so, I need to read einstein's autobiography probably.

I've been thinking about this whole compassion bit, and what it really, honestly, truly looks like in my life. It is easy to diagnose in other areas, and especially in people who differ from me and struggle with things and people that/who I do not struggle with- because it is removed from my own life and compassion issues. And I am forced to remember what Albert Einstein says:

"A human being is a part of the whole, called by us the “Universe,” a part limited in time and space. He experiences himself, his thoughts and feelings as something separate from the rest-- a kind of optical delusion of his consciousness. This delusion is a kind of prison for us, restricting us to our personal desires and to affection for a few persons nearest to us.

Our task must be to free ourselves from this prison by widening our circle of compassion to embrace all living creatures and the whole of nature in its beauty. Nobody is able to achieve this completely, but the striving for such achievement is in itself a part of the liberation, and a foundation for inner security."

"...restricting us to our personal desires and to affection for a few persons nearest to us."
The struggle is not only to free ourselves from this- but first to figure out WHAT the hell 'our personal desires' and WHO 'persons close to us' are. It's easy to point fingers and see where everyone else is faltering and being reactionary because of their own upbringing. Which, still, takes a certain awareness that not everybody has; however, that is only a part of the process; it's necessary to extend beyond this 'outer awareness' and find an even deeper inner awareness to apply this to our own lives. And in doing so we are able to "free ourselves from this prison..."

Einstein says "by widening our circle of compassion to embrace all living creatures..." we free ourselves of this self-inhibition. It is only by realizing who it is we find hard to love. What people-group, socio-economic class, personality-type, age-group- for whatever reason (to be discovered), has proven the most difficult to love. And those, specifically, are the people that we must endeavor to love most deeply. Because only by widening that circle of compassion to include those people will we be able to get outside of our own desires and slim aptitude for affection. Again, it is easy to love those who are like us. It is easier to understand the plight of those with whom we relate closely.

And if I deem the struggle of someone else, on any level, to be less than my own (or less than those whom I relate closely to), of course my natural response is some kind of disdain. I am frustrated that they do not see the situation for what it really is; that their circle of awareness is tiny (especially compared to mine), or some other invisible vice- that only after more breakdowns and realizations, I come to see in myself. Those people who annoy me, or just the 'unlovables' in people I do love (or, are trying to...), those are the people I must learn to understand and love. And so it seems the goal is: forever increasing compassion to free myself from the prison of some facile self-possession. Awesome, how conceivable.

and so goes the constant conversation with myself. The next challenge will to put down in writing the persons whom I must learn to love. I think we so easily convince ourselves (without even realizing it) of the rightness of our disdain (even the slight stuff!) that we don't notice it or the effects of it. And maybe we do, but can't find way to get out or around it. How utterly "plaguy". Thanks, GRE words.

goodmorning, Fall morning

This morning I woke up, chilled and fresh, with my poofy comforter pulled up to my neck. I probably karate kicked out of my bed, like most good mornings. (for what this looks like, look here, about 17-18 seconds in.) and claimed the day.
Annery and I then decided that today is a Fall day- which is why both of us were suddenly unbelievably happy. A day for scarves and small cups of coffee...

There are only a few things that can be done on a day like today:

First, you put on fall music that gets your soul happy.

Then, you made crepes with strawberries and bananas.

And then, you make a dress to wear to a tea party out of a bright red moo moo (complete with hibiscuses and parrots) that you found yesterday at Savers.

Then, you read for a bit next to a window.

And then finally, you got to a tea party with a bowl of cherries.



Today, you are on your way to a beautiful thing.

nostalgia and stuffy nose

Everybody here is a cloud, and everybody here will evaporate
because you came up from the ground, from a million little pieces-
have you found where your place is?

-------

I'm in one of those moods where nothing does the trick; but I try things like:
- listening to cloud cult
- watching youtube videos of fred astaire
- eating sweet things (sometimes helps)
- reading old journal entries or poetry (almost never helps)
- facebook (never helps)

it's okay, it'll pass.

I think I'll watch a movie or something. but, I'm afraid that will make me sadder; sometimes watching movies alone can have that depressing atmosphere around them. I dunno. Maybe I'll just sit on the back porch in the wind- hopefully strong enough to keep the blood-sucking thieves away. what, and stare off into the unknown distance? come on, bekah.

once more day of work, and then the weekend. this week is taking LONGER than the past two, and I'm only working part-time. Maybe it's because I'm only working part-time.

I have really nothing important to say here, and I don't know why I will hit the publish post button after this..


put a new bulb in the kitchen overhead. now it's a bit brighter in here

recordings.

