Enchantment Learning & Living Blog

Welcome to Enchantment Learning & Living, the inspirational space where I write about the simple pleasures, radical self-care, and everyday magic that make life delicious.

On Watching the Birds in Your Bird Feeder

May 4, 2014

It is a quiet afternoon. You've given yourself over to reading on your patio, your only company the birds--sparrows, finches, doves--swooping in and out of your bird feeders.

They used to be shy creatures, forever dissuaded from your patio by the cats with the hungry eyes in the patio above yours. You courted them night and day with bird seed and three homemade feeders you crafted out of small colorful colanders and fishing wire. You wanted to thank those birds for their songs, their morning chatter that serves as your natural alarm clock. Finally, after hanging your feeders beneath your herbs--as far away from those cats as possible--and filling them up with thick, black sunflower seeds, you find the little birds at home on your patio.

You pause momentarily, lifting your head from your book to enjoy the quiet spring afternoon. And then a red-breasted finch swoops into the turquoise feeder closer to you, swaying gently in time with the rocking of the feeder. It eyes you as if afraid you might chase it away or take its seeds. It is fast and efficient, cracking the thick sunflower shells and gobbling their flesh in gluttonous delight. Another bird flies toward the same feeder, this one a dusty brown but just as small as the finch splashed with red--its mate, perhaps. You keep still; you don't want the flutter of a turned page to frighten off your friends. They are so much more graceful than the pigeons and doves that swoop into the feeders as big as they are, forcing the metal colanders to clack and cling against your patio railing. No, these little finches nibble and sway in time with the feeders.

Without thinking about it, you set your book down. With that one swift movement, you startle the finches and they take off with a quick flap of their wings, nothing but spent sunflower shells scattering in their wake.

Enchantment Learning & Living is an inspirational blog celebrating life’s simple pleasures, everyday mysticism, and delectable recipes that are guaranteed to stir the kitchen witch in you. If you enjoyed what you just read and believe that true magic is in the everyday, subscribe to my newsletter below for regular doses of enchantment. Want even more inspiration? Follow me on Instagram, Facebook, Pinterest, and Twitter. Here’s to a magical life!

On Cleaning Your Home

May 3, 2014

It becomes a meditation on your life, never just about wiping off the dust from your writing table or sweeping away the cobwebs on your patio. It is about sweeping off those same cobwebs from your mind, clearing away the debris from the week, ironing out the wrinkles in your thoughts as you iron them out of the flouncy dresses you so love to wear.

You use your baking soda to scrub away bad thoughts and any mildew on your shower wall; your homemade vinegar spray kills the germs in your kitchen and bathroom as its sharp scent, mixed with lavender, clears the head. Your vacuum sucks up the dirt and stress that your shoes have dragged in, leaving behind only tranquility and fresh air.

As you clean, as you tend to your things, your home, you remove all doubt from your mind, cast away anything that does not actively nourish you, fill your spirit with light and well-being. You create your sanctuary, a reflection of the life you choose to lead, free of dirt stuck in corners and grunge in the mind.

You fill your space with light, with warmth, with clean thinking and clean air. You know your home is a living breathing thing that does not flourish unless well-tended. Together you nourish each other, creating a life worth living.

On Being Out in the City Early

May 2, 2014

The air is still crisp. The morning quiet.

The dawn was greeted by yoga and plant-tending before you head out to an early morning meeting. You cruise down the hushed streets--one part a half-awake bustle to get to work, another sleepy-almost-the-weekend energy. Country music plays softly on the radio, punctuated by spurts of local news. You cruise past the railroad tracks downtown into the oldest part of the city. Your way is paved by adobes and the bright colors of a city not afraid of its own loudness.

You find yourself early for a breakfast meeting--happily next to your favorite bakery. You cross the street, already anticipating the homey comfort of this little shop almost as old as the city itself--there are others yes, but only one real panaderia. The smell of freshly baked bread greets you as you walk through the door. You are seduced by the rows of fresh loaves and empanadas stacked one on top of the other.

What a morning! What a treat to have some spare moments to get fresh bread for your morning toast. What a treat to have some time for a cappuccino. What a treat to be out in the city before anyone but you and the bakery is entirely awake. You order a multigrain loaf and your drink, then decide to splurge on a cherry empanada for later.

