Tag Archives: Healthy Living

Making Pastry with Marina

22 Jun

It is a Friday evening here at Les Battees.  The slow pace of the week is giving way to more activity here on the weekend.  The four bedroom Bed and Breakfast style accommodation is booked full with guests attending a nearby wedding.  Roy, my host here at Les Battees, has begun cooking the evening vegetarian meal for the guests.

Roy’s mum, Marina, is preparing herself this weekend for her return to England.  Roy’s girlfriend, a French woman surrounded by a bunch of English speakers here at Les Battees,  is also visiting this weekend.  There is a fair amount of activity about.  A little bustling in the garden.   A little cooking in the kitchen.  But it is still the general laid back tone of Les Battees.

Earlier this week I spent a little time with Roy’s mum, Marina, in the kitchen.  She is a busy woman and easily leaves me in her dust.  She has been baking up a storm these past few days preparing to leave plenty of baked goods in her wake.  She was gracious enough to include an apple pie cooked with honey, not refined sugar, as part of her repertoire as I am sensitive to and cannot eat refined sugar.

I had asked her casually a few weeks ago if she would show me how to make pastry.  I was impressed with it because both she and her son Roy can make pastry like they are tying their shoes.  It seems to be just part of their kitchen language expressed easily and… around here… frequently.  Dessert is a house word at Les Battees and I have eaten my share since arriving a month ago.  From Marina’s apple pies to Roy’s homegrown rhubarb roasted with honey in the oven, my dessert palette has been well-tended to.

When Marina told me she was going to make her crust for the apple pie and asked if I wanted to watch… I didn’t pass up the opportunity.  I can’t say that I could repeat it, or do it on my own.  But here is what I learned.  Marina’s crust is made very simply… with self rising flour (or flour with baking powder added) and butter (Marina uses a combination of margarine and lard when making at home… but at Les Battees it is butter only!).  She told me she thinks it is better if you mix it by hand, but these days she uses a food processor.  So there she went, adding the flour and butter then lightly adding some water until the dough started to form and clump.

As she was cooking… here are the few things I noticed.  Her dough and recipe are quite simple!  She said some people add eggs, but she thinks no eggs makes a better pastry.  Additionally, when preparing her ingredients… how much flour, how much butter… she weighed everything.  That is one of my big cooking/baking revelations here in France (and I think all of Europe… for sure England).  They measure the quantities for their ingredients by weighing them rather than the standard cups and teaspoons used in American cooking.  A standard tool in their kitchen is the scale to weigh out how much flour or whatever ingredients to use.  I am told in England they also have the measurement of a cup, but it is not the same size as our American 8 fluid ounces cup.  My host Roy has a theory about all this.  He begins that Americans in their history were pioneers and that English and Europeans in their culture and lifestyle were much more settled.  Therefore an easy, portable measuring tool like a cup was convenient for pioneering American ways.  A scale, he suggests, was better suited for the  more settled, established European culture.  Roy offers that weighing is a more accurate way to measure as ingredients like flour can settle when measuring.  But still I am hesitant to give up my cup using, American baking ways.

And so the pastry was rolled and the apple pie was made.  Ultimately it was part of a collection of baked goods offered at a little summer solstice tea party here at Les Battees for a small assembly of neighboring English-speaking friends.  The real inspiration for the celebration was the birthing of Roy’s baby bees as Roy is an enthusiastic beekeeper. We took his word for it that the bees had hatched as none of us dared to take a close view for ourselves.  Mead was served, an alcoholic drink made from distilled honey, and cupcakes with little iced bees on the top.

And so it continues…life at Les Battees. The casual walks along the expansive countryside in my new backyard.  The occasional and somewhat awkward French interactions with Roy’s neighbors.  The continuing culinary inquiries at dinner… like what is the difference between a taco and a burrito… Ah, the complexities of American culture!

Tonight dinner will be served to our guests around 8pm and afterwards a little dinner for us.  It will likely be an early night as is somewhat typical here at Les Battees.   I am grateful for that… this easy, laid back way as I listen to the birds and see the sun and trees outside my open window.

Photo of my new backyard taken at Les Battees in southern Bugundy, France.

