Authenticity Resonates Well

The Swell Season just played at the Paramount this evening. My insides are still spinning. This is the second concert I have seen this week and this one, hands down, blew the other one out of the water, and I love the other band, I’ve seen them at the Triple Door three years in a row! There was something so Authentic about these two. Glen told stories that gave context to many of his songs. They had us sing along. They met a girl singing on the streets of Seattle today and asked her to play at their concert tonight… so she did!!!  He honored the Clancy Brothers, The Frames (his band before the Swell Season), a woman in an elevator with a blue coat, the woman up in the third tier who “opened up” to him and the entire audience, and he honored us, his audience… each with a song. He played one of his songs as he stepped away from all the mics… and the place was silent, you could have heard a pin drop. The Van Morrison song he played, made me nearly float, it was so amazing. The man can play a guitar!!! He broke strings on 3 guitars before the song was over!!! He told stories of real people in a way that you knew he valued them, not just the story he was telling about them. All of that was bonus… because then, they played their sweet music…. and all was well within me. …and did I mention the 6-song encore???? There is something so nice about seeing someone be who they are instead of putting on a show.

Right Place at Just the Right Light

Sometimes I walk by something at just the right time. But rarely do I actually have my camera with me! My sister and nephew were in town and we were exploring downtown when we walked by this beautiful site. The sun was shining on this psychedelic building and it cast a beautiful reflection that is hard to put your finger on what exactly is the source of light or reflection. Can you guess what building it is??? The colors are saturating.

Mushrooms: From My Lawn To My Tummy

Yesterday, I had a less than desireable day. While driving home, I decided to mow the lawn when I got home, to take my mind off things. I finished mowing and was workin’ the weed eater when along comes a lady walking by. She asked me if she could cut the mushrooms from my front lawn. Well, that intrigued me, of course. My curiosity got the best of me as per usual, and I had plenty of studying to procrastinate from, so I engaged her and asked her to tell me all about the mushrooms, and how she knew they were edible. She mentioned she was from Russia and she grew up knowing about mushrooms, and that Americans are so out of touch with nature. She said this kindly, but matter-of-factly, and I agreed with her!  So, we knelt down on the grass and I got my first mushroom lesson. She taught me how to cut them, wash them… and how to cook them. Then she looked at me and said, “now you probably want to keep them.” And she was right… now I wanted to keep them, cook them and eat them… so I offered to split them with her… She gave me her phone number and told me to call her and tell her how they were. When we got up from the grass, I realized that she had made my day and I felt so much better. I shared that with her and… turns out that she had had a rotten day too, and now felt much better. Such a beautiful thing when we stop to interact with one another. I was touched by her sharing a part of life with me, and she was touched by someone being interested. It was a mutually beautiful thing.

So… tonight, I cut, cleaned and cooked the mushrooms, exactly how she had taught me… and they were delicious!!!

French Pressed Life

This is my house-mate’s French Press, but I use it every day, I’m hooked. In order to get a great cup of coffee, there are steps that I willingly and gladly take. Hands down, there is no comparison between what emerges from the french press and a lesser cup brewed in a maker. By far, better than that ridiculous new little gadget that my friend, Josh, uses. (Josh, I know you know this…. deep down )  Recently, there has been a struggle between myself and the french press. Seemingly, I just want to press too quickly. Inevitably, I spew forth the brown, liquidy goodness all over the counter or worse… all over ME! Breathing, slowly breathing, helps me through the process. For the past two mornings, I’ve had a kickin’, almost perfect cuppa joe… and the key is: don’t rush, breathe, take it slowly, focus, enjoy the few minutes that I just get to stand there, still, and wait… That… is what gives the best results. Rushing just spews what could be good… all over the place, and frustrates the heck out of me… Life is the same way. If I want a great cup of coffee, it takes time… if I want the beauty to emerge… it takes time.

About to Bloom…

I haven’t posted forever. I am beginning to realize how non-present I have been for at least the past year, and yet in many ways much longer than that as well. I feel, however, that I am about to bloom, blossom into the woman I have always wanted to be. I look at this picture of a cyclamen on my front porch that is just about to bloom and it resonates with me. Today was a day filled with beauty, and then class tonight hurt so badly I just needed to scream. I bet it’s painful to be birthed from a seed to a sprout, to leaves and eventually a flower. I am feeling that pain and at the same time, I know there is beauty about to be birthed forth. It is not a beauty I am unfamiliar with, because it is a part of me. It’s just been buried for so long. I wonder what color flower I will be, what shape, what form, what intensity… as portions of me open up that have been a long time hidden or uncared for, I experience a breath of fresh air, and pain right alongside the breath. I’m angry, I’m sad, I love, I hate, I rejoice and I scream, I dance, I sing and somedays I don’t know what to do… but it feels good to get to know myself without all the masks. I’m learning to breathe and sit with all of me, not just the happy parts.