The hubby and I are trying out gluten/wheat free and Paleo eating right now and so I'm trying to discover good, healthy, easy, quick recipes. Not having much luck at the moment -- hubby is somewhat picky (texture person) and his stomach is sensitive.
However, I do like adding things to my dinner after cooking and separating the portions, so last night, I made him a batch of venison and eggs (paired with a salad -- mixed greens, apples and sliced almonds) and then made this for myself:
Kate's Quick Paleo Dinner
1 c. spinach
3/4 c. cooked venison
1 egg
1/2 tomato, sliced
2 green onions, chopped
1 tsp. olive oil
kosher salt
Papa John's seasoning (comes with thin crust)
I laid a bed of spinach on the plate while I cooked the venison in the oil. After the venison was done I cracked an egg in it and cooked that. I seasoned it with Papa John's seasoning and then added in the green onions.
I then piled the venison, egg and green onions on the bed of spinach and sliced up some tomatoes to go on the side. I topped them with a bit of kosher salt.
Not only was it extremely delicious, it looked *gorgeous*. I'm going to have to take a picture next time.
Thursday, March 21, 2013
Tuesday, March 19, 2013
Messy
I think we're afraid to be messy.
Sometimes it seems like we're all trying to get back to some old notion of perfection that just isn't achievable in this lifetime.
We're workaholics, we stress out at the thought of having our lives all planned out or while making big decisions (where to go to school, who to marry, what diet to go on), and we spend most of our lives attempting to 'get better' somehow (lose weight, find a 'purpose', reach goals, etc.).
We're either villains (the drunks, the prisoners, teenagers, political figures) or heroes (sports stars, prominent actors, saints, technology gurus) with no room in between for lives that aren't necessarily lived 'right' or 'wrong'.
The pressure to live exactly right is mind-numbing. If we make one wrong move, our entire chess game ends and we've failed to protect the king. One little push and the Jenga tower falls down.
How can we live with that knowledge? Most of us don't. We self medicate with drugs, drink, sex, or television, books, food, whatever fills that "I can't bear the pressure" hole. We try to ignore it. While it consumes us.
We're afraid to mess up. To make mistakes. Never mind that making mistakes is a natural part of life and that we can learn from them. Never mind that failure is a better teacher than success. Never mind that trying and trying again builds character.
It's a good thing to occasionally fail at something. It keeps you humble. It reminds you that you're only human and that it's ok. You'll do better next time. It's comforting, in a way. You don't have to be perfect.
The sad thing is, we are so ingrained with staying away from messy that it has gotten to a ridiculous level. For example -- we move our toilets away from main areas, we turn on fans so no one can hear, we scent the bathroom with candles and soap and whatever spray is available. We've removed that part of our humanity until it has become shameful.
That's a pretty extreme example, but I noticed it the other day and it struck me just how much we've tried to hide 'messy'. We have privatized normal body functions, treating them like hidden, shameful acts. We've hidden menstrual cycles behind funny advertisements and packaging, we've hidden birthing, sickness, and even death. We're afraid of the messy parts of life.
Granted, there are some things that *should* be private. I don't want to see anyone getting it on or using the restroom. I just think it's weird that we've built up highly private toilets and we have unwritten etiquette about that particular bodily function. It's a little...silly.
Why do we pretend that normal functions don't exist? Why do we hide 'messy'?
I think we feel that if we're perfect, we'll be accepted. Loved. Without the mess, there's no reason to not love us. Without the mess, we're pristine. Perfect. Unashamed. Deserving of love.
I think a little mess is healthy. It relieves the burden of perfection. I think knowing that others are messy can ease your own stress. A community of people who aren't afraid to live and make mistakes (within reason) can be healthy.
But there's the rub -- humans aren't known for doing things 'within reason'. It's hard for humans to balance. We're caught on a pendulum and we'll swing from one side to the other.
So we strive to leave the messiness behind and aim for perfection. But we've let perfection gain control over us. We no longer aim for it, we pretend it. We cover ourselves with it. We stitch it together to hide the mess underneath. We use it for shelter. We let it rule us.
I'm less and less enthused with perfection. I'm more interested in learning to live a balanced life. I may not always have the house clean, but I'll invite people I love over anyway. If they accept my messiness, then so can I (although, to be balanced, I need to clean every once in a while. Living in a constant state of messiness isn't healthy either). If I make a mistake, I'll own up to it. Learn from it. Make a better decision next time. One small mistake doesn't tend to ruin a life. It may change it, but it won't destroy it. I've already made a bunch of mistakes and my life isn't all that bad. I have a loving spouse, good friends, a quiet, safe spot to sleep, and a passion for story that will lead me to make more decisions and mistakes in the future.
Don't be afraid to live messy. All of us are messy. That doesn't mean we don't deserve to be loved.
Sometimes it seems like we're all trying to get back to some old notion of perfection that just isn't achievable in this lifetime.
We're workaholics, we stress out at the thought of having our lives all planned out or while making big decisions (where to go to school, who to marry, what diet to go on), and we spend most of our lives attempting to 'get better' somehow (lose weight, find a 'purpose', reach goals, etc.).
