“In letting someone else into your life, you open to the risk of being astonished. For intimacy to remain alive, the other must remain a mystery for you. To know someone intimately is to embody the unknown. … Over time, you tend to enclose the other within limits that define them according to your own needs and desires.”

In the Biology lab in high school there was a cross-section model of an animal cell that sat open-faced like a deep dish pizza with shiny plastic organelles and candy-coated membranes. I remember the disillusionment I felt when I looked at a tissue specimen under the microscope for the first time. I didn’t see a vibrant spectrum of miniature life, only monochromatic shades of lucid pink blobs. Real life seemed indistinct, messy, and generally unimpressive. I realize now that I was unsettled not by the lack of clarity of the “real thing”, but a feeling of disillusionment with the teacher that told me that the plastic model was a cell, as if there was no lurking mystery to consider. Since I had exchanged imagination for certainty somewhere around age 12, I remember feeling panic, even crying in frustration, when an answer felt unconstrained, accompanied by dangling threads of questions.

My real coming of age was when I became excited again about the pulsating uncertainty that applied its push and pull on everything inside and outside of me. But this discovery was at the cost of the intimacy, which I held to the only standard I knew, the binding and unquestionable love of my parents. When my world of certainty was shaken, I adopted the attitude that my flesh-encased being was aligned against an unknowable and unpredictable universe. I became focused upon the struggle to control my place in time and space, for no greater reason that to invest in my personal survival. But something shifted when I met my husband.

When we enter into a relationship, we are held in union through implicit ethical bonds. As Stephen Batchelor writes, ahimsa is the plea to “not harm me”; and forms the basis of our shared experience. Mutual attraction brings a charged energy in the space between you and I. Like covalent bonds held together through an electrical exchange, we are bonded by our mutual agreed ethics of ahimsa. Along with the attraction, we are tempered by our awareness of the mystery present in the space in between us. Brahmacharya, the wise use of creative sexual energy holds the dimension of mystery between us.

Unfettered sexual energy may cause us to crash into each other, seeking to implant the space of mystery with certainty. But through Brahmacharya, the wise use of sexual energy, we allow space for our creative energy to condition each other, and to play. Former Buddhist monk Alan Clements defines Dharma as simply “the nature of the process”. In holding space for mystery, we respect each other’s Dharma; our nature of being an emergent process, not a fixed self embedded in the forces of time and space.

If the space of mystery is not honoured in relationship, we do not encourage each other to express the uncertainty of our self-perception, we are not tolerant of mistakes. If you did not respect my mystery, it would not be safe for me to say “Help! I do not know why I did/keeping doing/desire to do this” . Without space for mystery, we expect from each other what we think to be true: the patterns formed by our past perceptions. If your changing self diverges from, or collides with, my perception of who you are, the relationship can only be held for a limited period of time. Intimacy does not thrive in an environment of fixed patterns, or samskaras. If I am not there to support your creativity, the space between us becomes void of mystery, and the bonds that held us in intimacy lose their strength.

Play happens in the space of mystery. Even observing a game with established rules is enticing because of the mystery held in the relationship of the players, and the outcome they co-create. When we are intimate with another, we allow ourselves to play. When my face is set in a frown, I see you dance by with a knowing glance in the corner of your eye; you remind me to release into purposeful purposelessness.

When I was twenty, I had a question mark (?) tattooed on my ankle. It reminds me to resist becoming complacent with the perceived worth of co-opted ideas. Through the act of questioning, I do not mean to ultimately solve the unknown, but to probe the space of uncertainty for inspiration to evolve. My love of this life includes the conditions that make it unique to me.

Mushrooms

6 Portabello mushroom caps (spores scraped out with spoon). Place face up on cookie sheet with a bit of olive oil beneath. Bake for 15 minutes at 425 to remove some (not all) of the excess moisture.

