of animals, one would see being a veterinarian as "safe" path that includes social acceptance, success, and financial security. But is that really the calling? Maybe you were supposed to live on animal sanctuary in jungle and reintroduce cougars who had been caged back into the wild! Or maybe you need to find a way to have enough land to have a farm. One needs to look deep within themselves to find what they really want. 

I connected deeply with the subject because I truly feel that my purpose to heal people of their insecurities and emotional scars and help them to live empowered, emotionally healthy lives, but I struggle with how to get there. Is being a licensed psychotherapist the best path to achieve that? And if I am to inspire others to step outside of what is safe and expected of them, shouldn't I be breaking the mold myself? The challenge presents itself: If we do not all fit into the perfect molds (lawyer, banker, doctor) that society has made for us how do we create a profession filled with passion that satisfies us and is financially lucrative? 

I guess I will be spending the year figuring that out. 

Coming Home

I have recently decided to start this baby back up again with a new level of commitment. My life has taken many turns in the last couple of months. I was accepted to Social Work Master's programs and was fully ready to pack my bags and head down south and begin my graduate education. But then life took a turn (as it often does). My partner of 5 1/2 years (the last two of which have been long distance) got a job at Google in San Francisco. The funny thing about this is that he had been in Southern California for last to years getting his business degree while I had been in the bay working as teacher. And now we were about to switch. So I had to make a choice. Spend another year doing the long distance legwork and heading off to school, or staying at my current job and deferring my acceptance. It was the hardest decision I had ever had to make. In the end, I chose love (provincial of me? maybe). Another year of being apart would have definitely broken us, but school is going nowhere. Fortunately, I work at a wonderful school that supports and encourages my creative endeavors, and welcomed me back with open arms. The decision stills weighs on me now and then, but I hope it was the right one (fingers crossed).

Speaking of Skunks…

So Sasha our saint bernard got sprayed by a skunk yesterday, and I reacted with predicted vengeance. It wasn’t a proud moment for any party involved. Well actually I’m pretty sure the skunk was proud of himself, but my big mouth quickly put an end to his gloating.  The incident unfolded as follows…

 It was a beautiful, sunny afternoon. Nathan (my man) had gone outside to cut up the pile of firewood we had hauled in the day before.  I, not being much of a lumberjack myself, decided it was a perfect opportunity for Sasha and I to take a little afternoon stroll. We were not 300 yards from the house when I noticed a strange looking rock not far from us that I couldn’t recall ever seeing before. I shrugged it off and kept going, only to have the light bulb turn on in my head about a second later. A second too late…Sasha had spotted the black and white striped rock and was on the move. I yelled out in vein “Sasha NOOOOOOOOO!” but to no avail.  I was surprised to see that the critter did not spray her immediately.  Instead it stood up on its hind legs and confronted its much larger foe as if to say, “just try me BITCH”.  I of course, was a safe distance away watching the events unfold and shrieking and pleading with my dog to step away from the strange looking kitty. It was quickly over after that. Sasha came slinking back, smelling putrid and looking defeated. I moved into action.

Making a wide sweep around the skunk, which still held its ground menacingly, I ran towards the house yelling for Nathan. Unfortunately, between the chain saw running and me still being a distance away, Nathan went on cutting his wood unperturbed. I flailed my arms, I sputtered, and I shouted. Nothing. Finally, I got my break when he looked up to grab another log, and in that moment I yelled something that a year and a half ago would have been unfathomable to me, “Nathan, GET YOUR GUN!”  That’s all it took. Within 10 seconds Nathan was in and out of the house and in his pickup, speeding past me, rifle in hand. Needless to say, the skunk situation was quickly taken care of.

That evening I couldn’t help but reflect on the day’s events. How bad Sasha still smelled; how it secretly turned me on to witness Nathan’s masculine instinct to protect and destroy; and how much I have changed since coming to live with this cowboy on his ranch two Septembers ago.  Some pacifist I’ve turned out to be. It’s funny how things take on a new light when you actually live them. We can’t have skunks “stinkin’ up the place”. At least that’s what Nathan keeps telling me.   

In conclusion, the skunk is dead (if that wasn’t obvious enough), and I am a professed killer of defenseless animals. But the real loser here is Sasha. She had to take a bath.

-Jennie Bah

 

Jennie Living

In response to Jennie's post about country living... A couple of city retorts and a couple of thoughts on her way of life. (Please reference our "Country Living" post).

 1.)  If and when people are slow, you best know how to make moves. It's the only way to maneuver the streets of Oakland. Speed away so fast they won't be able to read your license plate number and jot it down to plot further retaliation. 

 2.)  Luckily my beat up Ford Explorer has a compass built in. This, plus its keypad entry on the driver side, is why I stick by my 13 year old baby (AKA Topanga).

