Posts Tagged ‘warm’

Hot Bowl of Soup

November 8, 2017

Cookies baking in the oven.

I needed some comfort time when I got home.

Cookies are not for me to eat, but I had some left over dough from making cookies last week and I figured I might know a person who would like them.

I think I just wanted my oven on.

It’s cold outside kids.

I was going to call this blog, Baby, It’s Cold Outside, but I think I already have a blog, maybe even two with that exact title.

So, Hot Bowl of Soup it is.

Self-care.

I needed some.

I just got exhausted today.

I don’t know why exactly, I felt pretty damn good most of the day.

I did a lot of work in therapy, so there’s that, sometimes the sessions can be big or cover big stuff and I will have well, not exactly an emotional hang over, but a touch of tenderness about me the rest of the day.

I also, I swear it’s true, think that my boss was exhausted and it sort of rubbed off on me at the end of the day.

Plus the kids had really big energy and it felt like it took a lot for me to be present and accountable.

I made a nice dinner for the family, spaghetti carbonara, roasted chicken legs, spinach salad with roasted pears, bacon, Toma cheese, roasted almonds, and roasted garlic sweet potato coins.

The cooking helps me to connect with my charges and also, puts a sort of ending on the day before I head off to see my clients at my internship.

I suspect that the barrage of client e-mails at the end of my day did not help either.

I got a lot of incoming e-mails right at the end of the day and juggling making dinner, wrangling the baby and coordinating with the mom for a big play date tomorrow and an early start to my day on Thursday and I just got smacked with overwhelm.

I had a hard time shaking it off.

But I managed to scrape myself up and get to my internship and I felt much better after my first session.

Which was a phone session.

My first one.

Not my first choice, but rather that than nothing and I can count a phone session towards my hours, although only to a certain degree, it’s called Telemedicine and you can only accrue about 375 hours of it.

I don’t dislike it.

But I don’t like it as much as face to face therapy.

So much is missed over the phone, I can’t see my clients expression or body language, a lot gets lost.

Then again, I think that the phone allowed my client to open up about a few things that it might have taken a few more face to face sessions to get to.

Never the less.

I felt better after getting off the phone session.

I feel better after doing therapy sessions, I can tell I have been of service and spending an hour focused on someone other than myself is really helpful.

Then I got the sweetest damn message in a text and my whole night got turned around.

It’s pretty amazing and it was unexpected and I felt light and buoyant and loved and I knew I would make it through my last session and get home and have a hot meal and I would be ok.

And voila!

I am.

I even rallied some energy up to do a load of laundry and suss out a few more things for school.

Because.

Oh yeah.

I have school this weekend.

So there’s that too.

Trying to get all my reading done before classes.

I did manage to finish my Jungian Dream Work reading assignment, and I turned in the paper on Sunday, plus I got into my Transpersonal reading and I finished my Drug and Alcohol reading.  I’m a bit behind on my Psychopharmacology and Human Sexuality reading, but have at least dipped into so that I’m not completely at a loss when class rolls around on Friday.

I also had a client cancel on Friday so I can take that time and do a little bit of catch up there.

I will have the next couple of days and get done what I get done and not fret too hard about what I can’t finish.

I typically do manage to get it in or damn close to it.

I have been a lot less on my phone during the day, taking Facebook off it was one of the best decisions ever, and I’ve been assiduously reading when ever I can.

I got nearly an hour in at work today.

A half hour at lunch then another stretch on the train and in the school yard waiting for my charges to finish up with school.

If I keep that up I’ll be sitting pretty damn good come Friday.

And tomorrow will not be as draining, I’ll get some sleep, I’ll have a good day at work, the play date I’m managing happens to be with one of my previous charges and I just adore him to bits, it will be special to have some time with him.

And I’ll get out a little early to hit up group supervision and then go to the deal with my people.

See and be seen by those I need and love.

Grateful to have hot food in my tummy, warm bunny slippers on my feet, and the cookies, although not for me, smell delicious and it’s nice to be cozy in my home.

I am really grateful for what I have.

My life is good.

I love.

And.

I am loved.

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What Are You Doing

November 5, 2017

For self-care?

My group supervisor asked me after I checked in around a client that I have to do a lot of outside resourcing for.

I blurted out, “baking!”

And it’s true.

Last night I made cookies for a dearest ones anniversary.

It was the first time that I have made cookies in my little home here by the sea.

You could say this person is extraordinarily important to me.

So.

Important.

And I knew that I wanted to make cookies for them.

Peanut butter chocolate chip.

Oversized.

Soft and warm.

Full of love.

I was fluffing the butter and creaming the sugar and adding all the super extraordinary rich smelling ingredients together in the bowl and reflecting upon how much I love this person.

I was thinking of Isabella Allende’s book “Like Water For Chocolate,” and how the main character cooks her emotions into her meals.

How the other characters in the book respond to the emotions in the book, bursting into flames with love and passion and feeling.

