so seemingly small,
to the whole universe
as tiny whispers
like the sounds
of butterfly wings,
and the clear voice
of the living truth.
We got some spicy dried mangos at the local co-op this week, and this sprouted quinoa salad evolved in an inspired moment. Quinoa contains the highest amount of protein of all the grains, and has an alkaline effect on the body. Eat as a meal, or as a side dish.
1/2 cup sprouted quinoa
3-4 tablespoons green onions
3-4 tablespoons raw cashews
3-4 tablespoons dried mangos, diced
1/8 teaspoon Himalayan or Celtic salt
Several shakes of cayenne pepper
Fresh lime juice squeezed on top
Drizzle of oil
Optional ingredient: 1 teaspoon minced cilantro
Directions:Use a sprouting jar.
Soak quinoa for 3 to 4 hours. Rinse and drain.
After rinsing, keep jar turned upside down to allow for air circulation.
Rinse twice a day, draining well each time.
Depending on sprouting conditions, quinoa will be ready in 1-2 days.
Sprouted quinoa stores well in the refrigerator, and will continue to sprout slowly. Be sure to rinse and drain well each day.
Assemble all ingredients in a bowl, mix, and enjoy.
A Little Story: Then and Now
The energy of the full flush of youth radiates through this old family photo that was taken of my mother and her brother when they were at the beach in 1945. Both have left this world in the last five months, each dying from cancer. It was only three short months ago that my mother was vibrant and full of energy, still teaching her tap classes at age 82, before an aggressive brain tumor struck. When I see such beauty, as in the photo, I am reminded at how important it is to take good care of ourselves (and each other), doing the best we can to ensure optimum health every day.
In the wake of healing from these losses, we're gradually getting our lives back in order by resting, taking baths, sitting outside in the sun, and doing our spiritual contemplations. I wish I could say that we stayed completely raw during the last few months as we became Mom's primary caretakers, but it just didn't happen. With everything we had to do to help, and with family and friends visiting to say their last good-byes, our cooked food intake increased.
There just wasn't the time, nor did we have enough energy, to fix food for everyone along with making enough raw food to maintain a 100% raw food diet. Juice or green smoothies weren't enough to provide the caloric intake our bodies needed, although we did have these nourishing foods. So instead of sprouting quinoa or lentils, we fell back into some of our pre-raw food patterns and cooked these foods or had steamed veggies. We were filled up, but our energy levels actually dropped—we had less "sparkle", less clarity—all the things we needed the most. Now that we're healing, and a more normal schedule has returned, our ideal diet has reemerged almost effortlessly, rising up like a new day.
As we went through what felt like an ordeal, we could only hope that in time all would be mended, energy restored, balance reestablished. And, that my mother would penetrate and pass into the deepest mystery, and be released into the loving hands of God.
We know that had it not been for the love and prayers that came from family and friends we probably wouldn't have been able to do what we were called upon to do—as all of our strength and reserve were gone long before Mom took her last breath. We truly kept going on by this love, gifts of grace that were bestowed upon us by so many of you. We whisper into your hearts, deeply and profoundly, thank you.
Here are two poems I wrote the month before she passed. The photo is from the island. Note the small black spot on the right—a person walking.
There is a woman, a persona of myself, crying on a hilltop.
She looks out to the great expanse of the sea
to the all encompassing Ocean,
glowing with inner light.
The angel of death hovers on the horizon,
floats above the water,
moves closer as the cosmic tide advances.
She is white and luminous,
not dark and boney.
The angel is poised to come with the new moon.
The tumor grows daily with conscious intent.
It reveals, "I have almost completed my mission".
A sound slides across the waters
and enters the woman's heart.
The transcendent spirit
reaches out to touch her.
Far below, at the shore,
a figure dressed in black, stands alone.
She is dark and smallish, diminished, like a life ended.
She too is looking out to sea.
I can only watch and wait.
The pale silver tear
falls into the deep blue,
A holy ribbon stretches across the sky.
The hand of God reaches, fingers nearly touching.
The heart is sighing
like wind passing through the trees.
I lay this body down.
The morning dove sings its song of reclamation.
And feathers lift the Soul, now weightless and free.
It feels like there are a thousand words to share, but it all comes down to only one.... love.... Every action, every event, all the cards and calls and emails from friends and family, and all of her life, all distilled and came down to this one thing, to love—the expression of countless variations of this Ocean of Love flowing through our lives.