Tuesday, September 20, 2016

Summer Houseguests, Inspiration & Cake

Some new work, some older work
The last scent of summer has been washed away by some much needed sky water followed by a gentle helping of fog. This meteorological menu has sent me rummaging through saved magazine bits looking for squash and kale recipes. It's fall, there must be sweaters and soup. On Saturday I gathered the last of the zucchini, some sugar pumpkins and a generous bouquet of sunflowers from the roadside stands to welcome fall to my kitchen.

I am trying to remember what I do in a season that is not summer; one where I can't spend most of my day outside. Transitions: they throw us a bit. We pause at their gate but that's not a bad a thing; the pausing. 

Travelling By Hindsight 12"x12"
The days of summer are tiny wisps of memory now. I have no interest in the story of "I went here, I did this." I am more interested in the inner landscape (though the outer offers it's own deliciousness). You don't need to know that I was stung by wasps and the bottom of my purse now harbours an epi pen, that's another story. 

On my excellent inner adventures (with a nod to Bill & Ted) doubt became my summer houseguest and I decided to get to know it a little better. I mean it's not that doubt (the prankster) hasn't always been lurking, it's just that this summer I invited him out of the attic because he's made such hidden trouble up there. He made an overbearing sort of houseguest, you know the kind that talks too much, knows everything and makes you feel awful and worn out by bedtime. He wrecks stuff and leaves a general trail of shrapnel and dirty towels behind him. I wouldn't recommend him on trip advisor (but you know about him already, I'm thinking). One of his most annoying traits is that he masquerades as wisdom and intelligence but really he's just scared things aren't going to work out and that's his cover-up. He is a spoiler, a bit like mold on the wind or maybe more like leprosy, eating away at the strength of the bone.
Night Walk
I tried to just be there with his shenanigans, sensing how they felt. When I could do this whole heartedly, doubt got a bit bored with me as audience and went off looking for more enthusiastic hosts.

I rediscovered the work of David R. Hawkins this summer by a chance encounter and it tied in with my exploration of doubt. I'd read him years ago and at that time I'd hated his levels of consciousness idea. It seemed too much like a rating system. It felt different this time round. He reminds us how powerful our minds are, how we are connected to a greater consciousness and how we're not really in charge of this personal little boat. He encourages us to explore our beliefs and work with ones that don't serve us well. Do I want to believe in doubt or do I want to believe in willingness and love and possibility
First Snow at Berg Lake

So as we dip our toes gingerly into the upcoming season of hibernation I wish you happy travels. I see you wrapped in a cozy sweater, near a toasty fire, sipping something warm, exploring the wealth of human imagination that surrounds us on crisp paper pages or glowing screens (this is a modern fairytale). And if you hunger for the perfect taste of fall, here's an apple cake recipe that even I could execute. Invite your tribe over to ooo and aw over your awesome culinary skills.