So, I should record some of what happened to me when I was in nyc- after all it was two whole weeks of my life!
sarcasm.
but actually, it was a very intense two weeks that deserves some blogspace (new social networking provider? combination?) I learned a lot, about things, about myself, things, the nyc subway, things, walking fast, how hours are like minutes, tap dancing.
all in a day's work. ...class.
And now, at the end of it, I can tap dance. poorly, mind you, but tap dance. whereas I could not even dream of this before, I can now don a pair of tap shoes and wow you for about two seconds.
And I can tell you funny stories of a New-Yorker-ish version of Norm.
And a female version of Jeff.
And life seems more peculiar every time I start to look at it particularly.
I was challenged with new material (read: character) and air quality (read: smog headaches)
and time flying by.
The first week I couldn't even fathom going out after class was over; every day I was totally wiped and just wanted to go back to the apartment (lovingly shared by a friend for two weeks!) and crash. And read. And watch TV (what? TV? existing in my life?), and listen to our neighbors latin dance party. and/or the fire alarm. That's after looking at my disintegrating map forty times to make sure I actually wanted to be going uptown. (I did.)

But the second week was a new story. I was somehow fueled by my knowledge, a feeling of belonging finally started to settle and I could briskly pass anyone walking on the street and give (ah, mediocre) directions to those silly tourists. what do they know?!?!
I went to a show almost every day.

First show in NYC: Our Town at the Bowery St Theatre. It was okay. I had a very high bar for this show, having been in an incredible production of it myself- and honestly it lacked a lot for me in a few ways. But there was a surprise at the end that I was not expecting- something that played on every sensory faculty.. including the smell of real cooking bacon. What an interesting twist! I thought the over-all direction was not very cohesive, and the acting for some of the characters left some to be desired (Not George, though! HE was great!!!), but in all, an okay way to spend an evening.

MY FIRST BROADWAY EXPERIENCE: Promises, Promises with Sean Hayes and Kristen Chenoweth. Amazing! I was blown away! So funny and polished! It also made me fear for my ability to do this because of the wonderful dancing, and I can't help but be jealous of the people who have been doing dance their whole life.

Second Broadway experience (well, off-broadway): Next to Normal with Alice Ripely, Brian d'Arcy James, Kyle Dean Massey, Jennifer Damiano, Adam Chanler-Berat, and ....I can't remember his name but I'll fill it in later. INCREDIBLE. I have too many words or no words to describe this experience. It was breathtaking in many different ways, and truly moved me. all words seem pathetic, so I'll stop here: literally INCREDIBLE; without credit enough for it's due.

Third (well, fourth show): Sondheim on Sondheim! What a different show from the rest! I was not sure what to expect from this show (I only knew it was a revue/tribute of/to Stephen Sondheim) and I thought it was effortless the way they put everything together- the staging mixed with the technology of 50+ (? I can't judge numbers, give me a break) tv screens all over the stage in varying planes and  heights. They make up the whole set (stairs, platforms, flats) with pull-away parts that came together to form a large screen. It was pretty magnificent (I was trying not to think about how much it all cost!) and the actors were lovely. My favorite moment had to be Norm Lewis' interpretation and performance of "Being Alive" from Company. It was intense. At moments that I started to drift from the show (hey, it happens)- by the end of this song, he had everyone's complete attention. So much passion- and I was impressed as it is a 'clip' from the show and doesn't have the entire rest of the play to back it up or be fueled by. He was wonderful. and the applause after the song was the longest out of everything else.

Fifth: Race, written/directed by David Mamet. What a disappointment. Horrible. I have almost nothing good to say about this show, I'm sorry. It was really terrible. I was totally turned off from the first thirty seconds, and I thought about the possibility of leaving at intermission because I didn't want to have to sit through it (I ended up sitting through it). I tried to pick apart whether it was the writing, directing or acting that was horrid; but I think it was a mess of the three. Mamet should NOT have directed his own piece, it was the total demise. His bias of the work was so evident by it being shoved down our throats. The pacing was totally off (way too slow and weird.), the writing was all about these biting one-liners (which is maybe Mamet's style, but MAN I don't like it), the actors made amateur mistakes (flubbing lines??!?! stopping lines short where someone is supposed to cut in but they don't?!?!?! dropping energy like it's hott?!?! what is this!?!? Broadway!? I can't believe it?!?!), and the racial jokes were too much to handle. There was an uncomfortable air- a white-man's apologetic plea and guilt-induced laugh . I'm sorry, but I did not give a standing ovation, I stood (sat?) my ground, even there in the second row. I clapped sitting down, thanking them that it was over, and hoping desperately that they will do better tomorrow. It's a sad day when I spend $70 on a show this disappointing. and BROADWAY? ah.

