Thursday, December 20, 2012

Everyday Angels


Angels are everywhere.  You and I know them, feel their presence, benefit from their love each and every day....if we take the time to acknowledge the love when it crosses our paths.  Human beings are angels, of that I am sure.  This holiday season has been a rough one for all of us, in the wake of the sad events that went on in Newtown, CT last Friday.  There is constant talk of the 26 angels who lost their lives and lots of plans being made and efforts undertaken to honor them.  We’re all thinking about them, and about their families and how devastated and shocked they must be.
When the news broke, I was just beginning the four-day task of baking 60 pounds of dog biscuits for a sale at my little school.   I knew immediately that I wanted to donate the money I’d be earning in some meaningful way, in light of the sadness and powerlessness we are all feeling right now.  I decided the best way for me to do that would be to honor my own angels.
There is such tremendous good happening in the world around us...and some of it is happening right here in Portland, Maine...in our own community.  Before I opened my business, I had the wonderful opportunity to work with some of the most giving, compassionate, genuinely loving people I’ve ever met.  It is in part because of their encouragement, belief in me and the example they set that I even HAVE the wonderful business that I’ve been able to build these last 6+ years.  They taught me how important it is to have a loving, generous heart.
I’m speaking about Stephanie Volo, Alex Fisher, Blake Findlay, Patty Smith and Kristen Smith of the Planet Dog team.  From the very beginning, Alex and Stephanie built their business around the idea of giving back.  Did you know that?  A portion of their company’s earnings have ALWAYS been dedicated and ear-marked for charitable causes centered around improving the lives of dogs in a variety of ways.  Kristen Smith has worked tirelessly for years to promote and extend the work of the Planet Dog Foundation.  In the up times and the down times, Planet Dog has never failed to give back, and to be caring and grateful stewards in our community.  When I wrote to Stephanie to tell her I was donating $500 to the Planet Dog Foundation, I told her I’d learned to have a giving heart from her....and I meant that sincerely.
In the days since the Newtown violence occurred, I have thought a lot about angels....those little souls now in heaven, but also those here on earth.  My life has been touched by so many earth angels like the Planet Dog folks through the years...people who were kind, supportive, giving, loving...with no expectation of anything in return.  All of these people have taught me how to love by their fine examples.  We need each other and we’re all in this life together, after all.  Kindness matters.
Before I went to sleep two nights ago, I made a list of 26 everyday angels who have touched my life in big and small ways.  Perhaps they’re good listeners, generous givers, excellent huggers....it doesn’t matter what their angelic quality is, the important thing is that they ACT...and that they continue to act...with kind, open hearts.  
Today, I am filled with a profound joy.  My dear mentors and guides, Stephanie Volo and Kristen Smith from Planet Dog just left my little school after being loved up by my dog students with a check for $520.00 from me to continue the amazing work of the Planet Dog Foundation.  This check honors the 26 angels who lost their lives last week and was given in acknowledgement of 26 everyday angels who have touched my life.  26 x $20 = $520.  If your name is on my list of everyday angels...this donation is my way of saying THANK YOU for being willing to reach out and love others.  Please visualize a $20 bill from your hands being tucked into the wings of one of the sweet angels who lost their lives so abruptly last week.  
If you have never heard about Planet Dog Foundation or read the mission statement for Planet Dog, please please take a moment to go to their website and browse around.  We are so very lucky to have such a fine company, run by a lovely bunch of earth angels, right here in our very own community.  Your patronage at their retail store and purchasing of their quality products extends the work they are able to do in our community and far, far beyond.  I am so fortunate to count them among my personal angels.
Before I name my everyday angels, I want to tell you how wonderful it makes you feel to GIVE...and I encourage all of you to give of yourselves from your hearts.  Reach out and touch someone with gentleness.  It makes you a better person, and we need angels here on this planet.

My Everyday Angels:

Stephen Andrew
Jane Begert
Michael Bernier
Kristen Boze
Joan Burke
Linda Campbell
Sherrie Chapman
Nancy Cooper
Brody Cullenberg
Carl Cullenberg
Delaine Hutchins
Judy Lappin
Elsa Larsen
Barbara McAllister
Evan McElligott
Roger Milliken
Victoria Rawski
Jenny Robinson
Michael Seymour
Kelley Souviney
Karen Stray-Gunderson
Tiffany Tappan
Patty Vashon
Stephanie Volo
Amy Waldrop
Angela Weymouth