Outside, you settle into a patio chair and savor your fancy coffee, feeling almost as if you are back in Venice, savoring a morning cappuccino before the day sweeps you up in a flurry of art viewing and sightseeing. You enjoy the caress of the cool morning air on your skin, the soft chatter of birds and one or two other customers. As you finish your drink, you watch the city shake off the last of its sleepiness just as you shake off yours.

Bathe Like an Egyptian Bath

May 1, 2014

Legend has it that Cleopatra used to bathe in milk and honey--the perfect recipe for soft, hydrated skin. Naturally, I thought of this as the perfect antidote to the dry skin the change of seasons can bring on. It feels purely decadent to soak in this rich liquid and your skin feels incredible afterward. The lactic acid in the milk gently exfoliates your skin, while the honey helps it retain moisture and acts as an anti-inflammatory agent. I recommend full-fat milk since it is mega-nourishing for your skin--so save the two percent for drinking. Organic is also a must--who wants anything treated with unnatural things on their skin? Plan to take some time in the bath: grab a good book, drink a cup of chamomile tea, and feel as pampered as an Egyptian queen! And feel free to imagine scantily clad buff servants fanning you with big palm leaves as you soak.

Ingredients:

2 cups whole milk

1/2 cup honey

Favorite bubble bath (optional)

Pour milk and honey under running water. Make bath water hot but not too hot. Add bubbles if desired. Soak in bath for at least 30-45 minutes. For best results, exfoliate before bathing and slather on your favorite body butter after. Enjoy!

Note: be sure to clean your bath after so you don't leave traces of milk and honey in it.

Elizabeth Taylor as Cleopatra in the 1963 film by the same name. Bathing never looked so glamorous!

When Life Slows You Down

April 30, 2014

It starts with an unexpected errand or a long overdue checkup, then an afternoon at home moving your plants back outside after an unexpected frost forced them indoors.

You want to do this and that, zoom here and there because that is what you are used to doing. Now with your schedule opening up--only two more days of the semester left--you are tempted to keep adding to you day, filling up those extra hours until you are at your limit.

And the life stops you. You oversleep first, a gentle reminder of how tired you really are. Then you need to create space in your day for a checkup. Then your car, your trusty cruise-mobile, needs more TLC than you can take care of on your own, so phone calls are made, appointments penciled in, and you are required to slow down. The big pre-vacation plans go out the window in favor of slow days tending to yourself, your things, your life.

You are grateful for these reminders, these little stops put in place to help you unplug from unnecessarily busy living. You take your breather over your canteen of lemon water as you wait for your car to get polished up. You pause in the waiting room of the doctor's office to listen to your heart beat in a steady tattoo. You allow yourself the time it takes to move your plants in then out of the house.

Slowly, always slowly. There is nothing worth doing that isn't done slowly.

Chamomile Face Toner

April 29, 2014

Lately, I have been loving chamomile! It's gentle apple taste and nurturing properties have made it my go-to bedtime tea these past few weeks and I've even enjoyed using it as a steep for soothing bubble baths and beauty treats.

One of my all-time favorite chamomile beauty treats is the face toner I make out of brewing a strong cup of these little flowers. It treats puffiness, inflammation, and irritated skin, perfect for this time of year when the season change can wreak havoc on our skin--especially with all this dry, windy weather we've been having in Albuquerque! This toner is also great for sensitive skin; it simply soothes and heals, without drying or exposing your skin to harmful chemicals like mainstream toners. So if your face needs a little extra TLC, try this--it's super easy!

Ingredients:

1 heaping tablespoon chamomile

1 cup water

Bring water to a boil--pour into mug. Add chamomile and let steep for five minutes. Pour tea through a strainer and into a mason jar (keep the lid off for now). Allow to cool completely. Store in a mason jar in the fridge for up to one week. To use, simply dab a cotton ball in the tea toner and rub on a freshly washed face. This is gentle enough to use in the morning and again at night. Enjoy!

