Friday, December 31, 2010

homesteader treat in bamboo nursery

this is a dream and reality, one and the same. i wake up and find myself in a expertly built house within a bamboo nursery. we're visiting hwubby's best friend, a truly master builder. the frosty windows tell me how cold outside is. but the air indoor feels fresh, alive and just lovely. i ask the boff, and why do i call him by 'the boff?' it comes from the word 'boffin.' someone who can cobble together anything. anyhow i ask the boff, what did you do to the air? he says, super insulated. somehow i hear this tiny voiceless whisper from within. there's more to it than this. sure enough, his wify says, right on the heel of the inner message, her index finger making swirls, there's ventilation. here's what they do. he insulates the walls really well. as for the double-pane glass doors he puts in two layers of glasses and three layers of air. the air indoor is not stagnant but gets gently marinated with periodic infusions of fresh air that is scented with the innumerable bamboos on the property.

then we sit down to a real homesteader treat. a spread of jams and jelly from fruits picked on the property. my fave is quince jelly. it has this ethereal, delicate flavor. fantastic with the fresh off-the-griddle gluten-free waffles.

abundance all around.

Thursday, December 30, 2010

i want to be like the pharoah's daughter

this is a special shout-out to the incredible wisdom of the cyclical design of torah study. i've been going to torah study for a few years. yet this is the first time it has come to my attention that pharoah's daughter consciously raises a hebrew baby as a hebrew. i mean, she could have hired an egyptian woman to nurse him but, no, she gets a hebrew nurse to suckle the child. she names the baby moshe explaining, i drew him out of water. really, what causes an egyptian elite woman do that? this is sort of equivalent to the mistress in a southern plantation raising a black baby as her son. what is she thinking? obviously she is not. she is moved by a force that is way bigger and stronger than the mind. compassion. and that is god shining through her. so brilliantly. so fully. there's no fear, no doubt, no second-guessing, no resistance. what would others think of me? will it jeopardize my privileges? she looks at the baby, and that's it. this egyptian woman is so open and receptive. it is clear to me that the divine power knows no tribe, no race, nor country borders, nor gender, nor class. no wonder i truly feel i am a hebrew because i am a boundary crosser. i am an israelite because i wrestle with god. i want to be like the pharoah's daughter. let the force of compassion move through me and go the whole distance. amen.

Wednesday, December 29, 2010

hanuman. christmas carol

i begin to add a new thing to my schedule. not exactly a new thing. there's really no new thing under the sun. okay, this stirs me to recall a favorite story, something from the hindu epic ramayana. hanuman, the monkey king, plunges into the depths of the ocean to look for sita's ring. what does he see when gets to the ocean floor? one ring? no. two rings? no. he sees tens of thousands of rings, all identical to sita's. aaaah. what is happening right now happened before and will happen again.

anyway, i digress. i decide to meditate before going to sleep. in one of those moments when i am alternating between sleep and awake something comes to me. identify a few, probably three, scenes at different points in suk wah's life, i mean suk wah the heroine in the novel, where she experiences an awakening within even though in the moment she doesn't have the understanding and vocabulary to recognize it as such. but as the narrative unfolds her awareness expands, elevates and clarifies as a result of her interactions with the exotic characters from the chinese immortal world she recognizes all these wonderful things that are within.

hey, isn't this somewhat the structure of 'christmas carol?' the three immortal stooges, phoenix, monkey and pig, show suk wah scenes from her life...

Tuesday, December 28, 2010

out of coppola self, into my own self

i go to sleep with this question. how do i bring the immortal world and human world together? i don't have the answer. not yet. not as far as the regular conscious mind goes. but i do remember something hwubby says, maybe the character dreams, and then the dreamworld, little by little, seeps into her world until she can no longer tell they are separate.

anyhow yesterday i read two pieces of spiritual writings, one by my guru, the other by a top fave swami who has been serving the guru's mission to impart the teaching of the supreme self for decades with unwavering devotion. guess what? both include revelations through dreams. and guess what? i dream last night. here's how it goes. actually i should say this is what i recall.

the entryway to the dream is like a rippling lake surface. i can see gorgeous dancing lights that are refractions of what's on the other side. i go straight through like walking into a lake without getting wet. beyond the shifting surface is a world where time does not go by in a linear fashion. how do i know that? i see a spread of beautiful, vibrant sprouts. one patch catches my eye. tiny lavender buds. they flower into full four-petaled bloom in an unhurried manner in front of my watch. the scent is sublte and intoxicating.

then i see sophie coppola. she is in a spaghetti strap dress. pink and fitted with a floral, ruffled hemline. i see she is frustrated trying to explain something to an audience and getting more and more so. in the dream i am calm and centered. i simply walk up. i say to her, is this what you want to say, it's probably the language. immediately she looks utterly relieved.

i tell hwubby the dream. he says, you are now in this frustrated coppola self. you just have to go back into your own self. you have a question. you ask your self. and trust what comes to you.