 3.)  I have no idea how and when the sun rises... But I do know that the sun sets in beautiful tones of orange and red. Whatever rushed moment I am having turns quiescent when I look up notice the skyline at sunset. I ignore people who attribute this miraculous moment of beauty to California being the most polluted state in the country. 

 4.)  Being a 98% vegan I, of course, have a hard time with notion of loving animals and consuming them. I do not believe I can be truly nourished through another sentient being's suffering. But Jennie embodies this life. She spends most of her day tending to her beloved cows. She rises with the sun to feed them, she treks through blizzards to protect them when they are cold, she delivers calves by hand in the birthing process, and she is personally responsible for each one of the cows' health. And then she sends them off to the slaughter house. And eats them alongside her potatoes. And I still love her. 

 If you're going to eat meat, her way is the only way to go. True sustainability. As for me, I am a little veggie lover...

 5.)  I wish I had a puppy. I miss mine...

 6.)  It's even more fun to say "redneck." Even though I don't mean it. Really. She's more like a country bumpkin.

 7.)  I'm even more prone to be held to animal rights activism standards. Yet, if given the choice, I would happily smash every single living mosquito with my bare hands. BEST DAY EVER. I hate those bastards.

 8.)  There is no way I can respond to this comment without gagging. Except that I applaud her adventurousness. And pray that the only nuts she ever tries to feed me do not come in a sack (ew).

 9.)  I would imagine most people, when faced with a 2400 pound horned animal barreling toward them, would run. If not, they only have themselves to blame.

 10.) Driving 30 minutes to Walnut Creek is "the burbs." Anywhere close to middle California is "the country." And not the kind you want to retire to.

11.) When spring arrives, expect it to be overcast in San Francisco. If the occasional sunny day does strike, expect any warm patch of grass to be worthy of a power struggle.

12.) I've always had a fantasy of riding in tractor... SO fun!

13.) When it's below 50 degrees I am usually in such a state of shock and unpreparedness that I am usually unable to muster up enough determination to leave the house. 

14.) Learn how to yelp baby because the restaurant possibilities are endless! Of course, I usually end up throwing together a Pollock dish of whatever I've got in the house because of my weird eating habits (more on that later). I have been known to spend an hour or more deciding where I want to eat and what ethnic flavor I'm in the mood for... Awww first world problems.

15.) At times I wish I was an animal. No life decisions, no existential questions, just survival. The instinctual life. I wonder what that's like? 

16.) Have a best friend like Jennie. Someone who embodies self-connection and following your dreams. And reminds you how fulfilling a slow, sustainable life can be. 
-Java

Country Living

Java and I have talked about starting this blog for a while now and damn her she actually went and did it. If it were up to me I would have forever wallowed in procrastination and continued to retreat into my country bumpkin isolation. Ideas really excite me, but I struggle with action. Then she gave me a deadline and told me that if I didn’t write on our blog I would lose her forever. I knew she meant business. Thank you Java for pulling me out of my hole, keeping me in the real world, and lifting me above it. You’re the best and this is for you.

Sixteen Things This California City Girl Has Learned About Country Living:

1.)  Regardless of how slow they may be driving, don’t even think about tailgating anyone within a 30-mile radius of your home. Chances are they know who you are and where you live.  It makes for awkward encounters down the road. 

2.)  Figure out where the hell your cardinal points lie or forever doom yourself to a lifetime of incredulous looks when you ask “which way is North?” Something I am still working on.

3.)  The sun rises and sets behind the wheels of a cattle truck. Who knew?

4.)  It is possible to feel compassion and respect towards an animal and also have strong urges to eat it.

5.)  Get yourself a good dog. It will be the best thing that has ever happened to you. This one goes for city folk too.

6.)  It is really fun to say the phrase “city folk”. Just rolls off the tongue. 

7.)  Despite preconceived notions of being an animal rights supporter, when a rabbit eats your carefully cultivated sweet peas or a skunk sprays your dog, bloodlust will take hold.

8.)  Calf nuts taste like McDonalds’ chicken nuggets. I’m not sure if this bodes well for calf nuts or poorly for McDonalds. 

9.)  When a bull chases you, you better run. FAST.

10.) Driving 30 minutes to the nearest town, population 1500, is known as “going to town”. Driving 2 hours to Bozeman, population 40,000, is known as “the big city”.

11.) When spring arrives, expect to get bucked off your horse at least three times. I await this coming April with stoic trepidation. Skittles, bring it.

12.) Learn to operate a tractor or forever be uncool.

13.) When it’s -20 below outside your nostrils stick together. It’s a weird sensation. 

14.) Learn to make your own indian, thai, mexican, chinese, ethiopian, italian and japanese food, cuz you ain’t gettin’ any otherwise. Add thin crust pizza to the list also. 

15.) Watch the animals. They know how to live.

16.) Have a best friend like Java. Someone who keeps you connected, spirited, and sane. 

