Balanced Living

Why I Hate Gratitude

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Yes, I am probably the one person in the world who runs away from the gratitude bandwagon.

Gratitude is very in right now. 

In religion, being grateful is the foundation for everything else: gratitude for salvation, for life, for blessings, for suffering which could be worse. For the good things you enjoy unearned.

In spirituality, being grateful is supposed to raise your vibration, attract what you want to manifest, and make you a happier person.

I just can’t get away from it. Everywhere I turn, someone is admonishing me to be grateful.

This is why talk of gratitude makes me run: 

When I was growing up, “gratitude” was used to shut me up when it came to abuse.

I actually “had it good.” My stepfather was short with me because I “had a ride on the gravy train” while he didn’t get to see his own kids as often as he wanted. Things could “always be worse.” And then they’d paint a horrific picture of slave children in prisons (also known as kids whose parents didn’t love or discipline them and who sent them to–shudder–public school).

As a teenager, I was expected to take change of my own education and co-parent my five younger siblings. I was lucky to see people outside of my family once or twice a week (literally–we lived in the country and saw other people at church or grocery shopping).

I didn’t know anything about depression, abuse, or cults. I just knew that I wasn’t okay. I was told that my feelings were just irrational teenage hormones like everyone endures, and that I should keep a gratitude journal.

Yes. Isolated, depressed, brainwashed and taking on age-inappropriate responsibility, and the solution was “think of three things every day that you’re grateful for.”

Fuck that shit.

Someone once said that using the reward system with our clients (gold stars, ice cream outings) is the same concept as us getting paid for our jobs. Our paycheck, she said, is our reward. I most emphatically disagree with that. I’m not getting rewarded for a task; I’m being recompensed for expended energy. I shouldn’t have to be grateful that someone is paying me in exchange for the energy and value I’m bringing.

My promise to myself is that I will always allow myself to be honest with my feelings, whether they are positive or negative. What I have to offer is worth something. Fuck pretending. Fuck conjuring up positive emotions for shades of shitty experience. And fuck this idea that I deserve nothing and should be grateful to get anything.

Not focusing on “gratitude” doesn’t mean that I want to be Eeyore. I would love to be a sunny, positive person. So I’m trying out “appreciation.”

Appreciation is an acknowledgement of the thing or person, a thanking or recognition of their effort, contribution, or presence. Appreciation is on the same level, neither coming from a position of lower-ness and supplication or from arrogance. Appreciation says “we are the same, and just as I sometimes contribute to you, now you are contributing to me.” It acknowledges balance and cycles.

Gratitude is unbalanced. It says “I deserve nothing so whatever I get must be a treasure.” It says “regardless of what I actually need or how useful this is, I must accept what I am given with thanks.” It says “esteeming this situation is more important than my feelings.”

I am Done with gratitude. I deserve to be treated with respect. And good things deserve to be appreciated.

Anyone else have thoughts on gratitude?

Vegan 101

Reasons to Go Plant-Based: #1

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These reasons are not in any order of importance, and they don’t capture all of the many reasons someone might go plant-based/vegan. They are just broad categories I’ve noticed in myself and the people around me.

Health

Many people suggest that going plant-based or becoming vegan can promote energy, clear up chronic complaints, and cure illnesses. These people are more likely to focus on finding organic, clean, non-processed food without artificial additives, colors, and preservatives. They are also likely to be passionate about keeping GMOs out of their food.

Type 2 diabetes can be treated or prevented with diet. We know this; it’s why doctors tell prediabetics to change their diets and focus on exercise. I don’t know about you, but I have seen too many relatives whose lives are never the same after diabetes. That is not the way I want to go.

Most of the top causes of death are preventable through changing your food choices. This video is so good. Watch it all the way through. It’s worth it.

Here are 57 Health Benefits of Going Vegan. I like that they noted “Body Odor: Eliminating dairy and red meat from the diet significantly reduces body odor. Going vegan means smelling better.” I can attest to that! 🙂

Some stories reported by vegans of health improvements.

Acne, sleep, and other improvements: Vegan Secrets (Or Why My Skin Is Always Glowing)

An article from the American Journal of Clinical Nutrition on the advantages and drawbacks, nutritionally, of going vegan. Very technical and cautious, but positive. “Vegans generally have an adequate iron intake and do not experience anemia more frequently than others. Typically, vegans can avoid nutritional problems if appropriate food choices are made. Their health status appears to be at least as good as other vegetarians, such as lactoovovegetarians.”

Switching to a plant-based diet for health reasons is an excellent choice. Who else is going to be out there experiencing life for you if you’re too lethargic to get off the couch or sick with something preventable at an early age? You owe it to yourself to take care of the only vessel you’re going to get this time around.

Life

So…

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I kinda binge on things. Favorite recipes, TV shows, working out. If I get into a routine, I cling to it like nothing else. I have to finish the book I’m reading. I can’t stop knitting. It may be 1am but there are still funny pictures on Pinterest…

When I stop, I stop. I’ll eat salads every day for eight months and wake up one day feeling nauseated at the thought…and I won’t touch lettuce for a year.