On Wrapping Up the End of the Semester

April 28, 2014

It is a sweet relief to see your to-do list slowly getting smaller; the things you cross off that list don't regenerate themselves but, for once, stay crossed off, the thick pencil line striking through them with a satisfying finality. Your desk begins to lose its stack of papers cluttering its surface. You can safely begin organizing old files--loose papers and ephemera from the beginning of the term--and tucking them away for the summer.

There are still things to do, yes. Grades to upload and final assignments to review. But your heart is light, brimming with the promise of summer. Even your morning tea tastes better, sweeter as if kissed by spring.

And while many would lament this final week of school--so many odds and ends to keep track of--you find that half the enjoyment of the week is in savoring the sweet anticipation of soon being able to stay up late reading; of being able to take those favored early morning walks; and of being able to focus on nothing more than mastering a new recipe or watching your plants grow. You look forward to trading in your teacher heels for sandals, buttoned-up uniforms for flouncy dresses.

It is enough to savor these upcoming pleasures--for now. Enough to make your workday move swiftly from one final to another. Enough to know that while you love your job, you are equally looking forward to time away from your desk, time to tend other parts of your life as you loving tend your fledgling plants. As you file away your last stray worksheet for the day, you realize that under the pile of handouts and papers is a lesson so simple you've almost overlooked it: those breaks are just as important as your hours of work, feeding your soul and replenishing you for the work that you do, for the life you create. It is the breath that sustains you, the promise of pleasure that uplifts you, the refreshment that inspires innovation.

Yes, your soul needs to breathe and you are ready to let it.

On An Unexpected Afternoon Tea

April 27, 2014

It was nothing fancy. You simply found yourself hungry around 3 o'clock. You hadn't had lunch--breakfast had been a long morning affair, keeping you full for quite some time--but you still didn't feel like a proper meal. No, it was too close to dinner time for that. A little something still would be desirable, a small treat to hold you over until dinner.

You coax yourself up from your perch on the patio, laying your reading aside with the promise of something to nibble on as you finish that next chapter. You rummage through the kitchen cupboard, finding nothing to inspire you--the sun dried tomatoes and canned marinated artichokes feel too much like an evening appetizer, the whole wheat crackers less than inviting. You turn to your refrigerator. Surely there is something there, between your drawers full of vegetables and your fruit neatly stacked on shelves. Some quick pickles perhaps? And they your eyes land on it: a cherry empanada from your favorite bakery. How could you have forgotten it?

A plan quickly forms in your mind and your heart skips a beat at this unexpected pleasure: afternoon tea on your patio. You heat hot water for your tea, deciding on an earthy hojicha, a roasted green tea, to balance out the sweetness of your pastry. You plate your little snack and let your tea steep in your favorite mica teapot. You take your afternoon tea things on a tray to the patio.

As you let your tea finish steeping, you return to your book, feeling not unlike Bilbo Baggins enjoying the comforts of your very own Bag End. You ease back in your chair, ready to enjoy your impromptu tea and the rest of your novel. The emapanada is sweet. The tea is strong. The afternoon is perfect.

On Things You Do to Unwind

April 26, 2014

The transition from the work of the semester to the expectation of summer at your doorstep is never as easy as it sounds--even as you plan to relax, your mind keeps going back to that one unfinished bit of grading, those future lesson plans you want to polish up, even going as far back as that one lecture that may or may not have come out right. Faster and faster your mind spins, almost afraid that if you were to leap off the merry-go-round of work, there would be nothing there to catch you.

But you've expected this, made plans, knowing full well how your mind likes to spin faster and faster if you don't take hold of it. So you do the things you do to unwind, reversing the movement, the shape of your brain from a tightly wound spool of thread to an ever-unfurling flower under the sun's caress.

First, you surround yourself with stories--old ones and new ones, movies and books, TV shows and poems. You saturate yourself in other worlds, from steampunk adventures to Nero Wolfe and Phryne Fisher's hedonistic mysteries to Rilke to sci-fi television. You let the stories of your school year fade as you breathe in other narratives of bigger worlds--a reminder that life is an abundance of experiences beyond filling out the grade sheet.