I Ate Cornbread in France

16 Jun

Dinner last night was great.  My host at the vegetarian Les Battees cooked up a hearty helping of lentil soup with a healthy serving of….cornbread, on the side. No, cornbread isn’t the latest trend in French cuisine.  It is however the latest curiosity of my host and native Englishman here at Les Battees.  With his professional history in food and science, he has an appetite for cultural exchange in the form of food.  A few weeks ago I made pancakes for him and his mum.  The week before it was blueberry muffins. This week it is cornbread.  I have to say he is taking the endeavor quite seriously.  He found a basic recipe online and used polenta as a substitute for cornmeal as it isn’t standard in France or in his cupboard.  Today he took a brief departure to the local bio store (bio is European for organic or whole foods) to purchase some cornmeal… for future cornbread making!

I find with my French immersion in the mostly English speaking Les Battees I am getting more and more English by the day.  Suddenly things seem a bit dodgy to me and I find myself saying I’m gong to the loo.  I don’t wince when I am asked if I’m standing in a queue and I don’t hesitate to say something is rubbish.  It is not a one way street, however, as yesterday my host’s mum asked him if he had taken out the trash can… a clearly American term.  I guess both ways, culture and language, it’s contagious…

We enjoyed a brief excursion today to a nearby village called Autun.  About 30 kilometers away, it was a quick car ride through the hills of Southern Burgundy in my host’s English car… ( that is, the driver on the right side of the vehicle while we drive, hopefully, also on the right hand side of the road… ).  It turns out that Autun dates back to Roman times with impressive architectural reminders throughout the town.  We visited the local Catholic cathedral, Cathédrale Saint-Lazare.  It is always inspiring to me to walk into a place of worship that is so old and that beautiful.  There was a class of children being given a tour while I was there, misbehaving and being given the evil eye by their teacher… a look that apparently is universal.

We spent a little time browsing local shops until noon when all French stores close down for a two hour lunch break.  Then we stopped for a coffee, enjoyed a little bit more of the fresh air and sunny day and made our way back towards Les Battees.  On the way we stopped at a local grocery store and made a few purchases from the International section.  It was interesting to see what food was available in the section… selections from Morocco, the Netherlands, English and Asian foods.  How was the good ol’ US of A represented?  There was a Tex-Mex section featuring a wide array of products by Old El Paso!

It’s great to be reminded that countries have different names in different languages.  Yes, it might be Germany to me, but in Germany they call it Deutschland and in France it is called Allemagne.  In the international section today, the Netherlands was listed in French of course, which is les Pays-Bas, which literally translates to low country.

Now I am safely and contentedly back at Les Battees.  It is late afternoon and the remainder of the day will likely consist of a little sheet ironing for the Chombre d’Hotes… one of my new favorite pastimes… really, it’s not that bad and kind of … relaxing. Later, there will be some vegetarian chilli eating for dinner.  Served, of course, with a piece or two of  “French” cornbread, prepared by an Englishman.  Delight!

New-bee

26 May

Here I am!  In France at Les Battees, the Chambre D’Hotes in Southern Burgundy that is my refuge in Europe for the summer.  Still adjusting to the fact that I am indeed… in France!

I took a bike ride today in the reasonable heat and inviting sun.  Les Battees is located about a kilometer away from a seemed endless canal lined with paths suitable for bicycling, jogging, you name it.  This was my first spin out on the bicycle since arriving a little over a week ago.  It was good to stretch my wings out a little under the warm French sun.   I rode about 4 kilometers up the canal.  A test run of sorts.  Getting used to the bicycle on loan for travelers at Les Battees. Still nurturing my ankle after my spill down a few stairs last week.  And getting a feel for “how far I can ride” as alas when heading in one direction eventually, you have to turn around and come back. Riding along the canal I passed clusters of homes assembled in a way that looks like perhaps a small village.  I passed many happy French cows, as for some reason they look happier and healthier here nestled among the French hillside than they do in the States.  I was passed by French roller bladers… leaving me in their dust.  They rode in tandem with one skater in the lead followed by their partner holding on to their backpack, skating nearly in unison.

Adapting to being in France is coming along.  The owner of Les Battees is English as well as his visiting mum so I am often “spoiled” by the ease of being able to speak my own language.  Although I have learned that English and American aren’t necessarily the same.  It’s not just the accent, but also the culture, context and even words.  On more than one occasion my host’s mom will innocently ask me a question only for me to look at her quite perplexed in need of a translation.  My host is well adept at switching to French when needed… greeting French guests or at least guests who arrive wanting/expecting to be spoken to in French while in France.

