Want

Last week I covered a Social Studies class with some of our sixth graders.  They are currently studying ancient India and we got to talking about the foundations of Buddhism and its influence on Asian culture.  The kids reminded me of Buddhism's big idea - that spiritual actualization and unburdened happiness could only be achieved by shaking the yoke of desire from our lives.  I don't think I ever really understood what that meant until recently.

It's so easy to live in this country and spend all your time looking up: to want a bigger apartment or house, to want more money or more things, to want and want and want until all you have to show for yourself and your life is stuff.  I am no different - I sometimes expend so much energy gazing upward that I forget about what is right in front of me.  I once read some article that cautioned people about the dangers of "as soon as."  As soon as I get a new car, I'll be happier.  As soon as I get a promotion, things will get better.  The truth is that most of us could think of scores of these types of statements pretty easily.  So I've decided to make the conscious and deliberate effort to stop this habit.  It's not easy, especially in this hyper-commercialized and materialistic society.  Have you seen this?  It was all over the place one day about a week ago when I happened to be feeling pretty down.  It's funny and does help to lift the spirits.  Remember this John Mayer song?  It's from the great movie Bucket List, and there is one part that really resonates with me:

Take all of your so-called problems

Better put 'em in quotations

Blessed.

Truth, Mr. Mayer.  Lately I have reminded myself: my life is freaking great, and I have no reason to ever feel sorry for myself.  Seriously - never ever.  God and my parents have always given me everything I need.  Therefore, I conclude that nothing could ever be so bad that I am justified in sulking around or complaining about my "so-called problems."  (And I don't mean to imply that your problems are also pointless and stupid, but mine are! This is me judging myself only.)  So next time I am having a bad day, or feeling the pressure of my first-world wants and my white people problems, I'm going to skip that cute website with pictures of funny animals and just remember the I haves.

I have love all around me from an amazing husband and the best family on the planet.

I have been born into extreme, undeserving privilege, where I have an unfair advantage over the vast majority of the world's population just by existing.  

I have plenty of money to put a roof over my head, feed myself good food, and buy superfluous stuff that I don't even remotely need.

I have wonderful friends and a really sweet dog. 

I have a fun, rewarding, and challenging job that keeps me on my toes and makes me a better person every day.

I have a great life.  

So many people have so much less, yet I want.  I don't know if I'll ever extricate myself from desire all together, but the simply process of remembering what I have is extremely helpful and does make me/keep me a very happy person.  So, shucks, I'm not yet enlightened and I haven't reached nirvana - not even close - but I have plenty of time to get there.

Reclining Buddha knows Nirvana.  Me not so much.

Married!

When Mike and I first got engaged, the outpouring of excitement was almost unmanageable.  Everyone freaked - in the best way possible of course.  I remember my cousin (Emily) telling me to enjoy the engagement, as it would go by very quicky and is a very lovely time.  Several others expressed the same sentiment.  My mental response was one of vague confusion - Mike and I have lived together for several years and have been a couple for quite a few more, so I sort of saw the whole "getting married" thing as not much more than a big party.  No big deal.

Wrong.  If we had gone to city hall, maybe it would have been no big deal.  Nothing is changing now that we're legally married.  We are still the same silly couple we've been for nearly a decade.  However, even though Mike has always been a part of my family long before it became official, and visa versa, things for our families have undergone a transformation of sorts.  Let me back up a minute.  I come from an atypically close knit crew of aunts, uncles, cousins, second cousins, great aunts, grandparents, grandparents-in-law, etc, and one of my uncles always says that it's not just because we all live close by that we are the way we are; it takes an effort on everyone's part to make time together.  It takes Monday night dinners and Saturday barbecues, and getting on a train to a rained out yankee game together.  Ok, it's not an extra job, it's the best part of most weeks, but it's still an effort. But even with a family like mine, you need a time and space to celebrate the really good things about life, and that's what our wedding turned out to be.  We are a pretty consistently happy group of people (though I can't say I was always on the bandwagon here; the fact that everyone put up with that brat I used to be is amazing!) but at our wedding I saw most of the family happier than I can ever remember seeing them.  Most everyone was already married by the time I was born or really little, so I don't remember many family weddings before my own, and the overflow of joy was truly unprecedented. (Everyone at that wedding really knew how to party, and God bless them for that!)  Of course I was thrilled to be marrying the greatest person I know, but what put it over the top was really the collective love and happiness.  Any bride who seriously thinks her wedding day is only about her is crazy and won't have nearly as awesome a time as I did.