Sixth: The Fantasticks. Okay! Well, again, I had no idea what to expect from this piece, and I was pleasantly surprised overall. In the beginning I wasn't too impressed because the style was different than what I usually jam with and/or different than what I was expecting. It's very circus-y. Actually, quite like a circus. I had only heard one song from this show before seeing it ("Much More"), and I imagined the way I would direct that piece, or how I would sing it-- and it was so different in the full show. It had a Brecht-ian air to it, a meta-theatre feel that kept you as a distanced audience member watching the action as social commentary. It's not that I didn't like what it had to say; quite the opposite. I thought it was well-done in the style it was done in. I think I would just be interested in directing it differently-- what would it look like to make it less Brecht-ian; not to over-sentimentalize it (which could easily be done), but to make it less like a performance within a performance? I loved the Mute's character. How interesting!
Overall, a good ending to my nyc show experience. Thank GOD it wasn't Race I ended on. It almost was! But I didn't want to leave with a bad taste in my mouth.

Well, there's show reviews for you. More on the classes later. I'm tired, and it's 1am.
figures.

post-nyc, pre-job

So, I have a few days to... myself. Mostly filled with the dread of things I should be doing-
moving fully upstairs, cleaning out stuff, organizing, planning, checking my diminishing bank balance. And remembering things I've forgotten: depositing house fund checks for rent, finishing and sending in paperwork, being on top of things, etc. Adult things.

And I can't help but want to watch the hunchback of notre dame and eat grilled cheese and tomato soup all day, while cuddling with poofy blankets. And, it's been pretty damn good weather out there too, a little hot even (a little?). What the hell is this?

But I'm to make community dinner tonight, something that should make me feel better. hopefully. Maybe that will make me an adult.

I'm in denial. or something.



So, I make cupcakes instead. delicious vegan cupcakes. and now, I'm an adult.

There is something in me that I can't explain.

And no words make it palpable in the way that I want for anyone to understand- it always seems to be taken in the wrong way. I don't know where it came from, or why I seem to be such an oddity.

It is the pain when I see women being strung out in a disgustingly perverse and constricting social construct. All that is fancy words.
When you are placed into a small box and told to fill that square, and only that square. When someone tells you don't gain one pound, you're perfect where you are. When a man has control over your actions and decisions, and you feel helpless. When that person says "size six is perfect for you". When you are uncomfortable to the point of saying yes even if you want to say no. When you continue to believe that this perfect hair, skin, makeup, clothes, body will make you more desirable, appropriate, actually beautiful.

And no one seems to understand my anger at these things. I feel so misunderstood when I show my anger-- it seems to be rejected by the people for which I am angry. I am angry when you say you need to be sexy for him. I am angry when you couldn't say no to an uncomfortable discussion or car ride. I am angry when the re-touched photo is the one getting every comment; the one used to say "you're beautiful inside AND out". What is she supposed to believe? When we all buy into this ourselves?

And the most and only times I am complimented by men is when I have make-up on, and it's usually a comment like "are you wearing make-up? you look beautiful." WHAT THE HELL IS THAT. And why am I the only one that seems to see this? I'm so godddamn sick of women telling each other that this "model" body that you are up-keeping for the few months it's physically possible is the most beautiful they've ever been? WHY do we use THIS picture to say "you're beautiful inside AND out"? WHAT ARE WE SUPPOSED TO BELIEVE BY THAT? Why do we continue this?

Why are we conditioned this way? and why the hell can't anyone say no? SAY NO. SAY NO, DAMN IT.

And I want to empower women. I am so sickened by this moment of subversion and construction- when strong women feel they don't have the power to say no when they are in an uncomfortable situation. When women I love continue to subvert themselves to the will of a man; I barely have words.

AH why is it so hard to say no? I'm so mad at these women for continuing it onto themselves! It is an anger that I want people to understand- towards the inaction, not the person! DO something, damn it. do something. stop talking in a softer, sweeter voice when he's on the phone. stop hoping that he thinks you're hot. stop straightening your hair. stop buying cute underwear. and all of this doesn't make enough sense when it's outside my brain for anyone to agree.
"Why should I stop buying cute underwear? It's for me. I like feeling sexy when no one else knows."
IT IS ALL A CONSTRUCT, DAMNIT. I'M SO GODDAMN SICK OF IT. And I know I'm not better than all of this. I care about my body, my hair, my clothes, the attention I get from men.
But I want to subvert the patriarchy and the culture too;
I don't WANT to remain under this pressure and construct. And I think it's taken by these women as me being up on my pedestal or something- which I don't want to be.

