pillows from heaven

Photo Credit: P. McCarthy, 2012

Last weekend, winter came to call.  Since moving to this sleepy little town, the weather has been insanely consistent and ridiculously mild -- almost three months of 60-70 degree days, full sunshine and almost no rain (a shock to the system for a little Seattleite like myself).  It's been just plain lovely for a girl who loves walks outside, is almost always inappropriately chilly, and soaks up the chance for a long bike ride.  But, almost overnight, Jack Frost and his wintery companions have arrived.  As you can see by the gorgeous photograph taken by my ridiculously talented sweetheart, winter has come.

And I love it.

I have been craving the cold, desperately wishing for the days where creamy hot cocoa, cozy sweaters and cuddling up together under a blanket are finally deemed appropriate.  As a winter holiday nutcase (I wish that I was overstating that...), I have been impatiently waiting for the weather to catch up to my holiday inspiration!  Despite the fact that we finally had to turn the thermostat on and my car is encased in a fresh layer of frost each morning, I am deeply grateful for this change of pace.  

If you've followed toliveboldly, you know that I am deeply passionate about health and wellness, about healthy nutrition and an active lifestyle (I am also deeply passionate about delicious food... but I haven't gone there with you all, yet).  This week, however, I am going to break stride and share with you the delicious fruits of my wintery inspiration.

Courtesy of years of toasty-warm nights in the kitchen with my unbelievably talented cook-of-a-mother, wintery weather inspires within me a deeply nostalgic craving for baking... for the scent of sugary dough, the warmth emanating from the oven, the rhythm of the mixer in my hands.  This past weekend, armed with one of my favorite recipes and a hankering for some kitchen experimentation, I let my inner-baker run wild -- and was unbelievably pleased (and incredibly stuffed) with the results.  

On Tuesday, I began a new position working in individual and family services at a local non-profit here in Flagstaff.  It has been exciting, inspiring, heartbreaking, and... overwhelming.  In lieu of my typical post, and in order to rest, renew and enjoy some quality time with my sweetheart, I wanted to share with you the delicious fruits of a snow-filled weekend of warmth and joy.  

One of the easiest (and most delicious) cookie recipes I have ever found, its mastermind, Paula Deen, calls these Chocolate Gooey Butter Cookies, but I prefer to call them Pillows from Heaven, because really... that's what they are.

Wishing you warmth, joy and peace wherever you are. XO.

--------------------------------------------

Chocolate Gooey Butter Cookies

aka Pillows from Heaven

modified only slightly from a recipe by Paula Deen

I wish there were more cookies to show you...

But these are what's left. Or were left when I took the picture. 

I might have had three while typing this. 

They are THAT good.

-----------------

You'll need...

8 ounce brick of cream cheese* 

1 stick butter*

(*HINT: recipe calls for both cream cheese and butter

to be at room temperature, but I have found that the

batter works better when they are melted together for about

30 seconds in the microwave*)

1 tsp. vanilla extract

1 egg

18 oz. box moist cake mix**

(**HINT: Paula's recipe calls for moist chocolate cake mix,

but you can use your favorite!  We've experimented with 

chocolate fudge cake mix, milk chocolate cake mix, and, 

believe it or not, Funfetti cake mix! All have been DELICIOUS,

but Funfetti might have been my favorite!)

confectioners sugar

-----------------

Directions...

In large bowl, with an electric mixer, cream cream cheese and butter 

until smooth. Beat in egg, vanilla and cake mix, one at a time, 

in that order.

Cover and chill in fridge for 2 hours.

After 2 hours, preheat oven to 350 degrees.

Uncover and roll batter into tablespoon-sized balls and 

roll in confectioners sugar.  Arrange 2-inches apart on cookie sheet.

Bake for 12 minutes.  

Cookies should be soft and gooey-looking! YUM!

Cool completely - they are honestly best after a couple of hours - and enjoy!

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catching the good

today, i am grateful for...

Nestled neatly on his desk, amongst the papers, pens and picture frames, my sweetheart keeps a daily calendar.  A beloved Christmas present from my dad, the calendar contains daily quotes from NBC's "The Office."  The other day, as we were flipping through the previous weeks' moments of pure Office hilarity, we hit upon this gem.  Now, to be totally honest, I have no idea what happened here or what episode it's from, but something in the interaction spoke deeply to me. 

