christmas candle and lights

make for comfortable nights

for snuggling under a quilt

is a relationship built

found on a sober blog, found it very helpful

I still pray, though. I have a clear sense that there is more to us human beings than our physical bodies. I believe that, if God/Spirit is “out there,” it is also “in here.” Prayer and meditation, as regular practices, align my will and my consciousness with the great flows of life—time, gravity, healing, love, and others that I don’t even know about yet. And Spirit.

When the prayer says, “Let not my will but thy will be done,” I don’t imagine a person. I imagine time’s will, or love’s natural orientation, or the healing body’s natural courses. Usually I perceive Spirit’s will. (Or even gravity’s will: I have more and more wrinkles and sags today than I had last year, talk about humility.)

There are some simple prayers I’ve been encouraged to say in recovery:

• Let me be relieved of the bondage of self, so I can better serve Spirit’s will
• Let me be relieved of fear and my attention be directed toward what Spirit would allow me to be
• Let me give my strengths and weaknesses in the service of Spirit, and may those weaknesses be removed which no longer serve others
• Let Spirit (not money, not social insecurity, not fear, in other words not self-will) direct my thinking, separating my thinking from self-pity and deceit.
• My favorite: I ask for an “intuitive thought” when I’m confused. I love this. Because this is another of my higher powers—the Intuitive Thought. It’s beyond me, bigger than me, and very powerful.

Higher power for me is not about belief. It’s about exercise. It’s about waking up. The 12 steps keep me sober, and they also wake me up.

NOT a masquerade ball

a new persona or a pomegranate?

Lately been pondering the ways people present themselves to the world. Specifically, myself. Today marks my 7th month of physical and mental sobriety and I think about all the ridiculous social situations I've found myself in the last 6 years. Fleeting friendships or acquaintanceships, who knows at this point which one was which?
This whole new business of being sober - monitoring myself and my behaviors especially with other people around, in social situations, can hinder my carefree self…I guess I have yet to draw the delicate line between the wonderfully adventurous carefree and the self destructive "Let's break some shit" me. As of right now, I find myself feeling a little disconnected, or distanced in most of my friendships. Not seriously detached, just cautious and awkward at times. And don't want to repeat mistakes of the past. Therefore I stop myself before I say too much or appear "too much". Always ending up being called the "crazy" one, the "weird and silly" one, I just want to be who I really am and not feel like I have to apologize for it. No point here in this post, other than I hope that this overly cautious stage of my life is temporary. Otherwise, whats the point of sobriety?

~Pig home alone

Bear's away since this Wednesday.

Wednesday - Halloween. The air smells different. Delivery pizza for dinner.

Thursday - Pig feast. Tomato and roasted red pepper soup (creamy) accompanied by delicious pastry bites with feta cheese and caramelized onions. Yum

Friday - 6:30 AA Music meeting (my home group; each week the chairperson picks a song that relates to recovery or addiction, we listen to it and then we comment).
Dinner: Wild mushroom & black truffle flatbread pizza. Yum

Saturday - Running errands all day. A handful of shelled edamame for lunch (lack of appetite due to self inflicted anxiety) finally leading up to a nice, comforting dinner: breaded chicken tenders, garlic butter mashed potatoes and steamed asparagus drizzled with lemon butter {wasn't patient enough to take pictures of my plate}. Yum.

Trader Joe's haven't failed me yet.

I really enjoy eating.

I really like beauty products

Its scent reminds me of European lotions, clean and subtle. Clean skin scent.

Dee Dee was nice. Her conversation was decisive and entertaining. She was able to make me laugh, which I needed. My laughter was all there inside of me waiting to roar out: HAHAHAHAHA, o my god o my HAHAHAHAHA. It felt so good when it happened. Dee Dee knew something about life. She knew that what happened to one happened to most of us. Our lives were not so different - even though we liked to think so.
Pain is strange. A cat killing a bird, a car accident, a fire…
Pain arrives, BANG, and there it is, it sits on you. It's real. And to anybody watching, you look foolish. Like you've suddenly become an idiot. There's no cure for it unless you know somebody who understands how you feel, and knows how to help.