And my anger is rejected by these women so often; misunderstood and taken as an attack on them personally-- even though it is AT THE SYSTEM that I am PISSED OFF. I am so goddamn sick of it.
I want you to be able to say no. I want you to think that picture you hate of you is beautiful.
I barely have any words to describe this. I barely have words.

Vegan Carrot-Almond Spice Muffins

Ingredients:
3/4 cup cane sugar
1/2 cup canola oil
1 teaspoon vanilla
1 1/4 cups grated carrot
1/2 cup soy milk
1 2/3-2 cups white whole wheat flour
2 Tbs Ground Flax Seed
1-2 teaspoon ground ginger
2 tsp baking powder
2 tsp baking soda
1/4 teaspoon salt
1/2 cup ground almond meal
2 ½ tsp apple cider vinegar

1. Preheat oven to 350˚ and lightly oil 24 muffin tins
2. Mix sugar, oil, vanilla, grated carrot, and soy milk in a large bowl.
3. Mix/Sift together the flour, flax seed, ginger, baking powder, salt, and almond meal into a medium bowl.
4. Add flour mixture to liquid mixture and mix just until combined.
5. Add the apple cider vinegar, stir and fold in gently. You will see pale swirls and bubbles starting to form.
6. Pour into muffin tins, filling 3/4 of the way full, NO MORE! They will rise and cook better this way!
7. Bake 25-30 minutes, or until a toothpick comes out clean. Cool about 5 minutes in the pan and then move onto a cooling rack.

So GOOD! So moist and fluffy. I'm telling you, it's all in the vinegar at the end. It makes all the difference in Vegan baking! So many vegan baked goods are so dense. Not these!

I made these today for my roommate who is moving away, and also for my lovely boss who is working many long hours; never sleeping, and forgetting to eat. I am proud! When I make these again, I think I'll add a bit more almond meal, and maybe sprinkle the tops (pre-baking) with some slices almonds. I wanted more almond. I also wanted some cardamom, but I couldn't find my ground cardamom this morning so these don't get it. But next time... that sounds great.

Also, that is a tiny cup of turkish coffee in the back. Highly recommend ANYTHING with Turkish coffee, but expecially baked goods. oh yes, ooh yes.

Also, Also, the colors in the picture don't seem to be coming through very well. The bread is a little more orange than the picture, warmer colors.

ps. a variation:
omit the almond meal, add oats instead,
and a handful or two of raisins,
and a shake or two of cinnamon.
before baking, cover tops of muffins with thin layer of oats for some presentation points.
delicious!

The Shame of Quietness

And all misery come to me,
someone who keeps annoyances completely silent.
Oh, shut up. Stay under there!
The tablecloth trembling with desire to just
slop and dribble my secret everywhere-
to everyone- to be released into the raucous of some pillowed room.
In anger I stab with a livid fork, prodding any solid being
manifested under the stiff cloth.

Even I am afraid to look. The pang growing in my chest-
swelling up, the mortal immortal, neuter being
doubling over in size:
frightfully inept, and quite boisterous.
With a boldish effort I nudge and jab-
waiting like an expectant child for the soft rebound
of squashing prongs upon skin;
thick tar in the sun;
strangely elastic, stretched over too much fat--
expecting it,
the fork-prick;
but slowly elusive.

Delicious things.

So, I actually stopped myself from eating this sandwich halfway to take a picture today. I always think of it after I've eaten the thing.

Grilled Tempeh Sandwich: with caramelized onions and roasted red pepper

Caramelize sliced white or red onions in a pan with some olive oil, after they are starting to soften, push them to the side of the pan and add a bit more oil and then the tempeh. Crack some fresh salt and pepper on the tempeh as it's grilling (if you have something heavy to put on them, it helps them cook evenly, but it's no too important).
Toast the bread as the tempeh and onions are almost done.
I like to put some Dijon mustard and veganaise on there, and lettuce if I have it (I didn't today).

But it's still delicious, especially with a little bit of coffee. and a porch to eat it on.



lots to update, but no time.

From Mary Oliver,

From the complications of loving you
I think there is no end or return.
No answer, no coming out of it.

Which is the only way to love, isn't it?
This isn't a playground, this is
earth, our heaven, for a while.

Therefore I have given precedence
to all my sudden, sullen, dark moods
that hold you in the center of my world.

And I say to my body: grow thinner still.
And I say to my fingers, type me a pretty song.
And I say to my heart: rave on.