I have a dirty little secret (other than the 15 mini candy bar wrappers I threw away in the dumpster this morning... whoops, did I just share that?!).  Sometimes, I seriously suck at communicating.  

Just two days ago, over dinner, my honey and I experienced our own little version of Pam and Oscar's conversation (...in this case, I'd be Oscar).  Here's how it played out (the short version... the long version is a sad and drawn-out mess of communication dysfunction, on my part).  

I am overwhelmed.  Don't say anything.  I am stressed.  Don't say anything.  Phone rings, texts beep, remember I had forgotten to send an email, overwhelming feeling increases.  Don't say anything.  Honey asks for a favor, I say yes.  Still don't say anything.  Go oddly quiet.  Honey knowingly asks what is wrong.  I explode in a snotty mess of tears.  He asks me to share, patiently waiting while I work through the spectrum of emotions.  I blame, accuse, collapse and finally admit... he wraps his arms around me.  I sob, forcing out the words: "I don't know how to share."  

He, of course, knows this already.

Don't get me wrong, most days, I'm on my communication game.  My honey and I work in unison, opening up, growing in loving honesty, cultivating gratitude for one another and our partnership.  We are 3 steps ahead, seeing potential problems, sharing with vulnerability.  I catch my partner's pass, respond with compassion, see where our relationship needs to grow and make it happen.  

But some days... I am not.  And, to be totally honest, the same can be said of my partner.  We fumble.  We miss a pass.  Or worse... there are days when we don't even show up for the game.  It's on days like this that we have to revisit the game tape and figure out where we went wrong.

It's days like this when I am grateful for the gift of forgiveness.

I am deeply inspired by my friends and family who are using this month leading up to Thanksgiving as a time to cultivate gratitude.  Whether it's through pictures on Instagram, statuses on Facebook, or the fundamental act of cultivating gratitude in real-time (hint, hint, life-changing stuff), I am encouraged, enlivened and inspired by the life-giving fruits of appreciation and thanksgiving.  As Brene Brown writes, "Practicing gratitude is how we acknowledge that there's enough and that we're enough."

Today, I am grateful for the deeply personal gift of forgiveness.  I am grateful for a partnership where commitment, compassion and trust encourage us through the sometimes messy work of growing in relationship with one another.  I am grateful for my relationships with family and friends, created on the foundation of unconditional love and open to growth and change.  I am so thankful for their continual love, support and strength.  Especially on those days that I don't show up as my best self... and even on those days that I do.

What about you, my dear friends?  What are you grateful for today?

having a bad day?

Found this gem while hopping around the internets today.

It might be my new favorite thing.

Enjoy on those days when you're not feeling so hot.

Or even on those days when you are.

emergency compliment via positive inkling

toliveboldly themed inspiration

Wasted Rita via Positive Inkling

numb the dark and you numb the light

Happy November, my dear friends!

I can't believe that it's already here, though the rows upon rows of Christmas decorations and toys are telling me that it's so (not that I'm one to complain... I am obsessed with the holiday season, something that I'm sure will be obvious in the coming weeks)!  

I pray that you all are safe and sound wherever you are -- I am sending love to all of you who experienced the wrath of Hurricane Sandy this past week, and I hope that you are warm and rested in your corner of the world.

For me, with each new month comes reflection.  I don't know what it is about the passing of each month, but something about the arrival of a new one reminds me to check my priorities, restructure my goals and recommit to my purpose.  It's as if the turning of that calendar page is a sobering reminder of the importance of mindfulness, somehow speaking deeply into my heart... don't let this experience pass you by, live in the present, be mindful of each day, each passing moment.

If you've been following along, you know that one of my recent literary goldmines has been the book Daring Greatly, by Brene Brown.  While I usually inhale a new book (like the one I finished yesterday while recovering from a sore throat in bed), this particular gem has had me working through it slowly.  It has so much goodness, so much meat to it, that I just want to savor every bite.  With each page, I am inspired and emboldened, not to mention soothed by the realization that my neuroses are quite normal.