I have had the opportunity to speak meager sentences of French since arriving.  I am pulling out words from the remnants of my memory from high school almost 25 years ago.  I find that when I am listening to a french conversation while I recognize words and fragments, often I have no earthly idea of what they are actually speaking about.  But still when invited to speak French or there is an opportunity to speak a little French I admit I get a secret thrill.

Life here at Les Battees for me so far has been pretty simple.  My host seems to have a laid back attitude about work and a basic expectation of the work for me to do here.  His mother has a good motherly work ethic and likely keeps us both in check.  This past week has not been busy at the Chombres d’Hotes, but the weekend is booked full with guests.  When guests are here my host handles the simple breakfast of Croissants and coffee offered in the morning.  I get to step in to clean rooms and change beds when guests have left.  And then later in the evening while my host is preparing the meal, I do my best to help out in any way that I can.  My host likes to cook the meals mostly on his own.  So far I have chopped a strawberry here and there… but mostly I have been of assistance with serving the meal and cleaning up.

During the quiet of the week it seems that all three of us find our own way.  My host’s mother spending much of her time in the garden.  Often I take advantage of the luxury of a long morning… enjoy time with myself and chanting, reiki and yoga.  If there are rooms to be cleaned I tend to those, but sometimes there is not even that to be done.  I lend a hand with ironing sheets, pillowcases and duvet covers where there is ironing to be done.  And other wise I may find a little project to do in the garden.

One of my hosts favorite projects is tending to his bees.  When we are driving around the countryside he is ever on alert for the latest blooms in the area to tempt his bees.  A few kilometers from home we see bees lingering about… considering if they are his bees out at work.  Last night he got a call from Dutch friends down the street who also own and run a Chambres d’Hotes.  They had a bee swarm develop from a hive that was nestled within the wood floor of their building.  Ever the beekeeper, he responded with enthusiasm.  Apparently a hive swarms when there are too many bees and they are looking for a new nest.  So my host gladly collected the bees and is now feeding and nourishing them in the cellar.  His new-bees, as he likes to call them.

We all eat lunch and dinner together.  Lunch is usually a simple meal of whatever is left in the fridge.  Leftovers of yesterday’s dinner, bread and cheese, sometimes some humus and fresh veggies, perhaps a fresh salad.  And dinner has always been prepared fresh by my host.  He cooks every evening preparing some sort of lovely vegetarian meal.  Even where there are no guests to prepare for, with his cooking I always feel well fed.

Our guests here so far are from throughout Europe.  We have had guest from the Netherlands, England, Germany and of course France since I have been here.  Often we will join them for the evening meal.  It has been interesting to be around travelers from other countries and to be in a collection of people needing to agree on what language to speak.  I am fortunate that many people in Europe speak English, but there are times when segments of conversation are in another language and I am left in that foreign but somewhat familiar space of simply not knowing what is being said.

But here I am…a “new-bee” in France.  Not used to drinking much wine.  Still distinguishing bon soir from bon soirée. Enchanted by French cheese!  And spoiled by the warmth of the sun, the songs of the birds of Les Battees and the rolling hills of the quiet countryside of Southern Burgundy.

New Scenery

19 May

Well it’s hard to believe that I am in France.  It is amazing to me as an American that you can get on a train in Germany, travel ten hours or so and get out in a totally different world!

I am beginning to settle in to my new place.  It is called Les Battees.  It is a 19th century wine growers house converted into a Bed and Breakfast.  My host is a kind English man who moved here about 8 years ago to restore and run it as a business.  I am also enjoying the company of his mother here on an extended visit. So far life and work here has an easy leisurely pace.  There have been rooms to clean and some other work to do, but life seems to flow in a balanced way.

