fall light, a welcome reminder

I fell in love with fall as a kid, when most of my days were spent on the back of a horse. September, October, and November were my favorite months of the year to ride, as the fall season brought with it a firm ground and cool air, both making conditions perfect for a sprint across an open field or a repeated go at a cross country course. It was in these moments, as I hung low over my horse's neck for speed, checks flushed with exertion and the slap of cold wind, that I came to notice even one more thing that I love about this time of year: the light.

It's the light that has remained with me, the one thing that gives me pause with its return every fall, every year. The first cast of the season thrown, turning everything gold in its wake, arrests my breath every single time.

In my 25 years, I have lived in the American Northeast, Midwest, Southwest, and Northwest. The telltale signs of fall have differed in every region, and in my nostalgic opinion, no place on earth will ever have contest against autumn in New England. The rain came too soon to wash away the fall colors in Michigan, the heat stayed too long to resemble any break of season in Arizona, and the trees are too scant to notice any change in California's San Francisco.

The only constant tie between each place has been the light. Many a time, the fall light has been my saving grace when I'm feeling a bit displaced, when I'm feeling I've come too far from home. The way that it hits everything with a slant, dusts everything with a clean glimmer...it's my one reminder of time and place in a world and life that have begun to move too fast.

I welcome the fall light every year as a reminder to slow down. A reminder to look around. A reminder to get outside. And a reminder, most importantly of all, to be grateful, grateful for the fact that no matter where I am, or how I feel, there will always be something that gives me recognition, and with that recognition, peace.

our lovely kitchen

I apologize for the lapse in time since my last post. It's for good reason, though, I swear.

I've been busy pursuing my love for food and quest to spread balanced, healthy perspectives of all things culinary. In doing so, our lovely kitchen was founded.

Because I wanted our lovely kitchen  to be a space that nourished a loving relationship with food, I felt the need to incorporate outside voices into its pages. Each of our relationships with how we eat are so individual, that I thought it might be detrimental for the site to only carry my perspective.

Thus, our lovely kitchen was born. So far, it contains the work of six different women (with more in the works!). We've come together to share recipes, tell our food traditions, give cooking tips, review restaurants, and more.

This new project has been nothing short of inspiring. I hope you'll check it out.

xoxo,
Audrey

Whole30 - Week 4

We did it. And I'm so glad.

I'll post a separate Whole30 recap, but for now, let me say this: In 30 days, we got a glimpse of a healthier lifestyle that left us wanting for more.

Here's our final meal plan. Thursday was our last day. On Friday, we "eased" back into our regular eating habits with 4th of July hotdogs (buns included!), potato chips (the majority were sweet potato chips), and a teensy bit of wine ;-).

Monday

Breakfast - No-bake fruit and nut bar

Lunch - Curried cream of broccoli soup

Dinner - Fajitas & guacamole

Snacks - banana

Tuesday

Brunch*  - Sausage, bell pepper, and onion omelette

Dinner - Organic chicken apple sausages and sweet potato fries

Snacks - Apple with almond butter

*went into work late due to a DMV appt; had time to eat a big breakfast later into the morning

Wednesday

Breakfast - Banana, No-bake fruit and nut bar

Lunch - Leftover burgers and homemade guacamole

Dinner - Green curry with chicken and broccoli (3 tablespoons curry cooked in 1 tablespoon coconut oil, add 1 diced onion and cook for ~5 minutes over medium heat, add chicken and cook through, add broccoli and coconut milk, salt and pepper to taste, and simmer until broccoli is completely cooked and all is heated through)

Snacks - Apple with almond butter

Thursday

Breakfast - Banana, no-bake fruit and nut bar

Lunch - Curried cream of broccoli soup

Dinner - Burgers with avocado mango salsa in lettuce wraps, grilled onions, peppers, and zucchini 


See Whole30 - Week 1; Whole30 - Week 2; Whole30 - Week 3
(If you're looking for the remaining 5 meals of our Whole30 that I left out from the beginning (for the sake of satisfying my OCD tendencies of needing meal plans Monday - Sunday), just ask!)

Whole30 - Week 3

We're in the home stretch! Less than a week to go! And thank goodness. Because, I have to admit, I am over this.

I hit a wall last Thursday - I became tired of constantly meal planning, prepping, cooking and cleaning. But you know what? I feel good. And, although it is work, the Whole30 is not hard. I'm lucky to have the luxury of taking such good care of my body, or so I'm reminding myself.

While I may be tired of this whole ordeal, I am grateful for it. So, without further ado, here's our Whole30 week 3 meal plan:

Monday

Breakfast - Banana, Egg prosciutto muffin cups

Lunch - Curried cream of broccoli soup

Dinner - Slow cooker shoulder roast, broccoli

Snacks - No-bake fruit and nut bar

Tuesday

Breakfast - Banana, egg prosciutto muffin cups

Lunch - Curried cream of broccoli soup

Dinner - Southwest meatloaf

Snacks - Dried apricots (no sugar added)

Wednesday

Breakfast - Banana, no-bake fruit and nut bar

Lunch - Leftover burgers and homemade guacamole

Dinner - Leftover Whole30-friendly red curry from my sister

Snacks - Apple with almond butter

Thursday

Breakfast - Banana, no-bake fruit and nut bar

Lunch - Curried carrot soup

Dinner - Salsiccia styled cauliflower crust pizza
Snacks - Dried apricots (no sugar added)

Friday
Breakfast - Banana, egg prosciutto muffin cups
Lunch - Curried carrot soup

Dinner - Spaghetti squash with Paleo pesto

Saturday
Brunch - Sweet potato, apple, and pancetta hash topped with scrambled eggs
Dinner - Paleolithic plate at Samovar Tea Lounge (yay for eating out!)
Snacks  - Dried fruit (no sugar added)

Sunday
Brunch - All-natural breakfast sausage and scrambled eggs
Dinner - Mustard lime chicken and brussel sprouts
Snack - That's It bar

coast to coast: western progression

There's this feeling I get when I'm on the East Coast; a feeling of comfort. It feels as if familiarity and lifelong friendships are wrapping their arms around me. Yes, that's it — I'd liken the feeling of being back East to a hug: comforting, tight, and unmoving.

