Tending the Fire

Even though we only had one full month this year that we didn't build a fire, I forgot some things about tending one. The weather is chilly cool and rainy, the tamaracs are a painting on the mountainsides and there's a nice white-tail buck stalking the woods surrounding the house. The black bear seems to have moved on and wood must be fed in a consistent manner to keep the house toasty warm.

A consistent manner - hour by hour, day by day.

No, that's not my fire pit, not my gorgeous cast iron dutch oven, but I'd love to cook that way sometime. I fancy myself green witch drawn to cauldrons full of critical ingredients - onions, garlic, potatoes, venison, parsnip, yam, ginger and peppers. And maybe the occasional eye of newt. I sprinkle some leftover or borrowed hope, a glimmer of faith, a forgotten belief in something. My own cast iron skillet goes in the oven to be retrieved an hour or so later with food medicinal in nature, glorious in taste. I feed the fire.

I know I've been silent here for awhile but it was necessary. The inner fires have been raging and have required their own consistent tending. They have left me wrung out, exhausted and mad. I temporarily lost interest in much of anything except my sobriety and getting through the day. It's entirely discomforting to suddenly turn scarlet with flush, break out into an entire body sweat that feels like it's literally steaming out the top of one's head while trying to speak with a customer or a friend or the cat for gods sake. Mini-kundalini volcanoes. I'm reading Derrick Jensen and the words reach me in a deep place that takes time to assimilate: the truth harsh and cold. I have to take breaks from the book, but I'm compelled to continue reading each time I pause and I steel myself and open the pages - telling myself I can keep it at an emotional distance, I can keep from going into the dark place, telling myself it's necessary, it's part of becoming aware. I read chapters aloud to Brent and he hangs on every word. We feed the fire.

I have continued following the Gulf Coast and there continues to be excellent work done there, although don't for a minute think BP or our government have much of anything to do with that - except getting us there in the first place. National Geographic did a cover story, which mostly bored me to tears and the spill has been in the national news again, but the reports come with no real stories of assistance where it's needed most. They do not engage me the way Drew Wheelan with the American Birding Assocation and the bloggers at the Gulf Restoration Network continue to do. These grassroots activists are my heroes and there are pockets of them all over the globe. A friend in South Africa works to slow the same type of destruction to her Delta knowing that it's late late late in the game. We feed the fire.

We can all see what's happening here, can't we? The story will continue to die down as more and more of these disasters take place. I haven't heard much about the Red Sludge lately. They've built a wall, people are returning to their homes. But there's lead in that stuff and it's radioactive and the ground is a sponge. And it's happening in a thousand different ways in a thousand different places that we never hear about and never will.

We must see that any real answers will not come from the established order. Pluto cojunct Ceres asks us to revolutionize our relationship with the food we eat. To offer it respect and good soil, clear sunshine and pristine water. To thank it for the life it gives, whether animal, vegetable or mineral, and to offer something back. The deer are abundant here and their meat is healthy, lean and good. I will let one choose me and honor our pact from the moment I take the shot to the last savory bite. My willingness to participate so intimately with my food is surprising still to me. It is changing me. It is making me better. I don't like the task especially, don't enjoy killing in any way except that that's the way it feels it should be - if I want the meat (and I do) and I intend to eat it (the only reason to hunt in my opinion), I should at least bless it for myelf and recieve the animal's blessing. I'm almost certain it changes the food, making it a bit more nutritious, a bit more delicious, allowing a healing alchemy to take place in the cells. Our plant and animal siblings help feed the fire.

I'd love to hear how you're feeding the fire.

The Sober Kitchen

I've recently reacquainted myself with The Sober Kitchen: Recipes and Advice for a Lifetime of Sobriety, by Liz Scott. The Sober Kitchen is not only a great coookbook - it's a great recovery tool. Liz is a professional chef and a recovering alcoholic and she speaks candidly about the daunting prospect of abandoning her career to protect her sobriety. Luckily for us, she decided to create a context in which her sobriety and her love for cooking, and sharing healthy and nourshing food, fit together hand in glove. Everything following in italics is a direct quote from the book.

I also know that developing healthy eating habits and attempting a new lifestyle are goals that need to be attained through small and significant steps if they are to have any long-term impact. Changes in diet cannot and should not be thrust upon us, particularly as some magical solution to our addiction. We all know there is no quick-fix dietary answer to getting and staying sober and enjoying the recipes from this book will not guarantee your sobriety. What I am hoping is that you will discover how including good food in the recovery process may play a significant and often overlooked part in its success and, at the very least, help to make the ups and downs of the journey a bit easier to understand and accept.

We are often told that being proud of our recovery is an important part of our progress, but being proud implies that we shouldn't feel ashamed of our disease. Too many of us are compelled to make up socially acceptable reasons why we no longer drink rather than admit to the reality of our illness. Maybe having a cookbook and eating guide that addresses the specific issues we face will convince us , as well as the rest of the world, that we have nothing to be ashamed of.

