Listen To the Rain

It falls gently outside my window, watering everything. 

The forecast is for nine days of rain. We need it. The river is low. The islands in the center have beaches. The canal is barely a puddle in places, and the rest is covered in algae bloom. I can barely see the rain as it falls, but every now and then it catches a reflection of light off the clouds and shows itself. Its soft cadence blends with birdsong in soft harmonies.

Tiny whispers of breeze move green leaves on trees.

I sip chicken broth, and water infused with a slice of lemon and basil leaves.

Everything is quiet and my breathing slows. The air is spared from the breath of lawn tools. 

It's the sound of cleansing. 

The thought teases a deep breath from me. And another. And a third. The week has been frenetic and here are a few moments to pause and catch my breath before diving in again. A cue to remember myself before I remember everything else. I feel energy pulsing in my body and notice that something has changed. I move through the Green Wilderness with rain on my skin and in my thoughts, refreshed. 

The Green Wilderness is a daily writing practice that opens a landscape of discovery into my own human experience. 

Katherine Cartwright has been blogging since 2012, and each year brings new wonders. She askes big questions of the small things in life.

The Body Speaks

This is the third rough morning in a row in a week when everything should feel good.

They say things come in threes. I hope this is the end of it. But I can't help wondering if my body is trying to tell me something. The body speaks. The body never lies. Sometimes the message is clear. Sometimes it is mysterious. Maybe it's always clear and I am simply not listening. Or I might have my head filled with things that become a veil against my body's messaging. 

I don't know.

Or maybe I do.

And am simply not seeing clearly. 

The Green Wilderness is a daily writing practice that opens a landscape of discovery into my own human experience.

Katherine Cartwright has been blogging since 2012, and each year brings new wonders. She asks big questions of the small things in life.

When Everything Feels Off

There are some days when everything feels off. 

Digestion, sleep, energy. What do I do? Double down on my plan. Follow it impeccably. Sometimes it's possible to get a little unconscious and, maybe, skimp on vegetables or fats or protein. Or water. Or mindful breathing. Things get out of balance. My body is more sensitive than usual these days and lack of balance seems to show up pretty quickly.

Today is one of those days. I woke at 2 and could not get back to sleep for hours. I got up at 4 and did a little writing in my morning journal. Went back to bed for three more hours. Was achy all over. Got up and moved around. Not so achy any more. Did a few things around the house to redirect my thoughts. Sat down to write. I've had a glass of water and am now sipping some more. I'll make a green smoothie, filled with greens, vegetables, avocado, and water.  Maybe have a fat bomb for some energy. Maybe not. My energy seems to be building.

Sometimes we expect everything to happen immediately and all at once. Not sure where we got this expectation. Advertising? Marketing? Very little in life actually happens that way. The slow build to something enduring is what feels more true to me. It's like chicken broth. You bring together all the ingredients and let them simmer for awhile, a long while. When it's done, you skim off the fat, clear away what's left that's no longer needed, and you have liquid gold.

While I was up between sleeps last night, I pulled some chicken broth out of my freezer. I made it a few weeks ago and forgot about it. I'll sip it to help restore balance. It's the perfect medicine for when things feel off. Comforting, nutritious, delicious. Several years ago, I made it often and drank it every morning throughout the winter. My daughter called it my "meat tea." I'm thinking that now that I've given up caffeine and black tea for awhile, I may bring back that morning practice and see what it might contribute to my well being in this season of life. 

Traversing the Green Wilderness with this kind of journey food might be just what I need right now.  

The Green Wilderness is a daily writing practice that opens a landscape of discovery into my own human experience.

Katherine Cartwright has been blogging since 2012, and each year brings new wonders. She asks big questions of the small things in life.

Air and Water

The first change we were asked to make was to our relationship with air and water. 

Most of us are short on both. We live in a state of constant agitation and so we usually breathe with the top of our lungs instead of taking air deep into our lungs. Most of us don't drink enough water. It could be because we are too busy. It could be because we don't want to stop what we're doing and go to the bathroom as often as we should. I think of my teacher friends, who sometimes can't get even a single bathroom break in the day.  

