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My eyes scanned the day’s speedily written to-do list, outlined
fetchingly in black crayon.

I looked at my mood indicator on myspace, where I had for unknown
reasons declared I wanted to explore the river, but I wasn’t exactly
sure what that meant. On my list of “to-do’s” I had written “collect
wood” so I figured that would combine with river exploration.

I read a quote from Maya Angelou and again, wondered what
syncronicity was doing tap-tap-tapping on my heart.

“A woman in harmony with her spirit is like a river flowing.
She goes where she will without pretence and arrives at her
destination prepared to be herself and only herself.”

The only two things on my daytime carved in time-allotted stone
schedule were a phone call and to be home when Sam was due
back from school at 2:45. The phone call was to be at 9:00 o’clock,
nice and early, with my friend, Stephanie, who agreed to talk to me,
deeply and soulfully once a week while I dealt with some of this “stuff”
of life that came as a part of my reawakening. I felt like I hadn’t “done”
enough to merit a conversation of substance.

I stood back for a bit, though, prior to the prearranged time for our
phone call and I discovered that lo-and-behold there had been a lot
of growth this week, that I had taken what we had talked about
before and integrated much of what we spoke of and
amplified it… many fold.

I had gotten stuck in my self-critical inner dialogue of the day before
and lost sight of the beauty and wonder of the preceding six days.

“I just don’t feel like I have big enough swaths of time and yet I know
that isn’t so, I mean, I am aware that I make that up, that the swaths
aren’t wide enough… I know this lack based thinking is just creating
more lack rather than abundance… and… I mean…” and I tap danced
in circles of belief and misbelief during our conversation.

I continued speaking: “I just need more time in silence, and study,
and contemplation.” I told her. “I have felt such grace, such abundance
since we last spoke,” I said as  I told several stories of receiving,
abundantly, simply as a result of me being 100% myself – not trying
to get anything accomplished in particular or aiming at a particular
intention beyond simply being me and doing exactly what
my heart called me to do.

Maya Angelou floated back into my mind.

“A woman in harmony with her spirit is like a river flowing. She goes
where she will without pretence and arrives at her destination prepared
to be herself and only herself.”

The river was calling.

I climbed into my beloved Ford Explorer, Jane, and started to
drive east.  Live Oak, Live Oak, Live Oak was a chant running through
my veins – the echo of my heartbeat itself.

Live Oak is a daytime use section of the Sequoia National Forest, five
miles into the Kern River Canyon. I hadn’t been there since July and I
was curious how it was during the winter as compared to the Summer.
I figured the flow of the river would be satisfying given all the rain
and snow we were having.

I was excited.

Jane started making a sound I thought was weird and I felt fear grip me.
“Maybe I shouldn’t go to the river. Maybe it isn’t God calling, maybe I
should get an oil change first, maybe I should turn around, oh it looks
dark in the canyon, maybe I am going to get into an accident if I
drive in, maybe....maybe.....maybe.....”

The circle dance of belief and misbelief was taking up residence
in my belly.

“Maybe you should tune into that silence you said you wanted,” a
whisper-thought came into my heart.

I heard the Live Oak chant again as my car entered the canyon.

I drove into the call of the Canyon, into the call of the river. I drove
into the darkness of my fear. My heart was pounding rather loudly in
the fear places and I wasn’t comfortable at all as I drove into the
mouth of the Canyon. It was dark, the fog closed behind me – a door
shutting my escape, and I surrendered to the call.

I uncomfortably surrended, as Teresa of Avila reminded me,
“Surrender requires courage.”

The road was beautifully empty so I felt no pressure to go fast
along the curves. I could take my time and really see what I was
passing in each moment. I started to relax into my heartbeat
and to the rhythm of the call itself.

A red car came up behind me and the “Live Oak” chant became
“take a turn out” so I did and the red car behind me happily tooted
a “thank you” horn as it moved past me towards its destination.

I was almost sad when Live Oak arrived so quickly.

I took the “Road Closed” into the parking lot as a set back until
I realized there was a ready-made turn out parking spot to use so
I parked Jane and climbed out and just stood, stood, stood for a
moment breathing the chilled, crisp air.

I spent, in “human time” about 45 minutes by the River. I didn’t
need an enormous “swath of time” in which to experience soul
fulfillment. I could have stayed there for a lot longer, but there
wasn’t a need. I was able to celebrate the sounds of squirrels,
the sight of a tiny bird with yellow and green in its very small
flight across the sky. I was able to celebrate the sensual aroma
from an enormous pinecone, the sweet kisses of the wind on
my face and the divine direction telling me which path to take,
which tree to honor with my touch, my prayers, my tears.

In following the call into the canyon, I slashed out sections
of misbelief that were whining or complaining or coming
remotely close to anything labeled “less than” or “not enough”
 or “I don’t have” or “I can’t.”

This very short “field trip” away from my cocoon like home
brought me to astounding levels of awareness and presented
me with a gift that I can continue to pass around to my friends,
my beloved readers, to complete strangers who happen upon
these words and say, “Yes, this is good.”