Then you cook--a lot. You decide it is high time to try a new recipe; you lose yourself in learning how to make zucchini fritters for dinner, enjoying the silky texture of shredded zucchini in your hands as you form the little cakes for frying. You play with your panna cotta recipe--the one you never quite got down, easy as it is. You toy with inventing a new cocktail.

Eventually, you lose track of time between your gentle yoga practice and tending your patio plants. You find yourself sitting on your patio watching the red-breasted finches eat fat black sunflower seeds from your bird feeders thinking only that a bubble bath would be nice. You have set aside your reading and your cup of green tea has long been finished. Your mind is pleasantly unfocused.

Without quite realizing it--between your afternoon reading on the porch or your wine with your bubble bath--you have bravely jumped off the spinning carnival ride of work and found firm ground beneath your feet. It was there all along. You only had to take the leap.

On the Dandelion

April 24, 2014

A weed.

The bane of the perfect lawn's existence, wantonly flinging its seeds wherever the wind will take them. Eternal survivor, oblivious to weed killer, lawn mower, calloused hands attempting to uproot it from the crack in the concrete. Never as beloved as the luscious rose nor the frail beauty of the orchid, yet worthy of its own song--a song praising its bounty, a song of healing and grounding.

This weed is more than a weed, kicked about and neglected, but such medicine under the right touch. The hands that would rip this flower from the ground, happy to banish it from her plot of earth, instead tenderly collect the leaves, the stems, the roots, the flowers--dries them, preserves them.

For she knows the potent magic of the dandelion, detoxing the seat of the soul, the liver. Flushing out stagnation and poison from the body, rooting the spirit once again to the earth, the ground, the seed that makes the dandelion. You steep your treasure in hot water and drink the healing potion, reveling in how the dandelion spreads through your body like its seeds spread through the city, finding each nook, each empty space and filling it up with its light.

But it does more. Once inside the body, it makes its way through the liver, to the heart, to the mind, to that soft space between and above your eyes. It opens you up, casting aside the glamours of this world in order to see beyond the trappings of the mundane and into life beyond the veil--past, present, future swirl at the bottom of a cup of dandelion tea.

And yet this healing collection of seeds, roots, and leaves, lives relegated to the role of weed--only revealing its magic to those who are willing to see past the limited glory of its finer looking cousins, only sharing its bounty with those ready to be nourished, to be healed.

On Synchronicity

April 23, 2014

It is the moment between thinking of moving in one direction and being stopped by a red light at the crosswalk. Don't go down that road. It is the ladybug that lands on your porch as you turn your thoughts to that new blog. Yes, it says. Yes. Go that way. It is the clock ticking in the middle of the night as you start awake from a nightmare (what is worth your time?), the clap of thunder that punctuates your revelations, the song that blares from your car radio when you key the ignition--there's no going back the lyrics roll out--just as you marvel at how your life is in the here and now.

It is everywhere and nowhere, an ephemeral thread, a wisp of silk that guides you if you know how to read the signs. The simple magic of listening to yourself and the world around you, without the condemning filters of over-thinking, feeling-numbing, self-critiquing. It is pure insight.

It is the roadrunner that greets you one morning as you head to your office before class. You pause to enjoy the beautiful morning, the way the mint green trees highlight the rich purple of the mountains, the turquoise sky a perfect backdrop to another day in the Land of Enchantment. A thought flits through your brain--an old, worn thought that has outlived its welcome. It has muscled its way in nonetheless, no doubt from the backdoor you left open from over-work the day before. It is a thought from a past self, a small shadow of doubt on an otherwise gorgeous day. A tiny dour question to your latest pop of inspiration.

And then the roadrunner crosses your path. It darts past you from bush to rock to dry brush as you make your way to your office, confusing evil spirits by its X-shaped feet--leaving them unable to tell in which direction you are moving, casting away darkness and welcoming light. All is well, it says. Follow the inspiration and all is well.

So you turn from that shadowy thought--it is irrelevant--and wrap your inspiration around you like a leather coat. You thank the roadrunner for his synchronous visit. You thank the world for sending this message. You thank yourself for listening.