To be completely honest... warning: moment of vulnerability here... while I attempt to keep a mask of cool, calm and control (gotta love that alliteration!), I am, sometimes (more frequently than I would like to be), a total ball of neurotic, anxious energy, albeit a very pretty and well-groomed one.  My insecure thoughts like to run away with themselves, jumping from presumed weakness to weakness with glee, leaving me (and, let's be honest, my sweetheart) with a blubbering mess of anxiety and shame.  Yeah, it's as fun as it sounds.

And, from what I've learned... while it might differ in degree or particular neuroses... I'm not alone.  We may not all dissolve into tears at the end of an anxiety-producing day, or be victim to the disease of overanalysis, but our anxieties, our shame-filled insecurites... well, they're pretty universal.  And, we all work through these painful pieces of vulnerability differently.  Some of us exercise.  Others of us eat.  Some of us direct that anxiety onto our partners, fearful of speaking the words of vulnerability.  Some of us are proactive, recognizing our patterns and creating boundaries to manage them in advance.  Some of us hide in perfectionism, while many protect ourselves by desperately guarding ourselves against that pain and limiting our joy, as well.  The list goes on...

But, in our society of crazy-busy, fill-every-moment, must-be-productive-ness, one of our most commonly used defenses is that of numbing.  We use food, substances, even daily distractions to avoid our pain, our naked vulnerability.  

Brene writes:

"... numbing vulnerability is especially debilitating because

it doesn't just deaden the pain of our difficult experiences;

numbing vulnerability also dulls our experiences of love, joy,

belonging, creativity, and empathy.

We can't selectively numb emotion.

Numb the dark and you numb the light."

While I was reading today, red holiday cup in hand and curled up in the comfy corner chair at my local Starbucks, I was struck with how deeply engrained our numbing-strategies are within our lives.  Brene speaks of it as a kind of addictive behavior, and while it may not be compulsive or chronic like addiction, our attempts to numb our vulnerability, shame, anxiety and disconnection are deep-seated and desperate.  We numb with comfort foods, that glass (or two or three) of wine after a long day, with pills.  It's so habitual that it's normalized, accepted, even suggested. But we've also learned to numb with the distractions around us -- the tv, the internet, our smartphones.  Instead of mindfulness, we've turned to mindless distractions, transforming what could be beautiful, relaxing or connecting -- your favorite tv show, fruitful conversation, long-distance connection -- into compulsion and desperation.  We lose track of time online instead of having that sometimes difficult conversation with our partner.  We choose social networks instead of spending quality time with our family.  We compulsively check our phones to the point of drowning out the social interaction around us.  We're so plugged in that we're tuned out.

"For me, it wasn't just the dance halls, cold beer, and Marlboro Lights 

of my youth that got so out of hand - it was banana bread, 

chips and queso, e-mail, work, staying busy, incessant worrying, planning, 

perfectionism, and anything else that could dull those agonizing 

and anxiety-fueled feelings of vulnerability."

-Brene Brown-

My habits of distraction are deeply engrained -- constantly checking my phone, my social networks, my email.  Sometimes, I miss out on conversation. Or a passing bit of beauty on a long drive. Sometimes, I use my favorite romcom to check out of life for a bit -- numbing my anxiety with the familiar actors and predictable story lines.  Other times, I use busyness to think about something else, anything else than the nagging anxiety. And I'm missing out on the tough, vulnerable, messy, and beautiful moments for growth and joy.  I am tired of the numbing distractions, the unconscious bingeing, the habits created out of a wounded desire to disconnect.

This month, I am intentionally practicing being plugged into life, unplugging my phone and computer (other than for studying purposes) after 9pm with a commitment to return only after breakfast the next morning.  On the other side of the world, I have a dear friend who is unplugging completely one day a week to reconnect and refresh.  What about you? Do you need to re-program how you eat? Or drink? How can you cultivate connection, practice self-compassion and explore vulnerability? Where have you numbed out?  I would love to create a community here where we can share and learn and grow together, because I know that I am learning so much from you.

Sending love your way.  Be kind to yourselves!