Thursday, November 15, 2012

The Shape of a Heart


Early this morning while out in the yard, I happened upon a maple leaf.  Creased and folded by who knows what, the leaf was now in the shape of a heart.  I picked it up, laid it in the palm of my hand for closer observation and decided its perfection needed to be photographed.  Meanwhile, dogs were milling around the playground in ever-higher numbers as customers came and went, dropping them with me for the day.  I slid the leaf/heart into the fence for safe-keeping and went for my camera inside the house.  Not too much later, I returned and it wasn’t there.  Forces (a windy morning, myriad distractions inside the house) had conspired to remove the leaf and all that was left was a memory of its golden, creased, heart-shaped splendor.
Of course, tenacious sleuth that I am, I searched fervently for it in crevices between half-dead, leafy plants and in rocky hiding spots, but to no avail. I watched the wind to see which way it might’ve blown, but the moment....and my heart...was gone.  Almost as soon as I began to search, I understood (and smiled at) the higher meaning of what was transpiring, of how the Universe was playing with me....if I chose to participate.  And on this crisp mid-November morning, I did...I did.
The Universe has been tugging at me for a few years now, showing me images of hearts in nature over and over.  You cynics and realists (you know who you are) will say that it’s just my mind looking for hearts.  I, however, can decide for myself what’s going on.  It is true that once your eye starts to see the shape of a heart, it gets easier to identify that shape, and your eye is drawn to it more easily as time goes on.  But, I'm constantly bumping into hearts/love everywhere.  Do you understand yet where all of this is going?
The heart is the metaphor for love, of course.  The Universe keeps drawing my attention to love.  Sometimes it’s just a fleeting glimpse, like the heart leaf this morning, to acknowledge, enjoy and release.  Other times it’s more concrete and tangible, something to retrieve from nature and keep in my love collection.  But that’s just the physical side of things.  On a more spiritual/emotional level, what is all this “looking for love” and “in the shape of a heart” stuff all about?  What's the pull?  Some days, I believe that when a heart-shaped something in nature captures me, it’s my maternal grandmother saying “hello” from the great beyond.  My Memere taught me about unconditional love...what it’s like to really feel that from another human being.  So, often when I encounter a rock or a piece of bark that’s heart-shaped, I feel like Mem G is reminding me that I am loved and worthy of love and I just smile and say, "Hi, Mem!"
Today’s leaf was different.  When I saw it, I thought, "no way...it's too perfect."  I flipped it over and saw how the folds and creases had shaped it.  As I held it in my palm, I made the choice to stow it outside rather than try and carry it with me into the house.  It felt too fragile and I didn’t want to crush it, so I carefully slipped it into the chain-link fence instead.  And then life stepped in, as it always does, and I didn’t get back to the “love” in time to record it with my camera.  Only the memory of it remained.  Isn’t love like that?  Aren’t we all trying to hold onto love, to capture it and record it and keep it...to make it tangible, real, lasting?  And...isn’t love a tricky thing?  Today, it felt like the Universe was being very literal, almost knocking me over the head to involve me in this story about a dead leaf....a leaf that had fallen from a maple tree in exhaustion or relief or ecstacy (who knows), spent and drained of its radiant color and ready to be carried on the wind to its final resting place.  But...not quite yet.
This leaf had been shaped by life...into love, or at least into the most universally understood symbol for love, the heart.  Perhaps it had been stepped on by humans, chewed on by puppies, scraped by a rake...resulting in creases and folds and wrinkles that, taken as a whole, turned a maple leaf into a heart.  And I got to glimpse this love for a moment.  I got to hold it in the palm of my hand, to turn it over and examine it closely, with a sense of wonder about how it had become such a perfect little heart.  And then it was gone.  Taking photos, for me, helps me hold onto beautiful things.  I wouldn’t have kept the leaf, but my photos would’ve allowed me to keep the memory of it around so that I could go back to it and feel the love again.
In the human world of relationships, we can’t hold onto love with a camera or a photo.  Sometimes....we can’t seem to hold onto love at all.  I’m trying to get used to the idea that love/bliss/joy/connection happens in small, brief moments, and to be accepting of that....just as it is.  The Buddhist concept of non-attachment is a tough one for me to practice, as I often want more.  There is so much wanting and longing....  This heart-shaped leaf reminded me today not to hang love on the fence and run away to get a camera.  It might not be there when you return.  Next time, I might just enjoy the love in the moment it’s presented and felt.  The time I spent holding the leaf (and feeling the love) was the briefest part of the whole experience.  The searching for it when I returned to the spot  where I’d left it took far more time.  And searching for it was fruitless.  There were leaves all over the ground, stuck between rocks and clinging to the remnants of summer flowers gone to seed.  And then there was all that time spent thinking about the magnificence of that little heart-shaped leaf, trying to etch it into my memory, reliving the excitement of finding it and holding it for those few seconds.
The next time I am present enough to feel it when love comes calling...I hope I have the presence of mind to stay, to be still, to hold on.  The love might come in the human form, as a meaningful connection with an open soul.  It might be carried on the notes of a beautiful piece of music, or it might be exquisitely rendered in a few lines of a novel.  It might be granted to me by a puppy or dog in my care who allows me into her world, or it might be presented by Nature as a beautiful rock or a bubbling brook.  I want to BE there for it.  I want to get lost in it with all of my senses, to feel it as fully as possible.  It’ll be hard not to reach for my camera....but I will try to wait a few precious seconds longer than I’m comfortable with and just let the moment sink into my bones, fill my chest and make me whole.  Namaste.

