Follow your gut?

I was asked today to follow my gut, and realized that I lost contact with that creative, intuitive, spontaneous side of myself awhile ago. I'm at the precipice of making a big life decision, and I don't even know what my gut instinct is telling me? Okay, so that's not entirely true, but this decision-making process does not feel simple like I've know intuitive decisions to feel before. It feels fraught with details and complications...

I'm reminded of a an experience I had this past summer at Dreamtime. As is customary every year, the festival organizers get up onstage, and say a little something. This past year, one of the organizers, walked us through a guided visualization where we stepped into our full, vibrant, creative, spontaneous, empowered selves. In that moment I knew that returning to graduate school in the fall, was not the right life path. I cried with the shock of that realization. And sat with it for a couple days, and realized that I'd put so much time, energy and money into this whole graduate school thing, it would be absolutely silly, in so many ways, to stop now - especially because I was so near the end.

Well, apparently, the end is not soon enough, nor where I thought it was.

For the last four months, I've been interning on a hospital psych unit for children and adolescents. I felt alive, excited, and vibrant the first week or so I was there. After the (very brief) honeymoon period was over, I've dreaded getting up in the morning to make the long trek down to the hospital. This dread was not about the commute (although it can be horrendous) but about the constant fear, inefficacy, and overwhelm I've felt.

In a meeting this morning, I was presented with an ultimatum of sorts: commit to the internship at the hospital, or leave, take a break, reapply in March, and restart my internship next fall, at the hospital or elsewhere. I have one week to make my decision.

My gut instinct says "LEAVE! Take time to nurture and resource yourself. Get clear on your goals and intentions of becoming a therapist, and try doing this again in the fall." And there's this other nagging voice that says, "But aren't you running away, and not facing all of your fears and issues about stepping into this professional role by leaving and not finishing what you've started?"

As I perhaps prepare to not finish what I started, I'm reminded of the guided visualization this summer - how clear the "not returning to school" bit felt, and how I didn't listen. It's been muffled, silenced, stuffed, rearranged, ignored, and severely neglected, yet that voice has been there all along. With all it's been through, the voice has gotten softer, less sure of itself, but remains none the less. And while it seems I may have to strain to hear it, I hear it now and am willing to listen...

Locavore?

I have beans soaking on the counter. Buttermilk biscuit batter soaking as well (with homemade raw buttermilk, I might add).

I have more veggies than will comfortably fit in the fridge waiting to be processed for freezing. I've decided to eat only local produce all winter. This decision was influenced by several factors. Reading Animal, Vegetable, Miracle this summer I was inspired by Kingsolver's stories of growing her own. I also realized about a month or so ago, that I ate only fresh produce from the Farmer's Market all summer. This was not an intentional decision really. It just sort of happened that way. It just made more sense to give my business to local farmers than to large grocery store chains. I walked into my local Whole Foods one day, after reading Kingsolver's book, with the intent of buying apples. I picked up a shiny looking Fuji and read the sticker. It was from New Zealand. I decided then that I would forgo that apple in place of something that was a) actually in season , and b) at least grown in this country. I don't remember what fruit I decided to buy that day, but I do remember the determination and commitment I felt the moment I decided to leave the apple on the shelf.

As the height of summer has come and gone, and harvest season is nearing its end, I'm sitting with some questions about my commitment to local produce for the winter. One big question arose recently while attending a friend's birthday party. The party was catered by a local company with delicious looking and smelling food. However, as I was eating my salad made from grocery store lettuce and spinach, I noticed how different these leafy greens tasted to my usual Farmer's Market fare. Not only were they not as fresh, crisp, and sweet as I was used to, but they also did not feel alive. I'm not sure how to adequately describe this observation, but my body noticed. I felt it on a visceral level. My cells knew the difference. When offered a meal with produce not supplied by a local source, do I choose to accept it? Being an unemployed graduate student, this question feels like a bit of a no-brainer.

Yet when I so obviously notice the difference in taste, texture, and nutrients between an apple from a friend's orchard, and one a friend offered from the grocery store, it causes me to wonder... For now, I plan to accept non-local produce from those who offer it (who can resist having dinner made for them every now and again?) while starting conversations about my decision. Maybe a seed will be planted (pun intended!).

A more recent trip to Whole Foods, brought up another dilemma. What exactly do I consider produce? I'd been eating raisins in my cereal lately, and was out. Do I consider raisins produce? They are dried , so the fresh thing isn't much of an issue. It also means they weigh less which means they take less energy to ship across the country. However, they still are being shipped. Plus, another intent of eating local is to eat with the seasons. Rather than eat the New Zealand apple in May (which is definitely NOT apple season here), I've opted to find fruit that was in season. As winter approaches and the abundance of summer wains, I continue to sit with these questions.

While I'm choosing this eating adventure, I imagine that the time will come, sooner rather than later, where I won't have the choice to eat local - it will be all that is available. Knowing where the alley plum trees hide, or where the sweetest apple tree is, or how many frosts a pumpkin can tolerate will be a necessity, not just a fun experiment.

In the mean time, anyone know if Bok Choy freezes well?

More moving

Seems fitting that my last post was titled, "On moving deliberately". As I am now moving, deliberately (and literally). The time has come to put more permanent home-like roots in Boulder. I've been in my house for a year and a half, and while I've never fully felt at home here, I've made a home for myself in Boulder with an ever widening community and circle of friends. What a blessing that I now also have a place where I can feel at home at home.

On moving deliberately

On the bus ride home today, I began thinking about a comment a friend made the other day. She said, "I choose to focus on the love in relationships rather than the sticky stuff". This perspective feels like a substantial paradigm shift for me. With that, I want to make a practice of writing down what felt successful after each day I'm at the hospital. So much of my energy is often spent examining what did not feel successful in order to learn from it. Seems as though much learning can also be gleaned from successes. Plus, it helps bring lightness to my day. :-)

I seem to be leaving the hospital lately with this sense of satisfaction and devotion to
this work. Ahh...how relieving this feels.

I've been reading "Stranger in a Strange Land". There has been much talk lately about moving quickly without rushing. I've been practicing this idea all day. It's amazing how much more smoothly my day seems to go when I'm deliberate about my time and move - sometimes quickly - without rushing.