Reading Post Office. Absolutely refreshing. Harsh. Concrete.

little soapy treasures

I don't grow attached to certain personal hygiene products, I like to change things up, so many choices out there! Bar soap especially I love to experiment with. Harmless.
I recently treated myself to a Belgian eggwhite soap.

Here are the beauty bar's claims:
Eiwit Zeep Eggwhite Facial Soaps are produced with pure egg whites, chamomile and lecithin. Eiwit Zeep Eggwhite Facial Soap oil's soothing and hydrating properties combined with the protein-rich power of fresh eggwhites helps you maintain a clear, glowing complexion with daily use. 

Now, I don't know about you, but I look up to Scandinavians, in many ways.

But more on that later, Pig needs her beauty sleep.

adorable packaging, enticing fragrance

Battambang boat trip

I noticed that our boat  had slowed almost to a standstill and that our new additions were arguing with the skipper, pointing in a direction decidedly opposite from where the river was taking us. I looked to Kry to translate, but he wouldn't meet my gaze. Not a peep. He stared off at some fixed point in space, apparently oblivious. When, at our uninvited guest's instruction, the boat changed course, coughing and clanking up a narrow no-name creek perpendicular to the river, I barked to Kry, 'What's happening? What's going on?'

'We take shortcut,' said Kry, quickly slipping back into what seemed to be a coma.

'Shortcut'. The word filled me with dread. When has a shortcut ever worked out as planned? The word - in a horror film at least - usually precedes disembowelment and death. A 'shortcut' almost never leads to good times. And in Cambodia, with our skipper suddenly piloting the boat up a shallow, twisting, foliage- choked, water- filled ditch, deep into who the fuck knows where, with two who the fuck knows who giving the orders, I was not feeling too secure. I consulted my Lonely Planet guide and was dismayed to find this particular body of water did not appear on the map.

City at night

Jim Morrison touched on it in L.A. Woman, the subtleties in his voice letting me know exactly what city at night should feel like.

Even as a young girl I would love driving through our city at night with my mom, hearing music in the distance and good times happening after dark. I couldn't wait till I was old enough to experience all that smoky forbidden fun.

And then I got my first real taste of nightlife, and all that comes with it. The time in my life where I'd go to sleep around 5 or 6 am. For 3 years straight. My lifestyle has drastically changed since then. It might've only been 3 years since I left the bar scene, but I am in such a different place in my life right now. 

And I find dusk the most exciting part of the day. 

BODY--> pliable

Monday~

My 11 year anniversary in this country.
Was running errands after work, went to the far west side, then a long commute on the damen bus home. It was dusk at that point, and I enjoyed looking in other people's apartments, knowing it's dinner time. I'm surprised how many peeps keep their windows completely bare, for all to see. I could not possibly do it, I'm a very private pig. Anyway, Bear was waiting for me, made delicious bbq pork sandwiches, then a chocolate croissant for my dessert…This is love. I found it. My love. Home. Comfort. I'm a very lucky girl. Lucky pig.

A ryokan bath appreciation

A deep oblong cedar tub sat against one wall, next to an open window, from which one could gaze out at the mountaintops without being seen, along with an adjacent area in which to wash oneself prior to soaking in the tub. There were a small wooden stool, a scrub brush, a wooden bucket, and a high-powered-spray shower attachment. The idea was to squat on the wooden stool, soap up, brush oneself down with the hard bristle brush, pausing to rinse now and again with buckets of hot or cold water, as one liked, then shower. The whole floor, tiled in black granite, tilted conveniently into recessed troughs and drains. After one's outer layers of skin have been scrubbed off, one slid gracefully into the waiting tub, soaking for a long, long time, the window open up just enough for a cooling breeze, a view of ripe oranges dropping from the trees in the outer garden.

Batman is so full of lessons!

“It’s not who you are underneath. 

It’s what you do that defines you.”

What we really have is a daily reprieve contingent on the maintenance of our 'spiritual condition'

Being bicultural is an advantage but to those struggling to establish their identity, it can be quite a endeavor. It is difficult for me to explain the role of sober recovery in my life to people back home where drinking and functioning alcoholism is a part of the country's culture. This disease of alcoholism does not get cured with one meeting. It is much more than just not drinking. It's being in touch with yourself, knowing there's something greater than yourself, and being motivated to live an honest life. After yesterday's ridiculous visit with father I'm done explaining myself.