I find I am reluctantly turning in my German danke, ja and tchuss for French merci, oui, and au revoir!  It is a change and a delight to walk down the street and be greeted so casually with “bounjour”! I studied French in high school more than twenty years ago.  I am learning that if I pay attention I can successfully pick out words and understand fragments of conversations.  It is exciting to listen and learn, but it is also a little exhausting to swim in the language that is indeed very foreign to me.  Unlike Germany where I understood nearly nothing, I at least have a small glimmer of understanding French and will continue to “show up” in conversations to explore my comprehension and capacity to communicate.  My host here is English but has found his way pretty successfully through the French language.  It is fun to watch him easily switch from our regular English conversation to speak a visitor or on the telephone in French.  His mother speaks  English so once again I find I am living in a mostly English speaking cocoon.

I ventured out a few days ago as there was a quiet afternoon here with not much work to do.  I took a stroll to the near-bye village of Couches… a hearty walk away from Les Battees.  I was impressed with the rolling hills of the surrounding French landscape sitting there innocently unaware of their beauty.  After walking for a while and nearly to my destination, I reached a fork in the road with no sign pointing the direction of where to go.  Still getting my “french” legs and a little weary and nervous in my new space and transition, I have to say I “panicked”… just a little.  I waved down a Frenchman driving by and used a little French and pointed to my map to ask for directions.  He spoke to me in French and mostly… I did not understand him.  I picked out the few words I did understand ( “gauche”  means left) and headed in the direction he pointed.  I found myself back where I had started… but at least I wasn’t lost.  I retraced my path hoping this time I would find my way.  Alas, there I was again… at a fork in the road.  Luckily there was a couple outside and I did my best with a little French to address my needs.  She spoke.  I smiled a lot and felt clumsy in my mostly American language and ways.  But she rerouted me and happily I found my way to Couches.

A tiny village, my primary mission was to find the tourist office there to get a little information on surrounding bike routes and also events in the area for the summer.  I stopped by an Antique shop to ask for directions.  “Parlez-vous Englais”  I asked!  “Oui” he said and then proceed to speak in some English words, but mostly French.  I smiled like I understood and then continued down the road.  Still unsure of my route I found another friendly looking shop to help guide my way.  I was greeted by a friendly woman who sweetly led me down an alley clearly pointing me to my destination.

Today I took a stroll down a path behind my new “home” and made my way to a near-bye canal.  The canal is lined with a path suitable for bicycling, walking, roller blading… you name it!  The original path was used for the horses to pull the barges down the canal.  Today it is part of an impressive network of paths suitable for bicycling around the area.  My host has bicycles I can use so I am looking forward to spending some time there!

And for now… mostly I am… adjusting… to being in a new space, around new people, and in a new country.  I have already been awakened to the beauty of French cheese (oh my!) and French wine.  I have met a few of my hosts friends at a dinner party.  I have eaten wonderful vegetarian meals prepared by my host. And I am getting my French legs.  I admit I am a bit wobbly.  I even tumbled down a  couple of stairs the other night while carrying a few dishes down to the kitchen.  Ah, c’est la vie.  I suppose I just need to take it literally one step at time.  In the meantime, it’s good to be in France!

The little ways

7 May

It is a rainy day in Wettenbostel.  It is Monday after a busy Seminar Weekend.  The weekend felt intense and I am grateful for a rainy Monday… allowing a little quiet and rest to drift in.

It seems lately there is always something happening here at the Seminar Haus.  A party happening nearly every night and the energy of change in the air as the Seminar Haus prepares to close its doors in August and considers what is next. I am still accompanied in Wettenbostel by Dan, the American Reiki Master, and the young couple from Canada.  The Canadians have been here for the past month or so to visit, live and do work exchange. While Spring is blossoming in the garden… it is coming hesitantly with the last few days filled with cold breezes demanding the returns of jackets and scarves.

I continue to do my work here… my outer work… cleaning rooms, chopping vegetables, assisting in the kitchen. And my inner work of learning to pay attention and be present.  This weekend I got to make humus for the guests… a bit of a treat to be allowed that flexibility in the kitchen.   I also chopped up dozens of vegetables and mixed up a good salad or two.  Finding a joy in putting the green olives decoratively on the top of the salad then season and speckling the top with pepper.  Looks good and well, tastes good too.  Appreciating the pleasure of mixing the salad with oils, vinegar and seasonings feeling and seeing all of the ingredients come together.  And experiencing at least a degree of satisfaction of being pretty well prepared in the kitchen after nearly a year of working here.  It feels good to… mostly.. know what to do… For example… at the Seminar Haus kitchen… when you cut and chop the onions, a standard at most meals, you saute them in a little oil and always add plenty of garlic!  Then add herbs while sautéing and when it is nearly done… melt in some butter.  My host says it provides a better flavor and texture when you add butter.  Then the onions will be added to… something!  Often soup, or a sauce, or some other vegetable combination that has been prepared.