My own experience with this is that I was so out of practice with drinking enough water that I would guzzle my 8-ounce glasses of water in a single long swallow. In the beginning. That's not the way to do it either. I also had the habit of drinking several cups of black tea throughout the day. That made it hard for me to get enough water and, since caffeine has diuretic properties, black tea may not be ideal for hydration. I've learned to (mostly) sip water throughout the day and stop early enough that my sleep is not interrupted throughout the night.. 

I did not realize how unconscious I'd gotten around my relationship with air and water. It's funny because I teach mindful breathing. But in the day-to-day rush of life, I can forget myself. It's in the day-to-day rush that we need to remember ourselves. 

The invitation was to pause several times throughout the day and to do 5x5x5 breathing five times. That's the kind of breath in which you inhale to the count of five, hold the breath for the count of five, and then exhale to the count of five. I refined this a bit to the breathing I like to practice. Inhale to the count of five. Pause at the top of the breath (not counting) and exhale to the count of seven. Pause at the bottom of the breath. I like to let go of counting with the pause because, for me, too much stress on counting feels stressful. And I prefer a longer exhalation to release more air from the lungs. Exhaling stimulates the parasympathetic nervous system and signals the body to relax.  

I thought about using my phone to remind me to stop and breathe and to drink more water, but decided instead to get into the habit of listening to my body and noticing her cues. I also assist myself with hydration by using the three carafes I bought last summer when I had a similar goal (more hydration) and fill the three of them in the morning with filtered water. I leave the empties on the counter. It's a visual cue, and gently supportive. I infuse the water with a slice of lemon and a few leaves of basil. These days it's habit, so I usually simply refill one carafe, but I go back to filling all three if I notice I'm drinking less.

What have I noticed?

I feel calmer. My head is clearer. My breathing has changed so that it is slower and more relaxed. When I feel challenged I fall into a deep inhale and a deeper exhale, which gives me a pause to reset. I feel more energy and am more clear-headed. I might say that I am feeling more nourished by air.

The most noticeable sign that I am well hydrated is I am not hungry most of the time. Dehydration and feeling hungry are connected. I've also noticed that my skin is softer and less dry. For about five years, my arms and hands have looked dry all the time. Some of that is related to hormone levels and I thought it was an inevitable part of aging. It may be, somewhat, but being well hydrated has an affect too. I might say that I am feeling more nourished by water.

I'd never understood I am nourished by air and water. And that it's the foundation upon which all other nourishment builds. 

The Green Wilderness is a daily writing practice that opens a landscape of discovery into my own human experience.

Katherine Cartwright has been blogging since 2012, and each year brings new wonders. She asks big questions of the small things in life.

  

Inconvenient Truth

Let's talk about convenience.

We reach for prepared foods and fast food because they're convenient. They don't take a lot of time and effort to go from purchase to table. And we're busy, so it makes sense to save ourselves some time and effort. I'm just not sure that it's always a good idea when it comes to food and nutrition. We need to measure our choices. 

Prepared foods and fast food are high in non-nutritive ingredients, like sugar, soy, fillers, chemicals, and artificial colors and flavors. Food companies want to keep profits high, so they do that by keeping quality low. Cheap ingredients, conventionally farmed meat and produce, non-food ingredients that have been created for the purpose of making processed foods attractive.  

As I've been moving through the Green Wilderness, I've stopped along the way to learn how what we put into and on our bodies affect our health, energy, and longevity. The truth is that some of what we eat isn't nourishing us much at all. I've been learning through information and through experience. Some of the information I know, and once ignored because it's not convenient, and other information I'm learning for the first time. It's the learning through experience that's been the most powerful.

I've completely eliminated most processed foods from my diet, and what I choose I'm picky about. I'm worth my own pickiness. I'm reading labels, choosing healthier packaging (like glass where possible), choosing quality over cost (there's cost to lower quality; it's just a different cost), and choosing foods that are not processed, where possible. I haven't started to make my own almond butter, for example, but I can see that there may come a time when I might. 

I am noticing that when I choose something processed, it's completely about convenience. 