It is that same sense of comfort, security, and tightness that drew me away. Though I was secure in the arms of those I loved, I was smothered in the grips of familiarity, of spaces small.

I safely broke out of comfort's tight hold by going to college halfway across the country, in Michigan. There, it simply felt as if my arms were hanging loosely by my sides. I was comfortable, but not comforted. I felt like Goldilocks trying out Mama Bear's porridge and chair: Michigan was too cold and too big. It wasn't right.

So then I tried something completely unknown, a lifestyle foreign and far from everything I was used to. I moved to Phoenix, to the valley of the sun. It was a time of challenge and a time of growth. My arms no longer felt wrapped around my core, nor did they lay limply at my sides. They were spread open, ready to embrace the new. And I did, I embraced the new. But the sun was imposing and the desert lacking. So when the West Coast called my name, I answered.

And now, with the familiarity of family coupled with the opportunity of the vast unknown, I feel just right. My arms, they're stretching high, tall and above me. I am not smothered, I am not lost, I am not stuck. I am home.

This westward progression of mine has been an evolution of character and happiness. With each step in the direction of California, I have unfolded. My arms are no longer wrapped around my core, hanging softly in confusion, or reaching blindly for the new. They're reaching up and reaching out into the endless space, and drawing in everything I love close.

Whole30 - Week 2

Garrett and I are just over halfway through our Whole30, and we feel great! I think we've hit the "Tiger Blood" phase. For me, this means that I am full of energy and always ready to do something active. Other than at work, I'm spending less time sitting and more time attending yoga class, going for walks, cooking, cleaning, and anything, really, on my feet.

But I'm getting ahead of myself. This post is supposed to be devoted to week 2. 

How did I feel in week 2? Well, once I got past day 10, I started to feel really good. Days 8 and 9 were filled with mild flu-like symptoms, with heavy sinus drainage, overall weakness, and a headache. I continued to consistently blow my nose through day 14 (TMI?), but as a person with a mild dairy allergy that leads to sinus issues, I wasn't surprised. 

I also feel like we figured out a better meal and snack balance in week 2. I didn't really think of snacks in week 1, or size meals appropriately (large enough) for the husband. After making these adjustments and again devoting time to meal planning, grocery shopping, and cooking, it really started to feel like smooth sailing.

We got this.

Here's our week 2 meal plan:

Monday

Breakfast - Banana, Egg prosciutto muffin cups

Lunch - Curried cream of broccoli soup

Dinner - Almond chicken fingers, braised kale, sweet potato fries

Snacks - No-bake fruit and nut bar

Tuesday

Breakfast - Banana, egg prosciutto muffin cups

Lunch - Leftover steak and homemade guacamole

Dinner - Cauliflower crust pizza with homemade tomato sauce, all natural chicken apple sausage, red onion, and red bell pepper

Snacks - Apple with almond butter

Wednesday

Breakfast - Banana

Lunch - Leftover steak and homemade guacamole

Dinner - Leftover Whole30-friendly red curry from my sister

Snacks - Dried fruit (no sugar added)

Thursday

Breakfast - Banana, no-bake fruit and nut bar

Lunch - Leftover cauliflower crust pizza 

Dinner - Tamale Pie & fresh guacamole
Snacks - Apple with almond butter

Friday
Breakfast - Banana, egg prosciutto muffin cups
Lunch - Leftover tamale Pie & fresh guacamole

Dinner - Salad from Roam Artisan Burgers

Saturday
Brunch - All-natural breakfast sausage, mushroom, and onion quiche
Dinner - Burgers topped with guacamole, sweet potato fries, and braised kale
Snacks  - Dried fruit

Sunday
Brunch - All-natural breakfast sausage and scrambled eggs
Dinner - Chicken tikka masala

Whole30

If you know me at all, you know that I love food.

Good food is one of the things that makes me happiest in life. For that reason, I hardly ever diet. I don't like to deny myself of happiness.

But over the past few months, good food started to lose its appeal. True to routine, I was eating too much. And all of the sudden, eating too much wasn't making me very happy.

I started my first desk job in March. While I absolutely love it, I began to notice that packing on the pounds became much easier when I was sitting all day opposed to chasing horses and kids around the clock.

Not to mention all of the snacks we have in our office. I am a Goldfish cracker fiend. And cereal? Hell, I hadn't eaten cereal in years until I started my new job. Then, almost immediately, I was eating cereal almost every morning.

My diet became full of processed foods, pumped with sugar and preservatives and all types of things that aren't so good for you. I started to feel unhealthy.

So, I decided to embark on the Whole30. Thirty days of cutting "out all of the psychologically unhealthy, hormone-unbalancing, gut-disrupting, inflammatory food groups for a full 30 days." What, exactly, does this mean? Well, this is what I can eat during the Whole30: meat, seafood, eggs, vegetables, fruit, oils, nuts, and seeds. Things with very few ingredients, or no ingredients at all. What I can't have? Added sugar (real or artificial), grains, legumes, white potatoes, alcohol, carageenan, MSG, or sulfates. (If you're looking for more details, look here.)

Luckily, my husband is doing this with me. I'm not sure how strong my willpower would be if I had to do this alone, because, like I said before, I love food.

We're 10 days in and feeling pretty good. I've noticed some changes, which I'll share in the weekly meal plan posts. The most important thing that I'd like to share now, though, is that I haven't been hungry. At all.

I'll add our weekly meal plans as we go. Week 1 is up now:

Week 1

Week 2

Week 3

Week 4

Whole30 - Week 1

Garrett and I have officially made it through one week of the Whole30. Hallelujah! I kid you not -- never have I made it this long before through any dietary restrictions. Seven days may seem minimal to you, but to me, this is huge.

I attribute my endurance to:

1) Preparation. Had I not planned out each meal of the week and grocery shopped accordingly over the weekend, this whole thing would have fallen through the cracks on day 1. (See the general grocery list I worked off of here.) 