I had a new experience this weekend in my life of trade in Wettenbostel.  I got to mow the lawn!  It was a riding mower and the lawn is quite big nestled with windy paths in the garden.  My host encouraged me that I was doing a good job and I somewhat hesitantly lead the big machine around the yard.  Kind of a kick to find myself out mowing the lawn while the men of Wettenbostel were in the kitchen cooking.

It’s been fun having the “young” Canadian couple around.   They have a young fresh attitude and add an ample additional set of helping hands which makes the work around here feel… possible.  They will be leaving soon to head to their next adventure… teaching English in Thailand.  They leave sometime next week… the latest turn in their adventure of life and travel!

And me, well for today, I am going to do my best to enjoy some rest in the wake of the latest seminar and accompanying partying here at Wettenbostel.  In the quietness of my meditations I continue to hear an inner whisper… “I am learning a new way”… Sometimes feeling overwhelmed in all the twisting energy here and life and change… I wonder what is this new way I am learning.  But then I hear and I see and I am clear.  It’s the lesson of my namesake… St. Teresa the Little Flower.  Teresa is recognized as a Saint in the Catholic church and was a mystic in her own right.  She dedicated her life to serving God.  She is known for her attention to the little things… serving in the little ways.  She is quoted as saying “What matters in life is not great deeds, but great love.”   So I see in my journey I am learning my way in the little things of life.  And learning to be of service in the little ways.  One day at a time.  It is requiring of me patience, humility, learning to pay attention and learning to show up to myself and to my life.

Inner work.  Outer work.  And little ways. It’s just another day in Wettenbostel.

Photo from the gardens of the Seminar Haus Wettenbostel.

Friday the 13th

13 Apr

Another day in Wettenbostel!  The cool not yet spring air of April is invigorating as I find my way back to the little room where lately I have called my home.  I just finished eating a little dinner and enjoying the company of our visiting Canadians.  During dinner we were doused and periodically entertained by the injected energy of our host, Michael.  We are now complete with four residents here at the Seminar Haus with the return of Dan, porch companion, Reiki Master from Oregon and long-time resident here in Wettenbostel.

It is Friday the 13th and I wonder if that accounts for some of the strangeness of the day.  There is a new dynamic and energy here in Wettenbostel with our shifted collection of folks and my hosts returning from their week-long escape to Austria.  I’m noticing new ebbs and flows which sometimes have me feeling a little dizzy and sometimes feeling a little lost or left out in the cold.

Our new visiting Canadians are a young couple who have been traveling around Europe since September of 2011.  They found their way to the Seminar Haus through the on-line web-site helpx.net, a resource for work exchange for travelers.  They arrived at the Seminar Haus in the midst of kitchen chaos during the week-long Aikido workshop.  They seem to be doing a good job so far of riding the Wettenbostel wave… where you never know what will happen next.  Both are friendly, with big hearts and loving kindness.

The sun is starting to set on this Friday the 13th and I have to say I am glad for this day to wean away.  It has been filled with a mixture of emotions that I am ready to tuck into bed into the comfort of a good night sleep.  All is well in the land of Wettenbostel.  Things are shifting on the inside and out.  Somethings are clear.  Some things are uncertain.  And a new cast of characters assembled for now… falling asleep underneath the Wettenbostel moon on this night,  Friday the 13th.

Photo by me, gypsy woman, from the budding gardens of Wettenbostel.

Keeping it clean

22 Mar

It has been a sunny day at the Seminar Haus. It is such a relief to feel the heat of the sun penetrating in a way that actually warms and heats my body!  Ahh!  Feels good!

Things have shifted these past few weeks as the days get longer and warmer weather has brought some life back to the Seminar Haus.  Days are mostly no longer solo as my host has returned to bring his garden back to life.

This past week I was challenged by my host to wake up further from my winter slumber and step up more into action.  Some of it is a call for me to pay attention more… to the cleaning that I do.  Some of it is to pick up the pace of my work.  And additionally, some of it is a call for better communication… on my end and his.

