Soul Miner

On August 1st I started an experiment. Could I manage to eat food that had only come from within 100 miles of where I lived? Now, this was not an original idea. Quite a few people have been trying this recently, the most famous of whom is novelist Barbara Kingsolver. The 100 Mile Diet is the subject of several new books including: Plenty: One Man, One Woman, and a Raucous Year of Eating Locally
 
  by Alisa Smith and J.B. Mackinnon and Animal, Vegetable, Miracle: A Year of Food Life
 
  by Barbara Kingsolver, Camille Kingsolver,  and Steven L. Hopp.

The idea is that more and more of our foods are coming from very far away: apples from New Zealand, fruit from Argentina, lettuce from California and coffee from South America. And when our food travel long distance before we consume it we are contributing to global warming through bad environmental practices. Do we really need strawberries in December? Tomatoes in January?

The other question that goes along with it is one of local economies. What happens to the local farmer when you stop thinking about where your food comes from and just buy whatever is in the grocery store?  What about the small grower with heirloom fruits and vegetables? In addition to putting the local farmer out of business we are losing biological diversity through agribusiness farming.

Now in an effort at full disclosure, some, if not all of these issues started coming up for me since my significant other is a farmer. But when the conversation about eating locally came up at church, I decided to see if I could actually do it.

The answer is yes and no.  I can get most of the fruits and vegetables that I want from local sources. Between my boyfriend the farmer and the area farmer’s markets, I’m set. I was also able to find a local sheep dairy that makes cheese and yogurt. And there are a couple local dairy distributors that process milk within 100 miles (I haven’t been able to sources the actual cows). But I have two major problem areas. One is protein. As a vegetarian I am accustomed to a variety of meat substitutes and tofu products. Gone. Beans, gone. I am eating a lot of eggs (which I can get locally) and fish, which I was able to get at one of the local farmer’s markets. If I was a meat eater, I would be fine since my boyfriend raises his own beef and pork.  The other problem area is flour and sugar. I am substituting all sugar with honey which has worked moderately well, but is challenging to cook with. Flour is a complete no go. I am not baking. There are no working grist mills within 150 miles. So I am substituting anything I can get for free. For example, a local Pepperidge Farms Bakery Thrift store throws out their products on the expiration date. If I travel, which I’ve done a fair amount of this summer, I get things locally produced wherever I go. I went to Vermont and was able to get some locally produced pancake and scone mixes.

Minor problem areas include cranberry juice (for health reasons), cooking oil and spices. I am buying Ocean Spray Cranberry juice because many of the New Jersey cranberry bogs supply Ocean Spray. Problem? It’s entirely processed out of state - try Wisconsin… I have been unable to find oil, butter or spices in any local supply. I was able to find a New Jersey brewery that makes beer and several local brew pubs, but obviously their supply is not local - and the same goes for local bakeries. If it’s made locally from shipped in supplies, is that better than shipping in the entire product?

There were a couple things that I did not anticipate. One, my grocery bill has doubled. Local produce and fish is much more expensive than those that have been trucked half way across the world. Why is that? Labor? Quantity? The other thing that has been a challenge is that I am spending a HUGE amount of time cooking. I wanted marinara sauce, so I had to make it from scratch. The same for soup, ice cream, you name it - I have the ingredients and I am spending hours in the kitchen. The food is good but I usually spend an entire day each week cooking. Because I often end up eating at work I need things that are quick, transportable and easily reheatable. I have made a lot of soups and salads.

Pleasant surprises have included learning where food comes from. If you look in the store, most signs say where the produce is from. And the local fruits and vegetables taste so much better! A truly ripe tomato is a delicious summer staple for me. By making my own treats, I am getting flavors that you can’t normally get in the store. Cantaloupe sorbet anyone? Peach ice cream? Ricotta blue berry pie? Yum yum yum.

So what have I learned from this all? I can’t keep this up for a whole lot longer. Both my budget and my work schedule won’t allow it. But what I can do is make choices about what products I buy and where things come from in an educated manner. I will continue to shop the farmer’s markets and I will now pay attention to the "where things came from" signs in the grocery store. And if buying locally versus buying globally is an option, then I will do my best to be "Jersey Fresh."