Monday, December 27, 2010

one light ablaze in all. the sweetness of oneness

i am offered the opportunity to wave the light at the conclusion of the vedic hymn. since i don't know a thing about wrapping saris shivaa bravely takes up the responsibility to prepare me. we have so much fun. a girls' nite out at five forty five sunday morning. she says, i was worried that i had to wrap a toothpick. i say, check it out, i have boobs and butt.

as i wave the blazing flame of ghee in front of the guru's chair i see four rivers of light. from my own being. from my guru. from my grand-guru. from my great-grand-guru. all this while my awareness is afloat in the sound of everybody in the hall chanting the melodious and rousing hymn. i hear one sound. the sound of boundless devotion. i see the light of compassion, the light of pure and supreme joy, ablaze everywhere, permeating my consciousness. the sound of devotion knead all the lights, within and without, into molten gold. i become a bundle of warm sweetness. as i reflect on this i realize i am bestowed the sublime experience of oneness. i taste the sweetness of oneness. the selves of me and all are no different from the self of the guru. one light is ablaze in all. one sweetness.

Saturday, December 25, 2010

laughter from the big jewish elf

the birth of an enlightened being is a boon to all mankind. from one light many lights are kindled. we dedicate this day to celebrate our great good fortune of having a great teacher who is our anchor in the shifting sands of life, who shines our way to the source of endless joy that dwells in our innermost being. may this three min video featuring hwubby as the big jewish elf, and me in the closing shot, bring that much more laughter and happiness to anyone who happen to glance upon this. hallelujah.
http://gallery.me.com/egbdf#100026

Friday, December 24, 2010

thank you, my inner banker

i plan one way and it works out another way. case in point. i figure i need fifteen minutes tops to reconcile a bank statement. after all it looks short, less than half a page. i'm sailing exactly half way through when, boom, something jarring catches my eye. what's that nineteen dollar charge from the bank about? so i look into it. half an hour later, this is what i find out. some nice employee arranged, a while back, to waive monthly service fee on the account if the daily minimum balance is not less than four thousand dollars. i said, we can do that. so far it has been fine. somehow, somewhere along the line the bank's system bumped us up to another kind of account, something called 'value pack.' why? simply because the balance has been increasing and, above a certain dollar amount, the system triggers the upgrade. hwubby asks, how is this 'value pack' different from what we have right now? after mumbling something like, there are some small differences, the girl at the bank kind of whispers into hwubby's ear over the phone, well, actually, there really isn't much difference. the only big difference i can tell is this 'value pack' requires a daily minimum balance of eight thousand dollars. and for a few days in november the balance was five thousand. we don't even have to tell the girl what we want. without asking any questions she immediately changes our account back to what we had before this 'value pack' nonsense and credit us nineteen dollars.

so, there you have it. i have plans and the universe has its own plans. when it's all said and done it's an hour more than what i plan. i also realize that, with all due respect to bankers, they really count on people who have more than a full plate in their lives and don't look line by line into their statements, and even if they do, they just assume that the bank doesn't charge incorrectly. thank you, my inner banker, for giving me the strength and clarity to see what it needs to be taken of and stand up to ask the question on my mind. why is it this way? this is not what i remember how we were informed.