To meet his request I am exploring sharpening some new skills…particularly those of cutting vegetables as we prepare meals for our guests during seminars.  Lately I have been somewhat… hesitant in the chopping department as I have been afraid I might slice and dice a finger instead of the vegetable of the day.  But, I will not give up!  Yes it is possible for me to learn to cut vegetables quickly like a pro… it’s just going to take some practice and some patience… on my part and his.  At the suggestion of a friend, I explored the web and found a friendly and informative you tube video that demonstrates chopping.  We did a little chopping today at lunch, the video and me.  And slowly and carefully, it seems this method may work and keep my precious fingers, if only in my imagination, from becoming part of the dish of the day.  Here is the video if you’d like to check it out!

But today was…. pretty good.  A little cleaning this morning and a new task later this afternoon of washing the windows in the “big dojo”.  The afternoon was completed with some innocent garden work – learning how to create an edge around the beds with the shovel.

So… it’s been a challenging week… coming out of the cold and meeting the call of Spring.  I am sharpening some skills, learning some new ones and continuing to practice my work around the Seminar Haus of keeping it clean.

Photo by Michael Hartley from the not quite spring gardens in Wettenbostel.

Love me tender

30 Jan

It is a juicy cold winter day in Wettenbostel.  The temperature is -6 degrees… luckily, that’s celsius not farenheit.  But still, it is cold enough. Bundled in wool, I love it outside, for a little bit. But mostly, I am grateful to be warm inside!

I cooked the most delicious food for myself today.  How is it that sometimes you can cook the simplest of things… broccoli stir fry and rice… and it tastes SOOO GOOD!  I have a little break in painting the ceiling of one of the seminar rooms, my latest task here at the Seminar Haus.  I ran out of paint.  Alas.  So in the meantime simply tending to a little cleaning in the kitchen.

As I bask in the warmth of the kitchen I hear the voice of my friend, Reiki Master and counsel, Elizabeth Ohmer Pellegrin, saying  “Use your alone time wisely” .  Hmmm… I find myself thinking.  What exactly is using my alone time wisely?  I think…in part…I am beginning to find that answer.

As I continue to listen to the story of Iyanla Vanzant on my new audiobook, Peace from Broken Pieces, her story unfolds and I listen intently.  The story has moved past the tragedy of her childhood and has blossomed into her world as a successful spiritual teacher.  What has struck me today as I listen is her spiritual practice of turning to God when she needs an answer for herself and her life. Guidance along her journey. Her practice is to immerse herself in prayer for 5 or 6 days until she feels she has an answer for herself and her life.  That is it, I thought today.  That is wise use of my time… going within, using the tools of my spiritual practices, to nourish myself and to seek and explore what it is I need to know for myself and my life at this point in time.  I check in with the Tarot cards, an old friend and confident.  They agree as they reveal to me the Hermit card… a time for being alone and connecting deep within.

When I was a child I used to have this sort of unusual experience.  The word I used to describe it was feeling like I was in a straw, like a vortex of energy was slipping and sliding right through me…and I was part of it.  As I grew older my recollection of this feeling came and went.  And then one day… it revisited.  I was assisting at a course taught by Landmark Education known as the Wisdom course.  One of my favorite courses in the Landmark curriculum, it was a series of powerful weekends that span over the course of a year.  As someone who was assisting… my role, my function was to be of service to the course and the participants.  The role of assisting during a course always keeps you hopping.  Being present, paying attention, and being available to do what is needed to make the course happen.  Whatever it takes.

It was during the course that I felt this feeling again.  This straw-like notion swirling through my body.  Now a little older than when I was a child, I at least had some modicum of wisdom to be able to pay attention to what it was that I was feeling.  That feeling, that sensation I could discern was oneness, our “we-ness”, that space in the cosmic soup where there is no you or no me… but we.  And it is my understanding that I was able to experience that feeling once again during the course in the context of authentically being of service.  Giving of my heart and giving up my me to be in service to others.  In that space, the I or me just kind of slipped away and what was there?  We!

That moment was a spiritual breakthrough for me.  It reminded me that our spiritual essence has been connected to me my whole life.  I have had that feeling, that straw-like sensation on a few more occasions since then.  Sometimes I experience it during a Reiki treatment.  … and ultimately it seems that is what I am returning to… like a slippery slide.