Woohoo!
Photo credit: Uncle Ward Haskell

Everyone says that your wedding day is one of the best days of your life, but it's less commonly talked about that the days, weeks, and months leading up to and following the wedding are also some of the greatest ever.  The engagement is over, the honeymoon is over, and I could not imagine being happier.

One is silver, the other is gold

It's no easy task to maintain great friendships.  After all, we're no longer high schoolers or college students with little to no real responsibilities.  Theoretically, we are grown-ups: with bills, jobs, and families (or at the very least dogs, cats, boyfriends, and girlfriends).  When you are in school there is nothing to do but make friends and build relationships, and you take that constant state of socialization for granted when you're in the thick of it.  As a so-called adult I find myself far less likely to pick up the phone or spend time outside of work with any human being other than Mike.  Let's face it, living with your best friend can be a real detriment to your other relationships even though it is also the world's greatest blessing.  On almost any day I am perfectly happy to return from work, walk my dog, and work around the house until it's time to go to bed.

But then there are those times when you do connect with your people and you do have conversations about all the things that don't matter at all but somehow actually matter the most.  There are the times when you have a meal with a new(ish) friend and get to know them better, or the times when you gather with old friends and they fill the room with more laughter and joy than thought could fit.  We all have our own lives, our own worries, and our own responsibilities, and it's easy to lose touch or to never get in touch to begin with.  Still, we should count ourselves lucky to have people in our lives that are new and different.  And we should all be so blessed as to have the kind of old friends who can make you feel like no time has passed since you were still just growing up, even though it may have been months or even years since you've last seen them.

Over my spring break, I was lucky enough to be in the presence of a few of these kinds of friends.  I am always amazed at how, with so many of my old friends, we can just pick up where we left off in high school or college.  When you're in school, you see your people every day and you are too young and crazy to feel awkward or self-concious about anything.  Upon reuniting as adults, you go back to being young and crazy and forget about the pettiness that makes you so selective with friendships now.  Don't misunderstand, I love my life the way it is now, and I cherish my new(ish) friends.  I wouldn't go back to being 14 or 18 or 21, but I'm so glad that I can bring back the very best parts of those years every once in a while.

PS I stole the above photo from our friend and soon-to-be wedding photographer, Carlos Thomas.  (The first one was taken by none other than Mama Hask.)

Almost Vegetarian Delight

I made an awesome dinner tonight.  I mixed up some stuff I bought at the supermarket today with some stuff I had lying around: the recipe is simple, delicious, and healthy.

Kale and Goat Cheese Quinoa 

makes 4 huge servings

1 cup quinoa

2 tbsp balsamic vinegar

1 slice bacon

1/2 cup of sliced mushrooms, any kind

2 tbsp extra virgin olive oil

2-3 cloves of garlic, minced

big bunch of kale or swiss chard, leaves removed and coarsely chopped

1 can garbanzo beans, drained 

1 can cannalini beans, drained

4 oz. goat cheese, divided

Prepare quinoa as directed on the box.  Meanwhile, add bacon to a hot pan and cook until crispy.  Remove and set aside.  Add the mushrooms to the pan and saute in the bacon drippings, adding olive oil if necessary to coat.  Add garlic to the pan and cook until fragrant, about a minute.  Chop up the bacon and add it back.  Add greens and about a tablespoon of water.  Stir, cover, and cook until the greens wilt and become soft.  Add both cans of beans.  To the quinoa, add the balsamic vinegar and stir.  Combine the quinoa and the kale mixture in the pan.  Serve with goat cheese crumbed over the top of each bowl.  YUM. 

Mike left for London last night and I have been finding notes from him all over the apartment  Like this one, which he left in my top drawer.  

When he's gone I am more grateful for him than ever.  Not just because he walks the dog in the mornings and takes our the garbage, but because he is just so much fun to be around and I have come to rely on his company.  Lola and I will both be happy to have him home in a week.  

Eight

As of today, Mike and I have been together for eight years.  That's two away from a decade, and amounts of one third of my life so far.  Pretty nuts.  Eight November 18th's have now come and gone and I still think celebrating anniversaries is dumb unless you're married.  I mean really, to commemorate the awkwardness of a high school conversation a la Zach Morris and Kelly Kapowski?  Dumb.  ("Wanna go steady" was not, thankfully, the exact wording that was used.) What's certainly not dumb is everything that has happened since.  Or that in this eighth year we'll be getting married.  I still couldn't care less about the date or the anniversary, but eight is going to be a pretty awesome number.