Sunday, September 30, 2012

Constant Craving: Facing My Appetite


"Eating rice cakes is like chewing on a foam coffee cup,
 only less filling."
            ---Dave Barry

After four weeks of trying to conquer my cravings, I am now of the opinion that the 7-day juice cleanse was easier than kicking my old food habits has been.  Each day on the cleanse, there was nothing to think about, no choices to make.  It was simply, “Here’s your juice.  Drink up!” repeated three times per day for 7 days.  Coming off the cleanse, I was ten pounds thinner and full of plans and enthusiasm for a whole new way of eating and being healthy.  Words like “vegetarian,” “organic,” and “vegan” as a lifestyle were tossed around as if they were no-brainers and easily achievable.  Having not eaten any solid food for 7 days, I didn’t have much of an appetite for the first week or two.  “This’ll be a piece of cake!” thought I...so naively.  What I failed to realize is that the desire for that piece of cake would soon return...and with a vengeance I was completely unprepared for.  
Once my “wants” and cravings started to reemerge, I was inundated by messages coming from inside me for pasta and bread and chocolate and coffee.  As I tried to stay steady on the path, I found myself faltering, being pulled in a million directions by old habits and desires for cheese burgers and muffins and french fries.  And I fell on my face...or more aptly put, my face fell with a splat into a plate of spaghetti.  I felt like an addict, to be quite honest.  It was all I could do to make it through the day without cheating a million times.  It felt as if I had no control over myself and my appetites.  The wanting was overwhelming.  I was panicked and stressed and felt like such a loser.  I couldn’t even write about what I was going through....because I felt like a failure, like this was just too hard.  And in my panic (and daily food cheats), I started to backslide....a pound here and a pound there.  I was angry...at myself, at the world (have you ever noticed that food is pushed and pimped EVERYWHERE?!), at my husband (who wasn’t having any effing problem continuing to eat healthily and was still steadily losing weight).  This THING I’d undertaken was getting the best of me, clearly.
The only place I felt “safe” during these crazy couple of weeks was in the yoga room.  It was a struggle to get myself there, what with that voice in my head telling me to go order a pizza instead...but when I did get there, I was able to start figuring this thing out.  As always, I went back to my learning about the ego gleaned from the work of Eckhart Tolle.  I applied that knowledge to this situation and began to see that voice encouraging me to eat and cheat and give up as separate from the “real me.”  Once again, I tuned into the fact that “my ego is not my friend.”  I remember seeing a quote someone posted on Facebook recently: “Don’t believe everything you think.”  That’s exactly true in this situation I’ve been struggling with.  If I believed everything that voice in my head has been saying, I’d be in big trouble.  Instead, I have decided to give this voice it’s own persona.  It had to be something reflective of how I envision this voice inside me and what it would look like in real life.  So....meet my inner voice!  
Isn’t she perfect?  This is an actual person (poor dear) that I saw on the street in Galway on my recent trip to Ireland and snuck a few pics of.  So now, when I hear that voice in my head telling me I neeeeed a cupcake, this is the face I see.  It was either her or Fat Bastard from the Austin Powers movie, but I think he’s so cute and silly that I HAD to pick this lady instead.  "Give me a pizza!" coming from HER just seems easier to say NO to, you know?
It’s been a couple of weeks since I freaked out about that addictive appetite of mine that came screaming back to life and demanding cheeseburgers.  I was “saved” by my friend Jacqueline who is a co-owner of Mojo Health Bar.  While picking up our juice one morning, Mike told Jacqueline that I was in the throes of quite a battle with my cravings and she said, “Peanut butter....tell her to eat peanut butter on apple slices when she’s freaking out.”  Sounds quirky, but I’ll tell you what: it worked.  I have a crisp, Maine Cortland apple every day at 10:30 and dip to my delight in the good kind of peanut butter from Whole Foods.  It’s helped me turn the corner.  Jacqueline also told me that I needed to have a list of go-to foods that are “legal” on my new diet that satisfy me...things that taste good and that I actually enjoy eating.  The more of these that I can come up with and keep on hand, the easier it will be to say NO when a craving hits.  Great advice....and that’s working for me, too.



