Sunday, September 18, 2011

on food...

Simple foods. Holy foods. Wholly-foods. They're all the same thing, and they're all around us. They are all naturally occuring! Doy, says you. They need nothing else, aside from a little cooking, maybe, if it's called for. Something has been bothering me for a while. See, when I enjoy foods that are simple, having only their selves as the ingredient, I feel quite good. Not particularly physically, as I (with all graciousness) typically feel fine, no matter what I happen to eat. No, it is mentally, and dare I say spiritually nourishing when I consume a vegetable, root, fruit, egg, etcetera.

That isn't what bothers me. What bothers me is whatever it is that distracts me (and a great many others) from ever eating any other way?

Here is a brief list of the noble qualities that the humble vegetable posesses:
  • The vegetable knows itself. That apple, that pear? It knows what it is, and it is it, presumably without giving it a second thought, or none at all!
  • The vegetable is honest. To the best of it's ability. We intellects may tamper with pesticides and other chemicals, but the vegetable has no interest in tricking you into eating it for its own gain, aside from spreading its own seeds.
  • The vegetable knows what to do, and when.
  • The vegetable lives so it can give. In doing this, it expresses itself freely and becomes one with everything else.
I'm pretty lucky to have ears and eyes to learn from such quiet teachers.

Sunday, September 11, 2011

What does one say?

It's true. What does one say when discussing September 11th? I'm surely not one for copying and pasting generic and nationalist rememberance paragraphs. All that I may say is that my hope is for humanity to use this day to inspire themselves to do away with acting on hatred. We should neither fear nor hate those we would call against us, nor should we glorify and empower those who would "protect" us.

Responsibility falls to us all as individuals and as one whole, as we are all both.

Wednesday, September 7, 2011

Shirtfolders: Practitioners of a Simple, Satisfying Art

Imagine your ideal wardrobe, if you will. Do you have it? How do you dream of obtaining it, if you aren't satisfied? All of these questions could be tackled in an entirely different post, of course... However, you might find that you already have your ideal wardrobe, right under your nose! Paring down my clothing inventory is a topic I think of now and then, and I always seem to return to the same conclusion:

  • stick to the basics
  • choose quality
  • keep just enough
  • care for what you do have

There is something to be said about the satisfaction of imagining yourself opening up the drawers of your bureau and seeing your shirts neatly folded, stacked, and ready to grab and just put on. Thinking of keeping my shirts in such order, while knowing much else in my life is somewhat a special kind of chaos, brings me back down to the earth and causes me to marvel at the easiness of it all. As such, this video that I'm posting below ought to inspire you to make your way to your drawer and do a mindful shirt storing meditation. It's almost as fun and aesthetically pleasing as it is simple!

folding shirts, the "japanese way". So they say.

Tuesday, September 6, 2011

World's Smallest Sushi


Here in our western world, we typically tend to find meaning in money, and more money. Oh, and gold. Essentially, more in general. But, perhaps... suppose one could find meaning in less? What if meaning could be found in the smallest amount possible? Truly, in this post from Junkculture, more might be found in less.

baking bread and learning to dance, today.

Sunday, September 4, 2011

the art of story.

Also, remember that good stories can come in the smallest packages. Telling stories is a hobby and passion of mine. I don't claim to tell very good ones, but I do enjoy it, and enjoy trying to make it interesting. I'll elaborate more on that sometime. Here is am example of pretty good storytelling in only a matter of minutes.


My apologies as it asks you to head to youtube to watch.

Friday, September 2, 2011

do, make, say, think September.

September is here! Our nights will soon be cooler, followed by our days. Here's what I'm going to do this month:

  • Browse for mushrooms in the forest.
  • Help two friends move into their new Portland apartment.
  • Brew a new batch of beer, and my first batch of cider.
  • Enjoy padding across the city by foot.
  • Behold the marvelous start of the harvest bounty at the local farmer's markets.
  • Slowly bicycling across town, feeling the fresh air.
  • Sip hot green tea each morning and night. (Maybe some mushroom teas if I manage to acquire some fruiting bodies.)
I certainly hope you take the time to really focus and enjoy school, if that's where you're going to be this month. If not, I hope you'll consider waking up early each day and educating yourself with books.

Just because you aren't scheduled for any classes at the moment doesn't mean you don't need to learn new things! Might I recommend a book about mushrooms (this is the season for picking!), or about trees? You might just want to lose yourself in a good fantasy. September is perfect for that! Whatever you chose, few things can be as comforting as beginning your day with a few turned pages and a hot drink. Leave your windows open, still, New England!

Wednesday, August 31, 2011

be here now, august.

