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no tv

I don’t have a TV. I possess one, but it’s not connected to cable service. It’s a perfect situation for watching DVDs. Having a TV was too distracting, and once the darn thing was on, it was too easy to get glued to any silly program. There’s not been one minute when I’ve been the odd one out because of not watching a current reality show. And there’s not been one minute when I’ve pined away for a TV show. It’s been an experiment, and the experiment worked. If you want to know how rewarding it can be, simply unplug.

In the past, when we’d rent a house for the summer, there’d be no TV. It was amusing to see my children’s faces as they ran throughout the house, looking and looking and not finding one, and still not believing there wasn’t one, until they heard the words, “You’re right. There’s no TV.”  Wow!  – what alarmed expressions. This is the interesting part, within a few days they easily adjusted. There was a chance to bike, be with friends, swim in the local pool, hike, read at night – so much to do. It turned out that not having a TV in the good old summertime seemed right.

I’ve since come to realize that there’s a lot to do even when it’s not the good old summertime. When I’m at someone’s house, and the TV is on, it’s entertaining – a quick look and see. After that, it’s out of sight; out of mind. Oh yes.

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kahlil gibran, thomas moore, osho

It was in a small used bookstore in Manhattan that I saw a book titled, THIS MAN FROM LEBANON, written by Barbara Young. It’s a biography of Kahlil Gibran who wrote THE PROPHET, and the author was his friend.

In the book she wrote that his mother was a wise woman, “beyond the wisdom of many mothers. She knew almost in his infancy that the passion for freedom was in his blood, and he was restrained but little.” Later in his life he often said, the author tells us, “I do not see how they endured me. Only my mother, of all the world, could have understood that strange boy. I was a small volcano, a young earthquake.”

I’m always pleased and grateful at the treasure trove of books found in used bookstores.

Then into my hands came the March/April Spirituality&Health magazine, and the article Soul and Science by Thomas Moore. I appreciated having that article to read. Thomas Moore wrote about life and about the fact that science is “. . . taking away its magic and substituting explanation, classifications, and rules.” Indeed. Facts, and more facts. How utterly tiresome. Especially since, if we were ever to let go, we’d see the wonder of our universe. www.spiritualityhealthy.com www.careofthesoul.net/bioframe.htm

And so, after reading the above book and magazine article, I started to think . . . How did it happen that we trust so-called “experts” more than we trust our own selves? We quote statistics, we rely on “fashion experts” to tell us what to wear, we study subjects that hold no interest at the expense of the things we’re passionate about, we believe everything the “food experts” write in magazines and books, and when they change, we change; we go along with whatever we’re told. We accept the words of politicians. We take the drugs prescribed by doctors without extensive questioning, and when someone says, “Do this because if you don’t . . . ”  – fear sets in.

How often do we think, “This is my life, how do I feel about this?” Do we ever ask ourselves, “What is the voice within me saying? If I stop long enough will I hear it? Have I believed the so-called “authority figures” far too long? So long that I’ve lost the ability to think, to trust, to live  by my wits to the extent that I can in today’s world.

Oh dear, it seems that we accept everyone’s opinion but our own

I know Osho was a controversial figure. A lot of deep thinkers have been in one way or another. Maybe the adage to pay attention to the teaching, not the teacher applies here. That being said, Osho lived the way he wrote; he was straightforward. He wrote of freedom and what it means to have it. He wrote of it in all the ways he knew how. He didn’t lump every person into a category saying do it this way because if you don’t . . . . www.osho.com

Imagine a world with unlimited ways of doing things, and learning about them everyday as your life unfolds. You’re the last person to have a say about your life, and you’re willing to accept all that that implies. You take full responsibility for creating a powerful life, according to what that means to you. Imagine that.

Kahlil Gibran felt that kind of freedom. it’s been said many times that we all can if we would stop long enough to pull away from the world’s noises, and quiet our mind.

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on owning a b&b

In Malta I spent three weeks at the Jean Paul Guesthouse in Bugibba before moving to an apartment. “The British” as in, “Did you have an enjoyable British breakfast?” and “The British come every year.” – were regular customers there. The guesthouse had a lively group . . . of British, and the times we hung out together were about storytelling, light drinking, and lots of laughs. Lilian and Salvo were the owners. She was the cook and he stayed, more or less, in the background mingling with customers and keeping the guests happy in his gracious way. They were good at what they did. Since that time, I’ve come to understand that a B&B is consuming in every possible way.

Lilian was an excellent cook, and the decision always was whether to stay at the B&B and enjoy her cooking, or go out. It’s so easy to travel around Malta, bus rides are pleasant in that one travels speedily in a rickety vehicle, talking to other tourists, who were mostly British or German – and a few friendly Maltese, while passing cities, and taking mental notes for future explorations.

Note: Lilian and Salvo eventually sold the B&B (the British will surely miss them); but, they needed a rest.