2) Time. Other than a few yoga classes, I left my evenings open to allow myself the time to cook dinners and prepare breakfast and lunch for the day(s) to come.

3) Open Calendar. Garrett and I picked a month where our social engagements were low -- no big events, no traveling, etc. There's no way I would do this over a vacation or during a time busy with celebrations (you can't drink alcohol!).

But mostly, I think that I've been able to stick to this (so far) because I haven't been hungry. 

So, with that, let me share our filling Whole30 Week 1 meal plan:

Monday

Breakfast - Egg muffins (eggs scrambled with onion and green pepper, baked at 350F until done), banana

Lunch - Salad (chicken, lettuce, cucumber, jalepenos, onion, no dressing)

Dinner - Baked mustard lime chicken with cauliflower rice and snow peas

Snacks - Apple with almond butter*

Tuesday

Breakfast - Egg muffins, banana

Lunch - Homemade chicken salad (chicken, onion, celery) with homemade mayonnaise (1 egg, 1/2 c olive oil, 1 lemon juiced, tsp of mustard)

Dinner - Spaghetti squash with spinach marinara (5 tomatoes, 1/4 c water, salt, basil, oregano, pepper, onion, olive oil, garlic) and meatballs (1lb ground beef, 1 tsp basil, oregano, garlic, salt, pepper, 1/4 c sundried tomatoes in oil)

Snacks - Apple with almond butter

Wednesday

Breakfast - Banana. Egg scramble -- eggs, red onion, green pepper

Lunch - Salad

Dinner - Italian pork roast, broccoli, cauliflower rice

Snacks - Apple with almond butter

Thursday
Breakfast - Banana. Egg scramble -- eggs, red onion, green pepper
Lunch - Leftover pork roast, cauliflower rice, and broccoli
Dinner - Apple dijon burgers and sweet potato fries

Friday
Breakfast - Banana, apple
Lunch - Salad from Mixt Greens

Dinner - Chicken tikka masala

Saturday
Breakfast - Sweet potato hash topped with a fried egg
Lunch - All-natural turkey breast from the grocery inside of the San Francisco Ferry Building (they prepare their turkey breast daily), apricots, and leftover broth from Friday's tikka masala
Dinner - Keema (without peas) and cauliflower rice
Snacks  - Banana Bread Larabar**

Sunday
Breakfast - Sweet potato hash with onions and green pepper, topped with a fried egg
Lunch - Curried cream of broccoli soup
Dinner - Steak and sweet potato fries
Snacks  - Dried fruit (no sugar added)


Although I didn't feel hungry throughout week one, I did experience some changes in my mood and energy levels. On days 2 and 3 I was in a funk -- a little bit moody, testy, and down. The downswing of emotions was the side effect of my body going through sugar withdrawal (for real. See the Whole30 Expected Timeline here). On days 5, 6, and 7 I was pretty tired -- also totally normal. It wasn't necessarily fun, but once I passed day 7, my mood and energy levels were back to normal.

*I did a little overkill with the apple and almond butter as my snack in week 1 -- really, I shouldn't have had as many nuts as I did (read through Whole30 rules for explanation). I wasn't really thinking of snacks when I grocery shopped for week 1, so I made sure to add snacks to my list for week 2.
**Larabars are our "emergency" snack, as they're good to bring when you're on the go. Whole30 rules discourage you from eating them as treats, as your brain doesn't really know the difference between a Snickers bar and a Larabar. Each bar is different, so if you're picking some up, be sure to read the ingredient list. 

Also, sweet potato fries may have just become my new best friend. (Just wash, dry, cut into strips, toss in olive oil, sea salt and petter, and bake (lay out flat) at 400F until crispy, about 35 minutes.)

Crowd-pleasing Key Lime Pie

I started making key lime pie when my husband and I moved to Phoenix. The condo we rented had a huge, lush lime tree that was just begging to be picked. Sure, the limes weren't "key" limes, but they did the job for this pie just fine.

I've been making this pie for years, but this Memorial Day weekend was the first time I made it without my own, homegrown limes. I still opted for regular-sized limes at the store — have you seen how tiny key limes are? There was no way that I was going to juice 16 limes for this pie...

Anyway. The pie was still a huge success at our Memorial Day BBQ, with many people going back for seconds and claiming it was the best key lime pie they'd ever had.

Here's the recipe. Health fanatics, brace yourself, because healthy this pie is not. But trust me. Some things just are meant to be this way, and are better for it.

Step one: make the graham cracker crust. Yes, you heard me right. Homemaking it is extremely easy and makes all the difference in the world.

Ingredients:
1.5 cups graham cracker crumbs (I crush up a pack of Honey Maid's Honey graham crackers)
1/3 cup white sugar
1/2 heaping teaspoon ground cinnamon
6 tablespoons of butter, melted

Mix the graham cracker crumbs, sugar, cinnamon, and butter together. Press into a greased 8" pie dish (9" would work, too). Bake at 375 degrees F for 8 minutes. Take it out of the oven to cool while you prepare the pie filling. Turn the oven temperature down to 350 degrees F.

Now it's time to make the key lime pie filling.

Ingredients:
3/4 cups fresh lime juice (about 4 regular sized limes), plus additional to taste
1 tablespoon grated lime zest
3 cups sweetened condensed milk (I use Eagle Brand, 3 of the 14 oz cans)
1/2 cup sour cream

Combine the lime juice, lime zest, sweetened condensed milk, and sour cream in a bowl. Mix well. If needed, add extra juice and zest in slowly until you get the flavor you desire. Pour the mix into the cooled graham cracker crust (let the crust cool for about 25 minutes before adding filling). Bake in the oven for 7 minutes, until tiny bubbles start to burst on the surface. Do not let the pie brown. Remove from the oven and chill completely before serving.

(Note: I usually have a little bit of extra filling. I store it in a mason jar and spread over graham crackers for a quick and easy small dessert!)

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Serendipity and The Bronze Horseman

My sleepy eyes took a moment to adjust to the foggy text that scrolled across my iPhone. It was early in the morning, and I had only just looked at my phone to silence the alarm.