5 Easy Tips for Greener Living

April 22, 2014

In honor of Earth Day, I'd like to offer a few easy tips I've developed over the years to become eco-friendlier. Typically when we think of going green, we conjure up images of having to buy really expensive organic goods (so not true!) or attempting to make drastic lifestyle changes all at once--an overwhelming task! In fact, there are many simple ways to be greener without dramatically changing your day to day routine. What matters is baby steps--simple changes make all the difference in the long run. As you get used to one change, you can throw in a new way to be eco-conscious.

1. Use what you have. Seriously, it sounds simple, but many people can be tempted to throw out perfectly good household items simply because they aren't green or organic. But where does the stuff that you throw out go? Landfills--and landfills equal frowny face.

2. Shop local. Less travel time for produce and other goods means less of a negative impact on the environment. This is also a great tip for supporting local business and get to know your community. Co-ops and farmers' markets are great places to start!

3. Make your own cleaning supplies. You don't have to shell out big bucks to green your home, even though most organic cleaning brands would have you think otherwise. Try whipping up a batch of this all-purpose cleaner for your basic cleaning needs. Also keep in mind that distilled vinegar and baking soda work wonders for cleaning and are both super cheap.

4. Recycle. It's worth the effort! Same goes for when you need to buy new things--opt for buying things at antique and secondhand stores. Not only are you buying one of a kind furniture and other goodies, but you are recycling in its most basic form.

5. Walk (or bike) where you can. The exercise is good for you and the environment. Now I can't really walk to work since it is on the other side of town. But when the weekend hits, I like to stick to my own neighborhood so I can walk everywhere--to the store, to the park, to a restaurant.

And always remember--if it's good for the earth, it's good for you!

On Wearing Pink

April 21, 2014

It is not the demure shade of pink that you want, that chaste blush that doesn't quite know what to do with itself, nor the muted rose that almost resists its pinkness. You don't even want the glitter pink of fairy princesses or the naked pink of nails that like to pretend they're not polished. No. You want that bright pop of bubble gum color, that hot zing of watermelon flesh, that pink worthy of its own dance number.

Spring begs for that color, that tart splash reminiscent of umbrella-adorned cocktails and the luminous glow of the sun setting over the mountains. You want the flirt of all colors--not the siren song of its cousin color red--but the bright, coquettish energy that's always ready for some fun.

You want the bold. You want the playful. You want that color that makes others do a double-take, the color that refuses to be watered down into a cheap pastel. No, this color won't be sanitized. And as you wear it, neither will you. It is a wearable invitation to be light and sassy, daring anyone to bat an eyelash at your splash of color. Yes, you want a color that refuses to be chaste, even as others might wish it were so if only to keep the faint blush from creeping up their necks and inflaming their cheeks--those fleshly stains barely concealed a desire for the promise of pink.

Yes, you want a pink that doesn't apologize.

Kay Thompson singing "Think Pink!" in the 1957 movie, Funny Face. — Kay Thompson singing "Think Pink!" in the 1957 movie, *Funny Face.*

On Watching Your Garden Grow

April 18, 2014

It has been almost a week since you have sown the seeds into your potted garden. Just a few short days since the last frost date has passed and you can now safely keep your tender plants outdoors.

Each day this week you greeted them with fresh water and little cooing noises as you encouraged those seeds to plant themselves firmly in the soil you provided for them. You fussed, too, over the larger plants--your herbs and tomatoes. You snipped cilantro for last night's blue corn quesadilla and rosemary for this morning's omelet. You rearranged your pots so your spinach and chard seeds could get more shade, and your mint gets all the sun it wants.

And then you see it, those tiny little heads poking up from the dirt: your radishes are sprouting. Your lettuces are making their way into the world. A zing runs up your spine. Those are your seeds, your plants, happily growing under your gentle care. You breathe in the scent of wet earth, the soft perfume of a spring morning, already anticipating the first peppery bite of your radishes, the first salad made from your greens.

You marvel at these earthly treasures, these capsules of self-care that open and grow with the right nourishment. You know you will not be able to stop yourself fussing over your plants throughout the day, checking those sprouting seed to see if they have grown just a little more, but for now, it is enough to see small radish leaves making their way through the dirt into the sun.