So it turns out that during her college years Hillary Clinton carried on a lengthy correspondence with a high school friend. She wrote long letters that detail both the evolving culture but also her development as an individual. At one point she asks her friend: “Are you satisfied with the part you have cast yourself in? It seems that you have decided to become a reactor rather than actor — everything around will determine your life.”

I was struck by these questions. The first to ponder, is , am I a reactor or an actor? Do I make my choices and my actions in reaction to the world around me or do I move forward based on my own convictions?

It brought to mind a conversation I had the other night about how our society has come to be the way it is. We are a cash based society. We buy almost everything we need - and so in order to have the things that we need, we have to work in order to have money. But it didn’t used to be that way. We used to have backyard vegetable gardens and we used to make our own baked goods and change our own oil. We needed a lot less money because we needed to buy fewer things.

As more and more things became available through mass production, we bought rather than made things and in order to do so we needed money and thus needed to work. Rather than thinking about how mass production would change society, we reacted to the new availability of goods by completely changing our lifestyle. And we continue to do so up to this very day. We are driven by media and technology - we react to the messages that are sent to us everyday and make our decisions thusly. We are stuck in an endless cycle of work-spend-work-spend that leaves us unhappy and overdrawn.

So is it possible to live in this society and not be reactive? We receive messages everyday about how we are supposed to be in the world and what we are supposed to have. Even choosing not to exist the way the media tells us and not to buy what it says we need seems to be reactionary. You are making a choice based on what you have been told. And so is it always bad to be reactive? I don’t think it’s wrong to react to injustice by seeking to right wrongs. I don’t think it’s wrong to make informed decisions. I don’t think it’s wrong to decide against something.

So I guess the real question is the first one: Are you satisfied? Are you happy with the choices you’ve made? Can you change what you aren’t happy about? Is it possible to live your life in a way that you are satisfied? What is important to you and do your choices reflect that?

I think it’s impossible to live in this society and not be reactionary. We are bombarded by information every day. So the real choice is about how we react and why we react the way we do. When you receive a message about what to buy, if you filter that message through your values, then you are acting in such a way that is authentic with your beliefs. If you make a choice to behave in a manner that is opposite of what you think is wrong, then you move towards the possibility of satisfaction. But if you continue to react to media messages without thought then you will continue to be dissatisfied - because dissatisfaction is what they are offering - and buying is the solution.

There is another way.

Now I know I am dreadfully behind on my blogging. But life has been busy! Work and relationships and occasionally washing the dishes (when I run out of spoons) takes a lot of time. So, yes, that means that you in the reading audience come second to cleaning my apartment. That’s just how the cookie crumbles.

But to make up for it I have a rather interesting blog topic. It all started when I was in college. I was the resident director of the International Hall (yeah, I got the job cause I was the RD who was most "culturally aware." Welcome to rural NC…). I was also a peer tutor in the University learning center.

The fall of my senior year a non-traditional student arrived from Korea (in her 30’s and married). They decided to house her in my dorm. Upon arrival she asked if she could start tutoring before classes started in order to improve her english skills. They, of course, asked me to do it. This woman was very demanding. She wanted more time than was allotted per student and would come to me in my room at other times for help. She also had a hard time living in the dorm. She thought the 10 pm quiet hours were too late and she struggled with "American morals." She got into screaming matches with other students in the hallway. In the end, the University decided that she would be better off living in the "non-traditional" student housing on the other side of campus.

Shortly before she moved she came to see me. I was in another student’s room and she asked if she could talk to me in the hallway. I went out in the hall and she said she would like to ask me a question. I said, sure. She asked: "Do American women where underwear?" I said, "Yes… Do you mean panties?" And she said, yes. I said," Yes, of course." She said, "Oh, in Korea, they said you don’t." I said, "Well, we do." She went on to say that she appreciated all the help I had given her and she wanted to give me something. And she pulled out from behind her back a set of three pastel granny panties. I was surprised, but said thank you and took them, not wanting to offend her.