Who is talking to me this early? I thought, rubbing my eyes.

The text then came into focus. It was my dear friend Amelia, who was traveling throughout Southeast Asia.

"Did you tell me to read The Bronze Horseman?" she asked.

"Yes!" I chatted back.

 "I can't put it down!!" she replied.

And just like that, two old friends half a world away from each other were connected by a shared love for a wonderful book.

Amelia and I grew up together; struggled through our awkward phases together, started to come into our own together. Life and college and marriage and travel has separated us, but when we connect, it's like we never skipped a beat.

A small way that we've maintained contact is through sharing book recommendations with one another every once in a while, though I'd say most of the time the books are just added to our lists and saved for later.

Which is what Amelia did when I told her about The Bronze Horseman; she made a mental note of it. I am led to believe that Amelia, as a world traveler, 1) does not have frequent or easy access to bookstores and 2) packs too lightly to carry every book ever recommended to her. I definitely understood her mental shelving of The Bronze Horseman.

I first read The Bronze Horseman my senior year of college, and instantly plummeted into the depths of its rich, powerful story of love and war. The story engulfed me. It was the kind of book that made me want to abandon all contact with the outside world -- classes, friends, family, boyfriend -- so I could curl up in bed and read.

Because Amelia might be the only person more obsessed with love and romance than I am (she once cried ten minutes into seeing The Notebook in the theater), I just knew she had to read it. I told her so. That was four years ago.

I tend to re-read my favorite books every couple of years, so when I delved into The Bronze Horseman last summer, I reminded Amelia again.

It wasn't until a couple of weeks ago, though, that she finally heeded my advice.

"I remember you telling me to read it a long time ago and I found it in a book swap in one of my hostels! I started it today and am on page 219 - I don't want it to end!" I could practically hear her excited voice jumping through her message. Equally excited, I knew that her coming upon The Bronze Horseman in a Cambodian hostel, miles and miles and oceans away, was completely, thoroughly, one hundred percent supposed to be.

Even though I haven't seen Amelia in over two years, I never felt closer to my childhood friend in our adult lives than in that moment.

So cheers to serendipity; to old friendships, beloved books, and passages of time.

(And oh...cheers to the author, Paullina Simmons, for bringing such a good book (and series!) into the world--one wonderful enough to connect two friends on two different continents. If you haven't read this book, DO!)

Lovers' Lane

I am not a runner, nor do I define myself as any type of athletically-engaged individual. I do relish in my ability to exercise, though, and love the fact that if I want to run, I merely have to throw my hair up, pull on a sports bra, lace up my sneakers...and go.

That's what I did tonight. After putting on a few (or ten) pounds since moving to one of the most foodie cities in the country, I decided it might be time to get outside and work up a sweat.

Garrett said he would join me on the run, so I knew we would end up pushing ourselves farther than I would ever push myself. I am so, so glad that we stretched our legs a little longer for we ended up at the Presidio, a beautiful park that served as an army post for 218 years.

Garrett asked if he could run off-path in the woods, and as soon as I nodded my head he took off like a bullet. With no company and no phone, I continued down the path on my own.

As I trusted my feet to do their job and carry me forward, I kept my eyes up to soak in views of the Golden Gate Bridge, children playing hide-and-seek, birds darting through the air, and the soft evening sunshine filtering down through leafy green trees.

And in that moment, with my non-runner feet running, stripped of all connection to anyone else, I was at peace.

The peace grew as the path became enclosed by an archway of trees and opened at an old wooden bridge. This was the end of the trail, and at it was a sign that told me I had just come down Lovers' Lane, the oldest path in the Presidio. It went on to say that soldiers once walked Lovers' Lane to meet with their sweethearts in the city. Upon reading the sign, my heart took flight. I had just delighted in the same trail that hundreds before me had used for the best thing in the world: love.

My happy heart and tired feet encouraged me to walk the path back to the entrance, so walk I did. And when I saw my husband waiting for me at the top of the hill by the front gates, I imagined what it must have felt like to be a soldier laying eyes on his sweetheart at the edge of Lovers' Lane.

image from presidio.gov

The Body Project

Here's a thought: why don't we start focusing on what our bodies DO instead of how our bodies LOOK?

I'm not implying that we shouldn't care about our appearance, only that we should love it. If you don't love the way you look and are looking for a change, then I think it's extra important to start with loving yourself. In turn, I believe that a foundation in loving yourself comes from focusing on all of the wonderful things that our bodies do.

Today, my body woke me up nine minutes before my alarm went off, as it does almost every morning. It pays attention more to the sunlight hitting my eyelids than the organized setting on my clock. Annoying, but amazing, right?

And then it allowed me to think about the things I needed to get done in the immediate future: pee, shower, brush teeth, floss, get dressed, apply makeup, take dog out, go to work.

Next, without hesitation or difficulty, it let me swing my legs off of the bed and carry me through my morning's activities.

Once I got to work, my body connected my thoughts into productivity. It also ate a banana, a muffin, and soaked in two cups of coffee (and then some). 

After work, it let me hear my sister's voice over the phone so I could meet her. Then, my body brought me to my sister. It allowed me to reflect on the day and laugh about the present. And then it did me the favor of digesting a lovely dinner and a glass (or two) of wine. It maybe started to digest some Haagen Dazs Caramel Cone ice cream, too. Maybe.

And now, it's starting to relax. My feet are floppy and my eyes are drooping. My breath is steady. And, it's letting me do one of my favorite things--connecting my mind to my fingers and my fingers to my keyboard. It's letting me write.

The above is hardly a fraction of everything that my body did today. I've only just scratched the surface. 

Take a minute to think about all of the tiny things you've done over the past 24 hours. Did you think about something? Did you look at something, touch something, smell something, taste something? Did you move?

Did you appreciate what your body did for you today? 

Did you appreciate your body?

Did you appreciate yourself?

Did you love yourself?

I think it's time that we start finding a healthy alternative to the way we perceive ourselves. Help me by sharing your appreciation and experiences in the comment section below!