So, it’s been about five weeks now from the day we started our cleanse.  I have returned to the 10-pound weight loss mark after wobbling a bit, and I feel calm and stable most of the time with my ability to choose healthy food for myself.  Mike has lost 20 pounds, it's true, but he has other demons he's battling.  He refers to my daily pep talks  as "the lecture series" today.  
       I’ve learned a valuable lesson about the ONE thing that was missing for me in this whole “feeding myself better” endeavor:  self-love.  It makes me tearful to think back to how I was treating myself just a couple of weeks ago...beating up on myself for having cravings, feeling like a total failure because I was succumbing to that voice in my head and then feeling awful after cheating.  All of my issues with not trusting myself, low self-esteem and not feeling good about myself came screaming back with a vengeance and I had to figure out how the hell to keep my head above water.  I was shocked at how deeply these roots run, and how they permeate so many aspects of my life.  This food thing is yet another facet on the diamond that I'm bringing up to the light for closer examination.  So, I’m picking myself up, dusting myself off and learning to be both gentle and strong at the same time.  I’ve allowed myself to taste the stuff I am missing once in a while, and when I am gentle with myself in this way, I come away stronger and NOT wanting that food again.  Instead of being petrified and panicked at my longing for cookies and french fries and pizza, I’m finding that when I do indulge a bit, I bust the craving wide open and expose it to the light....and it goes away.  That’s not to say that blueberry pie from Two Fat Cats doesn’t taste delicious (I wanted to lick the plate!!!), but I am learning moderation and I’m learning to set goals and earn something I don’t get to have very often.  And I’m learning to savor every bite when I indulge in something delicious.  I’m also finding that some of those things I’ve been waxing nostalgic about aren’t really all that attractive to me any longer, that they are losing their power over me.  Most of the time when I eat something from my “old way of life,” I get a tummy ache or other symptoms that speak to why I wanted to stop eating those things in the first place.

"Crave for a thing, you will get it.  Renounce the craving, the object will follow you by itself."
---Swami Sivananda

I still want to lose 5 more pounds, but today I am happy that I feel a greater sense of self-control, an overriding compassion for myself and what I am attempting to overcome, and a sense of peace and non-attachment to that voice in my head that clearly is NOT my friend.  I am feeling stronger in my yoga practice, centered in my daily life and am grateful for this opportunity to challenge myself and learn what I’m made of.  Learning to love yourself is a daily practice.  Feeding yourself well is just part of that process.  Yoga helps.  Making art gets me through.  I am becoming the person I’ve wanted....inch by inch.  Namaste.  

Making tortillas in Belize, 2009

Sunday, September 16, 2012

I want to be 5 years old again




I’ve learned as a photographer that you have to be open and ready to receive whatever the Universe hands you when you look through the lens.  In photography as in life, it’s all in how you frame it.  Sometimes magic happens and when it does, you’ve just got to be present and flow with it.  Children have a lot to offer when it comes to teaching us adults how to flow.
Yesterday I drove down to Saco to photograph a 14-year-old Shiba Inu who is a patient of the veterinary practice I’m shooting a calendar for.  The woman asked if her three grandchildren could participate in the shoot and of course I said, “sure!”  I don’t get to photograph children very often but I really love to when the opportunity presents itself.  


I arrived at Connie’s house and met Aiden and Bailey, who are about 7 and 5 years old, a brother and sister.  While waiting for the youngest grandchild to arrive, I scouted out the yard for good places to set up the kids and the dog.  Meanwhile, Bailey the 5-year-old was running around the yard with the old dog, Sandie, in tow trying to keep up.  Her awesome patent-leather shoes were click-click-clicking on the pavement and her purple plaid skirt was flopping in the wind.  She was having a blast "just because."


We had some trouble getting 2-year-old Austin to sit for the shots, as he was spent from swimming lessons and tearfully wanted his Mama.  That left me with time on my hands, so I just kept shooting the older kids with the dog.  I was completely drawn in by Bailey’s deep chocolate eyes and the way her brown bangs fringed them just so from above.  She loved posing and was so open and vulnerable and completely free and happy.  In between setting up shots in another area of the yard, Bailey decided to pick a few flowers and wanted to hold them for some of the shots.  This was terrific.  Where did she learn about modeling??  
Of course, I was totally encouraging her.  I am a bit of a free spirit myself, and I was aware of Bailey’s effect on me.  Through her freedom and joy and total lack of inhibition as she danced and ran and posed, I was able to remember my own 5-year-old self.  Kids often don’t have a filter like us adults do.  That comes later.....through our experiences with betrayal, embarrassment, shame, sadness.  We learn and we learn and we learn....to bottle things up, to hesitate, to hold back who we are, what we think, how we want to behave.  Bailey had no filter...no cap holding in her exuberant joie de vivre.  She was embracing the moment fully.  And I, lucky soul, got to share it with her and record some of it with my camera.  


