Today we have our first snowfall on the ground, and I have my first little cold of the season.  Back soon.

The third yama is asteya, or nonstealing. Asteya serves as a wake-up call, prompting us to remember all the ways, big and small, that we steal – the borrowed books still on our shelves, the corners we cut on our taxes, the hours we spend at work not being productive. As we begin to consciously practice asteya, we also see just where and how we need to change. Suddenly we are no longer comfortable with the rationalizations and compromises we have been making.

At a deeper level, asteya is our first encounter with the power of nonattachment. When we look honestly at the ways in which we have been stealing, we come to understand that in each instance, there is an attachment to a specific result that overrides our deeper values. We want the last orange in the refigerator more than we want to be a good partner. We had a tough week at work, so we will undertop the waitress at the diner. Beneath the attachment, we find fear: fear that we will not get what we need; fear that if we leave things up to the universe, we will not be taken care of. This sutra declares the opposite to be true: “When abstention from stealing is firmly established, precious jewels come.” In other words, the surest way to get what you want is to let go of wanting. What is required, then, is a radical, absolute, living trust in the workings of the universe. This trust is the spiritual opposite of the act of stealing, and accompanied by right action, it removes the blocks to our natural abundance.

Try to breathe. Breathe deeply, and often. Before she wakes up, push your giant pregnant self up out of bed and go downstairs. Pratice anoloma viloma and try to balance yourself enough that you are ready to be a peaceful warrior.

Take comfort in any small thing you can. Five minutes where she is playing quietly, a small object of beauty made by your hands, the song she sings about the river.

Let it go as quickly as she does. When the storm passes, and she is snuggling and telling you she loves you, drop your anger and enter that space with her.

Forget about what you thought your day should look like, or what you thought you could get done.

Cultivate radical patience, radical acceptance. This is your child and you do love her.

Happy Fall everyone!

Well, it’s a bit late, but I thought I’d share our September menu. In many ways, I’m working to simplify life here at home, getting ready for baby to arrive this winter. For more than a year now, I’ve been making weekly menus, but I decided it was time to take the plunge to set a menu for the month. It’s been great – no reinventing the wheel each week, and there’s enough flexibility in the menu that we definitely aren’t getting bored, and I’m able to use whatever vegetables we have. It’s also allowed me to focus on using what’s in excess right now – tons of lamb (our own! so amazing!) and duck in the freezer, and lots of tomatoes.

September Menu

Monday – fajita style vegetables, beans, and corn bread
Tuesday – lamb, greens, potatoes
Wednesday – leftovers, or we eat a the farmer’s market
Thursday – tomato soup and grilled cheese sandwiches
Friday – duck, potatoes, green veggies, fresh bread
Saturday – Meat and Veggie Pie with Biscuit Topping (I got this idea from an amish cookbook, and it’s brilliant. Basically you take any leftover meats and veggies from the week, throw them in a pot, put biscuit dough on top and bake it. I set some biscuit dough aside for Sunday morning breakfast.)
Sunday – homemade pizza (a great way to use any random vegetables, plus cheese)

Other random cooking thoughts . . .
I made Heidi’s Magic Sauce, and it’s awesome. I was intrigued that it could be salad dressing, veggie sauce, or go on meats, and it really does work for all of those. Awesome.  Now I really want to make her Brown Sugar Rosemary Walnuts, but probably less sweet.
I did make the Green Tomato Relish from Putting Up, and Ben says it’s delicious. Also, I made ketchup for the first time, using the recipe from Putting it Up with Honey (my favorite preserving book of all). It was easier than I anticipated, and so so delicious.

It’s time for pie, don’t you agree?  So far I’ve made two apple pies and one squash pie.  For the squash pie, I used my standard recipe, but I didn’t have any heavy cream so I made it without.  Now, I am a big fan of cream, but to my surprise it was even better without!  Just squash, egg, a bit of maple syrup, and some spices.  Super duper good.  If you like pies, you should really check out the book Tarts with Tops On (both savory and sweet recipes).  As far as I’m concerned, it’s the only pie reference you need, except I do prefer Keller’s piecrust recipe.

There have been a lot of posts floating through my mind this past week, but this is probably the only one I’ll write, because it’s the one that really matters.  On Thursday, my husband is driving from our home in MA to Washington D.C. , to get arrested trying to stop the XL Keystone Tar Sands Pipeline.  As we’ve prepared for this, it’s been truly frightening how few people even know this is happening.  522 protesters so far have been arrested, including organizer Bill McKibben.  So what is it?  Why would my husband abandon farm, bakery, and pregnant wife and four year old daughter for four days and drive so far to get handcuffed, to join the largest act of civil disobedience in climate action history?