Cooking and baking for me are a kind of meditation and they are soothing and full of self-care.

Granted.

I didn’t eat any of the cookies.

I didn’t taste them.

I don’t eat sugar or flour so to make them was sort of a big deal.

It was the first time I had sugar in my pantry in four years.

I found it was fine.

I wasn’t tempted, I wasn’t at all.

Not even to lick my fingers.

And I sense that was the lynch pin for me, that I didn’t have a motive for the cookies except to show this person how much I love them.

Not.

Ooh.

“I’m being secret and baking cookies in my house and all the goodies are going to get eaten.”

There was purpose there and in the purpose, such pleasure.

In fact.

I forgot how much I enjoy baking.

I have been baking a lot at work too, a pear tart, an apple tart, banana bread, plus I make a ton of food, pastas mainly, for the family that I would never touch.

“You’re the best cooker ever!” And, “these are better than granny’s,” are compliments I have gotten from my charges.

I have to take their word for it.

I almost never taste the food I make for them.

But.

I can smell it and sense what works with what and I think about the woman who owns and runs Tartine Manufacturing and how she is known to make the most extraordinary bread.

And.

Oh, the Universe is sly and funny.

She doesn’t ever eat any of it.

She’s gluten intolerant.

But like, me, I presume, there is a great satisfaction in the baking.

I know I felt super happy baking my cookies last night.

Really good and sweet and loving and I planned it so the cookies would be warm when I handed them over.

I love little details like that.

I like giving.

I am remembering when I used to make sugar cookies at Christmas time and bring them into work.

Or candy.

I made a lot of Christmas candy, back in Wisconsin mainly, after I moved to San Francisco I still did a bit of baking but not the candy making and after a few years, 2009, I stopped baking, when I began to get abstinent around my food.

I occasionally made something for someone.

A pie here or there.

But it’s really been years since I have had all the ingredients in my home to bake.

Heck.

I had to buy a cookie sheet last week.

I didn’t mind though.

I had such a good time doing the baking.

And.

I also did a lot of cooking over the last two days.

I roasted a chicken too, yesterday.

I figured I would be using the oven and if I could get some food prep out-of-the-way it would be super helpful as next weekend I’m in classes and I like to have my meals made up before the weekend of class.

I just grab something out of the freeze and a piece of fruit and I’m set.

And today.

Well.

I was up late last night and decided I was going to let myself just sleep today.

Skip yoga, coddle myself, be sweet to myself and just sleep.

Of course.

I forgot I had set an alarm to go off so that I could go to yoga.

Haha.

Can’t sleep in even if I wanted to.

And it was good, I needed to connect with the outside world right away.

Although, I didn’t get out of bed to do so, just lay in bed talking on the phone for an hour.

Slight aside.

Talking on the phone is magic.

I am happy that I have people in my life that still like to talk.

There was luxuriating in the being in bed and not making myself go to yoga, don’t worry, I’ll be going tomorrow, there’s only so much “laziness” I can condone in myself, and being gentle and soft and slow and letting the morning have its way with me.

And it was extraordinary, I didn’t feel rushed and yet I did get all sorts of things done.

I wrote a lot this morning, always helps.

I got a hold of the dealership where I am interested in getting a car from and started some preliminary work, submitted an application and talked to the manager of the sales department and got some good insight.

I wrote my mom’s birthday card and got that in the post.

And.

I made chicken soup with spicy Andouille sausage.

Yup.

All before I left for my internship.

So when my group supervisor asked what I was doing for self-care, baking popped right out of my mouth and was followed up by, “making soup.”

Comfort.

And.

Love.

The best kind of self-care.

Showing up for myself.

And showing others how much they mean to me.

So much gratitude for my life.

So much love.

So, so, so much.

Luckiest girl in the world.

Seriously.

When Flowers Are Needed

August 4, 2017

There is love to be had.

In the giving.

In the receiving.

How touched I am.

How tearful and over awed and resplendent with feeling.

The gift.

It is perfect.

It is.

You know me.

The gift is perfect because you know me.

It is thoughtful.

When so many others have been thoughtless.

I cannot count the number of times.

Too many to count.

I could use all my fingers, all my limbs.

If I had a nickel for each one.

Well.

Perhaps I would not buy a house.

But I could have a very nice meal.

Very nice.

All the times.

Those gifts from thoughtless people.

Who.

Perhaps were not thoughtless, they gave me a gift, they thought of me.

What they thought of me was not me though.

It was a projection of what they wanted me to be.

You.

Oh, you.

On the other hand.

My magic man.

You see me.

You gave me something full of thought.

Full of heart.

Full of love.

Tender and endearing and whisperwhip sweet.

The puddle I found myself in.

When I opened it.

Abashed and eager all at the same time.

The joy of being known.

It feels like barn swallows at dusk swooping through the air.

It sounds like crickets in the high grass.

It sings to me of warm air at night so thick and replete with moisture that there is

No telling where your skin ends and the night begins.