It’s good to be reminded that I was once clean and fresh and innocent, uninhibited, trusting and full of joy.  That’s a good thing for any old soul, don’t you think?   In a time in my life where self-esteem is fleeting, youth is fading and the world can seem to be an unfriendly place, I needed this reminder.  I am a grateful woman today, having been reminded by little joyful Bailey to dance a little more, take a chance or two without worrying what people will think, wear awesome shoes on a Saturday morning just because, and embrace every single precious moment and hug the life out of it.  Just for today, I will follow my heart without fear, like I did when I was five.  Thank you, Bailey with the warmest chocolate eyes.  I hope you never lose your joy, sugar.  Namaste.

Saturday, September 8, 2012

I photographed a Cockatoo and lived to tell the story


Have you ever heard a Cockatoo scream?  No?  Don’t even know what that might sound like, you say?  Consider yourself lucky.  This afternoon I drove all the way to Augusta to be screeched at, incessantly, by Sarah the male Cockatoo.  That’s right: Sarah the MALE Cockatoo.  It's a long story....about his name, about the fact that he’s had five homes to date and about how I came to be standing in his very tiny kitchen while Mr. Sarah put on quite a show for me.
Let’s start at the beginning, shall we?  I’m a budding photographic talent and I like to take any opportunity to practice my craft.  A friend of a friend told her sister about me when the sister was discussing the need for a photographer to take shots for a calendar for the vet practice where she works.  Voila!  I am now the appointed photographer, working gratis, hauling my buns all over the place to photograph dogs, cats, horses, a bunny, a couple of guinea pigs and today....a male Cockatoo named Sarah in Augusta.  In all honesty, it’s been pretty fun and I’ve had the chance to work on my indoor photography skills, using my external flash and three different lenses and that’s an extra bonus.  Have I mentioned that I’m deathly afraid of cats?  No?  Well I'll just have to cover that in another blog...probably one about nightmares...but for now, I’ll stick to the screeching bird.
About the best thing the owner of said bird told me when I walked in the door and noted Sarah was out of his cage and clinging to a perch while bouncing up and down was, “He doesn’t know how to fly.”  Thank GOD, thought I as I reached into my camera bag with a trembling hand and one eye on the loose bird.  It was all down hill from there, I assure you.  A quick peek around the closet-sized kitchen had me scrambling to figure out how the heck I was going to get any usable shots, what with the huge cage taking up half the room, several busy kitcheny things hanging on the walls and a lovely flourescent ceiling light shining terrible light right beside Sarah’s head.  Oh...and Sarah is white....and so are the walls in this kitchen.  No problem....I’m a miracle worker from way back.  Just call me Mother Theresa!  


As I readied myself to take a few test shots, I asked if Sarah would be afraid of the flash and I was assured that no, it shouldn’t bother him (sorry, but I can’t get used to calling Sarah a “him” By the time they figured out “she” was a boy it was too late to change the name).  That’s just about the exact time that Mr. Sarah started to scream.  I shouted out, “Jesus Christ!” pretty loudly because this screaming scared me well...shitless...as the saying goes.  I cannot even come close to describing the paint-peeling shriek that is the cry of the Cockatoo.  So I found a video of it on youtube for you.  http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FTXLeL94DM0  Please, turn the volume on your computer all the way up before you play it.  Even that won’t come close to what I endured, but you’ll get the general idea.  And it goes on uninterrupted for like....at least a solid minute or even two before she...ooops....HE stops.  “He’s happy!” said his owner.  At least that’s what I think she said.  I couldn’t hear much at that point since my eardrums had just been pierced by Mr. Shrieky Face Sarah.  


“Ok, I can handle this,” I said after I scraped myself off the ceiling, and I just kept on shooting right through the noise.  And then he stopped.  Silence never sounded so good.  But then he started bouncing.  Yep, that’s right: bouncing.  Up and down and up and down and up and down.  He was dancing to music that only he could hear...and I was supposed to get clear, crisp photos of him while he was bobbing up and down like an idiot.  Good, good.
Did I mention about all the distracting kitcheny things on the walls?  And how about that lovely black metal cage and all of Mr. Screamy Pants’ wrought iron perches messing up every shot?  And the lighting??  Talk about a challenge for a relatively new photographer, working out of her comfort zone (inside vs. outside) in a small space with a very scary creature who’s loose and could peck me to death at any moment.  And remember, I'm doing this for FREE.  What the hell was I THINKING signing up for this??  