He’s going because he loves us.  Because as NASA’s top scientist Dr. James Hansen put it, building this pipeline will be “Game Over” for climate change.  The tar sands are a “carbon bomb” and if we open them up to try and extract oil (which will take more energy to release then we’ll get from them), we will release all of that carbon into atmosphere.  All of the work that conscientious individuals and nations have done to try and reduce carbon emissions will be worthless.  Rapidly rising sea levels, chaotic weather, failed food crops and starvation are not the legacy that we are passing down to our daughter.  And taking four days out of our “normal” life to say so is not a big sacrifice.

The good news about this disgusting project, which would take oil from Canada’s tar sands and pump it all the way down to the Gulf of Mexico, is that because the project will cross the US-Canada border, President Obama has to give his approval to the project.  This doesn’t go through Congress – Obama alone has the power to stop it.  And that’s why protesters are gathering to demand that he stop this abomination, which is equal to genocide on a planet-wide scale.

As Rose Marie Berger, a peace activist said, “the point was not to get arrested. The point was to make of our lives a living witness. To make it clear that climate change has gone too far and we are no longer going to stand idly by while our sisters, brothers, and home planet are torn apart by oil companies.”  It is so easy to be trapped into thinking that our actions are too small to matter.  I believe, though, that all of our actions have more impact than we will ever know – even if they don’t make the exact change at the exact time that we are hoping, all of our actions create an impact.  We are all living witnesses, the question is, of what?  Greed, excess, and an inability to see past today’s comforts and “stability”?  Or a dedication to helping all living beings, a belief that we are all one, a love of service and simplicity?

So.  Join me, at the very least, in sending prayers and thanks to the 2,000 people who are going to D.C. to exercise their right to peaceful protest.  Call the White House today 202-456-1111 and tell them you want President Obama to say no to the Keystone Pipeline.  Go to 350.org to learn more, and go to tarsandsaction to join them – there’s a large rally on Sept 3, the final day of protests.

If you’re in western MA and you want to join Ben, send us an email (wheatberryma @ gmail.com).  And even if you can’t go, send him your love, and tell him thank you.

There is so much to love in late summer.  Right now, it’s actually chilly and pouring – we lit a fire in the woodstove today so that the laundry would dry, but that was fun, too!

It’s interesting to look back on previous years at tomato time, and to see how it always seems equal parts satisfying and overwhelming.

Right now, we seem to be spending most of our day in the kitchen.  I’m so grateful to be eating and cooking again, and my cooking philosophy these days seems to be, Cooking something?  Why not fill every burner on the stove and bake something in the oven while you’re at it?  A little ridiculous, and also awesome.  In the past two days, we’ve made these herbal coughdrops, oatmeal bread (recipe from the Laurel’s Kitchen Bread Book), canned tomatoes, moussaka, apricot-blueberry crisp, Amanda’s Carrot-Tomato Soup, pumpkin-hazelnut biscuits, and more canned tomatoes.  Somehow I seem to have hardly made a dent in the tomato crop.  A good problem to have, I know.  Especially this winter, when with a brand new little baby it will be even more incredible than usual to open a jar of tomatoes, heat it in the saucepan, and declare, “Dinner’s done!”  Yes indeedy.

We’re also beginning to ease into our homeschooling rhythm for the year.  Our supplies have arrived (mostly from the wonderful Meadowsweet Naturals, thank you Pamela & family) and my plans are made through May.  I’m re-reading Simplicity Parenting, rising early in the mornings, and generally feeling more at peace than I have in quite a while.  Today, Ella and I took a walk in the pouring rain and it was lovely.  We saw wild hops ready to harvest, and elderberries just starting to turn.  She’s asking when the snow will come, and cracking herself up into hysteric giggles.  I’m loving this incredible four year old, who spends most of her day in make believe, who can cut tomatoes with a sharp knife, and so often wants to help.  This girl who says to me one night as she is falling asleep, “Mama, I wish we were at Lake Wyola.  (pause)  When will I die?”  Which pretty much sums up how most of us spend our thoughts if we are not careful, doesn’t it?  Wishing we were somewhere else, and wondering how long it will all last.

Right now, we are ready for the crisp fall to arrive, but also savoring these days of melons and peaches and blooming flowers.  I hope you are, too, friends.