Thursday, December 23, 2010

the work is to stay in the present

i was presented with an opportunity to stay in the present moment. did i meet it? here's how it went down. i was getting ready to go to the dental office for a cleaning appointment when i couldn't find the house key. i was by myself in the house. hwubby was not picking up his cell so i had no idea whether he would be in the house when i would come home. by now i knew i would be late. just like that the old tendency of beating myself up was engulfing me like a flash flood. i tried to bring up the image of where and when i last saw the key. tuesday? when i went to shivaa's birthday party? i ran upstairs. it was not in the bag dedicated to spiritual study stuff. where could it be? suk wah, why didn't you put it in the proper place?! maybe hwubby took it because he couldn't find his key. no, that's not possible because his house key is ringed together with the car key. what should i do now? maybe i should cancel the appointment. what a mess you have made, suk wah. the mind was jumping all over the place like ants in a hot wok. just then something miraculous happened. i found myself taking a very deep breath in and long breath out. just like that i plunged into a moment of quiet and stillness. and just like that an image emerged bright and clear. i left for the airport the morning after shivaa's party. bingo. i unzipped the shoulder bag i took with me to the airport. and there it was. the house key. i called up the dental office. the hygienist was willing to wait for me for ten minutes. i walked fast and focused. i made the appointment a couple of minutes before the ten minute grace period. now my teeth are sparkling.

the key was where it should be. i did the right thing in that moment. the power of my accumulated spiritual force lifted me up when i needed it. thank you, my inner self. thank you, suk wah. i realize that i do have what i need in every moment. residual tendency does what it does, to try to snap me back into its grip. i just have to stay in the present. that's the work. simple.

Tuesday, December 21, 2010

i am as tough as the challenge.

my editor says, whether you like it or not, this book is a fantasy, sort of. immediately i can feel the tendencies to resist, argue and go on defensive. i can see the mind shouting, no, it's not, the characters from the chinese immortals world are to help and guide the heroine to reconnect with her own immortal world within, it is not fantasy. my editor says, suk wah, that's not what comes across to the reader. words cannot do justice to the cold, acidic disappointment that is fizzling all over me. the mind moans, i work so hard not to write a fantasy, this is terrible. so in the last few days i have been drawing on all the inner spiritual force that i have accumulated. i bring my attention back to the truth, again and again, it is what it is and it is not who you are, it's just a situation to take care of. a tough one. and that means i am tough enough for it. i am as tough as the challenge. not less. not more. just equal.

Monday, December 20, 2010

i learn so much from this young person

the night before a workshop hwubby runs into some technical issues. so he does the only thing he knows how. he sprints to the apple store. it is fifteen minutes before closing time. the guy assigned to help him says, don't worry, we'll get it done. and he does. hwubby says, he knows what he's doing, he's smart and focused. hwubby likes to find out about people. so he says, what do you do other than this? hwubby doesn't recall how the transitions goes. but very quickly the young man says, i have brain cancer. it turns out that for ten days every month he is sick as can be because of the chemo. yet he is a student, he works at the apple store, he lives by himself, he is at peace with the cards dealt him.

frequently hwubby and i have the great good fortune of meeting people who live a pure and courageous life without saying so. they live by their shining examples. really. i learn so much about acceptance and living in the present moment and staying focused on the task at hand just by hearing how this young person carries himself.

Saturday, December 18, 2010

residual tendency is like bamboo roots

my editor says, i want you to feel really, really free, you don't have to be clear, you will eventually get there. her words shine a light on another of my deep-rooted habitual tendency. fear of getting lost.

really. i thought i already got over that one. so it is very frustrating to realize that there are still remnants hanging around the mind. then a true experience comes to me. when we bought the house there were bamboos in the yard. we knew nothing about bamboos. it looked nice as it was. so we let it be. then, one day, after several years, i was alarmed to notice some bamboo shoots above ground across the pebble path separating the bamboo pad and the flower bed in the back center of the yard. hwubby immediately called his buddy whose wife owned a bamboo nursery. she said, this kind of bamboo have roots that run, literally. we had a barrier put in exactly according to her instructions. when it was all done she said, suk wah, there will still be bamboo shoots appearing above ground in the coming seasons. i said, what can i do to stop it? she said, keep your eyes open, nib them as soon as you catch them. i said, how long will it go on like that? she said, it's going to be a while. well, it's been another several years. i am still spotting bamboo tendrils.

why am i remembering this right now? aaaah. because deeply-rooted habits and patterns are like bamboo roots. i have worked to eliminate the bulk of it but remnants remain. the only way to take care of them is to be vigilant and nib them in the bud as soon as i am aware of them. what does 'nib them in the bud' mean? for me it is returning attention to the sound and movement of the easy breath. that is the sure and guaranteed way for me to reconnect with the inner self which is pure and free, the source of all creative sparks.