At about that very moment, Sarah’s owner mentioned not to get too close to him because Cockatoos are known to slash faces.  SLASH FACES??!!!  I feverishly unscrewed my macro lens and put on my zoom.  I wasn’t about to get in THIS bird’s face.  But...Sarah must’ve liked having me so close to him trying to get my shots because as soon as I put my zoom lens on and backed up several feet (bumping into a wall.  Did I mention how small this kitchen was??), he started to scream again.  Yet another colorful swear word or two escaped my lips before I could catch myself.  I couldn’t HELP it!  He screams so loud and right out of the blue.  And the whole time he’s screeching, his owner is shouting over him that “He’s happy! He’s excited!”  Oh, goodie goodie...as long as Sarah's happy.
So I’m snapping away feverishly at this point, trying my best to get clear shots of this plain white bird against a plain white background without too much light blowing out the shots while he’s shrieking and bobbing up and down, while his owner is shaking a rattle and trying to get him to put his crest up.  To be honest, Sarah has a really nice crest of feathers that, when fanned out around his bobbing, screaming head looks pretty stunning.  So I started talking to him like I would a puppy:  “Oh Sarah....you’re such a pretty bird!  Show Auntie your crest, pretty Sarah!”  It was all I could do not to throw up or pee my pants, but an artist must do whatever it takes to produce her art, right?
As if all of this wasn’t enough, Sarah decided I was too far away from him and he wanted to come over and “see” me, so he wiggled his way down off his perch and was almost to floor level when his owner started shouting, “Here comes the Dyson!  Get back up on your perch right NOW, Sarah!  I’m getting the Dyson!”  What the.....?  I’m thinking, “has this bird sent his owner off the deep end or what?!” whilst said owner squeezes behind me (leaving nothing between me and the razor-beaked, scissor-clawed Sarah, mind you), opens a closet door and drags out the....vacuum cleaner.  This cannot be happening, right?  Apparently the bird is afraid of the vacuum cleaner and usually all it takes is the threat of bringing out the Dyson to send Sarah clawing his way back up to his perch. 

Once Sarah had gotten back up near the ceiling on his perch and I started to breathe again, his owner explained that Sarah has a history of attacking feet. (What was I thinking, wearing RED shoes today?!)  Apparently, a couple of owners back, Sarah lived with a man who wore work boots and when Sarah screamed his ass off, the owner would try and kick or stomp him with the those boots.  Not that I should be alarmed.  Or worried.  Just keep that camera clicking!!
To sum things up, I was at Sarah’s house for about 25 painful minutes and took about 700 shots.  Most of them aren’t usable but it only takes one good one to get what we need for the calendar.  God bless Sarah’s owner, who also owns a bunch of other birds housed in various cages around the kitchen and living room (I didn’t dare venture past Sarah to take a look for fear that she’d slash my face or bite one of my toes off).  I asked if he screams at night and she said, “Nope, he sleeps right through.”   I don’t know how she has any hearing left at all, living with him.  She did state with a bit of regret as she showed me out that she should’ve warned me to bring ear plugs.  Gee..you think?
Next up, I’ll be heading to Saco to photograph a leopard gecko.  Sweet dreams to me tonight....

Wednesday, September 5, 2012

Shrinking to Grow: A recap of my juice cleanse



  My 7-day juice cleanse officially ended on Sunday evening.  I simply could not write about it then...or the next day or the next.  Too strung out, emotional and depleted...it would not have been pretty and one of you might’ve sent the paddy wagon around for me.  Today, though, after two full days of nourishment (I’ll get to the details on that later), I am clear-minded and grounded and ready to spill the beans...or the juice, if you will.
Much of what I want to write about concerns the spiritual/emotional/mental goals and outcomes of the cleanse for me personally....but since a lot of my friends are serious athletes and cerebral types, I will first give the down and dirty details for those of you who are less touchy-feely than others.
Almost everyone we’ve chatted with about our cleanse was most interested in the weight loss aspect.  In seven days, I lost exactly 10 pounds; Michael lost 15.  So, in that respect, a juice cleanse certainly works for very rapid dropping of pounds.  That’s not to say it’s necessarily the best way to drop weight, but most of you don’t want to hear that, right?  For the first day and a half of our cleanse, we drank two 20-ounce juices and some salad/veggies.  After that, it was simply three 20-ounce juices per day straight through the remainder of the week plus as much water as we could literally stand to drink.  Don’t misunderstand the term “juice” as it applies to cleansing, folks.  This ain’t no ordinary juice!  Our gurus and guides (and therapists!) for our cleanse were the fabulous couple who own Mojo Health Bar on Rte 77 in Cape Elizabeth.  Philip and Jacqueline know what they’re doing and that was extremely important to us.  We put our health in their hands and they prepared our juices fresh daily, altering the mix according to our feedback (i.e. complaints about lack of energy, headaches, body aches, depression...and so on).  They have access to a steady supply of the best variety of vegetables and fruits and that, backed by their years of knowledge in food health and wellness, put us in the best of hands.  