I kept the panties for the rest of the year because I didn’t know what to do with them. At the end of the year I donated them to Goodwill.

After telling this story to a friend of mine, he asked, "Why didn’t you keep them?" I responded that I don’t wear granny panties and so had no use for them. He replied with disbelief. "All women wear granny panties, if nothing else, than during their period!"

Folks, I do not own or wear granny panties - I promise. Who wants underwear that comes all the way up to your waist? They certainly don’t work with low rise pants and the full-coverage look is not attractive on anyone - even a grandmother! I have bikinis, thongs, tangas and some hipsters, but no GRANNY PANTIES.

At this point, the gentleman in question, suggested that I am an anomaly. He thinks that most women own and occassionally wear a couple pairs of granny panties. So here’s the questions ladies: am I an anomaly? You can reply to me directly and let me know if you do indeed own some granny panties.

On most days, I am a fairly confident person. I have weathered some rough seas, acquired some marketable skills and am overall pleased with who I am as a person. I know what I can do and am willing to stretch myself to learn more, but also respect my own limitations. However, I occasionally bump up against someone who makes me feel… insecure.

My ex used to have what he called a "mutual admiration" situation with a another woman. They had never dated, but would have if either one of them hadn’t been in relationships with other people. She was a warm, caring person. She was deeply compassionate and radiated a gentle harmony with the world around her. Everyone liked her - no really - EVERYONE.

It was interesting to see what my partner found attractive because I am none of those things. I am brash and blunt. I am tacky and trendy. I talk and laugh loudly (someone even mimicked my laugh in a movie theater once). I have a formidable temper. It is also interesting to hear how others see me:  when people compliment me I am "grounded" and "responsible" (I thought grounded meant "- in my faith" but it turns out that it means "task oriented"…)

One of my best friends from high school is one of those carefree artistic types. She is delicate and moody. She is confused and creative. She disappears for years at a time and then pops back up for a day, a month or a year before disappearing again. She is mysterious.

I am too responsible to be flighty. My home is not a collection of the unusual and beautiful objects that cross my path. I cannot do shabby chic or avant-garde. I do not meditate on the nature of a leaf or collect poetry. I am not beautiful nor graceful. I am slightly clumsy and kinda cute. I will never be one of those willow-the-wisp girls with their gentle pensive beauty and quiet sexuality - but there are times when I really want to be the type of girl that men idolize and secretly yearn for.

I really struggle with those "I wish I was…" moments. I think it is important to work on negative personality traits (yes, I am working on my temper) but the times when I wish I could be more like someone else don’t feel good. I am me - for good and for bad - and cannot be someone other than myself. I guess that’s what "genuine" is.

I often meet people who inspire me or call me to be better or to more fully live my values. I think that challenge is healthy and is part of growing as a person. I sometimes meet people with some quality or skill I wish I had: the ability to say just the right thing, to write an inspiring sermon or to listen patiently and compassionately. I think some of those skills I can cultivate and it is about being better at what I do. 

But I get frustrated when others don’t notice what I think is cool about being me - and I guess that’s the real lesson: it isn’t about what others see in me or what I see in you - it’s about what we see in ourselves. We all need that affirmative testimonial every once in while - but the person we need it from the most is ourselves.

So what do I like about myself? I like the things that no one else seems to notice. I am deeply spiritual. I am thoughtful. I will try just about anything. I work hard, I like to learn and will do something even if I am afraid. I am perseverant. I love, support and listen to my friends. I believe in living life fully. I find joy in little things and special moments. I am susceptible to dares and believe in unconditional love. I read with a passion and write fairly well. I like to find beauty and create beauty. I seek connections with people and express my faith by building community. I try very hard to practice what I preach.  I am human. I am me.

So the next time you find yourself saying, "I wish I was…" forget those website testimonials - and write your own. Cause you’re the one that matters.

Find a penny, pick it up,

All day long you’ll have good luck.