Thursday, December 16, 2010

learn by doing

in my own way i am freaking out. i ask my editor, am i being too ambitious for the first novel? she says, are you overreaching? i'd say yes if it's a lesser writer, but you are a very, very good writer. the challenge is, you don't know how to build a book. the first couple of drafts, you can just write and write creatively. and you write beautifully and poetically. but in the third, fourth drafts you have to be strategic.

i begin to see that i have to retrain the mind. i can write eating lox and bagels for forty pages but then i lose the story. i say, yeah, now it's about craftsmanship. she says, but then i don't want you to lose the poetry. aaaah. i have to learn how to do both things at the same time, to be strategic and poetic. how? i know only one way. learn by doing. the guru says, meditation shows you how to meditate. it's the same principle in writing a book, or anything in life for that matter. stay in the present. listen. keep at it.

Wednesday, December 15, 2010

she feeds and gifts on her birthday

we gather together for my yogi sister shivaa's birthday. we sing out hearts out to the vedic hymn that details what we are grateful for and our wishes to the almighty which dwells within us as well as exist in everything and everyone everywhere. then we meditate. o me o my, i just plunge into the inner depths. when my awareness emerge i feel rested and ready to enjoy the feast that shivaa has prepared for us. but wait, she has gifts for everybody. i get a lavendar soap. i love the soothing and calming scent of it. now i'll really remember shivaa when i take showers.

let's get back to the food. what sublime food they are. she whips up this splendid salad with persimmon, pomegranate, orange, roasted walnut. bits of purple onion heighten the excitement. a wide range of flavors and texture burst and merge in the mouth. as for the hot dish it is quinoa spaghetti in soy bolognese topped with sesame seed pesto. i'm not a fan of imitated meat at all. but the way shivaa makes it, with lots of garlic, roasted tomato, roasted red pepper, thyme, oregano i have to say it's the best bolognese i have had in a long while. however the truly inspired move is to dollop in sesame seed pesto. it just brings everything together and elevate the richness and texture to a higher and deeper place.

instead of a boring birthday cake shivaa makes creme bulee of chocolate, orange, mascapone. everyone get his or her individual portion in a ramekin. simply lovely. we are so full, stomach and soul.

Tuesday, December 14, 2010

i was so disconnected from my own inner self.

in the torah joseph says to his brothers, all this are god's plan, even when you sold me into slavery. so my rabbi asks this of us. looking back what do you see in your life that while it was happening it was horrible but now you see you transformed because of it.

this is what comes to me. at one point i wanted to end my life. it seemed like the only way to end all that anguish, despair. looking back i can see that was when i began to consciously ask myself, what is this life about? who am i? surely i am not this body. i got this shocking revelation when i was preparing my sister's body for funeral. so what exactly am i? why am i unhappy all the time? why am i here anyway? now i know these are the classic questions that impel me to look for answers. all that i knew during that time was this. no material possession can give me lasting happiness. no earthly relationship can show me the real meaning of this life. nothing in this physical life tastes good anymore. not any amount of money can extinguish the unbearable agony that was burning me up inside. aaaah. i was so disconnected from my own inner self. i was out of touch with the state of blissful consciousness which is pure, unchanging and independent. all that despair and agony serve the purpose to set me on the path to reconnect with who and what i really am.

Monday, December 13, 2010

i am proud to be called a jew

how come as a people it is called jews, from the line of judah? why not moseites? avrahamites? isakites? yaaakovites? or even yosefites? how come king david is from a line that originated from the father-in-law, judah, taking his daughter-in-law, tamah, mistaking her for a prostitute? how is that possible that the torah says the messiah is to come from this same line? well, this year, upon examining judah's story for the fourth or fifth year, i can see why. judah is the only figure in torah who would openly admit his mistake, acknowledge it and then some. he says, my daughter-in-law is right and she is more righteous than i. yes, he participates in throwing his brother, yosef, into a pit, selling him into slavery. but he manages to break the cycle of sibling rivalry. he steps up to the plate and asks to be taken as slave in return for releasing benjamin, the son his father dotes on, the only brother of yosef, the son of his father's most favored wife. in other word he rises to the challenges and become transformed. this is the template for me. i can't avoid making mistakes. but once i am conscious of being off the mark i can acknowledge it and step up to do what is necessary and right. in this sense i am proud to be called a jew.

Friday, December 10, 2010

our inner selves are made of light

hwubby makes a video of me lighting the menorah on the eighth day of chanukkah.
 
http://gallery.me.com/egbdf/100000

he sends it to the family. his brother calls and leaves a msg. he and and his wife watch the video with their baby girl, meme. then meme starts to imitate me. i say, i want to see a video of that.

babies are pure lights. they are naturally drawn towards lights. but, really, that's what our inner selves do. our inner selves love to be around people who shine because lights are what our inner selves are made of. we are beings of light.