We're either villains (the drunks, the prisoners, teenagers, political figures) or heroes (sports stars, prominent actors, saints, technology gurus) with no room in between for lives that aren't necessarily lived 'right' or 'wrong'.
The pressure to live exactly right is mind-numbing. If we make one wrong move, our entire chess game ends and we've failed to protect the king. One little push and the Jenga tower falls down.
How can we live with that knowledge? Most of us don't. We self medicate with drugs, drink, sex, or television, books, food, whatever fills that "I can't bear the pressure" hole. We try to ignore it. While it consumes us.
We're afraid to mess up. To make mistakes. Never mind that making mistakes is a natural part of life and that we can learn from them. Never mind that failure is a better teacher than success. Never mind that trying and trying again builds character.
It's a good thing to occasionally fail at something. It keeps you humble. It reminds you that you're only human and that it's ok. You'll do better next time. It's comforting, in a way. You don't have to be perfect.
The sad thing is, we are so ingrained with staying away from messy that it has gotten to a ridiculous level. For example -- we move our toilets away from main areas, we turn on fans so no one can hear, we scent the bathroom with candles and soap and whatever spray is available. We've removed that part of our humanity until it has become shameful.
That's a pretty extreme example, but I noticed it the other day and it struck me just how much we've tried to hide 'messy'. We have privatized normal body functions, treating them like hidden, shameful acts. We've hidden menstrual cycles behind funny advertisements and packaging, we've hidden birthing, sickness, and even death. We're afraid of the messy parts of life.
Granted, there are some things that *should* be private. I don't want to see anyone getting it on or using the restroom. I just think it's weird that we've built up highly private toilets and we have unwritten etiquette about that particular bodily function. It's a little...silly.
Why do we pretend that normal functions don't exist? Why do we hide 'messy'?
I think we feel that if we're perfect, we'll be accepted. Loved. Without the mess, there's no reason to not love us. Without the mess, we're pristine. Perfect. Unashamed. Deserving of love.
I think a little mess is healthy. It relieves the burden of perfection. I think knowing that others are messy can ease your own stress. A community of people who aren't afraid to live and make mistakes (within reason) can be healthy.
But there's the rub -- humans aren't known for doing things 'within reason'. It's hard for humans to balance. We're caught on a pendulum and we'll swing from one side to the other.
So we strive to leave the messiness behind and aim for perfection. But we've let perfection gain control over us. We no longer aim for it, we pretend it. We cover ourselves with it. We stitch it together to hide the mess underneath. We use it for shelter. We let it rule us.
I'm less and less enthused with perfection. I'm more interested in learning to live a balanced life. I may not always have the house clean, but I'll invite people I love over anyway. If they accept my messiness, then so can I (although, to be balanced, I need to clean every once in a while. Living in a constant state of messiness isn't healthy either). If I make a mistake, I'll own up to it. Learn from it. Make a better decision next time. One small mistake doesn't tend to ruin a life. It may change it, but it won't destroy it. I've already made a bunch of mistakes and my life isn't all that bad. I have a loving spouse, good friends, a quiet, safe spot to sleep, and a passion for story that will lead me to make more decisions and mistakes in the future.
Don't be afraid to live messy. All of us are messy. That doesn't mean we don't deserve to be loved.
Wednesday, March 13, 2013
The Backbone (A Person's Skeletal Makeup)
I've been doing a lot of thinking about focus. What's my focus? What am I focusing on? What do I want to be my primary focus?
I think a lot of us can lose our way when we put too much focus on something that should be part of our routine. I'm talking, in part, about the health nuts. Those people who spend all their time telling everyone else what they should and shouldn't eat, which brands to buy and which ones to boycott, and basically try to boss everyone into eating nothing but seeds.
Those people (Luckily, I'm not friends with any of those people, but I've met a few of them).
I think we shouldn't be focused as much on nutrition. I think we should integrate it into our lives so that it becomes a background routine. We should be healthier. Integrating that, at first, will take more effort, so there is a curve. But once you've started, it's easy to put that into your list of routines and go back to your main focus.
Health is one thing we should all be striving towards -- exercise, dieting, sleep, etc. I just don't think it should be *everyone's* focus (Obviously, those who love health and all things related end up being health coaches, nutritionists, runners, etc., and that's great -- they found their focus, the one thing they absolutely *love* -- but the rest of us can sometimes focus on that when really it should be a part of our life instead of the biggest part).
Other things people distract themselves with: sports, fashion, news, politics, TV, etc. None of these are bad, but can be so distracting that you miss out on the Big Thing(s).
I think we can distract ourselves by focusing on smaller things instead of tackling The Big Thing we're too scared to do. The thing that means most to us (and therefore is more scary to try to accomplish, since we might fail). Doesn't have to be One Big Thing, but there is something that calls to you on a deeper level than anything else. That's your Big Thing. Your "Purpose". The thing you're most passionate about. The thing that, if someone took it away from you, would strip your identity because it is so closely tied together.
