Aiden's Song

Autumn Leaves
It's the end of the Summer...and Autumn hurries itself to winter too fast each year it seems.  This morning I am making plans for when my children and I will go hiking to see the fall colors in the mountains.  This reminds me of a time last year, when my oldest son, Aiden, was in preschool.  I looked at the lesson plan one morning to see what he would be learning about.  He was going to learn about the autumn leaves.  I thought, "I don't think we'll go to school today."  I knew he could get a much better lesson on the subject if we went for a hike instead.  It was a decision I never will regret.  I was proud of Aiden for hiking so far, and happy to have Liam on my back.  We were taking Aiden's own simple advice he had given me one day as we sat out on a blanket on our lawn.  "Mom, sometimes you just have to be a little bit bad."  he said.  I had been telling him it was hard to make time to do some of the simple things we want to do.  I didn't get it the first time he said it.  "What?" I asked, "What do you mean?"  He proceeded to tell me out of the mouth of babes in his own words that we need to ignore the mundane tasks, the to do lists, and responsibilities sometimes in favor of a now or never opportunity.  My boys, (including the one I'm married to,) are more important to me than anything else.

Mom’s Nutmeg Snack Shake  

My mother used to make this simple shake for me, using cow’s milk.  I’ve made the switch to Almond milk, and it’s still a nostalgic afternoon snack.  I love to share simple moments like these with my kids, and pass on small things my Mom used to do for me.

2 Cups Almond Milk

1 tsp Nutmeg

1 Tbs. Raw Honey

3 Frozen Bananas

In Honor of Motherhood 

My Mother used to write a letter to the administration each year I was in Elementary school, just so I could go to a school of our choice, outside our designated boundaries.  The bus was not going to pick me up clear across town, so my stalwart mother faithfully drove me.  Twenty-something minutes, each way, several days a week.  Thank You Mom.

I now have the luxury of sending my son off to kindergarten each day with the bus-stop right outside my house.  I can't believe it sometimes when I hear myself complain that he missed the bus, and now I have to drive him five minutes to school.  Oh! How inconvenient, right?  That's what makes motherhood such a challenge I think.  There are constant interruptions and demands placed upon mothers that are often inconvenient.  Putting ourselves aside is what molds us into adults.  So I find myself trying to do what I want and involve the kids, or do what they want, and try to enjoy myself.

I am so grateful to be a mother.  There is nothing I love more than to take care of my family.  Call me old-fashioned, but I truly have a desire to be a homemaker above all else.  Sitting down to a home-cooked meal together is so rewarding.  Maintaining some order and cleanliness while my kids learn responsibility is also a constant reward.  Teaching them, bathing them, soothing them.  Tucking them in at night takes patience when they won't stay in bed, but I try to soak it in since I'm often gone at bedtime at our house.  Those last few moments before they fall to sleep I get to hear about their day.  I get to sing to them.  We talk about dreams.  We tell stories.  It is an honor to play the role of a wife and mother, and in serving them, I feel so much love for them.  I'm thankful that Connor allows me to take on this traditional role.  I believe that to embrace womanhood is a necessity to true happiness for all mothers, and all women. 

Aiden's Song
When I first got married I knew I'd have children...eventually.  I wanted to put my own desires first, and accomplish a few things on my life's to-do list before I ventured down that path of self-sacrifice that seemed so daunting by the description of others.  I thought I'd have to give up being me.  I thought I'd have to give up the things I love to do.  I thought wrong.

When Aiden was born, it opened up a whole new perspective for me.  I enjoyed the most simple of things, and life slowed down.  We often took early morning walks before the sun came up over the hills.  Aiden as a baby, was pressed up against my chest in a carrier, swaddled in a blanket.  One day in particular, his big blue eyes looked up into mine.  I saw my own reflection in his eyes.  I saw the clouds above me also as a reflection, moving slowly across the sky.  I knew then, that I was meant to be a mother, and that in so doing, my life would be so much more fulfilling than I had ever imagined.  I would take him, and all my future children to places I wanted them to see.  I would share music with them, and enliven their all their senses.  I would give them permission to become themselves, by staying true to who I am. 