Here are a few examples - I let someone else take the coconut meat out of the coconut, which I buy at Whole Foods in the produce department. I let someone else peel the garlic cloves when I make a recipe that requires a lot of garlic. I get this at a local produce market. I don't grow all my herbs and spices, so I source them from Penzey's and from local farm markets from organic farms in season. I buy Sir Kensington's Avocado Oil Mayo, rather than making my own. I buy shelled nuts. I buy a few other pantry staples like oils and vinegars and coconut milk. 

The rest of what I eat I try to buy fresh, local, and in season.

I was having a conversation today with someone who is looking for almond butter that contains only almonds and salt. She was having a hard time finding a brand that has salt. I like Artisana (one ingredient - almonds, packaged in glass). She did not want to add the extra step of adding her own salt, serving by serving. She'd hit her line and was already challenged by the inevitable stirring because of the separation of the oil. One more step was one step too many for her. I recommended Trader Joe's, which has a good, inexpensive almond butter that comes in both salted and unsalted varieties. There's no Trader Joe's near her home, so that did not work for her. I did an internet search and found that Walmart carries an almond butter made with two ingredients, almonds and salt. Never in a million years would I have expected that from Walmart, but I've also heard that they've been wading into the healthy foods arena. It works for her. 

I share this story because we have different tolerances for change in our habits. Everything is about our choices. What we choose shapes our life. We also need to be patient with ourselves when making changes. Moving in stages, step by step, is the gentlest way of creating lasting change. I'm half way through this 13-week process I started in May. I've made some changes I would not have thought possible. I am sticking to them, and I am a little surprised by that. I love that I am surprising myself.

The Green Wilderness is a daily writing practice that opens a landscape of discovery into my own human experience.

Katherine Cartwright has been blogging since 2012, and each year brings new wonders. She asks big questions of the small things in life.

Layers of Preparation

Being prepared is everything.

It's not enough to have done the shopping. Eating whole, fresh food in season means that you're spending a lot of time washing produce, chopping, and thinking creatively about how to put things together so the meals are interesting. Then there's the cooking.

I try to do some batch cooking to have things on hand when I'm busy or feeling overwhelmed. Today I got home from church, spent, and could do little beyond reaching for a couple of roasted chicken legs I had in the fridge and a handful of nuts. I'd gone to the produce market up the street to pick up a few things, and the bags sat on the kitchen floor for about an hour before I put things away. My fridge is feeling way too small these days. I probably should do a clean out and get rid of anything I don't need right now. I'm nodding my head as I read this on the screen. And kind of laughing at myself because I know I probably won't.

What I did do today, besides drive to two different grocery stores, was to make garlic confit. My son taught me this little trick a couple of weeks ago when we had lunch together at his place. It was so much simpler than going out and trying to eat to plan. I'll talk about restaurants another time, but understanding that it's simpler to cook at home than to go out to eat right now makes things so much easier. Charlie, who shares my love for cooking, picked up a steak and some shrimp, which he served with a colorful salad. He prepared the shrimp with a blended garlic confit he'd made, and made a simple sauce to zhuzh things up with the confit and some cherry tomatoes. It was fabulous.

What I love about this is the level of support I'm getting from so many of the people in my life. Sure, there's the occasional, "Oh come on, just a little bite of [this or that] won't hurt." (Yes, it will.) But I've been gratified by the level of support I've been receiving. The day I had lunch with Charlie, he told me he really thought about what I've been eating and how to make it feel sumptuous. This is something I've been doing as well, and to have a different set of eyes on it has given me other creative possibilities for my meal prep.

I tried his method today and it turned out wonderfully. I'm looking forward to drizzling it over fish or nut-crusted chicken, or using it as the base for simple sauces. It up-levels everything, and with limited options this kind of creativity is everything. I've been reminding myself that limited does not have to be limiting.

So here's the method ~

Fill a small baking dish with a single layer of peeled garlic cloves. Cover with extra virgin olive oil and place in a 200 degree oven for two hours. When it cools a bit, put the garlic and oil in a blender with the zest and juice of 1/2-a whole lemon and an herb or herbs of choice. I used fresh dill. Blend til nearly smooth. Put it in a glass jar in the fridge and shake or stir before using.