What’s in the juice?  Lots of stuff.  On day one, it tasted great and went down easily.  As the week wore on, I could barely get it down, so sick was I of beets and kale and spinach and celery and carrots and ginger and....  You get the picture.  Sometimes when I’d see the color of my next 20-ouncer, I’d cringe.  “Ugh...it’s green.  That means kale!”  But I survived.  It was my only source of nutrition and I had to get it into me.  We’d go to Mojo and watch them shove whole carrots and apples and beets into the juicer, loads and loads of them, and then watch the thin stream of juice from those veggies and fruits piss out into the waiting pitcher...amazed at the quantity necessary to get that quality, raw juice for us.  Occasionally we’d also have a wheat grass shot (great for detoxifying your liver) or a ginger shot (for an energy boost) and the ratio of raw material to juice was again mystifying.  
How did we feel?  I was especially naive entering into this Juice Cleanse.  I’d done no research and had just some minimal conversation with my acquaintance who’d walked the road ahead of us.  That was enough for me: I just wanted to do it and get through it and live to tell the story.  In hindsight, that sort of caused some issues for me that could’ve been avoided.  The most important thing I learned is that you have to be very, very careful about how you use your energy.  I thought I could go to Bikram yoga like I normally would...so off I went on Tuesday night.  A 90-minute physically-grueling athletic endeavor in a 105 degree room is a lot to ask of yourself during a cleanse, even if it’s something you’ve done regularly for 8.5 years.  I still had energy from my pre-cleanse days and I used it all up on that one class.  I thought it actually helped me with my caffeine headaches and body aches, but honestly it depleted my reserves and left me very vulnerable.  I went again on Thursday night because I’m a bit driven (and stupid) and that is what might’ve put me over the edge.  For the remaining three days of the cleanse, I was just barely able to function.  I didn’t want to talk, move or even drink my juices.  I just wanted to sit in a chair wrapped in a blanket and wait for the end to come.  I wasn’t at all interested in eating again and wasn’t having fantasies of french fries and ice cream and pizza, but I was thinking about the smoothie I’d be able to have on Sunday and that’s really all I cared about.
If you are contemplating a juice cleanse, I’d highly recommend that you take a trip up to Mojo and visit with Jacqueline and/or Philip over a nice, healthy smoothie (my favorite is the Muscle XL with hemp protein powder).  They’ll be happy to enlighten you and certainly would love to make your juices for you if that would work for you.  There are also two other juice bars you could check out if you are nearer to the Portland area than Cape.  The Maine Squeeze on Moulton Street in the Old Port and Roost House of Juice on Free Street both offer juices and smoothies.  I have no idea if the staff are knowledgable so you’d have to ferret that out and fill in the gaps yourself by doing research into what juices you would need when and then ask for those specifically, perhaps.  My friend, Evan, made his own juices using a store-bought juicer and he’s had great success with his juice cleanses.  I don’t have access to him at the moment to find out all the details on that, but I imagine you could research recipes and advice on the net to prepare yourself if you go that route.  The local Farmers’ Markets could easily supply your fresh veggies and fruits, too.


