rock slide

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I live my life in a lot of forgiveness.
I suppose we all do.

And there’s so much that I want to say about that. I don’t quite know if all the words are in me now, but maybe someday, I will tell you what it feels like.

There is a point where one is responsible for their actions and thoughts. They are responsible for themselves, in that way. I know there is a difference in being responsible to and for. Generally, you are responsible to others for various reasons. A teacher. A parent. A friend. A caretaker. This is your job as a human being. You are responsible to the human race and probably animals like cats and dogs, if they’re your pets. Maybe a little pig, if you’re lucky.

But, you are responsible for yourself.

I can’t blame why I do what I do on my parents or their parents. I can’t blame it on the media or my neighbor. I am responsible for me. That’s a lot of pressure as a human, yeah?

I think this might be why we break into millions of pieces, sometimes. It is hard when the two get jumbled up and we are left with a gaping hole in the earth below us.

What I mean to say, and what feels heavy right now, is that there is a lot that hurts right now. Mostly inside me. I can’t say what I want to say because I know people will argue and “respectfully” disagree. The fact that there aren’t many good answers in dealing with hard social issues is problematic for me.

Like how I’m afraid of guns — not because I don’t know how to use them, but what I might do with a gun. And I’m afraid of what you might do with a gun even if you were raised with them and hunt with them and you are happy with your life.

That’s why I don’t own a gun. That is why my views on gun control are so conflicted, because I know so many great, wonderful people who have them and don’t seem like a threat.

And like you, I have every reason to have something completely random and messed up happen. I think what burdens me is how scared people are. There are so many reasons. Where you grow up. What you grow up in. The messes we find ourselves in. Even the privilege of being raised in a place where I hardly ever saw crime. That is my backpack, though. It is very light. Maybe, ten years from now when and if my situation changes where I feel having a gun keeps me, and helps me feel safe, I will change.

It is not now.

rock-slide

Changing is so radically important. It is so hard. Having a person change their mind is a revolution in itself. Perhaps enough to pull a gun away from someone’s direction. Or those who hold on to this Southern flag for reasons of racial pride and “heritage” without really feeling the depth of what it looks like to the other fifty percent of the population. If what you are doing is hurting another person, think about it.

Even as I think about the people who make my clothes and grow my food,

Which is why I am here to say that I am glad to live in forgiveness.

I’ve been able to move through my life, thus far, relatively lightly.

Overly-senstive. Quiet. Unassuming. But hopefully kind and thoughtful in between. This doesn’t go without my kitchen persona in the heat of a moment where I might snap at you for complaining too much or slamming pots and pans.

Another reason for forgiveness-stuff.

Moving was really hard. Losing my best friend and partner was excruciating. Losing anything is hard. But in those moments, so many things change. I lost some things I needed to lose. Some of my beliefs were challenged and it settled a bit. Sort of like a pile of rocks sliding, and adjusting to their new position for another twenty years. Until the earth moves and they tumble again.

That is what it feels like to change.

So I won’t stay quite settled. My reality is often shifting like loose sand.

I know myself enough to understand that now, I am responsible. For bills and being a good person and moving along in my part of the world, hoping to leave it better than I found it. For me, that looks like questioning things that hurt people a lot. I realize fixing this problem isn’t a reality, but I can cover it in some grace in hopes that more of it works its way on down, into the cracks of the icky things we hurt for.

Forgiveness-stuff.

That is what change is all about.

Eat Your Leftovers. (and Start a Revolution)

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I write about a lot of things on this blog.

As you well know, it isn’t a place for chicken breast recipes or crockpot masterpieces.

I am though, convinced that food changes things. The economics of buying whole products and cooking them at home, compared to buying cheap sugar through the Golden Arches or T.G.I McFunster’s, is extraordinary. It’s also healthier, even if you use butter!

I flirt with conspiracy. It’s easy for me to latch onto things where government is questioned, false flags are thrown and at the end of the day, the people are still under its big, fat thumb. I’m also not one to do much about it, if I’m honest with myself. I have friends that do things. That march in rallies and hold signs and wear buttons while calling their local congressman/woman.

At the risk of seeming too political, I want to come back down a little. Because while I get angry, as most of you do, given the current political and economical climate, there are many ways to inspire change.

leftovers-in-fridge

Right now, I’m in the midst of discovering the energy crisis. As to what happens when all of our oil runs out. I had no idea it took seven gallons of oil to make a tire! Like corn, oil is in everything. From our toothpaste to our toothbrush.

Now, I’m sounding all dooms-day’ish, but it’s something we should all be aware of. Let in little bits, and you can digest it much easier. At least that’s the way I am with this kind of stuff.

What I want to say is that the revolution that needs to happen is one much deeper than holding a sign on the street. While I don’t want to discourage anyone from marching and holding signs, there’s something more internal about our generation’s struggle to move forward with the rest of human and animal-kind. It will need to get deep into our bones. Even for us quiet people. We can certainly be loud.

Revolution looks like a lot of things.

For me, it’s learning how to cook and realize that the food we eat affects everything around us. Corn. Oil. Agriculture. Global Warming. Big government. The demand is that we need cheap energy. Whether that’s food or electricity or gas. We want it. And they have it. (For a little bit longer, that is.)

As long as they make the decisions, we won’t.

But this is what I want to emphasize.

You can make the decisions without having to be in the trenches.

You can refuse to eat tomatoes that aren’t seasonal and local. (Because there are thousands of poor souls that harvest vegetables because we supposedly need them all year around.)

COOK. AT. HOME.

I love going out to eat. But I also know the places I eat at support local agriculture. At least for the most part. It’s something I can get behind. Cooking at home has such huge impact on you and your family. And while this conjures up imagery of “Leave It to Beaver”, what I’m saying is that learning how to cook will only be beneficial to you.

Don’t be afraid of dishes. If it’s hard to cook for yourself, realize you have a billion ideas out there on the internet. Eat your leftovers for lunch the next day. Don’t let it go to waste.

The world revolves around many things. I’m convinced food is one of the biggest ways we can change things. Being aware of what’s around you. Even all that plastic people put your groceries into. That stuff is NEVER going to go anywhere. Bring your own bags to the store. Reuse stuff.

It is quite literally, in your hands. Don’t take that lightly. If it’s a spark, it can be engulfed in flame. If it’s a drop, it can be an ocean.

It’s the small things, believe it or not, that will change the way you move in this world.

And my friends,

Nothing is more important than the small things.