I have a day off tomorrow, so I'll take the time to do some batch cooking, organize the kitchen for the week, and get a few other things done around the house so the rest of the week runs smoothly and has fewer stressors. Chance may favor the prepared mind, but traversing the green wilderness needs its own kinds of preparation.

The Green Wilderness is a daily writing practice that opens a landscape of discovery into my own human experience. 

Katherine Cartwright has been blogging since 2012, and each year brings new wonders. She asks big questions of the small things in life.

  

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The Green WIlderness

I've been journaling the 13-week health and nutrition coaching program I've been doing for the last six weeks, and noticed as I looked down the other day that I was on day 38. "Wow," I thought to myself, "This really is a wilderness journey."

I'd been feeling it, the low-energy slog through the landscape of my changing body as I make change after change to help condition my body for weight release and vibrant good health. These are my goals. Vibrant good health and weight release.

The hardest part so far is doing the deep work of listening to my inner dialogue around food choices, the things I tell myself about what I had been choosing to eat. The first two weeks of this process there were few changes beyond listening to what lies beneath the extra weight, the things I've been masking and cushioning myself against. 

The body never lies. 

Supported by attention to the breath and deep breathing five times a day and hydration to the tune of at least six to eight, eight-ounce glasses of water every day, I spent time being still and listening, allowing years of what has remained beneath the surface and mostly unconscious to begin to emerge. Choosing not to numb it with sugar or cheese or bread or wine or even black tea. Choosing to listen. To be present. To love myself differently.

The first two weeks I could eat anything I wanted, but the cost was listening to what I said to myself. I was glad to be able to have that freedom at the beginning, especially since I'd planned a trip to visit my daughter and we'd planned to go and eat good food out, exploring the Chicago food scene with gusto. Instead, we enjoyed a more tempered approach. My daughter shared that she would love to have my home cooking, that she missed it, so we ate most of our meals in. And they were wonderful! Beautiful and delicious, as I like to say. Healthy, for the most part. 

We did eat out four times. I wanted to try Pequod's Pizza. I saw it on Somebody Feed Phil, and I was dying to have real Chicago deep-dish pizza in Chicago. And we did, but we did it differently. We ordered a personal pan pizza and shared it. We ordered a salad and shared that. And we ordered two Blue Moons and each had our own. It was just right. 

We also ate at Le Buchon, a beautiful French bistro. Each had our own appetizers, shared an entrée, had a cocktail, and a glass of wine with dinner. Decided to skip dessert and enjoy beautiful chocolate (from a fine chocolate shop) back at the apartment I'd rented for us during my stay.  

We ate at the café in the Museum of Contemporary Art, and got carry out at a Mediterranean place my daughter likes the night I flew in. The meal at the museum was especially yummy ~ a burrata appetizer, grilled ham and cheese on sourdough, dessert and beautiful tea. My daughter had affogato, espresso poured over ice cream. I had a cookie to go with my tea. My descriptions don't do it justice. It's not your mother's grilled cheese, that's for sure. The burrata was served with arugula and dressed with a balsamic glaze and kumquats. Even that does not do it justice. The wine was lovely.

I am not eating that way these days, but my wilderness is green. All the varieties of greens. At least fifty shades of green. Next to me on the table is my mother's Lilly Pulitzer lidded 24-oz. tumbler with a green smoothie to live for. I sip two of these a day. Over my counter sprawl finds from the Yardley Farmer's Market today ~ two heads of beautiful leaf lettuce, bags of baby kale and pea shoots, a tub of microgreens, a tiny head of broccoli, and a jar of salsa verde (no sugar, no artificial preservatives). There's also some pastured chicken and grass fed and finished beef. 

I didn't get here overnight. It's been a long and harrowing journey, forty days of it so far. There are forty more, and forty after that. I'm taking it in stages and noticing the miracles on the way.

The Green Wilderness is a daily writing practice that opens a landscape of discovery into my own human experience. 

Katherine Cartwright has been blogging since 2012, and each year brings new wonders. She asks big questions of the small things in life.