Clickon the link below to listen to the whole song for free on Souncloud:
"Aiden's Song"

Real Progress

Ginger Cookie Peach Cream Pie

Crust:
1 3/4 Cups Ginger Cookies, Finely Ground (I like to use the Brand Back to Nature.  Their triple ginger cookies are perfect for this recipe, and you can use exactly the whole box.)
6 Tbs. Butter, Softened
Blend together in a food processor or high quality blender.  Press into a pie dish to create an even crust.  Bake at 375F for 7 minutes.  Let cool.

Cream Filling:
3 Cups Plain Greek God's Yogurt
2 tsp. Vanilla Extract
2 Tbs. Raw Local Honey
Using a hand mixer, combine and whip together in a mixing bowl.  Pour into the pie shell.  Freeze for about an hour, right before you want to serve it.

Peach Topping:
3 Fresh Peaches, Peeled and Sliced
1 tsp Sucanat
1/2 tsp Cinnamon, Ground
Gently fold the cinnamon and sucanat into the peaches until they are fully covered.  Remove the pie from the freezer, and top with the peaches right before serving.  If you're like me, you'll eat half the pie in one sitting, while watching your favorite television series.

"Slow Progress is Lasting Progress"
This is a quote from my favorite T.V. series, "White Collar."  Why do I love this show so much?  I seem to have this thing for characters who are supposed to be bad guys, but they are really good guys.  I love the movie "Bandits," for example.  Also "Time Bandits," and pretty much anything with a "Robin Hood" theme.  I guess I love the idea that someone can always change for the better, no matter how far gone they may seem.  Also, I like to think there is a shard of good in everyone, no matter how bad.  I know, it's idealistic. 

My own progress has been very slow.  I get impatient with it at times.  That, however, all depends on what you call "progress."   I'm so thankful to have kept journals and records.  I can look back and realize that things have actually progressed in the most important ways, at an almost imperceptible rate.  Spiritual growth.  Mental and emotional capacity. Improvement of character.  Improvement in skills.  Improvement in relationships.  Improvement in perspective.  Improvement in parenting.  These types of milestones are often unseen, even by ourselves. 

Recently I was digging through some of my old things for no apparent reason.  I have stacks of journals to be embarrassed about.  They are full of old thoughts, and old boyfriends, and things that reveal my trivial problems when I was younger.  I pulled out an entire journal about when I met my husband, and became engaged, and then got married.  I was relieved, because I didn't think I had written that much about it at the time.  (Being so infatuated with the whole idea of getting married could pull you away from actually recording anything about that important event.)  Then I looked at the next journal.  It was all about my children being born, the places we had lived and moved, and all of the happenings of my life up until about 3 years ago.  Again, I had so much joy knowing I hadn't forgotten to write it all down.  Since then, I've been writing down the wonderful and humorous things my children say, and teach me, in their own personal journals.  I'll give them that record when they leave my nest.  I didn't realize I had done so much record keeping!  How rewarding that was to know I had those writings.  I know someday I'll look back at this blog and laugh at myself then too.  But I'm so glad I can laugh about it, and see how far I've come. 

There is an analogy about climbing a mountain you've probably heard before:  That is, we should not look where we still have yet to plod upward, but we should look back and see how much distance we have traveled.  I can relate to this analogy in a very real way.  I hiked King's Peak in a backpacking group in college.  The hike was harder than I thought it would be, mostly because of the cold rain, a heavy pack, and bad shoes.  It took us about a week to enjoy this trip, and for the most part, I have very fond memories of it.  (Hopefully I wrote all that down somewhere.)  The most prominent memory I have though, was that we had nearly reached the top of the peak.  A storm was coming in.  There were only four of us in the group who decided to go ahead and try to make it to the top.  I wasn't going to come all that way, and then turn around and go home without seeing the top of the peak!  We were scrambling up the shale rock as fast as we could, but my backpacking instructor ordered us to turn around and head back to camp.  Everyone paused.  We were all deciding if we should be obedient.  I chose to obey, probably because of knowing from previous experience that I could likely blow off the mountain in a storm like that, exposed on the top of a peak.  I went back to my tent with the intention of climbing it again in the morning, and then with the intention of going back the next summer to climb it again, and then still today, never making it back to that peak.  I don't regret it though.  I look at that experience as a huge accomplishment. I climbed that mountain.  Almost to the top.  That's pretty awesome. 