Late Fragment
by Raymond Carver

And did you get what
you wanted from this life, even so?
I did.
And what did you want?
To call myself beloved, to feel myself
beloved on the earth.

I’m thinking about this:

“Your task is not to seek for love, but merely to seek and find all the barriers within yourself that you have built against it.” – Rumi -

and also, this:

“. . . a Hassidic story [tells] of a wealthy man who invited his Rabbi over for dinner. The man brags that he eats only bread with salt and drinks only water. The horrified rabbi urges the wealthy man to eat rich, nutritious meals and to drink wine. Upon telling his disciples of the encounter, they are puzzled. The rabbi explains, “Not until he eats meat will he realize that the poor need bread. As long as he himself eats only bread, he will think the poor can live on stones.”"

I’m thinking about all your responses to my post on striving, and about how going to extremes can isolate us, from our communities, from joy itself.  Thinking about how as we’ve journeyed these past ten years to bring our life in line with our values, it was truly exciting as each step fell into place (local humanely raised meat!  eco-friendly washing detergent in bulk!  get rid of the second car!).  At a certain point, though, we made all those big changes, and then we looked around for more.  Instead of satisfaction, I found myself driven to make any effort to do right – and I think this is the tipping point that takes us away from what we really want. Do we ask ourselves to live such ascetic lives that we resent those around us?  That we no longer follow our path with love?  I think that if we don’t enjoy these blessings we are given, it’s just as bad as squandering or hoarding them.

If you’re interested, I think it would be fun to look back on the last decade on talk about some of these steps we’ve taken – to help those of you who are still struggling with the Big Ones.  Let me know – and don’t forget that the Giveaway I posted yesterday is still open.

This week, a brand new washing machine arrives at our house.  Many of you know that I’ve been washing all of our clothes by hand for the past year (with a few exceptions, when I’ve been sick or otherwise overwhelmed, and I went to the laundromat).  Last fall, I sold our old noisy washing machine and dryer, and rejoiced at the space in our kitchen.  Those of you coming here from my Rhythm of the Home article may be surprised, but I’m pretty darn excited to bring in a new, super efficient washing machine.  I’m grateful for the experience, but I’m ready to move forward.

If my miscarriage last month made anything clear, it was that I needed to chill out.  Probably a lot.  I am a classic Type A Overachiever, a perfectionist, a “I don’t want to be perfect, I just want to be at least as good as everyone else, preferably better” type of person.  Not consciously usually, but that is, if I am brutally honest, what lies beneath.  And isn’t it that way for many of us?  I look around myself and I see so many people trying so hard, striving so much, that we are neglecting our most basic needs.  We live in an age of crazy luxury, and yet we don’t even feed ourselves properly.  We feel too stressed and harassed to show kindness, to ourselves or strangers. The most odd thing about this is that we think it’s our strength.

I know I did.  I could say, laughingly, Oh haha, I’m such a perfectionist.  But I thought that was my advantage.  I’ve been thinking about trying to slow down, trying to create peace and space in my life for quite some time now, but I didn’t really get it until this past month.  I didn’t understand that what I thought was my secret weapon was also torturing me.

Partly, our success blinds us.  Striving hard can bring good things into your life, but if you can’t slow down a bit and enjoy them, what good is it?  Sometimes our striving can work in the exact opposite of what we’re trying for.  I’m thinking of environmental activists who fly around the globe talking about climate change (flying creating a lot of CO2 emissions, of course).  I’m thinking of farmers, or even ourselves when we first opened our cafe, who are working so insanely hard to make real food for people that they can’t make their own dinner and order take-out.

Sometimes, these things are a phase, a period of craziness in our lives that we need to accept and get through.  But can we let go of the adrenaline once the need is gone?

Here, I’m trying to strive a little less.  I’m ready to believe that I don’t have to be the world’s best ecological citizen to be a good citizen.  Or the world’s best mother to be a good mother.  On and on.

I bought a washing machine.  I didn’t like my patchwork rug, so I ripped it out, and I didn’t feel bad about it, I felt free.  Some days the floor is clean, some days it isn’t.  I am trying to breathe a little deeper, to ask myself to remember what I’m really working towards – raising a healthy, loving family, serving my community in a positive way, being able to find time to roll out my yoga mat or pick up my knitting needles, and just enjoy.

And you?  Are you ready to be simply good at something, instead of the best?  Wishing you some peace this week, friends.  Thank you for taking these moments here with me.

Have a great weekend everyone!