I'm loving the responses that I've gotten from beautiful women around the world!

"Remember our fun-filled day at the Sutro Baths?? Even after all the cheese and champagne, our bodies still somehow hiked up that mountain out of there! So brutal. Thighs burned. But we did it! And I would do it again for another amazing day like that with you ladies!" - from a beautiful lady in Scottsdale, Arizona

"Past: my body dove off a cliff in Croatia straight into the open Adriatic Sea. It braced the fall and resurfaced without hesitation. Caught in the massive swells of an approaching storm I kicked and swam towards shore for what felt like hours - yet making no distance. The waves were sucking us both towards the jagged rocks and also sweeping us out to sea. Adrenaline from the jump and tapped strength allowed me to eventually make it back to shore where I coasted over sea urchins and surfed in on an incoming wave.

Current: my body is miraculously fighting off crazy illnesses in Southeast Asia: stomach viruses, food poisoning, fevers, aches, chills. It will not stop fighting, simply getting stronger with each battle." - from a beautiful world-traveler, currently making her way through Southeast Asia

"My lungs fill with the crisp morning air. I close my eyes and feel the warmth of the sun on my skin. Even in the still that comes with early morning, I can hear the whirring of the city starting a new day. As I take my first sip of coffee, I am thankful for my bodies capacity to fully experience life's most simple moments:)" - from a beautiful woman in NY, NY

"So I am little embarrassed to admit this... but I was never able to do a push up until this year (and I am 27 years old). I mean it... not even ONE!!! Once I started my yoga teacher training and started practicing in the astanga tradition, my body started doing amazing things! I can now do 20 pushups without any problem and was even able to do 5 one-legged push-ups last night! 

I also had a pretty brutal intercostal muscle tear back in December and was told I couldn't practice for at least 5 weeks and I was terrified that this would set me back in my practice. The injury ended up taking almost 8 weeks to heal - but on my first day back on the mat it was as if I had been practicing the whole time. I remember thinking... wow, the body is an extraordinary!!!" - from a beautiful yoga instructor in Scottsdale, Arizona

San Francisco Shorts

“San Francisco is poetry. Even the hills rhyme.”~Pat Montandon

A collection of short stories to illuminate the character of San Franciscans

Instant Nausea 

It was Easter Sunday. My sister and I were walking from my apartment to hers, and stopped in a small British grocery on the way to pick up a few snacks. Standing at the check out, arms full of Taytos and Crunchies, I spotted a box of Cadbury Creme Eggs on the counter.

"Should I?" I asked the young British teller, presumably the owner of the store.

"You should," he answered, "they're only out once a year."

Inspired by his encouragement and slightly charming accent, I acquiesced and added an Egg to my purchase.

"I really hate these," he said, scanning the Egg, "they're so disgusting."

"Oh...," was my confused reply. I clearly did not think the Egg was disgusting and he clearly encouraged me to buy it.

"That'll be $6.80." And then, as I dug for my cash: "When I bite into them it's like ugh, gross! An instant wave of nausea. Just so, sugary, so thick, oh God thinking of it is making me sick. Instant nausea."

"Uhhhhh," I looked sideways at my sister.

"They're just so awful," he continued, "blah! And the caramel ones, don't even get me started. So gross," he handed me my change, "I don't know why anyone likes these godawful things."

"Well, happy Easter," I said meekly as I gathered my belongings, Cadbury Egg included.

My sister and I burst out laughing as soon as we exited the store. Worst sales man ever? I think so. Although, he did get me to buy the Egg.
_________________________________________________________________________________

Free Yogurt!

Garrett and I were about to descend into the bowels of a Bart station when we heard a man scream.

"YOGURT!"

We looked up. A middle-aged man, disheveled in every way but his happiness, was striding toward us with a shit-eating grin.

"YOGURT!" he screamed even louder, "FREE YOGURT!"

In his hand, he held a cone of soft serve.

"FREE YOGURT!" was yelled between licks.

You better believe that everyone around him started looking for the source of free yogurt. The man continued past us, happy as high heaven. As we took the escalator down to our train, I smiled as I heard the man continue on his happy trajectory.

Sometimes it's the small things.
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The Preacher

There is a woman that has taken recent residence of the city blocks surrounding my building. She is young, perhaps in her late 20's or early 30's. Apart from a head of locks matted in grease, she bears a healthy weight and a full set of straight, white teeth. Signs, in my opinion, that she is relatively new to the homeless life.

I first noticed her with an eye shadow compact in one hand, applying makeup to her reflection in the morning light of a Walgreens window. I have observed similar behaviors since; she seems quite concerned in maintaining a presentable appearance. In fact, that's all I ever saw her doing -- brushing her hair, puckering her lips with gloss, tucking in her shirt -- until I saw her trip.

And now, that's all she seems to ever be doing. Whether she is under the spell of narcotics or her own mind's demise, she is slipping farther and farther away from reality.

Her reality becomes replaced with preaching. Sometimes she braces her hand on a street pole, sometimes she stares at her own reflection, sometimes she stands in the middle of street and challenges others. Always, she is projecting her voice. Her words are strong, backed with a ferocity locked somewhere inside of her.

I passed her on my way out of work yesterday. She was leaning against the side of a building, preaching to the passersby paying her no mind. As I approached the woman, a small girl with brown curls was walking in front of me, wearing a rich red pea coat and clutching her father's hand.

The preacher pointed to the girl.

"THE CHILDREN, THEY ARE SICK, AND I'M SORRY SIR, BUT SHE WILL NOT MAKE IT."

Oh. My. God. A lifetime of nightmares for the girl flashed before my eyes, stemming from this horrible moment in time, in which her life was condemned by a screaming bum.

The girl turned to her father in confusion, and they both furrowed their brows. And then, miraculously, they looked straight ahead, the tiny hand clutching her father's slightly tighter.

I stood closely behind them as we waited for the crosswalk signal to change and sighed a huge breath of relief when they spoke. They were foreign. Completely unaffected.