I tooks letters hastily scrawled on a black crayon written to-do
list and leveraged what was there and followed it to slicing through
fear and into the expansive soulfulness of simply being in the moment.

Passion rang out from the crayon, it was in the machete-like movement
of my car into the canyon, it is in being bold and courageous when I didn’t
particularly feel like being bold and courageous when I trusted
in the rhythmic call and kept moving forward anyway.

And I am so grateful I did.

This story repeats itself countless times in my life.

And each time it is richer and deeper and sweeter. I never fail to be amazed,
awestruck, grateful and so glad I am exactly who I am with exactly this
perspective in exactly this moment.

I hear Maya speaking again.

“A woman in harmony with her spirit is like a river flowing. She goes
where she will without pretence and arrives at her destination prepared
to be herself and only herself.”

Yes, Yes, Yes – so be it.
 

I was surprised at all the responses to my quest for soup blog so I wanted to share with you further adventures in my quest to get a bowl of warm, hearty soup... since somehow "out there" wasn't where it was to be found.

It was rather syncronistic that my friend, Keely, invited me into a Crock Pot challenge... a group of women who also blog and also take photos... to come up with a Crock Pot recipe every week which we will then share the recipe and photograph.

I am a nut with my camera, ask me about one of my photography goals and I will be off, running and ready to regale you with much more than you ever wanted to know.

But last night when I was battling the yucks I finally agreed to take a spoon full of my Black Bean Soup masterpiece.

Yes, it was a masterpiece.

I just had a bowl for lunch, too. It is still epic.

Here is the photo I took:

And yes, there are several of the ingredients.

Mmmmmmmmmmm. And I feel so healthy, too.

Here is the recipe:

3/4 of a 1 pound bag dried black beans
3 - 14 1/2 oz. cans vegetable broth
2 carrots, sliced thinly
2 - 10 oz. cans diced tomatoes (I chose the ones
with Lime and cilantro)
1 tbsp dried basil

Soak black beans overnight, and then later rinse and drain when ready to prepare. Add beans, carrots and tomatoes to the crock pot. and submerge with broth. Stir and season to your liking with salt, cumin or cayenne pepper. Cook on low for 8-10 hours. Some people might want to serve with shredded cheese but I didn't want to add anything with animal products. I think this was my first ever vegan meal, so I was very excited... but beyond that, it was just delectable and hearty and sooo tasty!

I am still hoping to find a simple pumpkin soup recipe to use up some of that canned pumpkin I got and didn't use for the Christmas holidays and I just adore the taste of pumpkin.

When that happens, I will let all of you, my Bakotopian soup lovers, be among the first to know.

and sometimes it is just this cold, wet fog that permeates the bones like we have had the past few mornings.

Today all I wanted was a good, hearty bowl of soup.

I was making copies at Office Max off of Mt. Vernon, close to my house. I figure, "Ok, Quiznos must have something." I stood there, staring at the menu and the only soup they had wasn't something I would want. And the guy behind the counter, with no other customers, didn't care that I was standing there, so I left.

I wondered, "Does Starbucks have soup? Their drive thru is empty."

Nope. If you were ever curious, they don't have soup. Too bad.

I drove north on Mt. Vernon. Decided, "OK, I know Carrows has soup that is at least hearty and warm."

I had spent the morning walking around Hart Park in the cold with Coryn and my chill had wrapped into my bloodstream so I really wanted to have that warm stuff fill me. I walked into Carrows and was seated in a seat right by the door. The waitress took forever to get to me and I thought, "You know, I really don't want to be here. I want to be at home. I want to have  a mug of warm soup to warm me up in my cold house. I will count to ten and if she doesn't show, I will leave."

She didn't show. I left, even though the manager tried to convince me she would take my order I said, "You know, I just don't think I want to be here." Right now I don't want to spend time anyplace where I don't want to be.

I looked across the parking lot. City Sandwich shop, they must have soup. Everyone knows that soup and sandwiches together is a natural.

No soup today, the counter girl told me. I turned and left. I didn't want a sandwich, I wanted soup.

So I decided it must be karma. I must be supposed to go to the Sequoia Sandwich Shop downtown even if they weren't in my little slice of Bakersfield between Union and Mt. Vernon and between Bernard and Panorama. Sequoia Sandwich Shop always has great soup. Not my favorite kinds were listed on the menu when I arrived there, but they did have a hearty creamy soup that sounded just right.

Yay. Finally.

I got it home and guess what I had? The other kind of soup. Which was good, but not what I wanted. I ate it anyway, looking for the metaphor .  Almost but not quite what I want? No. But yes. Must be something else.

Meanwhile, I have been on a break from theatre, needed to get Sam settled into school and needed to catch my breath after a very harrowing 2007.   Sam has done great in his first two weeks so naturally opportunities are now flying my way at a practically dizzying pace.

That's the flood part, the amazing abundance part of this journey today. The soup? That is the wet, damp fog.

I can't wait to write more about my theatre adventures. I forgot how much I missed it.