Hydrating Hair Mask

April 17, 2014

When I got home today, I was preparing for my yoga practice when I noticed how dry my hair was looking. After wearing my hair down--something I haven't done in a long time (I might have slept past my alarm clock today...), I realized how parched it looked and brittle it felt while trying to flip it into a sloppy bun.

I have long hair. Really long hair. And thick hair. Really thick hair. It doesn't take much to dry it out--especially during a dry, windy spring like we've just come out of. The trick to keeping my locks shiny, moisturized, and healthy is my honey and olive oil hair mask, which I promptly slathered all over my scalp post yoga. Both the honey and oil moisturize and nourish your hair.

You may need to play around with the quantity of the ingredients depending on your hair type. If you tend to have oily hair, put little to no oil in the mix (the honey adds moisture to your hair on its own). If you have damaged or super dry hair, you made need a little more oil. In either case, start with a little bit of this mask and then add more of either ingredient as needed--or opt for less oil the next time around. I've also swapped out the olive oil for coconut oil--bliss!

Ingredients:

1 tablespoon organic olive oil (or coconut oil) optional

4 tablespoons organic honey

Mix ingredients in a microwave safe bowl. Heat in microwave for 15 seconds or until warm (but not too hot!). Gently massage mask into wet hair, using a plastic comb (makes for easy cleaning) to distribute mask over hair evenly. Put more of the mask on the dry parts, like frizzy ends. Wrap your hair into a bun and let sit for 30-40 minutes--it's probably a good idea to do this hair treatment when you want to linger in the bubble bath. When done, rinse hair with your normal shampoo and conditioner routine and enjoy softer hair!

On Doing Yoga in the Laundry Room

April 16, 2014

The afternoon was one of house cleaning and grading papers--end of semester routines. You check your clock between one stack of essays and another and realize you have forgotten about your laundry. How long ago had you stuffed your clothes into the dryer? Surely they are done by now. Your bones at least are ready for a break from sitting, so you gather your laundry basket and make your way down to the laundry room.

You hear the industrious whirring of the dryer before you see your brightly colored clothes spinning in the machine. You'd miscalculated--there are five minutes left on the clock. By the time you get back upstairs, it will be time to turn back around and gather your clothes, so you are left with only one option: yoga in the laundry room

You look around and realize you are alone, save for rows of washing and drying machines. As the clock ticks down to four minutes until your clothes are in, you stretch your arms up high and swan dive down to touch your toes. You lift your rib cage and inhale, then lengthen down on the exhale. Three minutes left. You reach your whole body up again into mountain pose, firmly rooting yourself into the ground with each toe stretching to feel the floor beneath you.

You raise your arms over your head again, hands together, and carefully tilt to one side, then the other, into half-moon pose, luxuriating in the stretch along your rib cage. Two minutes to go. You arch your back, lifting your spine almost out of yourself as you extend, lengthen. One minute. You release your grip and then take one last swap dive to the ground. Lift and lengthen. Exhale and release forward. Ping. Laundry done.

You load your clothes and make your way back to your apartment, refreshed, revived--and ready for that next stack of papers.

On Daydreaming

April 14, 2014

Some call it a waste of time. They don't know any better.

They don't know that those stolen moments at work fantasizing about your upcoming trip abroad--museum hopping in Barcelona, fresh croissants to greet a Parisian morning--these ephemeral dreams are like fertile seeds planted in your mind. If you tend them long enough, they will eventually grow into fruition.

You remember looking at magazines as a child, marveling at the glossy pictures of exotic places, dreaming about what it would be like to taste genuine fish and chips or take a stroll by the River Seine. And now, now you are traveling. Those seed-dreams have been fed on a steady diet of rose-colored reveries and fertilized with hope. Now, now your daydreams have spun themselves into reality.

You marvel at this magic as you putter in your patio garden after work, struck again by another daydream made into a luscious reality. This one took years--countless hours of seemingly unending days dreaming, tending to those fantasies of being back in your desert land, with a home all your own, a garden bursting at the seams with herbs. A gentle life of teaching, writing, living. Yes, that dream took some time, but here it is in the waking world.

You have little patience for the non-dreamers and more than a little pity. For you know that this magic is real, those what-could-bes flitting around in your mind like delicate butterflies waiting for the moment to slip into this world and stretch their wings from sky to earth.