Thursday, December 9, 2010

practicing acceptance

i awake at midnight and, boom, an opportunity to practice acceptance walks through the bedroom door. here's what happens. hwubby says, let's go to hong kong for chinese new year. fast forward we clear out the window according to the dates that hwubby found out. from where? probably he googled. it turns out that it is a window between his work commitments. so we book the flights, arrange accommodations, announce to family and friends. meanwhile thoughts after thoughts come up regarding how to plan the trip given it is chinese new year. most importantly i am happy that we will celebrate my aunt ellen's birthday which is on the seventh day of chinese new year. this is the one who has been watching over and looking after my mother tirelessly and selflessly. honest to god i could not have been a better daughter than she is. countless medical appointments, midnight emergencies. so i'm really glad that we have this wonderful occasion to honor her.

so there he is. hwubby bursts through the bedroom door and says, it's not chinese new year. i am jolted awake. i say, what? he says, i was talking to this woman from an international school in hong kong, she wants to see me, so we are working on the date, and i say, we are coming in chinese new year, when is the school holiday over? she says, no, it's not chinese new year. i say, how can that be? she emails me later and says our dates are for last year's chinese new year.

i couldn't fall back to sleep. the mind spins around and races in all directions. i knew something was not right. aunt ellen didn't sound that excited when i told her the dates. i should have followed that tiny inner hum. blah blah blah.

finally, in this morning's meditation, as i work hard to keep coming back to the sound and movement of the natural and easy breath i feel a sense of 'it is what it is.' not passive resentment. just being in the circumstance with all the specifics in the present moment. so hwubby makes a mistake. and he apologizes. i accept it. we move on. none of it takes away what his inner self is already is. i come out of meditation with a clearer and quieter mind. the tendency to resisting what is is further weakened. my ability to stay in the present moment is strengthened a little bit more. what a great thing it turns out to be.

Wednesday, December 8, 2010

eating and cooking are her meditations

i haven't started transcribing the session with my editor yet because i want to look at it from an open space of quiet, stillness and brightness. or else i'll be looking at the situation through the lens of i'll get lost, i can't hold it all. so, in the last several days, every meditation reveals, or shall i say illumine, one thing my editor says. today is this. suk wah, you write about food so beautifully, can you put it to a bigger use?

as i chew on this nugget i begin to see that this is where craftsmanship comes in. i really thought i had, through painting pictures of the heroine's relationship with food, that food is her spiritual path, eating and cooking are her spiritual practices. as my writing coach...and that happens to be hwubby...says, she is always hungry. hungry is a spot on descriptive for this character. she is consumed by hunger. the way she was raised and conditioned she understood this hunger as insatiable desires for food. it's how she soothes herself and calms the racing mind. so i thought i didn't have to spell it out in so many words to say that eating and cooking are her communions, her meditations. i say, i don't want to be preachy. editor says, you can do it in a sentence, even a phrase, very light-handed, but you must do it or else you lose the reader, nobody can endure pages after pages of eating lox and bagels and have no idea where you are going with it.

i see. i have to connect dots and i have to reduce.

Tuesday, December 7, 2010

can i hold both in awareness?

my editor says, suk wah, you write so beautifully, i've never seen anyone writing about food as beautiful as you do, the metaphors, the way you write about it, are just...i can't write better than you do. sometimes a writer says to me, i write this way because it's my 'voice.' i would say, you don't have a 'voice.' anyway, my editor goes on to say, you write best when you just write, paragraph after paragraph, but you can't write forty pages of 'eating lox and bagels.' i really can't bring myself to say, one of the reasons i end up having forty pages of 'eating lox and bagels' is this. marquez writes eighty pages about a couple moving around each other in the night. well, all i can say is it is not working out for me. not yet. marquez is marquez. suk wah is suk wah. i have to deal with suk wah's reality as it is. don't compare, suk wah.

so, what's the point i am trying to get at? let me see. o yes. this morning, in meditation, it comes to me that i get lost, in a good way, when i just write and write. but then i lose the narrative, pacing, rhythm. i am very good at writing scenes, dialogues. i love it. i get so much joy doing it. but i want to get the book done in a proper way. so i have to be able to hold the scene and the story together in my awareness while dialogues and details are flowing out from the inner self. my editor says, can your mind work that way? right now, i don't know. not yet.