I pick up pennies. Now, I know that there are people who don’t bother to pick up pennies. I like to think that by picking up a penny I have added a little positive energy to my day. There are other people who will only pick them up if they are heads up. Me, I pick them all up - heads or tails. Someone once said that it was bad luck to pick up a tails up penny. How can it be bad luck to pick up money?!

Yes, I know it’s only a penny - and it seems that every day something else stops taking pennies. Parking meters - no pennies (shoot - no nickles or dimes either these days!). Vending machines - no pennies. The bus - no pennies!!! When I was doing my Fellowship on Capitol Hill in DC I made $13,000 a year. One more than one occasion I got on the bus and dropped in 110 pennies in the coin slot (you do have to be careful with that many pennies - they have a tendency to jam up). They’re still legal tender - but at this rate they are going the route of the dollar coin!

When I was a child my parents used to watch 60 minutes. I loved Andy Rooney. One week he did a story on pennies. He went out with a camera and dropped pennies and watched people walk by and not pick up pennies. His point was about how people don’t think pennies aren’t worth anything. That story has always stuck with me.

But as much as I talk about pennies in the context of money - pennies are really about magic. If you believe in the magic of good luck - you pick that penny up. I know that I am a cynic about a lot of things (or that I play a cynic in conversations!) but if you catch me on a vulnerable day I will admit to wishing on falling stars, believing in dreams come true and finding magic in the world.

People sometimes comment on my ability to find pennies. Is it because I look at the ground when I walk? I don’t think so. Am I more observant? Possibly. When I am around certain people I seem more prone to finding pennies (or nickles, or dimes!). Am I more open to the positive energy of the universe when I am with them? Maybe. Right now I have three pennies and a dime in my coat pocket. Does the positive energy every wear off? I don’t know.

I found two pennies today. One in the parking lot of my apartment complex, and one in the minister’s office. I gave her the penny I found and she said, "Give a penny to a friend, and your luck will never end…" I recently gave away some of my coat pocket pennies so that others could toss them into a fountain. Later that same day I found two more pennies. I guess she’s right…

I have to apologize for being behind in my blogging! I am rather swamped at work the next couple weeks and between that and my taxes, I haven’t had a chance to write. I am collecting ideas (I am always collecting ideas) so there are good topics waiting in the wings. However, today I felt compelled to blog (even though I have a list of things I should be doing) after getting an email from a friend who was freaked out by the death of someone just a few years older than him.

I don’t think about death much. Is there a point to dwelling on death? It is natural for someone with a terminal illness to think about death. It is natural to think about death in a life-threatening situation. But on a day to day basis what does our life benefit by dwelling on death? Can you spend that energy on living instead?

I made an acquaintance several years ago who was decidedly "anti-Kim." We had been candidates for the same job and I was selected - which set our relationship on an awkward footing right off the bat. We ended up working together - she as a volunteer and I as a professional. We frequently disagreed and at one point she even drew me aside to tell me that she hated me. But she is also the person who paid me the complement that I cherish most. She said, "You have a real ability to be in the moment."

Now I obsess about the future as much as the next person (sometimes even more…) but the times when I feel real joy in my life are those times when I can put aside worrying about what is coming and appreciate what I am experiencing at that moment.

We never know when we will die. We can only live life hoping it’s not tomorrow - and if it is - that we did the best we could. If you can live life in the now, appreciating what you have, feeling gratitude for your moments of joy, no matter how fleeting, then you are fully alive. If you can cherish the people in your life, be fully present with them, then you are fully alive. If you can make choices about what is right for yourself and live honestly in the world, then you are fully alive.

It will be OK if I die tomorrow. The people in my life that I love know they are important to me. This entire year has been about making choices and being authentically myself. And I strive always to find joy. Today’s joy: I drove to work with my windows down - it’s 70 degrees outside! I don’t always succeed - sometimes I have to correct a mistake - but I have tried my best. And that is the only way that I know how to live.

Spiraling into the center, the center of the web,

Spiraling into the center, the center of the web,

We are the weavers, we are the woven ones,

We are the dreamers, we are the dream.