Liz divides the cookbook into three phases of recovery:

Phase One - Saving Your Life and Staying Sober includes beverages, snacks and sweets, soup and easy dinner solutions. During this early stage of recovery, which lasts anywhere from six months to a year and a half, there is only one real objective and that is to not drink.

Phase Two - Getting Comfortable and Feeding Your Inner Child has breakfast and brunch recipes, comfort food, side dishes and desserts. By Phase Two, what has changed is nearly everything! Cravings are fewer and farther between. Time away from home to attend programs or meetings has lessened. We're hopefully feeling a lot more confident and healthier by having removed alcohol from our lives and are discovering the satisfying and happy life of sobriety. This isn't to say that we feel great every day of the week, but it does get better.

Phase Three - Enhancing Your Health and Becoming a Sober Gourmet showcases salads, vegetarian cooking, food as medicine and sober makeovers of classic recipes. By Phase Three, generally reached by the third or fourth year of sobriety; we have come to an important point in our recovery when, more often than not, life is good, physical and mental health is greatly improved, and we are easily able to face the trials of life without reaching for a chemical substance to get us through them.

Exploring this cookbook has been so much fun and every recipe I've tried has been great! I'll post a few here in the coming weeks starting with the one below. This rediscovered tool fits in perfectly with my East work on the medicine wheel and the self-care I'm implementing. I would recommend this cookbook/recovery tool to anyone.

The Road to Recovery Trail Mix

Simply combine all the ingredients in a canister or zipper-lock bag and toss well. Store any bags of unused nuts and seeds in the fridge or freezer to retain freshness.

2 cups roasted soybeans

1 cup shelled pumpkin seeds

1 cup shelled sunflower seeds

1 cup dried banana chips

1/2 cup honey roasted peanuts

1/2 cup mini semisweet chocolate chips

Makes 12 1/2 cup servings.

New Moon in Aries

Once a month the moon goes through her dark phase, also called the New Moon. This occurs when the moon and sun are conjunct on the ecliptic. When they are so joined, there is no light from which the moon can reflect and so she appears dark in the sky. As the two bodies slowly begin to pull away from each other, she once again begins to reflect the sun's light, in a sliver of a crescent at first, gradually, each night building light on her surface until she rides full and round in the night sky. Today the moon is conjunct the sun in the traditional astrological sign of Aries, heralder of spring, new beginnings and awakening life. In the northern hemisphere of course.

This morning there is a skiff of snow on the valley floor, the sky is clear and blue and the Swan Range in the distance across the lake is proud and stunning. It's cold, but the sun is beginning to carry warmth here and the days will continue to lengthen until they last 18 hours. Dawn and evening will stretch on and on like the taffy of the gods, creating more of those in-between times like twilight and dusk and slow morning; more time for the human soul to integrate the lessons of the earth mother, more time to celebrate the life we have here, more time to heed the call.

It's an auspicious time to begin a medicine wheel journey. Because the medicine wheel is a cosomos-viewer created by indigenous peoples in different parts of the world, there are different meanings for the directions, different animal totems, different lessons to be learned, different tools with which to manifest spirit. Which means of course that it's up to the individual to intuitively decide where to begin, what processes to use and how long to spend with each direction.

I've decided that my initial journey around the wheel will begin now, in the spring, in the east. I will journey once around the wheel in the coming year, seasonally and with the rhythms of the moon. The element of the east is air where the power of the mind comes to bear on the creative forces alive in the universe and begins to work in harmony with the elemental muses. I will use my time in the east, which will last until the summer solstice in June, to begin to heal my body from its various abuses by practicing extreme self-care and to prepare for the remainder of the journey.

I will post more about how I'm going about this as I go about it, but for now I've decided to continue my exercise program and hopefully notch it up a bit as well as adding weekly saunas to the routine. My dear friend and employer, Roberta, has a FAR infrared sauna that is available to me almost any time. I've used the sauna, but not in any disciplined way and not with much intent behind it. That's going to change and I intend to sweat. A lot. Sweat is purifying and I want to assist my body with the healing that good old-fashioned sweat can provide. I will rest, as long and as often as I need to. When I can afford extras, I will do them: massage and yoga come immediately to mind.

This seems like a good time to say that I'm up for any and all suggestions about how to implement better self-care. I know nutrition will play a huge part for me.

Another thing I'm going to do is use the new and full moons to write out intentions each month and follow-up with how I'm doing on them. I've done this before, but once again not in a disciplined or meaningful way. My intentions for this cycle are:

1. Stay sober
2. Sweat 5-6 times a week whether through exercise or sauna.
3. Continue with my outside treatment protocol which includes group and individual
therapy, medication management (for depression and anxiety which continue to
show up), relapse prevention, AA attendance and LSR e-mail list participation.