It smells like lilacs in the high heat of summer in the Midwest.

It is the swelter of blush on my face.

It is everything.

You are everything.

How do you know me so well?

Transparent.

Taken.

And.

Complimented.

 

This love, love.

It is my undoing.

And my completing.

Pressed flowers in a book.

Taken and touched.

Daisychains and garlands.

My heart.

The center of a flower.

Nurtured and nourished.

The translucence of love.

For you.

Simple and sincere.

I bloom.

Singing In The Rain

January 21, 2017

What a glorious feeling.

I’m happy again.

At least my feet are.

I got home to a brand new pair of rubber rain boots in the hall.

Hello there sexy, come to mama.

I put them right on and have been wearing them ever since.

Yes, why, how did you know?

I am blogging in my rain boots.

Heh.

I’m breaking them in.

hahahahaha.

I’ll be wearing them pretty much non-stop for the next three days as that’s the weather forecast.

I could have used them today, but hey, I got them overnighted, so who am I to bitch?

Not I.

No.

Super grateful.

It’s so nice to come home and have them waiting.

Lovely really.

I will be waiting on another thing to arrive in the mail.

A new electric tea kettle.

Mine broke this morning.

I had to boil water in a pan for my second cup of coffee.

I do pour overs, but I might just use my espresso maker, the Illy one I got from the MOMA, I don’t need to boil water, it does it for me, and just have coconut/almond milk lattes all weekend.

Twist my arm.

And I can always use the pot on the stove to boil water, it’s not a hard ship, but it’s nice to have a kettle.

So that’s been ordered.

I have to do a little shopping this weekend, or so I tell myself, I may skip it and go to the Women’s March.

I am a woman.

And I do have new rainboots to wear.

I’m on the fence though, yeah, I know, what kind of political activist am I?

Honestly.

I’m not.

I hate politics, especially on a national level (oh, I vote, I do the deal, I send in my ballot, I do it absentee I read the literature, I make informed decisions, yada, yada, yada, justification, justification, justification) I think that most change is affected very close to home and I don’t feel comfortable in large crowds.

But there is a big part of me that feels compelled to go, to march, to be in solidarity.

I mean.

I do have new boots.

The may be made for walking.

I will see how I feel.

That’s the other thing, selfishness, self-seeking, yes, I was thinking I might do some shopping for clothes, I need some interview togs.

I have a pretty full closet of awesome stuff, but none of it really screams interviewing for a therapy internship.

And I maybe interviewing sooner than I thought.

I got a call back today from a site I contacted earlier this week.

The Liberation Foundation.

I met the founder at the practicum fair and we had a nice chat.

I reconnected this past school weekend with a friend who is a third year and he does his practicum work there, he gave me some nice suggestions and I took them right up, making a phone call this past Tuesday and leaving a message regarding what I should do for them next.

I got a call back today.

I had forgotten about making the phone call.

Life is busy.

Work is busy.

And FYI going quite well, more on that later.

I had a brief flash of it on Wednesday, I wonder when I will hear back, a thought of it Thursday when I did not hear anything and I had completely forgotten about it by today.

So to get the phone all out of the blue this morning felt really promising and amazing and just, I don’t know, super spooky timing too, I had just been writing about the need that I felt that I should be getting some interview clothes into my wardrobe soon.

And then I got the call.

The assistant to the founder said that they really didn’t have that many hours to offer, but that he, the founder, was really interested in me and wanted me to send them my resume and cover letter.

Directly to the founder.

Whoa.

Ok then.

I explained to the woman I was speaking to that I didn’t need a lot of hours to start, that yes I’d been approved for practicum, but that I didn’t need to have it started before the fall.

Granted if I can get in earlier and do some summer hours that would be highly optimal for me.

Big time.

“Oh!  That’s really good to know, then we could get you into the programs and show you around and give you a few hours and then when an office opens we can get you your own space for one on ones with clients.”

Holy shit.

I mean.

Wow.

I had this moment.

I could see myself in a little room, with a couch, a chair, a desk, plants hanging in the window.

I just saw it.

And I was like.

Yes.

Let’s do this thing.

Except.

Ha.

I haven’t written a resume or cover letter for this circumstance before.

I have, however, done some research and the school’s website gives ample examples of how to do the cover letter and resume.

So that’s what I’ll be working on this weekend.

And though yes, I do wish to be in solidarity with my sisterhood, I may just be hunkering down doing what needs to be done.

Or.

Who knows.

Heh.

I may wind up downtown doing a little shopping and let myself get carried away by the march.

It’s happened before.

I couldn’t think of a better one to be swept up in.

That’s for sure.

Much to ponder.

But first I need to boil a little water on the stove and wind down.

Yoga in the morning and I will just let the rest follow.

Whatever that happens to be.

No plans.

No disappointments.

A few ideas.

And a lot of flexibility.

Plus.

Rain boots!

What ever happens this weekend.

I’m am very well covered.

I am loved.

And that is enough.

Seriously.

 


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