"...that by small and simple thing are great things brought to pass;and small means in many instances doth confound the wise."~Alma 37:6

One

Who is that girl?
The other night, I was checking my email in bed, as I often do, right before falling asleep.  There was an add for the Yoga Journal Conference coming up in San Fransisco this coming January.  I nearly deleted it, without even opening it.  "I can't afford to go to that anyway this time," I thought.  But then, wistfully I just thought I'd entertain the idea.  So I opened it to check it out.  "That girl looks a lot like me," I thought.  "That girl has the same yoga op as me," I thought.  I tapped on the screen and got a closer look.  I screamed out loud.  "That IS me?!!"  It was a picture from last summer, when I attended only one day of the Conference in NYC.  My sister Heather and I went to the conference because our sister-in-law, Steffanie, had invited us out to visit, and attend.  All three of us enjoy teaching yoga classes, and it was a bonding experience in many ways. (Thank You Steff.)
I instantly started to send the picture out for friends and family to see.  I was so excited, it felt like Christmas for a squealy little girl.  I think partly I did this because I almost needed the affirmation from others that I wasn't imagining this.  Just a week prior, I had seen a  3 second clip of myself performing at the Timpanogos Storyteller's Festival here in Utah as a singer/songwriter.  On channel 5 I think it was... I had shared that with others as well.  Almost just as flamboyantly.

Thank You Heather, and Lisa
In the morning, when I woke up, I felt totally stupid.  I realized how self absorbed I had been, and now I was embarrassed that I didn't just keep it to myself, and a select few.  On top of that, I failed to recognize the fact that my sisters were in the photo as well.  How embarrassing!  As I attended our usual yoga class as a student with my sister Heather that morning, I felt exposed.  Our instructor opened the class talking about how we need to always think before we speak.  Oh, how appropriate.  I fell out of balance in many postures that day, and became easily distracted.  We worked on some difficult inversions near the end, and I simply could not perform under the imagined pressure I had created for myself.  I was way too attached to my molehill experience.  Heather, as my sister, was there for me.  She spotted me on the floor, and gave me valuable vocal help on things that could stabilize me.  After class, I asked Lisa, our teacher, if she would help me once more.  (After Savasana, you're definitely more relaxed.)  I was able to get into the pose and feel much more secure.  "You are strong", she said, but she also said I looked at her like I didn't believe her.  I nearly cried.  I couldn't tell another person about me.

Thank You Jason Crandall
This all got me thinking about ego.  This picture in fact was from a class we took from Jason Crandall.  Within the class, I learned some valuable things.  It was probably my favorite class I attended.  He spoke to us about our ego.  I remember him saying that we can't just check out our ego at the door, and expect to be free from it.  He said to work with it.  I noticed I was surprised by my own strength and ability in that class, and throughout the rest of the day in other classes as well.  It must have been all my adrenaline pumping from the excitement of being there.  I felt completely light, free, and capable.  Part of that, was I felt so much joy in being there.  I felt so much love for my sisters, and so much happiness in that there were so many surrounding me that loved yoga.  I listened intently to the teachers, trying to absorb it all.  My strength was obviously coming from not just me alone, but the unity in the classrooms.

Without Attachment   
"...giving me the opportunity to perform my prescribed duties in a disinterested way, and to use reason and discrimination to help maintain world order and make spiritual progress in this lifetime with no attachments to the fruits of my actions.  He whose heart gets purified through action without attachment obtains God-realization." ~ Dharma Mittra

In Dharma Mittra's book of 608 Asanas photographed by himself, it is said that "as a true yogi, he takes no credit for his acheivement, stressing instead the value of egolessness, or in yogic terms, "no I."  While he may insist that he did nothing to create the work, that the postures just flowed through him, we believe otherwise."

I have heard the analogy of tending to your projects, talents, goals, and such as if it were a garden.  Give it enough attention to thrive.  Give it water, sunshine, and allow it to flourish on it's own.  Without feeling attached to it.  These things do not define who we are.  When a plant in the garden withers, we will not wither, because we are not the plant itself.  However, never neglect the seed that can bring forth fruit.  Fruit to be shared with others.