                                                -Neo-pagan hymn unknown source

The weather outside approached 60 today so I decided to take half an hour and walk the labyrinth here at our church. Walking the labyrinth is basically a moving meditation and the idea of taking time to clear out some residual cobwebs seemed like a good one. I particularly like our labyrinth because in addition to being a place of meditation and spiritual reflection, it is outside and I feel a deeper connection to nature when I walk it.

You can walk a labyrinth with a specific topic, or you can enter it merely being open to what comes to you. I knew when I walked the labyrinth today that I wanted to clear the last of the negativity that I’ve been carrying around recently. Just before going out I read a script that I am considering for our Easter Sunday service. It is an adaptation of the Velveteen Rabbit. The message of the script is the idea that "No profound change occurs within us without some pain… When we have courage and openness, transformation allows to live lives that are more worthwhile, and more fulfilling and makes us more "real."

I was struck in the script by these words: In a conversation about being real, the Velveteen Rabbit asks: "Does it hurt?" The Skin Horse responds: "Sometimes it does. That’s part of the deal. When you are Real then things can really touch you. And you notice how much they matter. And when you are real you can say "ouch!" to the things that hurt, and give real hugs to the things you love."

So as I walked the labyrinth I thought about those words. That being real means you can be hurt - but it also means you can truly love. The labyrinth was muddy today - the rain and melting snow have taken a toll. But I could hear birds and soon there will be buds on trees. I walked into the center of the labyrinth - and came out Real.

I was typing away at the computer last night and I checked my palm pilot for something and saw that the "alarm" light was blinking. I usually have something blinking at me for who knows what reason and I tend to ignore it. Good thing I checked it. It was my reminder for Daylight Savings Time! And since I work on Sunday mornings this was a particularly important reminder. I changed my clocks and all was well with the world - until I had to get up an hour earlier!

I had a meeting tonight of the small group ministry facilitators in the church where I work. The minister lead us in a discussion about time. How our society views time, how we experience time, what time does… I first thought about how I would like more time. I lost two days this week to being sick - now I have to catch up with all the things I didn’t do - I’d like more time! But I was reminded of the fall of 2001 when someone mentioned time going slower. I had an interesting fall that year. Just before September 11th I started a new job. It was a part-time job and I was just getting used to my new schedule when September 11th happened. I was living in DC and  had a  both scary and bizarre experience that included a homeless schizophrenic man attempting to take over the house I was living in. A month later I was held at gun point and a week after that my car was vandalized. By the time November rolled around I didn’t know up from down. I remember feeling like I was operating in a fog. My schedule was so loose and I only had to manage working 20 hrs a week that I remember going places and it taking me twice as long and not realizing it. Or walking out the door and just kind of wandering to where I needed to be and not really being cognizant of time - or worried about it. I lost track of time. I remember feeling relaxed about not having to work a traditional 40 hr work week and adrift not knowing what to do with myself.

In time the fog lifted. My grandmother died that January and the trip to her funeral marks a sort of awakening. Not too long after I returned I picked up another job, and then a couple months later I met and began dating the man I eventually married. I picked up a "cause" when I decided to do the DC AIDS ride that spring. And time sped up. When I look back it is interesting to see that  so many of the things I started in that time are now done. I grew that job to a full-time position and then I left it last summer. I married that guy and divorced him this past December. I sometimes wonder how much of the past five and a half years have been an ever expanding ripple from the fear and trauma of that fall.

I am reminded of the Big Bang Theory - this idea that over time the universe continues to expand. And as the universe gets bigger, each thing in it becomes a slightly smaller percentage of the whole. It’s like time. To a three year old, one year is a third of their lifetime. To a thirty year old, one year is 3.33 percent of their lifetime. To an eighty year old one year is 1.25 percent of their lifetime. The older you get the closer one year approaches one one hundreth of your lifetime - each year becomes a slightly smaller percentage of the whole despite the fact that nothing changed - each year is as long as the previous year. Nothing in the past changed.

Do events carry less weight over time because our lives are ever expanding? Can we bear the weight of certain events because the burden is spread out over time?