I absolutely adore the Obamas. I actually have an Obama family made in my Sim world. Politics aside {this Pig is not a citizen of the United States so I cannot vote anyway}, I believe they are a successful family. Their love and support for one another emanates so vividly, they're not stiff or superficial to the public. Michelle loves and admires her man, is not afraid to show affection, is poised and dresses tastefully. A real, modern First Lady.
I would really enjoy having Barack and Michelle over for a dinner party, I believe I can make a great hostess and know that Bear would be on his best behavior. He'd be in his human costume..

Barack with his girls watching Michelle speak
at the Democratic National Convention

Women's Daily Meditation - - Labor Day

We'll find joy when we find acceptance of ourselves and our efforts and the belief that we are spiritual beings whose lives do have purpose and direction.

The wisdom that accompanies spiritual growth offers us security, that which we have sought along many avenues. And when we feel secure, we can trust that the challenges confronting us are purposeful and to our advantage.

One day at a time, one small prayer at a time, moves us even closer to spiritual security. We can look with glad anticipation at our many responsibilities and activities today. They are our opportunities for spiritual security. We can trust our growing inner resources by simply asking for guidance and waiting patiently. It will find us.

I must exercise my prayers if I want the spiritual security where I can find joy. I will ask for guidance with every activity today.

Inspiring chef part 2

Another fellow that shows up regularly on TV is Andrew Zimmern who, at first I thought was trying to trade on Bourdain's name by eating bizarre shit on his show on Travel Channel. The more I watched him the more I came to like him. This plump, jolly American chef was not afraid of a challenge, was respectful and polite, a nice counterpart to the sometimes arrogant attitude presented by Bourdain. Later on I found out he was, at one point in his life, homeless due to his drug and alcohol addiction. He hit bottom and was snatching purses in New York City for a living. Later he went to rehab; received treatment at Hazelden and has been sober now for some time. Even on his show, when he is presented with an alcohol infused drink culturally important to the country he is visiting, he asks a camera crew guy to try it instead. He doesn't make a big deal out of it, which is very moving for me. It is very inspiring, indeed, to see a person so involved in what he's doing, so passionate about life and still remaining humble. He is positive without trying to be anything he's not, and to me, that's a big part of sobriety. Remaining teachable is a highly valued trait, especially for us, addicts.

Nite nite! 

Inspiring chef Part 1

My first television crush happened between 2005 and 2006 (when I was still living at home with my parents). The crush was Anthony Bourdain. No Reservations was then a somewhat new TV show, Tony wasn't yet an acclaimed badass (at least not in my book), his show was randomly tucked in between regular travel channel programs, and I loved it. He was my secret culinary Jim Morrison of the 21st century, having international adventures that I yearned for (still do) and the freedom to roam (this part was just like any young adult's perspective, looking forward to be released from the nest). His book Kitchen Confidential: Adventures in the Culinary Underbelly only solidified my interest, as I learned more about his personal life, about his serious drug addiction, and the fact he was able to beat it and move on.
Once Tony and his show became more and more in demand, I stopped watching the series since popularity is a turnoff for me. This does not mean I'm a nonconformist. I just don't like being into things that are 'hot right now' or 'bestselling' or 'just released'. I usually wait until the hype is over and then slowly make my way towards that thing, in my own time. I'm currently reading one of his books, A Cook's Tour: Global Adventures in Extreme Cuisines in admiration, his writing is impeccable. After all, it is not his fault he got mainstream famous and I'm glad he's making a living this way, I mean, who wouldn't be?

Cloudy Thursday

My sunroom - a bit less sunny this morning

It is grey outside, and I've got nowhere to go, bliss.
I'm looking forward to a call back about a job, an official call.
Meanwhile I'm brewing some black tea, squeeze a little lemon in the cup, write a post, morning news quietly buzzing in the background.
The weather is so comforting right now. Usually when I wake up and it's a bright, sunny day, I feel compelled to achieve great things because it's a great day. Now, if it's a grey day, whatever my achievements, they seem special. I'm pretty sure it's just my psyche pulling tricks on me.

OOOH! Was that thunder i just heard? Sure was! It is now officially a pig in a cave day, and I'll scrub this cave clean.