Not me, though. The homeless, the drug addicts, the mentally ill...they will always affect me. I'm just not sure what to do about it yet. In the meantime, I guess I'll just keep listening to the preacher.
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Kate

On an evening Muni ride, a young girl sat facing an elderly woman. The woman, overweight enough to fill her own seat and then some, had frizzy gray hair poking out in all directions underneath a bike helmet.

As the girl squeezed into her corner of available seat, the older woman asked gruffly, "Does anyone call you Kate?"

"No!" the girl genuinely replied.

"Someday," scoffed the woman, dramatically tossing her head and angling her body away from the girl.
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Shit

Our shoebox of an apartment is conveniently located across the street from a small park. The stretch of grass comes in extra handy in having a dog, although ours wasn't shy about doing her business on the concrete when we first moved to the city.

The not-so-nice thing about living close to a bed of green, soft grass and dirt is that it often offers a comfortable slumber to a homeless man. So far, like many of the San Francisco homeless, this man has proved to be harmless.

Until he chose to cross the wrong man. Well, dog. He crossed the wrong dog.

Garrett took Mollie, our ten-year-old Labrador Retriever, to the park to do her business after work on Friday. Fulfilling the unpleasant duty of a dog owner, he bent to scoop up her waste.

"Pretty boy! Hey! Pretty boy!" the homeless man started yelling in Garrett's direction. Garrett, somewhat used to being taunted for his...daring fashion...ignored the man.

"Hey! I'm talking to you, pretty boy!" Garrett tossed Mollie's poop bag in the trash.

"Ha! Pretty boy! What's it like picking up shit?" The homeless man gave one last taunt.

"I've never really thought about it -- what's it like lying in shit?!" Garrett gave in. Mollie, oblivious, sniffed at the trash can.

The homeless man stood, angled his body offensively toward Garrett.

"What did you say to me, pretty boy?"

Sensing the tension, Mollie snapped to. In her pink harness and pink leash, all 75 chubby pounds of her in an elderly dog's body, she lunged. With the hair spiking along her spine, Mollie snarled and growled and snapped.

The homeless man held up his hands in surrender.

The pretty boy and the old pink-clad dog returned to their apartment in peace.

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Your Heat and Your Sunshine

Garrett and I were strolling down Fillmore Street on a sunny Saturday afternoon. The weather was warm and delightful; like us, many were out walking to take advantage of the beautiful day.

Stuck behind slow-moving pedestrians, our pace was slow. A woman walking against the flow of traffic stopped dead next to me.

"I am SICK and TIRED of your HEAT and your SUNSHINE!" she boasted, staring straight ahead with her fists clenched down at her sides.

Garrett and I glanced at each other sideways. Is she talking to us? We shrugged, giggled and moved on.

"Which one of us is sunshine, and which one of us is heat?" Garrett asked.

"I think I'm the heat," I answered, tugging on my red hair. "You're the sunshine!" we both laughed as we noticed Garrett's bright yellow shirt.

Were we certain that she was talking about us? No, and we never will be. The likelihood that she was referring to us was slim. Thankfully, on that day, she was the only person we came across that was sick and tired of our heat and our sunshine.

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Muni Marijuana

After yoga at Grace Cathedral one night, Garrett and I boarded Muni. The bus was full, so we ended up standing in front of an eclectically dressed elderly man sitting next to a classically dressed older woman. In addition to a pair of bright orange camouflage pants, the man donned a brown fedora with an abundance of dried marijuana tucked into its band. The man turned his head away from the woman next to him to look out of the front of the bus. The woman, giving a sideways glance, quickly plucked a stem from the man's hat. Holding the plant in both hands, she brought it to her nose multiple times to inhale its scent. By the third sniff, the man had returned to his normal position; he had to have seen the woman's prized possession, though he gave no hint to it. Guiltily meeting my eyes and darting her gaze toward others around her, she stashed the pot in her purse. At the next stop, she rose tall in her business suit and disembarked. He got off two stops after her. The remaining bus passengers erupted with laughter and disbelief, reaffirming to one another that scene indeed did just happen.

Intimidating Intrigue

I am easily intimidated. Though, at the same time, easily intrigued. It is the former than I have found much of my life to have fallen subject to and the latter that I hope to pursue with more vehemence as I age. In this practice, I hope that my strings to intimidation will be loosened.

The intimidation is a strong stakeholder in my need for distraction. To fuel this need I depend on books, music and screens. Like many, I disconnect from my surroundings by connecting to a network that stretches far beyond places I would naturally be able to see.

Far beyond places I would naturally be able to see.

What's left, then, of the places around me?

Luckily, for now, they are still there. But they might not be tomorrow. This possibility is a strong stakeholder in my need to be intrigued. This possibility forces me to put my iPhone into my back pocket, pull the headphones out of my ears, and walk. And when I walk without distraction, I see. I hear. I smell. I touch.

I am not intimidated by inanimate objects, inhuman objects. Such things are easy for me to observe and from that ease grows ready enjoyment. I look to detailed architecture, delicate pathways, budding flowers, crashing water. I take in the character of each, store it in my heart, and move on.

It is the character of others that I find intimidating. From the decrepit homeless man on the street to the beautiful woman on the bus; they, and everyone in between, have potential to render me intimidated. Strong laughter and hunched shoulders and high heels and scarred faces and long curls and...they make me want to shrink away into distraction, a distraction provided all too easily by books and music and laptops and iPhones. Only a hand reach away, I can be transported beyond where my eyes can see.

Which is what I have always tended to do.

Until now.

I am actively trying to face this intimidation with intrigue, force my eyes to search instead of back away from the character of others. What is their story?, I want to know. Because, although I might be intimidated, although I want to shrink, I do not. With my shoulders held back and my head held high, and with a look put together to readily meet public eye, I think, am I, too, intimidating?

I don't know the answer to this, and I don't care to. Instead, I try to see beyond what is in front of me. I am looking, yes. But am I seeing?

Always, I want to know more. I don't know how or if I'll ever get there, but I do know this: I must always be intrigued. I must always be awake. I must always look to see what the immediate eye can reach.