And it wasn’t so long ago when a friend of mine kept me informed of the goings on of a friend of hers who for years dreamt of having her very own B&B. She filled the commercial freezer in her Manhattan apartment with breads and scones, and all the foods that people enjoy when at a B&B. She was fine-tuning her cooking skills.

Then the time came for her dream to come true. She and her husband purchased a B&B for big bucks in a beautiful Cape Cod area. Within a year, the woman whose life-long dream was to own a B&B, was ready to throw in the towel. She said the guests at her B&B were too demanding. She was so busy catering to their every need that she didn’t have time to bake her own breads and scones – she sent someone to purchase them every mornIng. I suspect she should have opened a bakery instead of a B&B.

My daughters and I used to go to Avon-by-the Sea at the Jersey shore. We always went to the same B&B even though it went through three different owners in a short span of time. The B&B was in a big house close to the beach. The last owner grew up not far from the area, then moved to California and became a teacher. When she retired she wanted to realize her dream of owning a B&B. Does it have a familiar ring? She told us she’d been to 17 banks before getting the money to purchase. And that happened due to the kindness of a banker who gave her a few very, very important tips. She was a determined one. Her B&B was charming. In the hallway surrounding the rooms were bookcases filled with her favorite books. She designed comfortable and charming rooms in exactly the way you imagine a B&B room to be. She put a lot of love into her business. However, within a few years, she was gone. The last time we called to reserve a room, there was a new owner. The new owner said that the previous owner is okay; that was good to know. But, I wondered,  what happened?

Of course, not all stories end with new ownership of a B&B every few years, but whether they do or not, does it matter? The important thing is that people found the wherewithal to follow their dreams. Sometimes you have to buy a B&B to get to where you’re going, it could be a path to something else in the form of a detour, an experience where an important skill is acquired along the way – a steppingstone to the real dream.

It’s all good. Right?

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a cell phone call

Last week I was that annoying person on a cell phone in a public place. The phone call went on, and although I could have ended it, it would have set the wrong tone for resuming the conversation at a later time. So, I didn’t end it. However, it was easy to sense that those around were just a little disquieted. Since that time, I realized that sometimes it’s necessary to allow the call, even when it is a bit disturbing to those around because some callers simply need to talk at that particular time whether it’s business or personal. And when you have no where to go, what are you to do?

In the past, I wasn’t annoyed when an adult conversation took place in a mature way. What was annoying was when someone talked on and on about their trials and tribulations, sending a flash of uneasiness in the area of those having to listen. The one source of comfort in that situation is enjoying the fact that you’re not the one at the other end of that call. Then there are those days when all is subdued, you’re in a quiet place, or using public transportation, or reading a book, or having a pleasant dining experience, suddenly an irritating voice comes out of nowhere, the subjects being discussed are office politics and a relationship gone wrong (very wrong), and you’re taken aback. Then again, there are those phone conversations that are really funny, and you don’t mind being a part of it, and you think to yourself, this person should have a talk show. I wonder whether they’re in the entertainment field. They’re hilarious. And you silently say, thanks for the laughs.

But, alas, my phone conversation last week on public transportation wasn’t of that ilk, and so I apologize to those who sat patiently waiting til it ended, and to those who directed a hairy eyeball my way, I say sometimes a call can’t be ended just like that. I know though that you wanted peace and quiet with your newspaper before returning home. I’m sorry if I disrupted the flow for you. But I must explain that the engines were louder than usual which caused the voice to be louder than usual. And as I’m writing, it’s dawning on me how loud it all must have been then.

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a way

Eckhart Tolle writes over and over that, “The quality of your consciousness at this moment is what shapes the future.” This has been written in many languages, in untold ways, in areas all over the world, since ancient times. And it appears that it’s true. But the only way we’ll know for sure whether it’s true or not is to prove it to ourselves. There’s a movie, The Secret, that’s capturing people’s attention. Out of the blue someone starts talking about it. I know people who are watching it a few times a week. It’s also going around by word of mouth. It appears to have a hold on people. It sounds like a perfect bedtime movie. I haven’t watched it yet, but I’m finding it nice just to listen to the comments from people who have. Perhaps it, too, says the same things as Eckhart Tolle’s writings in that it’s proclaiming there’s another way to be in this world. Bookshops, new and used, have always had an assortment of writings by authors who’ve tried to tell us, all in their own fashion, that there’s a far better way to live in this world than the way we’ve been taught. They’re all saying that it’s time to listen up.

Eckhart Tolle’s writings are centered in the present moment, and from there he discusses the mind, and a whole slew of ways it has of taking us away from the present moment and keeping us in ego mode. Essentially, he tells us that it controls us. Again and again he takes us back to the present moment. He says it’s all we’ll ever have. When we begin to practice this present moment living, we start to become aware of what we say and how we say it. And when we find ourselves stressed, overwhelmed, exhausted, we realize we’ve strayed from present moment time. He has a lot to say about the ego, the monkey mind, relationships, stress, and all the other ways we have of keeping ourselves in a form of bondage. However, we’ll never know the truth of it until we make it our own.