On Grounding and Gardening

April 13, 2014

The week had been one of transformation, skin shedding, disorientation. It is a relief to find the weekend upon you, two whole days of gardening stretched out before you.

You take comfort in the way the dirt feels between your fingers as you cast aside the little spade in favor of pushing loose soil around with your hands. The color of dark roast coffee beans, the dirt smells of rich wet earth and things growing. Even the little crystals of Epsom salt you stir into the soil ground you to the here and now; they are comforting reminders that, one seed at a time, you conjure new life firmly rooted in the present.

The sharp scent of rosemary already welcomes good energies into your home, while the light perfume of lemon balm promises the power of future healing tonics. You dig your hands deeper into the soil and gently tuck your oregano into its planter, making sure to surround it with plenty of life-giving dirt. Already you are thinking of the Sunday night pasta made more delicious because of this herb, or the Friday night pizza that was given an extra zip after you return from you patio garden with cuttings from this zesty herb.

With each plant that you settle into the safety of pots, you feel more firmly grounded, gently cradled by the loving embrace of the earth. The week's events that had made you feel disoriented, untethered to this world, have lost their sting and in their place is only the quiet industry of gardening, the soft breeze tickling the trees beyond your patio, and the mellow chatter of finches.

You look forward to the harvest of dark rose cherry tomatoes and Armenian cucumbers, even as you remind yourself to buy carrot seeds--because a tomato plant is nothing without a ring of carrot seeds to keep it company. Those two, they can never be apart for long.

Later, when all your plants are potted, and you linger over a glass of fresh lemonade on your patio, admiring your work, you realize that for two blissful days, you have not thought of the past, old ghosts, or what-might-have-beens. You simply tended to your potted garden. It is so obvious now. This careful act of tending these plants is what your life is all about. One small seed at a time, you lay the groundwork for present enjoyment and future harvest.

On Lingering Over a Cup of Coffee at a Cafe

April 12, 2014

It is your favorite cafe and the perfect morning to linger over a cup of rich coffee.

It is still cool out, but the day already hints at the warm afternoon to come. The mountains frame the city in the distance, and the blue sky is streaked with ribbons of cotton. It is a lazy day, meant for lingering over your morning brew and maybe later puttering in the garden. But for now, you are content to nurse that cup and just be.

The coffee is rich and thick--bold cowboy coffee that wakes your sleepy cells up and yet soothes at the same time. You half-heartedly flip through the local newspaper, finding yourself, as always, paying more attention to your weekly horoscope than any of the more in-depth articles.

Eventually, you abandoned your tentative hold on the paper in favor of people watching--the couple holding hands to the right of you, the old friends catching up over breakfast, the late-for-work take-out worker bees. All are part of the gentle hum of the morning, the sweet cacophony of daily living.

You take one last sip of your coffee, now only an almost-cooled puddle at the bottom of your cup. Your thoughts turn toward gardening, maybe even reading a novel on your patio, your plants and the sunshine your quiet companions. Yes, time to rejoin the rest of the world in their steady industry. As you slowly make your way to the exit, you can still taste the rich caramel of the coffee on your lips. You marvel at such a taste and the gentle promise of a slow day ahead of you.

On Dreaming Deeply

April 10, 2014

You are craving it: that deep sleep that makes you forget where and who you are, and yet brings you closer to yourself.

You welcome it with the arms of a lover as you crawl into bed, already claiming it as yours before the lamp light is out. You wait for it to take you, however impatiently, knowing full well that it will take the time it wants to take--at first courting you slowly and then upon you all at once, pulling you deeper into a realm beyond your own.

It is not the sleeping you love, so much as the dreaming. You long for the stories that unfold behind your eyelids and the parts of yourself to awaken that are too often submerged in a hazy half-sleep throughout the day.

Deeper still you go, to places with no names and languages beyond your scope in the here and now, but that are yours nonetheless--yours always, when you sneak beneath your covers and let sleep take you.

Yes, it is the dreaming you look forward to, so much so that it is a wonder your waking life is not its own dream meant to pass the hours, the minutes until you can once again be claimed by that other place, that other embrace.