Today marks the final day in a mental cycle I have, you could say. It's the last day of august, according to our modern calendars. Most will scoff or scowl that it is now time to admit the waning of summertime. Tomorrow is the first day of September, and I found myself smelling it on the wind while on my bicycle ride into work this morning. I hear it now, in the chirruping of the finches and tattling of the crows, and the morning droning stretches of the cicada outside my window.

Though I struggle to hide my excitement for the coming seasonal changes, I must remember (as I nearly never do) to be present. It's still summer, you know.

All of the seasons offer a chance to breath in deeply the essential offerings they bring. Might this be said of the seasons of the year as the stages of life, as well? 

Julia would scold me for reminding her of the fleeting season, but now and again I catch myself looking forward to the autumn. This is okay, in morderation! I have learned that it's good to appreciate the future when the future arrives, otherwise our future floats, stared-at and overhead while time passes by unnoticed and unused.

So, here is a list of basic things you might consider doing soon:
  • plan your last beach trip (be sure to swim! A little water will do you well.)
  • while your at it, pack up a picnic, complete with blanket, summer salads, and company.
  • Observe nature. Many birds and insects thrive in summer, consider those!
  • go on a bike ride (though, this doesn't have to stop after summer.)
  • read. Cram in your final book of summer reading! (...not just for men.)
  • Observe the stars. Bid these guys farewell.
  • Shorts. Wear them before they are no longer needed.
  • Eat. Many of the best foods will be slowly showing up as we drift into September!
I hope that you enjoy yourself and others on this last day of the month. Don't forget to rabbit rabbit!

Tuesday, August 30, 2011

down time, but not down.

what's time for?
Mondays and Tuesdays are currently my and Julia's weekend (Julia is my much beloved girlfriend and friend of four years. You'll know more about her sometime.) Rarely does our apartment stay occupied on these days, but as for yesterday and today, we stayed rightly put.  More importantly, I've caught a glimpse of something very valuable, and is arguably becoming our most precious resource- time (and the simplicity of making it matter)!

effort not ill-spent
You see, to prepare for the "storm" that was supposed to have hit the eastern coast over the real weekend, I had spent time in the kitchen, preparing a couple of loaves of bread and other things that wouldn't need to be cooked to eat. Since the storm had no lasting effect on Portland, we could now thoroughly enjoy the fruits of our labor. All across our "weekend", we could not help but appreciate the simplicity of having no plans other than enjoying what we could reach for.


  • Simple and slow breakfast, followed by tea and coffee.
  • Light conversation allowed for breathing and laughing.
  • co-preparing a meal for dinner was wonderful, and I'd recommend all couples do this once in a while. 
  • Yesterday, I wrote a letter to a family member, who may otherwise not get much mail.
  • Doing small chores like dishes, I kept an attitude of care and gratefulness. I was surprised how enjoyable their washing was!
  • picnic today, in hopes of milking the last of the cloudless days in the season of the bee.
These are small things that might happen in any life. Yet I've drawn more satisfaction from today and yesterday than I might have all the live-long summer. We are quite poor, though I can't imagine a life much better.

Sunday, August 28, 2011

mistaking the finger for the moon

On another note, I suppose there is one thing I'd like to say today. I understand that there is much commotion these days surrounding minimalists and minimalism. I would not call myself a minimalist. Though I strive to detach from things that our world produces, I'd like to say that minimalism should be the moon, and not the finger it is quite often mistaken for. It isn't good to obsess and compete about the things one owns, neither how much or how little. Minimalism inspires and drives many facets of my life, and I am appreciative of that. It is a marvelous tool that I may use to trim away the things that would otherwise cloud my vision or judgement, but it is my belief that becoming a minimalist should not be the goal.

When you choose to walk up one of two roads, you ought to consider a couple of things: which one looks more enjoyable or easier, and what effect might you feel from either one? You don't necessarily say, "this road is IT! I am finally on this road, my traveling is done!" No, I think the conditions of that road are what shape the experience of the road. If you'll pardon a simple road analogy, you'll see that my point is that it's easy to become captured by your own lifestyle and become caught up in universalizing everything. It's here that minimalism could be used well to remove that from your way. It has taken me a very long time to come to that, and was inspired by an essay by Mike Donghia.

I realize that there are noble and ignoble qualities to minimalism, as there are to virtually everything. It's wonderful because it may be the only tool that fixes itself over time, much like we do to ourselves!

to begin...

You've found my first post. Maybe you're new to the blog, or maybe you've decided to start at the beginning, as I am now! Either way, you're most welcome. While you're here, maybe I could interest you in the very successful blog of my lady.

Jeeze, Julia!