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| Karina's fabulous gluten-free pumpkin streusel muffins. |
Did someone say streusel?
This isn't a Halloween post. Or a Thanksgiving post. Technically. Though Thanksgiving
is just a stone's throw away- if you somehow conjure a metaphorical stone to metaphorically hurl into the time-space continuum, piercing the veil of eight and a half weeks that blows by in a singular exhale, surely faster than light. And this exhale, it was only following a previous breath- a breath I took yesterday- which turns out to be one
year ago. A year since that
Pumpkin Praline Pie I baked. I have a hard time wrapping my brain around this.
This is a post about time.
Some days I feel as if I am slave to the calendar, an unwitting cog in the wheel of the year with Sundays and holidays appointed by proxy, designated by some superior force that rules my random wandering nature with an unforgiving fist, demanding obedience. Charting the course of my life.
Then I remember
the truth.
Time is an invention born of the Big Bang. Debris hurtling through space- at increasing velocity. And here we are, hurtling along with it. Stuck to a rock spinning its own orbital logic. Logic so tiny in the fantastical face of infinity, the depth and breadth of vast, hollow, endless space. In the beyond-comprehension scheme of things, we are all walking talking miracles. It is truly beyond extraordinary that we are here at all, with all the subatomic quantum level things that could go wrong. With all the near misses. And all that never was.
Life is breathtakingly rare, intricately fragile, and so surprising.
Perhaps that's why we set apart a season to ponder the harvest, to cultivate gratitude. I'm all for it. I'm all for it because of all the petty, surface level annoyances we endure, all the itches and aches and heartbreaks and mundane difficulties, all the tricks and rationalizations we serve ourselves to distract ourselves, just to survive. To get through the day. To endure until tomorrow. To re-imagine what is possible. Or ignore the inevitable. To flirt with meaning. To invite love in. To create a connection. To let go of something toxic. To embrace something raw or something tender. To risk something wonderful. Or scary. Because the risk gleams with promise.
The microcosm of this past year has been the microcosm of my life. Contractions and expansions. Sloughing off and gathering in. There's been some blooming. And some fading. Inner strength toughened. Muscles softened. Authenticity inches one step closer. Understanding melts into compassion. For myself, first of all.
I am learning to hold my imperfections to the light and examine them with less acidity. This single choice alone creates more room for compassion toward others. It's true what the sages say about loving yourself first. I no longer care to be my own worst enemy.
I'll leave that purpose to someone else.
Life Aging burnishes you. And tenderizes your heart. And things fall away. Often by themselves. So many concerns I once worried about- and obsessed over- are beginning to lose their charm, their once magnetic hold on me. What
is important is spinning a new magic, a silvery soft magic that you can almost inhale just before dark, when the sky deepens into that particular November blue and tastes like snow.
I am grateful for so many things this year. For the ongoing privilege of motherhood. For the new family joined to us now in marriage and through heart strings. For old and new friends. For a warm bed shared. For the means to put food on the table (thank you Blogger). For these six years of gypsy living, taking the long way home. For this opportunity to string words together in cyberspace, and share recipes and ramblings with you.
Thank you.
Have a beautiful week. And while we're at it- a spooky-lovely Halloween. A heartwarming Thanksgiving. Small and quiet or big and boisterous. Be well fed, in every way.
A friend was coming by to visit. So I wanted to create a new pumpkin muffin based on my moist and tender
Pumpkin Pie Bread. I thought I'd add walnuts and a streusel topping. And cinnamon. I played around with my recipe and baked a batch of these little golden lovelies.
You could substitute pecans for the walnuts, if you like.
And then go read a page or two of
A Short History of Everything. And we can talk about the whole time-space continuum thing.
It'll blow your mind.
READ MORE and get the recipe ...