Monday, December 6, 2010

the shamus within. happy chanukkah

the sixth night of chanukkah is approaching. i am coming to appreciate the timeless wisdom in this practice of lighting yet another candle as the days go on. flame by flame, day by day, i gather the sense of building a brighter light and with that ever growing faith and trust in my own flame within. on the fourth night i was by myself. i turn off all other external light source after i kindled the shamus, the center light. i see the darkness around me diminish rapidly with another candle lit. when all are burning bright i experience one light. there is no difference between the brightness within and that without. the practice of lighting the candles helps me see the inner light, the flame which is sustained by none other than my supreme inner self. the shamus within is always there to offer protection from darkness.

happy chanukkah to all. may we be the light. may the light be us.

Friday, December 3, 2010

feeling daunted.

this morning's meditation is sweetness tossed in with spurts of feeling daunted. not heavy spurts. light spurts. i know exactly how it is triggered. from the session with my editor yesterday. we are now dealing with structural issues. roles and purposes of characters, goal of a scene, what need to go into which third of the book...all that good stuff. yet, as she says, you write so beautifully and you are at your best when you just write and write, so we don't want to make you write like you are doing a job, have to follow a checklist of things to put in.

i really don't know how to resolve this right now. i guess i'll just do the only thing i know how. let the feeling be there, and ask, you are a flash of supreme consciousness, what are you showing me? quickly a couple of things come up. inadequacy. smallness. unworthiness. okay, enough for now. and really, they are all variants of forgetting that i hold within me the source of that which creates the entire physical universe that ever existed, is existing and will exist. obviously this truth is still something in the head and mind, not in the heart and blood. what ought i do? please show me, my innermost and highest self.

Thursday, December 2, 2010

i become one with the soup

i meditate two hours. so satisfying. so relaxing. it never ceases to amaze me. really. i just sit quietly, keep paying attention to the way the breath is coming in and going out of me. i am not doing anything really. after a little bit there is just this sound of waves massaging the body, mind and i lose the sense of what is within and what is without. i feel boundlessly expansive. i feel abundant beyond measure.  simply sublime.

occasionally i see this thought and that emotion appear. none of them bother me. and then a gentle and sweet reminder comes up. you haven't tried the thai turkey soup yet. o, yes. i refreshed the soup yesterday with the last and big piece of carcass, threw in more carrot, turnip, potato. i was so absorbed in it that i completely forgot about the thom yum. somewhere around this point i realize i am caught up in a thought wave. one thought pulls out another, and another. i summon the spiritual force to bring attention back to the breath wave and choose to ground my understanding in this. it doesn't matter what the content of the thought, or whatever mental activity, is. that's irrelevant. any mental activity is a temporary flash of pure consciousness, which is my essential nature, reflected on the screen of mind. i experience satisfaction and joy not because of the thoughts. as a matter of fact such satisfaction and joy are not derived from the food, or anything outside of me. they are what i am. they add the taste of oneness to whatever i eat. indeed i can safely say i become one with the soup. it is complete and perfect as it is.

i am still going to try it with some thom yum though.

Wednesday, December 1, 2010

reborn turkey soup with thai touch

hwubby walks in the door from the dark cold outside. he says, it smells beautiful. i ladle out a bowl of steaming turkey carcass soup. he says, this smells like a dream, looks like a dream and you are a beautiful dream. i gotta say this turkey soup is a beautiful dream all right. cubes of carrots, turnip and potato float. i layer the bowl bottom with slices of the bright white, juicy breast meat that i carved out earlier. the aroma is intoxicating with notes of celery, pepper, onion, garlic, ginger, sage. it's so good that i have three big bowls and that's my supper.

today i'm going to take it up another notch. how? listen to this. i come downstairs after meditation to make my chai and what do i see? an almost empty jar that has a little bit of thom yum paste. this is the interesting part. it's been loitering on the counter for a while. i mean to but somehow i never get around to make a thom yum. in this moment i know why. today i'll spoon a little bit into the soup, not to make a thai soup out of it but just to heighten it with some spunk. now that's a truly inspired inner message:) hwubby says, we'll have old soup today? i say, no, the turkey is too huge for the pot so i had to leave a big piece out. therefore today's soup is not leftover but reborn. this is really something fun to look forward to.

what fabulous cousins and nephew and niece i have. i am truly lucked out. thank you tommy, daisy, byron and agnes.