A week later

4//8/2012 A week later. Smoothies. Juices. Salads. Cultured almond milk. Oatmeal. Quinoa. That’s what I can digest. Has that stopped me from cooking? Nope. Things I have made to share with the sangha: Banana-chocolate-walnut bread; Cranberry-pistachio-chocolate biscotti; Focaccia bread; Low-gluten spelt bread; Apple bread; Pierogi stuffed with peas, carrots, broccoli, cauliflower, onion, squash; Hummus; Baked scarlet runner beans in brown sugar and vinegar; Granola. Simply, I’m obsessed with food. I’m kind of annoyed that I can’t even digest brown rice; It goes right through, a gopher in a landscape. But there’s avocado and bananas and fresh greens from the garden and, even papaya and oranges coming in from the trees. I’m getting what I need. Weighed in at 121 this morning for a 6 pound weight gain in 7 days. I’d expected it to come back a bit faster, water-weight and all, but it looks like its just gonna take some time. The first four days was a constant blur of preparing juices and smoothies and salads, eating all of the time – and toilet time. Unrelated to food… I took this last week off from meditating and despite the absence of ritual, I feel calm, serene, and present. Saying my prayers at least once a day, usually in the morning, makes me feel connected with the divine and reminds me to give all to all throughout my day, unattached to outcome, merely being open for giving. I still haven’t reached out to my friends, enjoying the community I’m in, the lack of crowding, the positivity, the high vibration of living off the land (with a trip to Costco), and the stillness of the nights interrupted by feral cats fighting for territory in the nearby cane-grass, but it’s getting to be time. I miss them, the familiar sounds of their laughter, the mischievous looks in their eyes when they tease me and each other, their warm, accepting love. Soon. And the tree. I miss the wind that rustles the leaves, the television-static sound of rainfall, birds hustling from branch to branch under the canopy that sing so brilliantly, the wafting smell of flowers, the thundering sound of waves crashing against the landing. Sometimes, most particularly in the evening as the sky turns lavender in color, I gaze past the mango tree and let my mind just stop, breathing mindfully as I recapture the peaceful feeling that was my companion for the last three weeks of my stationary journey, and I feel into the universe for the connection that never seems at all far away.