So here I am…being a Hermit in Wettenbostel.  In the still darkness of winter. A little breath of sun today as the temperatures get a bit more frosty.  Taking time out for a few earthly pleasures like yummy food and, okay, watching a movie or two on my computer.  But intently basking for a few days in my spiritual practices… Reiki, chanting, A Course in Miracles and yoga… exploring that deep place within.  Ah, feels so good.  Feels like some love.  Some time just to…love me… tender.

Photo by me from the snowy fields of Wettenbostel

Twas the night before Christmas

24 Dec

It is December 24. After a full day of train travel yesterday,  I am now back in the cool and open land of Wettenboste in Northern Germanyl.  My home away from home.  All of my other Wettenbostel playmates are nowhere to be found.  And, aside from a few visits from Michael, one of my hosts here whose home is a few blocks up the street, I have the place all to myself.  A little intimate time with me and the seminar haus!  I have a fire going in the fireplace, prepared a nice meal for myself, and have some good music playing on the stereo.  I even made some homemade apples-sauce today!

It is the night before Christmas… or perhaps in Germany it IS Christmas… it’s hard to say.  I do know that in Germany they do their gift giving on the night of the 24th, rather than December 25.  Presents arrive from Santa Claus, much the same as in the United States.  “But how”, I asked Imke, my host while visiting the Black Forest, “does Santa Claus come when the kids are still up?”  She described a typical diversion.  One parent thinking they saw Santa Claus and the reindeer outside, attracting the children while the other unloads the presents, mysteriously appearing from Santa Claus.  Santa does not come down the chimney in Germany.  According to Imke, some families say that it is the Christ child, not Santa Claus who delivers the presents.  Now how this little child does this we do not know… probably about as easily as Santa Claus does with his sleigh and flying reindeer!

As a child growing up, Christmas was spent flooded with family visits.  My dad’s mom and dad on Christmas Eve… my mom’s mom on Christmas day.  And later that day a BIG celebration at one of my mom’s uncle’s homes.  As the years have passed traditions have changed.  Families have shifted and now it is my parents who are the grandparents.  And me, living miles away from my family, well, I have often been on my own for the holidays.  Sometimes being adopted by the families of friends, or spending time with other “orphans” as we lovingly called ourselves… over the holidays.  This year in the midst of my wanderings I am content to have a warm welcome place to be for its duration.

So, as this Christmas Eve slips its way into Christmas Day, I will be tending the fire in the Seminar Haus and thinking of all the wonderful people, family, new friends and old, all over the world, who help to tend the fire in my heart.  Namaste and Merry, Merry Christmas!

Full

22 Dec

It has been a juicy few days here in the Black Forest.  A good balance of new experiences, and some of the comfort of home.  The hills of the Black Forest are greeting me from my window.  The sleet and rain tempting me to stay warm and comfortable inside.

I am coming to my last few days in the Black Forest with Michael and Imke.  Changes always met with mixed emotions.  Yesterday their daughter Skadi gave me an art project she made, a hedgehog called in German “igel” (pronounce eagle!).  It is little things that I notice and I am grateful for.  It has been nice to be surrounded by the warmth and, well, the reality of a family.  Michael and Imke have shown me that life can be simple… even with responsibilities.  Even in the midst of the chaos of having a family and small children.  And they have shared their experiences, their “german-ness”, and their interests generously and lovingly with me.

Here is a little snippet of German culture I learned yesterday… Michael got a haircut… and I asked Imke… “did Michael get a haircut?”  “Yes,” she said.  And added, “In germany, when someone asks if you got a haircut, you respond..’no, I fell down the stairs…!”  What?.. Now, I can’t say that I exactly “get it” , but I like it.  Shortly after I arrived at their home, I used the statement, “That is not my cup of tea..” and Michael offered that in Germany instead they say “that is not my beer..”  Okay, sure.  Why not? And it continues…

Yesterday I took a long stroll again through the near-by path in the valley of the Black Forest in Hilpartsau.  A recent discovery with the direction of Imke.  I was just amazed taking in the beauty… so different from the nature and landscape of Louisiana.  Strong, powerful streams, hills flooded with trees… and these great big… birds!  I first spotted one on the top of the building.  It was there, larger than life, unmoving and I thought… Is that real?  I stopped, and watched, and then… it moved!  Big beautiful bird.  It looked similar to birds I have seen in Louisiana, but bigger, and well… different.  There was a man heading up the path way and I stopped him asking… of course, “do you speak English?”  He nodded and then spoke in a friendly way, but mostly in German!  He offered the name of the bird, “reiher” he said.  I learned later that in English this means heron and it was a grey heron, popular in this area.  I repeated trying to mimic his expression.  And from there on, he became my guide through the woods.