I call it the Backbone. The thing that connects the rest of you and keeps you all together. Without it, we'd just be piles on the floor (or invertebrates, perhaps). I've thought about this in relation to writing, too. the Backbone of a story is Theme. The main idea. The current running through the entire piece. The thing that keeps the story grounded.
There are other things to put on the Backbone -- add in health, relationships, work, hobbies, spirituality, and whatever else people are involved in, and that makes the rib cage, the brain, the knees...and you have the whole body. We couldn't completely function as just Backbone. But the Backbone is how we interpret all the other pieces. Without the Backbone, we wouldn't know where to begin, or where to go.
This year, I'm finding my Backbone. Through all the trauma, exhaustion, aches, longing and suffering, the excess is being stripped off and I'm finding out what I'm really made of -- on the deepest level.
How did you find your Backbone? Are you still finding it?
I think a lot of us can lose our way when we put too much focus on something that should be part of our routine. I'm talking, in part, about the health nuts. Those people who spend all their time telling everyone else what they should and shouldn't eat, which brands to buy and which ones to boycott, and basically try to boss everyone into eating nothing but seeds.
Those people (Luckily, I'm not friends with any of those people, but I've met a few of them).
I think we shouldn't be focused as much on nutrition. I think we should integrate it into our lives so that it becomes a background routine. We should be healthier. Integrating that, at first, will take more effort, so there is a curve. But once you've started, it's easy to put that into your list of routines and go back to your main focus.
Health is one thing we should all be striving towards -- exercise, dieting, sleep, etc. I just don't think it should be *everyone's* focus (Obviously, those who love health and all things related end up being health coaches, nutritionists, runners, etc., and that's great -- they found their focus, the one thing they absolutely *love* -- but the rest of us can sometimes focus on that when really it should be a part of our life instead of the biggest part).
Other things people distract themselves with: sports, fashion, news, politics, TV, etc. None of these are bad, but can be so distracting that you miss out on the Big Thing(s).
I think we can distract ourselves by focusing on smaller things instead of tackling The Big Thing we're too scared to do. The thing that means most to us (and therefore is more scary to try to accomplish, since we might fail). Doesn't have to be One Big Thing, but there is something that calls to you on a deeper level than anything else. That's your Big Thing. Your "Purpose". The thing you're most passionate about. The thing that, if someone took it away from you, would strip your identity because it is so closely tied together.
I call it the Backbone. The thing that connects the rest of you and keeps you all together. Without it, we'd just be piles on the floor (or invertebrates, perhaps). I've thought about this in relation to writing, too. the Backbone of a story is Theme. The main idea. The current running through the entire piece. The thing that keeps the story grounded.
There are other things to put on the Backbone -- add in health, relationships, work, hobbies, spirituality, and whatever else people are involved in, and that makes the rib cage, the brain, the knees...and you have the whole body. We couldn't completely function as just Backbone. But the Backbone is how we interpret all the other pieces. Without the Backbone, we wouldn't know where to begin, or where to go.
This year, I'm finding my Backbone. Through all the trauma, exhaustion, aches, longing and suffering, the excess is being stripped off and I'm finding out what I'm really made of -- on the deepest level.
How did you find your Backbone? Are you still finding it?
Friday, March 1, 2013
Razor Wire
The night before last, I dreamed that Stu and I were visiting an old friend. I have a lot of unresolved things with this person, but in the dream last night we had stopped by on a road trip and at first it was uncomfortable and I knew they were uncomfortable, so when they offered a hug, I stepped in and squeezed them tight. We hugged for a long time. They said something I wasn't able to quite catch (something about 'pride') and I said, "We've both grown up, haven't we?"
Then we were all at a baseball diamond in the woods (worst place for a baseball game) and someone had put up a chainlink fence around the diamond, but then put razor wire on top.
I went into the dugout to talk to someone, and I realized that some of the razor and barbed wire had gotten stuck in my teeth. I gingerly pulled out a long piece of barbed wire and some shards of razor wire, pricking my finger in the process.
Once I'd gotten all the wire out, I laid it all down on a shelf, but before I could go back to our conversation, I woke up.
It was weird because after the first part of the dream, when I woke up, I knew that what was unresolved between us had somehow worked itself out for me. It felt really freeing, like putting an old ghost to rest.
The teeth thing, however, weirded me out. It was like the wire was packed in there and any minute would tear my mouth apart.
Very uncomfortable.
Then we were all at a baseball diamond in the woods (worst place for a baseball game) and someone had put up a chainlink fence around the diamond, but then put razor wire on top.
I went into the dugout to talk to someone, and I realized that some of the razor and barbed wire had gotten stuck in my teeth. I gingerly pulled out a long piece of barbed wire and some shards of razor wire, pricking my finger in the process.
Once I'd gotten all the wire out, I laid it all down on a shelf, but before I could go back to our conversation, I woke up.
It was weird because after the first part of the dream, when I woke up, I knew that what was unresolved between us had somehow worked itself out for me. It felt really freeing, like putting an old ghost to rest.
The teeth thing, however, weirded me out. It was like the wire was packed in there and any minute would tear my mouth apart.
Very uncomfortable.
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