Apparently, this is also how I blog.

Not the part where I get nauseated. The part where I binge and then ignore. Obviously.

I’ve been going through what I call “composting,” where I let my life and thoughts stew for a while to see what crazy awesome things spring forth. And some crazy awesome things have popped out! I’m excited to get started.

Some of my biggest passions, tea and vegan food, are going to become a beautiful new focus in my life. I can’t wait to share this stuff with you!

Just don’t count on me to blog consistently. ‘Cause that probably will never happen.

Vegan Cooking

A Game-Changer

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One thing I have been quietly disappointed over is vegan milk.

It just isn’t milky enough.

And in order to get anything close to a good milk for tea or coffee, I have to buy the stuff with additives and thickeners, which is just not my speed. I’ve been making my own for several months now. (Here is a great article about the differences in non-dairy milks and how best to use them.)

But this just means that I take my tea black…or green, because that at least tastes like it’s not meant to have milk in it. (Cue subtle pout from Tea Girl over here.)

But all of that has changed. Birds sing louder. The sun shines brighter. Days are longer. (And not soley due to Daylight Savings.)

I present to you:

Delicious Non-Dairy Creamer Without Crap In It

  • 1 cup cashews
  • 3 cups water
  • 1/2 cup coconut cream

Soak the cashews overnight. Drain. Add the cashews to 3 cups of water in the blender and process for 2-3 minutes. 

 

 You’ll want them to whir until the nuts are quite pulped.

  

Strain the solids from the liquid by pouring it through a fine mesh strainer or several layers of cheesecloth. You may need to strain a second time if you have gritty particles sinking to the bottom of your cashew milk. (I highly recommend the second straining.)

  

Save the nut pulp for something awesome like adding to homemade bread dough or making these delicious, easy crackers!

To get coconut cream, leave a can of full-fat coconut milk in the fridge for several hours. Carefully open it and spoon out the solid fatty part that rises to the top. Pour the liquid bit out to save for something else later. (The cans are usually about 1/3 to 1/2 cream.)

  

Rinse the blender out and return the cashew milk to it, along with the coconut cream. Blend on high for several minutes. 

There you have it! A stable, non-separating, rich and creamy, neutral-tasting, additive free, non-dairy milk!

  

Many people are allergic to almonds and soy, two common bases for non-dairy milks. Cashews are less likely to cause a problem, which is why I went with them. Feel free to use your nut/seed/grain of choice. I would avoid using oats because of the flavor and starchy sediment.

Balanced Living, Life

On Being The One

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A few months ago I was talking about my life with a friend and she said, “It’s because you are The One in your family. Every family has The One.”

To be The One means you can be relied on to do the responsible thing. You’re there to support the family when they need it. Even if they deny needing your help, deep down, the family knows they can turn to you when things get rough.

There are fewer supports and more needs in my family right now. My grandfather claims he’ll either die this year or last until 2025. He has no one left. I am his One.

Most of my siblings are adults and have created a support system which works for them. None of them are particularly interested in taking care of our younger brother who has Down Syndrome–with good reason. They don’t have the stability or resources. But the question everyone has been asking, now that mom is dead and dad has to be the emotional, practical, AND financial support of the family, is what is going to happen with J? What will his future look like? Will he live in a group home? Will he live with one of us? No one can answer that one in the affirmative. But everyone has assumed that a large part of that solution will involve me.

I love knowing that I can be of foundational help in my family. I felt deep satisfaction when the pastor approached me at mom’s memorial because I was the organizer. Being in my job, working with developmentally disabled adults, and knowing all that info will be used to make my brother’s life better someday is sometimes the one light.

But what happens when The One is only recognized when everything is in chaos? What happens when The One’s advice is routinely disregarded…until she is called in to fix the clusterfuck?

This is my dilemma. I don’t want to turn my back on my family’s needs. But I can’t be The One and be true to myself, either.

Life

What Legacy Is Left

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When my grandmother died two years ago, I began to formulate a theory about the roles we hold in our families and communities.

My grandmother was always the one to socialize, throw parties, connect the family, and try every new hands-on craft she came across.

(Seriously, she sold handmade candy, knit, crochet, sewed, painted in oils, acrylics, and water colors, gardened, took piano lessons in her 70’s, canned famously horrible relish every year…)

The older she got and the less she remembered as Alzheimer’s took her mind, the more I found myself doing things like making truffles and trying new knitting projects. Mom took over the family connection role. After Grandma passed away, I had a burning desire to own a lemon tree. Her original lemon tree is just across town where my grandfather and his gardener take care of it, but I needed one of my own.

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(I think her name is Callie.)

My grandmother was also a bit of an amateur actress. Later that year I found myself accidentally acting in a children’s play for the first time in my adult life.