San Francisco Adventures - Muni Marijuana

After yoga at Grace Cathedral last night, Garrett and I boarded Muni. The bus was full, so we ended up standing in front of an eclectically dressed elderly man sitting next to a classically dressed older woman. In addition to a pair of bright orange camouflage pants, the man donned a brown fedora with an abundance of dried marijuana tucked into its band. The man turned his head away from the woman next to him to look out of the front of the bus. The woman, giving a sideways glance, quickly plucked a stem from the man's hat. Holding the plant in both hands, she brought it to her nose multiple times to inhale its scent. By the third sniff, the man had returned to his normal position; he had to have seen the woman's prized possession, though he gave no hint to it. Guiltily meeting my eyes and darting her gaze toward others around her, she stashed the pot in her purse. At the next stop, she rose tall in her business suit and disembarked. He got off two stops after her. The remaining bus passengers erupted with laughter and disbelief, reaffirming to one another that scene indeed did just happen.

I love this city.

Whole30 Fajitas & Guacamole

I don't diet. Ever.

My husband, on the other hand, sings a different tune. He's got this thing called self-control, something that I lack. When he diets, we try to cook dinners for the both of us that fit within his restrictions. Most of the time. I'll admit that there have been two different dinners for two different people on the same night. Because, well, I don't diet.

But then Garrett came home with his most recent diet plan, the Whole30. After looking into it to find what he could and could not have, I liked the idea of it. You see, the Whole30 isn't really a diet. It's a move toward being more healthy by eating

"...meat, seafood, eggs, tons of vegetables, some fruit, and plenty of good fats from fruits, oils, nuts and seeds. Eat foods with very few ingredients, all pronounceable ingredients, or better yet, no ingredients at all because they're totally natural and unprocessed." - whole30.com

It was the latter part of that statement that struck me: "no ingredients at all because they're totally natural and unprocessed."

While I don't diet, I am working on toward filling my body with more healthy, natural and unprocessed foods. (You can read more about the Whole30 rules here and get the shopping list here.) And while I'm not totally diving into the Whole30 as Garrett is (hey, I told you I have no self-control), I am going to cook a month's worth of healthy, Whole30-compliant dinners.

Which brings me to tonight's meal: Whole30 Steak Fajitas & Guacamole

Goodness, were these good.

I started by making the guacamole mid-day and sticking it in the fridge to chill. You will need:

• 2 ripe avocados, mashed
• 1 clove garlic, minced
• juice of 1/2 lime
• 1/2 tomato, diced
• 1/4 small yellow (or red) onion, diced
• 1/4 teaspoon cumin
• 1/4 teaspoon kosher salt

Mix all of the ingredients in a bowl, cover, and set in the refrigerator (tip: save one of the avocado pits and stick it into the guacamole while it chills. This helps it from turning brown if any air sneaks in.)

After you have the guacamole done, make the marinade for the steak (or chicken would be great, too). You will need:

• 1/4 cup lime juice
• zest of 1 lime
• 2 cloves garlic, minced
• 1/4 small yellow onion, diced
• 1 teaspoon ground cumin
• 1 teaspoon southwest taco spice (you can substitute this with another teaspoon of cumin if needed)
• 2 tablespoons olive oil

Combine all ingredients in a bowl, add 1lb of flank steak strips (or chicken breast), and let marinate for a minimum of an hour in the refrigerator (the longer you let it marinate, the better).

When you're ready to have dinner, heat up a skillet, add marinated steak, and cook through (for about 8 minutes). While it's cooking, slice one red bell pepper and one green pepper. Add to the skillet, mix into the marinade, and cook for 2 more minutes.

Substitute tortillas with whole butter lettuce leaves (2 recommended for each fajita). Add meat, bell peppers, and onions from the marinade to the lettuce wraps. Top with guacamole. 

Eat and be amazed at how much you actually prefer eating your fajitas with lettuce wraps - the taste is SO much better!

What to Do When Your World Gets Rocked

I met two girlfriends for dinner last night, and a common theme rotated around the table: we have all been lied to about life.

We all grew up with plans and goals and expectations for ourselves that were fed by our surroundings. For example, you do well in high school, go to a good college, major in a subject that will prepare you perfectly for the rest of your professional life, graduate with a starting salary of 50k, begin a career and meet your significant other, and then balance said career with starting your own family.

Piece of cake.

I totally understand the first part of the above example: if you do well in high school, you go to a good college. Thankfully, we grew up in supportive households that taught the value and reward that lie in hard work. Yes, there is always value in hard work. Reward, though? In our twenties, we are no longer always rewarded for our hard work. Which, I know in the scheme of things, is important. It’s what adds value to ourselves as humans and teaches us not to be entitled. I've come to terms with always working hard, even when it isn't recognized by others because, well, I recognize it. Which leads me to the next part, the part of the example that I'm totally hung up on.

I had to make a decision that would affect the rest of my adult life when I was seventeen. (As in "major in a subject that will prepare you perfectly for the rest of your professional life".) Yes, I went to college when I was seventeen, and felt weighed down in having to make the right academic moves to set myself up well for the real world.

I reiterate: I was seventeen.  A mature, head-on-her-shoulders, driven seventeen-year-old, but a seventeen-year-old nonetheless.

I was also the type of seventeen-year-old that made choices and saw them through. While I believe that this is a good quality to have, I believe that my stick-to-it attitude has gotten in the way of listening to my gut and staying true to my values.

Both of which—my gut and my values—have changed since. Because that’s what happens: you grow, and you change. And that’s what we were lied to about.

Nobody let us in on the secret that we would graduate and not have it all figured out after college, or even in the years to follow. Nobody told us that our hearts, relationships and identities would change as we got older. Instead, this is what we were told: make a plan, stick to your goals, and everything, eventually, will come.

But what happens when your plans change? When your goals are completely different from what they were just a year ago?

Something beautiful. That’s what happens. Because here we are, in a decade known for changing, for developing (though still, why didn’t they tell that to us before we got here?). So although we didn’t necessarily expect the change, here we are.