Listening to someone who does not speak the same language as you takes a lot of attention.  He was very friendly and willing to communicate with me using expressions and acting out and pointing when necessary.  He had a few English words in his vocabulary, and I had a few German words in mind so between the two of us we communicated… perhaps!  There was just a small moment when he was speaking in German that I actually understood what he said.  I could pick out the few words that I knew and fill in the blank.  I felt, a little… successful!  But beyond that it was often just unknown to me.

We came to the end of the trail in the next village… a point where all I knew was to turn around and go back.  As a good guide he insisted I follow him and we headed into town just a little bit, then up some stairs and headed towards the hills heading back towards Hilpartsau where  we came from, but from a different view.  I loved walking amongst the hills and was surprised to find that the sometimes silence walking with this stranger was not uncomfortable.  We went to a spot that had a lovely view of the next town and then he showed me the trails in the dirt from the wild pigs that come out at night.  And then, eventually, when we returned to almost home we smiled and parted ways.  “Next time” he added in German and through demonstrating with his hands  “we need to bring an English/German dictionary!”

The night before I found myself basking in the welcoming hospitality of  Beate and Lefteri who live in a village not far from Hilpartsau.  They are a  German couple, Lefteri of Greek heritage, and members of SGI, a Buddhist organization of which I am a member.  I called them through a contact of a friend of a friend.  Originally I left a message on their answering machine in slow spoken English, hopeful there was an English speaker on the other side.  Later that day I received a friendly return phone call, directions and times for the train, and a welcome invitation to their home for the SGI gathering.  I arrived the next day  in the early evening, greeted by Lefteri at the train and was welcomed by their warmth and gentleness at their home.  There was one other member there, Andy, and their two children.  We chanted together and then shared a little personal information about ourselves and our experience with SGI and Buddhism.  We were gathered on the comfy floor surrounded with a fluffy carpeting and a variety of pillows.

They were generous and curious about me and my experiences and lovely in their sharing about themselves and Buddhism.  They spoke English and told about their beginning with chanting and Buddhism.  I was reminded through the conversation the importance of the practice is responsibility for the self and our own lives, no matter what our challenges or experience.  That is why we chant everyday… returning to and connecting with that greater larger self known in Buddhism as “Buddahood”.  We are all powerful, all part of the great whole.

Afterwards, we gathered in the kitchen for a bit and enjoyed some conversation and some good bread, greek cheese, olives and other goodies.  Beate sharing that when they went to Greece to visit family, the parted with a large chunk of Feta…to get them through the winter!  We took time to share a little about our lives, about America and Germany.  Our understandings and experiences.  And then it quickly was time to catch my train.

I returned home to Imke and Michael’s to receive an email from Beate and Lefteri.  A gentle reminder of the connection and time that we had.  A feeling extended like a warm blanket encouraging me as I continue on my journey.

I am almost packed for my departure from Hilpartsau.  Still secretly hoping that I get into the Vipassana retreat that starts tomorrow… I am on a waiting list and have been holding out making plans in hopes that a list minute opportunity comes my way.  But one way or the other, either the retreat or return to Wettenbostel, it seems I will be leaving tomorrow.  The bittersweetness of good time spent and the interest of new times to come.

The children are bustling downstairs and I imagine Imke is preparing a meal for lunch.  Imke is a great cook.  The food we ate the other day was so good I could almost scream.  “What is it that you put in your food? ” I asked.  She responded, matter of fact, that it’s love.  And its true.  I can feel it and taste it… that”x” factor.. something undefined in the food that invites you in to enjoy it.  And so with that… with the good experiences and good loving, nurturing food I have enjoyed here I find I am … full.  Full as I prepare to leave the Black Forest.  Well fed.  In many ways.