- Jennie Bah

Feeling Dehydrated

     Today I felt like a victim of circumstance. I guess I can’t call myself a victim because in reality I do have a choice. I am living the best life I can live without having to do anything too scary or dramatic. I have the ability to make sweeping changes in my life and yet I don’t. Because I’m 75% happy.  But of course that is all on a relative scale. It’s only 4/5 of what I would consider my most content moments in life.  And things could be worse. The thing that worries me, is that inside of my gut, underneath where my burrito is sitting at this very moment, there is a little voice calling out for more. More fulfillment, more peace, more joy, more harmony. He knows that while of course I have quite a lovely little life compared to most, things could in fact be BETTER. And as much as I try to quell his inquisitive nature by pointing each and every thing of beauty in my day, his urging is relentless. He (let’s call him Bucha) wants more. 
     I have known what it feels like to drink in everyday like sipping on cool lemonade. Tart, juicy, sweet, and tangy. Nice and slow. Through a straw.  I yearn for those days… I try with a fierce intensity to make the best out of each day. To maintain a balance between “need to” and “want to.” Yet I know something is not working. Life is not as juicy as it once was, and believe me, I need the juice. I live for the JUICE. Juice, you say? What does one (me) mean by “juice?” I mean living like you meant it! I mean the slippery, tingly, excitement of feeling inspiration course through your bones. I am a little disheartened to find out that I am in fact not content to live a mediocre life.  I fear ignorance is bliss, and at times I wish I was a tad more on the dim side of refulgence. I know Jennie feels me on this one… Speaking of Boots- She is a lovely example of living a slow, passionate filled life. When I speak to her, her contentedness further inspires my pursuit of this kind of hands-on, joyful living. During our conversations I am stripped of my ability to rationalize the kind of faced past life I currently lead. So the question of the hour is: Do I need to leave it all behind and immerse myself in a country/community that understands and encourages the slow life?
     As I sat observantly on the BART today, I searched transiting strangers’ faces for hints of secret satisfaction. I was waiting for a smirk, a wild laugh- some marker of interminable inner joy.  I guess I was hoping for a reason to believe that a nine-to-fiver, living in the city can have the glow. Instead I mostly came across uncomfortable looking suited men, wiry-haired seniors in tracksuits, and high-school couples mackin’ in the back seat. Maybe this can be attributed to my 1pm commute on a Thursday (Suited men uncomfortable because they were playing hooky, same for the teens, and sport-attired seniors… well they might have been on a tour?) I did occasionally spot a biker or two smiling from ear to ear. But they were probably on an adrenaline high from just running a red light, or a cutting off a car…Smug bastards. I still have yet to find hope…

     Have you ever had someone walk by you who just had “it”? “It” has nothing to do with appearance or physical shape, but energy. No matter what their objective attractiveness (is there such a thing?) is, they are like a magnet.  There is fire and earth radiating from their stride. Their eyes are focused and clear as their body bounds joyfully towards their next enlivening experience. They emanate the good gooshy gooshy. You can just tell they have their shit together. Definitely a rarity… Like seeing a shooting star. Sometimes I follow them in hopes of discovering their secret.

I am in pursuit because that is how I felt when I was living in Costa Rica studying to become a yoga instructor. Each day unfolded with clarity and inspiration. I emanated yumminess. I remember writing in my journal that I was filled with “so much love and gratitude” that I likened myself to balloon ready to either float off into the sky or burst.  I was every cliché in the book, and damn it felt niiiiiice. My life was slow and full of affirmation. Gimme more.

I need it back. And I need it to be my life. The question is: how do I get it?

The bigger problem is: once I figure it out, can I leave all of the beautiful, soulful parts of my life in Oakland behind to commit myself to it? 
-Java

Late Night Whim

My best friend Jennie and I have been talking about wanting to start a blog for years. We hit it off as two young college girls living in small apartments. While after college I stayed in the bay area to continue working with children, Jennie ran off to the wide-open plains of Montana never to return. We still talk to each other almost every day. For hours... about absolutely nothing of note. Except about starting a blog: to share our different views, our opposite diets, our disparate daily lives, and our mutual adoration of each other. So I finally did it. Lately I've been pondering all the things in my life I think about doing. If I actually sat down and calculated the time I waste thinking about doing something instead of actually doing it, I'm sure my night would end in tears. On that note, I've put my energy towards doing more and thinking less...Letting life's little surprises fill my world with wonder. And that resolution has been working in my favor, so far. SO HERE I AM... or should I say here we are? That is if she accepts my offer to begin on this journey together.


The Proposal: Jennifer Barr will you share this blog me? Will you be my partner in exploring and dispensing our thoughts, stories, recipes, goals, hopes, and dreams? Our inappropriate humor?


It's not going to be easy.
I await your response with baited breath.


Forever yours,
Java