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When my mom’s health was getting worse last fall, I realized that she was the one connecting all of us to all of our relatives and I went on a frantic Facebook search to connect with them myself. It was almost uncontrollable, as if those connections would forever be lost if I didn’t locate them before she died. (The prosaic practicality of the family address book did not occur to me.)

Mom would lose her voice for weeks anytime she got a cold. Minor cold? Major laryngitis. Only one in the family. She had to use a bell to get people’s attention and couldn’t talk on the phone. In the last month, since Mom died, my sister and I both got minor colds which have affected our voices (although not to the same extreme as mom’s).

So I wonder, when people die, what happens in the people who are left? Naturally, we move to fill the vacuum. Someone else steps up to be the family historian. Someone waits in the wings for her turn to be the matriarch. When the family comedian leaves, another family clown, thankfully, takes their place.

But what about specific things? What about lemons? What about laryngitis? Are there things which float about in the world we can catch when they are released by the death of someone close to us?

I had a visit with a friend last week. She brought me an African violet.

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African violets were my mom’s favorite. I can’t remember a time when she didn’t have at least one growing in the window.

It was just a bit uncanny to receive one of my own.

One Word

On the Difficulty of Being

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Sometimes I get upset with myself for

Not returning friends’ phone calls
Having a huge pile of mending
Leaving the dry laundry on the drying rack for days
Neglecting to vacuum
Leaving short stories unfinished
Slacking off at the gym
Taking weeks to send packages
Letting dust and unanswered emails pile up

And then I remind myself that my word is Be, not Do.

I got antsy at my Friday class one week, feeling less connected, inspired, and transcendent than I wanted to be. I caught myself making a list of all the “more important” things I could be doing based on the return on time investment I thought I was getting. I could be reading important books, cooking or juicing, practicing Spanish.

It wasn’t until I stopped and settled into the “Be”, with a conscious disregard for the “best use of my time”, that I began getting everything from that class that I wanted to.

“Being” is everything. I forget this.

Balanced Living

The Pursuit of Happiness

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We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness.

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Recently I was describing my spiritual journey to a friend. “I just feel so happy,” I said. And she replied that the point of life is not to be happy.

I pondered that for a while. I am still pondering it.

The point of life is, indeed, not to merely be happy. But “happy” is such a shallow word anyway.

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“Happy” is just one small component of one’s emotional and mental state.

I can feel happy, energized, proud, pleased, and satisfied after a workout.

I can feel happy, connected, pampered and nurtured while having chocolate with a friend.

I can feel balanced, calmed, happy, and peaceful after meditation.

I can feel anticipation, happiness, excitement, and comfort in finally sitting down to see a long-awaited movie.

Saying I feel “happy” is a shortcut which cuts a lot of the nuance out of things. It streamlines our communication.

(I hesitate to even bring the word “joy” into the conversation. Ask any person raised in conservative Christianity or the Quiverfull lifestyle and they will be able to rattle off that:

You can be joyful without being happy

and

“JOY” stands for “Jesus, Others, then You”

…and then, if they are me, they’ll go into a trigger-induced meltdown about how they believed that if they were still physically able, then they were obligated to sacrifice for others–to the point they were volunteering at church as a Special Needs Buddy while working not one but three caregiving jobs and feeling angry that the church was pushing volunteer work in the community because THEY JUST COULDN’T GIVE ANY MORE.

So let’s put the word “joy” in a pretty box and shelve it for a while, shall we?)

I have tried to sort through my emotions and feelings in this last year, as I have experienced so many swirling through me at the same time.

I bought a car and felt safe, proud, relieved, and virtuous (as it was worlds more efficient than my old car).

I went to the gym and felt aligned, healthy, clear-headed, drained of negative emotions, and invigorated.

I went to an alternative practitioner and felt guided, affirmed, light, peaceful, and content.

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During stressful weeks I felt tense, dense, rushed, grumpy, sad, angry, and like a failure. At the same time I usually felt like a warrior still standing as the battle subsided and the enemy pulled back to regroup. I felt like wresting triumph from the clutches of negativity.

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I don’t think that “happy”, the emotion you feel when you get a sugar rush on a Butterfinger, is worth chasing after. It fades. It’s entirely based on external agents. And really, it’s not the sort of happy you’re likely to remember for very long.

But “happy”, as a shortcut for everything else that is too complicated to explain in a short conversation, is the meaning of life.

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I’m happy. I feel aligned with the principles I hold and know that I am aligning with principles I want to uphold.

I’m happy. I have spent my time doing something worthwhile, whether anyone else knows it or not. I have contributed in some way to building a better world for myself. Creating art or engaging in philanthropy, it’s all the same.

I’m happy. I am not stewing in negative emotions. I am either removed from negativity or I choose to focus on positivity. I see reality but do not allow reality to affect me negatively.

I’m happy. I am investing in things which last: connections with others or ways to boost my ability to maintain those connections. Tea with friends and time alone both count.

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I am happy. I am at peace. I am content. I give and receive love. I follow my heart, using my mind as a compass.

I am happy. It is all, and it is enough.

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A Year of Moving Toward Natural Living