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snow

From my window I’m watching people shovel. Some are happy shovelers. Other are not enjoying it at all. In fact, there’s an argument -someone’s not doing his share of removing snow from a car. An elderly woman looking like an experienced shoveler is out also; she’s no-nonsense-just get the job done. Reminds me of my yankee upbringing.

How beautiful Central Park looks with snow. The park has its own kind of beauty all four seasons; it’s very different when covered in snow. What a great day for the park, for children and children at heart. And it’s Saturday. Kids, small and big, will slide down a little hill using cardboard, sled, or the newest contraption. It’s a delight walking around the park on a day like today. I’m not a huge fan of the cold, but this kind of a day somehow makes it okay. Ice skaters at Wollman Rink will look postcard perfect. Photographers will meander about looking for wonderful winter scenes to shoot. Horses and carriages will wend their way in the park looking lost in time. Couples holding hands will walk slowly. Memories will be made. Tourists will enjoy the wonder of it all. Central Park can do that, if you let it. A snowman or two, or more, will put a smile on your face. Maybe you’re thinking of building your own endearing one, or funny one. Have you brought a few carrots with you, and an extra hat to spare, and don’t forget the twigs, can you reach them?

There’s snow; let’s go.

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a sentence in a movie

There’s a sentence in the movie, A Good Year; it’s this: “We’ll just have to make sure our buyers don’t know anything about wine. We’ll concentrate on the Americans.” If you saw the movie, did you laugh when you heard it? I wanted to retract what I wrote about wine and my lack of knowledge. Are we really the low ones on the totem pole when it comes to producing a great wine? Do we not take our vineyards as seriously as say, who are those people? Let me think a minute. Ah, yes, -the French? Or is it the Italians, or all those other countries with their bottles of wine on the shelves in American liquor stores, with their sometimes elegant, whimisical, simple, or silly lables. Do we need more catching-up time? Or was that sentence put in the movie to get back at an American? A joke, perhaps? Yes, that must be it. Right?

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a crowd at the station

This week an early evening train was late leaving Grand Central Terminal. The scheduled time to depart had arrived and gone, and the train was nowhere in sight. Trains at GCT sometimes have mechanical problems, from what I’ve experienced though, they’re not late. The crowd was growing bigger and bigger. As I looked at all the people standing in front of the track, I realized that people show their trust in others on a daily basis.

Not knowing what usually happens when a train is late, I stayed at the tail end of the crowd thinking that maybe the track number would change, and the crowd would rush en masse to a different location. The group of people next to me were not at all annoyed by the lateness of the train. Someone made a comment about the expected snowstorm this week. We noticed the woman with a beautiful tan and beautiful vacationer’s glow standing with us and looked in her direction. Someone asked her where she’d been. She said she was in Mexico, and we all wanted to know where in Mexico. “The Yucatan”, she said, and began talking about the Mayan culture, and then about the catholic church’s presence in Mexico, and about the many Mexican catholics who know little about the Mayan culture. A practicing catholic probably would have slipped away right about now. What could one say? We began our personal stories of growing up catholic. Oh, yes, it was interesting and strangely funny at the same time. And unusual in that there stood at that moment a random group of catholics waiting together and talking about their expereinces of g up c. www.mayacalendar.com/mayalink.html

The train came and off we went in different directions.

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kitchen confidential by anthony bourdain

I’ve eaten at Les Halles a number of times. It’s one of the places Anthony Bourdain can be found when he’s not traveling the world seeking new dining experiences. And it’s always been a positive dining experience.

Now I’m slowing reading his book KITCHEN CONFIDENTIAL. It’s outrageous, brutally honest, funny, informative, off the wall, all-the-way genuine, and a little sad. Did I say it’s entertaining? It’s that, too, and a wee bit shocking – depending on one’s sensibilities. The author shares with us, shall we say, his “growing pains”- the lows and the highs of his years in the restaurant business. You might pause, once in a while, after reading a particular paragraph, and wonder whether that bit of information will somewhat diminish your dining pleasure. We’ve all heard restaurant stories, though maybe not to the degree written in this book.

One thing is perfectly clear, the life of a chef, restaurant owner, and all the people whose efforts contribute to the plate of the delicious-looking something brought to our table, is not a piece of cake, as Anthony Bourdain tells us in numerous ways. If you have thoughts of opening a restaurant, better to read Kitchen Confidential before taking one step in that direction. Then you can say you went into the business with eyes wide open.. – www.leshalles.net

Want to know about the bread placed in front of you, the weekend brunches you so enjoy, Bigfoot, and lots of other tidbits? Kitchen Comfidential will give you the low-down. Lol, I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I did.