I am not bitter about the lie, about being ill-prepared for adulthood. And actually, I think that I was prepared for it as well as possible. It just wasn’t enough, but purely because it couldn’t be enough. The proper preparation, the understanding, the getting a grip, all comes from one thing: experience.

And in this time of gaining experience, of living a life independent of everything we once knew, we can no longer point fingers.  We can no longer blame the lie we were told about how life would be. Instead, we have to embrace everything that is happening. We have to experience life. Most of all, more than anything, we have to stay true to ourselves.

No more comparing our lives now to where we thought they would be when planning five or ten years ago. No more comparing our careers or our relationships to those around us. No more comparing our hectic situations to the seemingly normal situations that others are in. No more comparing. There is no normal. There is only life, and one thing to do with it. Live. Live your own life, wherever or whatever that may mean.

finding happiness in the moment

Happiness. One might say that, in my family, it is more a privilege than a right. It doesn't always come naturally to us, being happy. But trying does.

We are a family of artists and musicians and scientists and poets. The natural edge of depression carves our creativity. It makes us sharp. It makes us try.

So that's how I grew up; creative, mostly. And always looking for happiness. At first I found it in painting, in making music, in listening to music, in writing stories. And then I found it in books, in movies, in characters. Happiness eventually came in the form of others, in friendships with peers, relationships with family, kindred spirits in animals. And then happiness came from being in love. After many years of trying, after many years of looking, I found happiness everywhere.

The past few years have been the happiest of my life.

I will never take happiness for granted. So when it meets me in art, in people, in animals, and in moments, I soak it up.

This afternoon, on the tail end of a lovely weekend spent with my sister, a weekend filled relaxing and exploring and discussing creative ideas, I took my Labrador Mollie for a short walk. Mollie finds happiness in everything, as most Labradors do. Her tail wags with every step, with every new person she walks by, with every flower she pauses to sniff. Mollie is the best teacher in finding happiness in small moments.

We walked up to Cottage Row, a square of historic cottages along one of San Francisco's Mini Parks (yes, San Francisco has such a thing called Mini Parks). True to taking in every moment, Mollie stopped every two inches to sniff flowers and plants and, I'm sure, less pleasant things. At one point, she even climbed fully into a plant to get a better scent. I pulled on her leash to keep walking, and she pulled back with all of her body weight to keep sniffing. I sighed and gave up.

In that moment of giving up, I decided to look around me. To listen around me. In that moment of giving up, I found pure, unadulterated happiness. The world stopped for a few seconds, was silent for a few seconds. And then a church bell started ringing in the distance. Birds sang and fluttered through the leaves above us. A water fountain trickled in a nearby backyard. The sky was bright blue and white light filtered through the big green leaves of the Mini Park's garden. And I was there, surrounded by all of this beauty, breathing and standing. Healthy, able, whole, and happy.

I will never take happiness for granted. And if I do, I'm sure this four-legged one will stop to remind me. Because, if it is not always within us, happiness most certainly is all around us.

2014: The Year of Re

As a child, I was never allowed to compare my performance to anybody else's. It was one of my father's rules: always do your personal best. It didn't matter if the teacher was difficult, or if the majority of the class was failing, or if the other kids didn't have to practice music X hours a week, or if everybody else was going to skip school that day. The teacher, majority, other kids, and everybody else did not matter. I mattered. It was my life, my output.

Good lesson, dad.

Now, it's hard to go through life without comparing yourself to anyone at all, without pining after something (career, love life, family, money, car, etc.) someone else has. Envy wouldn't be one of the seven deadly sins if it wasn't a key human trait. But what I've come to find is that, as I get older, envy has less and less presence in my life. I am starting to finally feel like a whole person, 100% unique. In that wholeness, I look less to others in comparison. In that wholeness, I look more to me.

Generally, I am quite cynical when it comes to New Year's resolutions. I believe that many people set unrealistic goals for themselves. I believe that the majority of resolutions are made purely because that's what everybody else is doing. And because I strive to step away from what everybody else is doing, I tend to not make a New Year's resolution. Being the natural goal-setter that I am, though, this is not always easy.

I did not enter 2014 with celebration or excitement. As I was recovering from a stomach bug and on-going head cold and in the middle of a trip to Pasadena for the Rose Bowl (go Green!), I tucked myself into bed on New Year's Eve at a sweet 10:30 p.m. I did not reflect over all of 2013, I did not dream of all that was to come in the New Year. Instead I willed myself to sleep and tried to ignore the fact that I had to wake up at 5:00 a.m. the following morning.

New Year's Day was full of football and traveling. As I attended Rose Bowl and Michigan State, my Alma matter, brought home the win, it was a good day. But, to say the least, it was a tiring day. Since I've returned from Pasadena I've made a point of resting my mind and body, giving both time to repair. In this repair mode, I have had quite a lot of time to think.

I thought about 2013 - it really was a wonderful year, full of traveling, reuniting with family, self-discovery, and making dreams come true. It was a year of doing. A year of living.

2013 gave me a lot to be thankful for.

After happily reflecting on all of my adventures, growth and full living in the past year, I started turning gears into looking toward what I wanted 2014 to bring. As I mentioned earlier, I typically do not make a New Year's resolution. This year is no different--I have no concrete determination to bring anything particular into light. I am, however, entering this year with intention.

I intend 2014 to be the year of "re". I have spent the past 25 years building myself, tailoring my life to my liking. I understand that growing and change are on-going, but for now, for this upcoming year, I am going to stand still. I am going to take what I have to strengthen who I am and what I want, through the process of re.

After taking a break over the holidays, I am currently refocusing on what it is exactly that I want in life. I am restructuring my priorities, giving precedence to the top of the list. With that, I am re-branding myself, professionally and personally. More so professionally, because I am rebuilding my career. Personally...well you'll just have to wait and see. I am going to take everything that I already have, and repurpose it into something better.

I am going to take everything that I already have and repurpose it into something better.

Through refocusing, restructuring, rebranding, rebuilding, and repurposing, 2014 is going to be a year of personal bests.

Because it's my life, my output. My year of living with intention.