Inspiration for the long weekend

The Invitation
by Oriah Mountain Dreamer

It doesn't interest me what you do for a living. I want to know what you ache for and if you dare to dream of meeting your heart's longing.

It doesn't interest me how old you are. I want to know if you will risk looking like a fool for love, for your dreams, for the adventure of being alive.

It doesn't interest me what planets are squaring your moon. I want to know if you have touched the center of your own sorrow if you have been opened by life's betrayals or have become shrivelled and closed from fear of further pain.

I want to know if you can sit with pain; mine or your own; without moving to hide it or fade it or fix it. I want to know if you can be with joy mine or your own; if you can dance with wildness and let the ecstasy fill you to the tips of your fingers and toes without cautioning us to be careful; be realistic to remember the limitations of being human.

It doesn't interest me if the story you are telling me is true. I want to know if you can disappoint another to be true to yourself. If you can bear the accusation of betrayal and not betray your own soul. If you can be faithless and therefore trustworthy.

I want to know if you can see Beauty even when it is not pretty every day. And if you can source your own life from its presence. I want to know if you can live with failure yours and mine; and still stand on the edge of the lake and shout to the silver of moon. "YES!"

It doesn't interest me to know where you live or how much money you have.
I want to know if you can get up after a night of grief and despair weary and bruised to the bone and do what needs to be done to feed the children.

It doesn't interest me who you know or how you came to be here.
I want to know if you will stand in the center of the fire with me and not shrink back.
It doesn't interest me where or what or with whom you have studied.
I want to know what sustains you from the inside when all else falls away.

I want to know if you can be alone with yourself
and if you truly like the company you keep in the empty moments.

Fancy Schmancy

I have to get this down because a) I'll never make anything like this in my lifetime and b) they gave me a printout of the tasting menu to keep!

I indulged in this meal at Beckta in Ottawa. Treat yourself one of these days - it is worth it!

Amuse
~ ~
Watermelon
Frozen Watermelon Sashimi, Grilled Asparagus,
Goats' Cheese, Sweet Lemon & Cucumber Sorbet
Riesling "Off Dry" Cattail Creek, VQA Niagara 2006
~ ~
Hierloom Beet
Crisp Pear Chips, Roasted Fennel, Spinach
Ermite Blue Fondue and Pear Cider Vinagrette
Sauvignon Blanc "Triomphe" Southbrook, VQA Niagara 2007
~ ~
Gnocchi
Fingerling Potatoes, Green Beans, Chanterelles,
Swiss Chard and Parsley Pesto
Gamay Noir "Estate" 13th Street, VQA Four Mile Creek 2006
~ ~
Intermezzo
Orange-Sesame-Sake Sorbet
~ ~
Spring Vegetable Tian
Pearl Barley, Fresh Spring Vegetables and
Mushrooms in a Tarragon Tea with Young Peas
Cabernet Sauvignon, Lyeth, Sonoma County, California 2006
~ ~
Cherry
Roasted Cherry Financier, Red Wine Soaked Cherries,
Buttermilk Sorbet, Toasted Almond
"Fine Old Tokay", Buller, Rutherglen, Australia N.V.
~ ~
Petit Fours

happy

filled with goodness
so overflowing
that smiles and positive energy
just spills forth
gushing and tumbling
coating my emotions
the way a warm coat
wraps itself around my body
as I luxuriate in its warmth
nestled deep
impervious to the elements

- LML June 2008

nature

My fondest memory (and earliest memories) of being and enjoying nature started when I was about 5 years old. It likely could have happened earlier, but I really only remember it from that point onwards. My family had a cottage in Vermont. After dinner, and just before we had to go to bed, my Dad had a ritual that he would do with my three sisters and myself. One at a time, he would wrap us up in a warm blanket, and carry us up to the top of this little hill that we had. He sat down on a log, cradling us in his arms, and we'd look at the stars. He would talk about the night sky, the stars that we could see, and how big the universe was, and how beautiful nature was. I remember feeling loved and warm and in awe of the gift of nature.

I love Nature. It's a huge part of my being, my spirituality, and my feelings of being connected to all living beings. We are all connected and I seek out nature to remind myself often that human beings are just a small part of that living, breathing, functioning organism that we call life. I find nature to be honest and real - there isn't a lot that is hidden or subversive. It makes sense to me and it fills me with wonder, peace, and great respect. **

**these comments came about because nature is our subject/theme at Toastmasters this week. The toastmaster, a lovely guy named Boby, wanted to get some people's perspectives and input about nature and their own personal relationship with nature. It gave me a chance to explore some beautiful memories that I haven't accessed in awhile.

Art & Inspiration: A Walkabout in the City

I enjoyed a couple of hours of walking along the streets of Ottawa today. I followed the CATwalk (Centretown Art Tour), and I literally walked into people's homes, soaking up their creativity and art.

I was really moved by the fact that the artists opened up their homes to strangers. It made it feel so intimate to look around at a creative person's space, get a chance to see them and talk to them, and check out how they live and work. Where they create. How they carve out a niche for themselves. And see, sometimes, the inspiration for those creations. I felt like I had been invited over to a friend's house to see their photo slide show. Invited to look at the pictures from their vacation or family reunion; Pictures of Uncle Bob and Aunt Jo eating their corn dogs or the family dog chasing after little Billy. Pictures that make you feel as if for some brief moment that you are a part of their family.

I think it added to the art in more ways than seeing pieces in a gallery. I suspect galleries are designed so that you are not distracted by the walls and paint colors and babies crawling around the floor, but I really liked how it added to the texture and accessibility of art.

A couple of times I walked away thinking, I should just go home and draw. Whether it's exactly what I want or what others want, I should just do it. And keep doing it. Over and over.

So I went home and drew. Just a little. And I felt like an artist. Just for a little bit.

wild women in the woods

There is something about fresh air and exercise, mountains and forested lushness that makes an average city girl like me* let go of all the tangled stresses and logistics of living in our world and breathe deeply, sweat copiously, laugh uncontrollable, and ache like an old woman.

I bonded this past weekend with four deliciously wonderful, wicked, gorgeous women. We hiked, laughed, moaned and bitched, sweat, soaked up the sunshine and company, and let our little balls of tangled messes unravel, slowly and surely, as we traipsed up and down the 4,000 foot peaks. Each deliberate foothold forced us to make room for nothing but balance and breathing. Pushed out the rest of the craziness that we create in our heads and made room for pure, simple, breathtaking bliss. We walked until we felt exhaustion and until the noise in our heads was stilled. And all that existed was the sunshine, the wind, the intoxicating smell of the evergreen trees, the boulders, the water, and us.

And each evening, over red wine and cards, we teased and laughed and commented and reflected on the day. Spilling into our bunks at night completed exhausted. And let the stillness of the darkness and the sound of the wind and rain outside lull us to sleep.

* albeit one that is a wee bit of a granola crunching hippie