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    Let There Be Vegan Kimchee

    ByElizabeth

    I was at Eastern Market earlier today.  As kimchee has been on my mind (given the recent and resounding success with homemade sauerkraut), I checked for napa cabbage and daikon radish.  I didn’t see it, but decided to ask anyway (after all, if we don’t ask for what we want, it is far less likely that we will get it–whether it is ingredients for kimchee, or help from a yoga teacher, or needs met in relationship).

    Yes, they had a gorgeous napa cabbage and a big, beautiful daikon radish.  They sell their own fresh made kimchee (it’s delicious), so I thought they might have the other key ingredient I needed:  powdered Korean hot pepper.

    I said that I enjoyed their kimchee and that I guessed they made it the traditional way, with a rice flour slurry and anchovies.

    Yes, indeed, they do it that way.

    I said I was making a simpler version, but did want the right kind of pepper.  Did they have some?

    The woman serving me, said yes, went in the back, cut open an enormous bag of powdered pepper and, along with the vegetables, sold me a few ounces of the pepper.  From this enterprise, I’ve  already made a deeper connection to one of my local small businesses, and in a week or two, I’ll also have a big batch of kimchee.

    ps.  I used Michael Pollan’s recipe as a rough guide.  What I like especially about the recipe is that it expects variation based on quality and age of produce and personal taste.  The cook is invited to pay attention instead of just follow by rote.

    kimchee ingredients

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    Spirituality and Politics Do Mix (but maybe not at the Thanksgiving meal)

    ByElizabeth

    Yesterday I received a rather negative email in response to my posting a suggestion on a list serve connected to a religious organization that people write to their elected officials about the health care bill pending in the Senate.  I sent the email because my contribution to this group is to serve as the designated liaison between a lobbying group that was established by the religious organization and the religious organization.  Once of month or so, I highlight issues that are the focus of the lobbying groups email campaigns.  The email took me to task for thinking that politics has any place in connection with spiritual practice and therefore the on-line discussion should never be about politics.  The person assured me that our political views were different, although I did not actually suggest what people should write; I only said that they should write.  I have been pondering this deeply as it is a topic I have thought about, taught about, and wrestled with deeply over the years, especially during the Presidential elections.

    As one who believes that body, mind, and community are inseparable from spirit, I am unable to separate political action from spiritual action.  I believe that I have a duty to be knowledgeable about the issues challenging society as a whole, to take action within the framework of society to seek the embodiment of my spiritual beliefs (grossly oversimplified, that the rules, commitments, and support networks of society should recognize the light of all beings — human and not — and foster the seeking of that light by all), and to challenge the very framework of the discussion and rules when they obscure the light and its recognition.

    One of the reasons for discussion is to explore, to learn, to be challenged, to expand both knowledge and understanding.  That can be a hard process.  I certainly do not expect people to agree with each other at all times, but that is not the point of discussion. While I think this sort of discussion perfectly appropriate in the context of a spiritual discussion, it might be less welcome where what is being sought is an immediate sense of peace and harmony in the connection of a particular practice.  For example, if it is known that family and friends have strong disagreements about “political” issues, it might be disagreeable for digestion and the day to bring up the issues at the Thanksgiving dinner table.

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    Happy Thanksgiving?

    ByElizabeth

    Last night as I waited on the metro platform at Takoma Park after yoga class, a large man in a shabby black coat came up to me and said, “happy thanksgiving.”

    “Happy thanksgiving,” I replied, thinking I like Thanksgiving better than I like Valentine’s Day, even considering the somewhat unsavory roots of both holidays.

    “Oops,” he said, “I meant ‘happy Valentine’s Day; I’ve been getting that wrong all day.”

    “That’s OK,” I said.  “Every day should be a day of thanks giving.”  I had been enjoying the day fully even though I had not engaged in any Hallmark-driven behavior and was feeling fully grateful for my life and not just because of the post-yoga class glow.

    “I don’t have anyone to give red roses to any more,” the man lamented.  “My mother has passed; my grandma has passed.  I don’t have a girl right now.”

    “Your mother and grandma are still here in your heart, and they know you love them.  They do not need roses,”  I offered.  “In fact, you have helped the world be a better place not buying any roses today.  Most bouquets of roses are laden with pesticides and cut and wrapped by women in poor countries who get sick from the pesticides.”  At this, a young woman watching me with commiseration lit up with a big smile.  Who would start giving advice on the hazards of Valentine’s Day flowers — I restrained myself from talking fair trade chocolate — in this situation?

    “You’re nice,” the man said, “what’s your name?”  The metro was still not due for another eight minutes, and, being the introverted, cautious, small, middle-aged woman that I am and thus feeling a little pressured by his longing for someone to talk to, I did the verbal dance to extricate myself from the conversation and get back to the email I had been in the middle of reading.  He went away peaceably, so it was alright.

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    A Commitment

    ByElizabeth

    When I enter into a contact improv jam, I make a commitment. I commit to paying attention with all of my being, to myself, to my partner or partners of the moment, to all the others in the room, and to a spatial, energetic, and creative attention to the dance itself and for the dancers as community and co-creators of the dance (and sometimes for the observers, too).

    I think this is not unlike the commitment of the tantric yoga practitioner who ideally engages all of life with a simultaneous attention to the inner and the outer, to the dance between the self and all that to which ones self comes into relationship and to the dance of relationship.

    Peace and light, E — Posted with WordPress for BlackBerry.

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