Going forward, I am now on a mostly vegan/gluten free diet by choice.  No alcohol (easy for me), no coffee/caffeine (not so easy but I’m sticking to my guns), no added sugar (I can’t talk about that yet, too sad).  The juice cleanse prepared my body by detoxifying and resting my system.  Now I want to put only good things into it that will help me continue to lose a bit more weight, but more importantly provide the healthy fuel for my lifestyle and fitness goals.  So far, I’ve not had any real trouble making the switch, although I did need to add just a bit of lean red meat to my dinner last night to get my iron level back up.  Quinoa, soy yogurt, organic rice cakes, tons of fresh veggies and salads, nuts and fresh fruit are now my daily round.  I also add about 1/8 organic apple cider to my water intake, which according to Jacqueline helps my body use the nutrition in my diet more effectively.  It tastes good too.  I’ve been on a “regular” diet for 2.5 days now.  I had to ease into it slowly, with two smoothies and one small meal the first day, one smoothie and two small meals yesterday and so on.  Last night I went to yoga and had one of my best classes in as long as I can remember.  Pick up a 10-lb dumbbell and you’ll understand what I’m no longer having to carry through my postures.  I felt energized and lean and good.  I am still at the same weight I was on Sunday at the close of my juice cleanse.  Breakfast will include a Mojo juice (the Zinger...carrot/orange/ginger) in the 12-oz size for the next several weeks.  My goal is to lose another 4-5 lbs AND be strong and energetic in my work life as well as my athletic life.
So, all you cerebral, nuts & bolts folks and athletes who aren’t so interested in the inner workings of my mind and emotions are now dismissed, as that concludes the concrete stuff about the cleanse.  If you want to stay on board, you’ve been forewarned - it’s gonna get deep from here on out.
Shrinking to Grow.  That’s been the theme song accompanying all the moves and steps in my life for quite some time now.  Doing more with less.  Taking up less space.  Getting rid of superfluous junk.  Simplifying.  Shutting up and listening.  Getting down to what’s really important.  Tuning in.  Being Here Now.  My juice cleanse is a variation on that theme.  It’s all connected, I think.  Everything....EVERYTHING happens for a reason and there is a divine presence behind it all, orchestrating the music of our lives.  We are all just players...the world is the stage.  I know, I know....it all sounds so touchy-feely and mystical, right?  Welcome to my world.  Why hide the truth of who I am?  I am becoming the person I’ve wanted to be for so very long.  I am an introvert by nature...surprise, surprise.  I love connecting with you all in THIS way, through my writing and photography and art but the rest has been difficult.  Being “in the world” has been painful in many ways, and these attempts over the last many years to step away, simplify my life and make it honorable, to figure out who I am and what I want, have been awkward and uncoordinated but I’m on the road and feeling fine (today).  My camera is a great best friend and companion. 
With regard to this cleanse, I chose to jump in because I have been deeply unhappy in my body and in my life lately.  My choices in terms of food and drink wreak of addiction and mindless thinking.  It’s easier to reach for the fast food and junk than to mindfully feed myself and fuel my body.  I’d come to the end of the road with all that and wanted to step away for a week and detox not only my body but also my behavior and choices.  Not having to make food choices for a solid week gave me time to think about how automatic and reactive my behavior had become, how out of control and spiraling I’d been feeling.  Not cool at all.  And I was suffering for it.  Self-esteem has always, always been hard won for me, and here I was setting myself up to feel badly about “me” in so many ways.  My food habits just didn’t fit with my definition of myself, my goals, my values....so I stepped away for a week and drank only juice.  I was shrinking to grow.  To me, that means I was losing weight, yes, but also losing addictive behavior, resetting the clock if you will.  I was giving myself a jump start.  
After a week of not eating, I’m ten pounds thinner and I have a new chance to take better care of my temple, my body.  It was gruelingly hard at times but I never considered quitting or giving up.  I never wavered from my desire to be clean, to live cleaner and healthier.  I am now addiction-free and in recovery!  It’s a whole new world....  I start my day with a cup of hot water to warm me up (I was cold every day during the cleanse) while I write in my journal.  I’m doing the 12-week creativity-sparking program called “The Artist’s Way” with a trusted friend across the miles (she’s in VA) and finding my creative energy is on fire and burning for expression.    I am contemplating (and executing) many life changes to move boldly toward a more connected, meaningful life for myself.  This cleanse was the spark that got me back on track.  And I am hanging on through all the grieving that goes along with the cleanse and with getting myself in order.  It’s been a rough, rough ride.
Shrinking to grow has also resulted in immediate benefits for my yoga practice.  Last night, ten pounds lighter now, I was so much more mobile.  I had more energy, more clarity.  I was in control of my breath and took it slowly and easily.  I was a humble, quiet little warrior.  I’ve been practicing Bikram yoga for a lot of years now and I didn’t even own a scale when I started, but this weight loss makes me remember back to the beginning when I felt so good about my yoga.  It’s been a long, hard road.  
My goals as I move forward post-cleanse are to continue to tell the truth, to myself and others, no matter how scary that is; to be mindful and deliberate in making choices for myself...regarding food, relationships, business and life; to continue the “shrink to grow” theme in all areas of my life...including relationships, business, home life and creative pursuits; and to continue to love myself and others as best I can, practicing non-attachment and radical forgiveness every single day.  Namaste.