Ripples are caused in water by things both touching the surface and things falling through the surface. Heavier objects create larger ripples. But in all cases eventually the ripples calm and the surface clears.

It’s daylight savings time - the sun is back!

So some of you have expressed concern about how bitter I sound in my recent postings. Here’s the truth: I’m hiding behind bitter. I am hurt and sad and I don’t want to admit just how unhappy I am about how things have gone in my dating life. Bitter has a hard impervious shell. Bitter doesn’t get hopeful, so bitter doesn’t  get disappointed. Bitter isn’t vulnerable.

Getting divorced was incredibly difficult but one of the things that sustained me was a belief that I was in the wrong relationship and that there was someone out there who was right for me and who I was right for. That somewhere out there was a healthy mutually supportive relationship that I was supposed to be in.

Dating post-divorce has been an incredibly frustrating process but I managed to remain mostly optimistic. I want to take my time. I want to be intentional about who I date. I am not looking to move in with someone immediately. I do not want to jump back onto the marriage track. I do want a long term relationship. And in time, I do want to explore all the options that come with a long term relationship.

But recent events feel like the straw that broke the camel’s back. I don’t feel optimistic, I feel tired and a little hopeless. I have always believed that everything I experience in my life shapes who I am and makes me better at whatever it is that I decide to do - that life is a learning process. So what am I learning now? A friend of mine talked recently about learning to cry. Her words sounded like they came out of my own mouth. I have cried more in the last 6 months than I have in years. I thought it was because I don’t have much of an emotional reserve right now. But am I instead becoming more in touch with the full range of my emotions? Does that make me stronger? One of the things that I glibly spout off when talking about how challenging things have been this year is that old gem: "What doesn’t kill you only makes you stronger." But is that true? I don’t feel stronger - I actually feel like I have been pounded with a meat tenderizer. I feel thin and drawn - transparent…

I don’t want to become a bitter closed individual, but I am so very afraid of being hurt again. How do I remain open to possibility and experience the joy of being with other people while still protecting myself? Is it possible or will it always be a risk? And how much risk am I willing to take? Will I ever be rewarded?

I was looking for stories for work today and ran across a tale of two frogs in a book of fables. Two frogs landed in a bucket of cream and while one thought they would drown, the other believed that if they stayed hopeful, they would survive. So the hopeful frog began to chant, "Keep hope alive. Keep hope alive." The other frog chimed in and they swam in a circle through the night and in the morning the cream turned to butter and they hopped out of the bucket.

The moral of the story: "Life is a circle. There are bad times and there are good times… Despair may last for a night, but joy comes in the morning."

I’m ready for the sunrise…

OK - you’re gonna want to sit down for this one… ready? I was wrong. I know, I know, I don’t admit it very often so maybe you want to bookmark this entry…

The one thing that has gotten me through difficult times and the one thing that I have been missing here in NJ is my friends. Work has eased up some since I have gotten an assistant so I am focusing on developing networks here. Many of the people that I know or that I am connecting with live in NYC. So the NJ Transit has become my new lifeline. It’s only a 7 min walk from my apartment and then an hour later I am in the city. The the thing that sucks is that it only runs on the hour. Missing a train when you have to be at work the next morning is rough.

Well Saturday night I was bemoaning the fact that NJ Transit doesn’t have bathrooms and a train aficionado informed me that, yes, there was at least one bathroom on each NJ Transit train. Do you know how many times I have rushed off the train and to the bathroom cause half way home I had to pee? I was certain that there were no bathrooms on the train. So my friend said, when you go home tonight, ask the conductor. So I did. Guess what? There is one bathroom on the train…

Lesson: Don’t argue with a train aficionado about trains…

And in the interest of errors and corrections, Rick would like me to point out that contrary to a statement in my blog entry "He’s Just Not That Into You," about my friends encouraging me to stay with a guy who wasn’t that into me, he was in fact the one person who told me to dump the guy who said "I’m really enjoying being single" and "I’m not ready for a commitment" all in the same conversation.

Lesson: Listen to Rick, he’s a pretty good translator of the male brain.