Stuffing

Sautee the following in olive oil:

1 medium fennel bulb, chopped fine
2 cloves garlic
1 medium eggplant (diced in small cubes)
1 spartan/mactintosh/baking apple with peel removed
salt & pepper

when the above has sauteed / softened, remove from heat and add:
a few tablespoons of fresh thyme & oregano
1 cup brazil nuts (pulsed through food processor – I left them a bit chunky
2 tablesppons of apple vingear

Stuff the mushrooms.

Add a small cube piece of unripened goat cheese on top of stuffing.

Bake under boiler for 5-10 minutes.

Add chopped green onions and add as garnish.

We also had a yam salad with a silken tofu dressing and pea shoots (with rosemary). Amazing! And sauteed vegetables.

Ingredients:

2 medium eggplant
4 Roma tomatoes
2 bell peppers
1 medium onion
1 500ml can chickpeas
1/2 cup pistachios
garlic & ginger
cumin
hot chili pepper ( or powdered)
ground cloves
cardamon
allspice
turmeric
paprika
cinnamon (dash)

Directions

Turn on broiler.

Slice eggplant 1/2″ thick. Salted and left to sit to sponge out some of the water (optional step but they’re less mushy). Rinse. Toss with oil olive & pepper.

4 Roma or cherry tomatoes
2 sweet bell peppers
Chop tomatoes and peppers (chunks / cubes). Toss with tsp olive oil, s & p and roast them (20 mins).

In pot/frying pan/wok:

1 medium onion (white or yellow)
garlic to taste
a few tbsp of chopped ginger
olive oil to saute til onion is clear

Spices (these are approximate measurements!):

1 teaspoon cumin
chopped hot chili pepper ( or powdered)
1/4 teaspoon ground cloves
1/2 teaspoon cardamon
dash of allspice
1/4 teaspoon turmeric
1/4 teaspoon paprika
1/8 teaspoon cinnamon (dash)

1 500ml can chickpeas
1/2 cup pistachios

Add roasted tomatoes and peppers. If you need a bit more liquid add a bit of water.

Salt to taste.

Let the mixture simmer for 20mins. In the meantime broil eggplant slabs.

When eggplant is done, serve bean mixture on top of eggplant slabs. Garnish with sour cream / Greek yogurt & parsley.

Note: This could be made simpler by not roasting the peppers and tomato, and just adding them into the onion and cooking them that way. The roasting was nice to bring out the flavor.

Quinoa Salad

quinoa, cooked & tossed
celery, chopped
sauteed onion & garlic
golden raisins
sliced green olives
olive oil
similar spice mixture to the above but a ground coriander in equal parts to cumin
salt & pepper
1 medium orange squeezed

Ingredients:

2 tbsp olive/canola oil
2 tsp dark sesame oil
1 small chopped red onion
1-2 clove(s) garlic
2 tbsp ginger (more or less, depending on how much you like ginger)
1 cauliflower head
6 crimini mushrooms
1 can baby corn
1 block firm tofu
green kafir lime leaves (Thrifty’s carries these now in the fresh herb section)
2 tbsp soy sauce/tamari
1/4 cup sweet chili sauce

Method

In a large wok, heat 1 tbsp olive/canola oil mixed with 1 tsp sesame oil (or a big pot)

add…
chopped onion, saute til translucent
crushed garlic and chopped ginger
cauliflower (cut up into florets)
mushrooms
tamari
kafir lime leaves, whole (like bay leaves you can take them out at the end)

Cook on med-high heat. If you have a lid, cover the veggies for a couple minutes to get some moisture in the pan and then take the lid, stir and keep frying.

meanwhile in a frypan

using the other half of the oils, saute the tofu over medium heat til all sides are browned
splash a bit of tamari in for flavour

Add tofu to stirfry
Add ~1/4 cup of sweet chili sauce (more or less depending on desired taste)
Add baby corn

Stir together and let it cook together for a few minutes.

Serve over rice!

The past two years have been the most fulfilling years of my life. Although we are always recreating ourselves, in this particular time I have been especially aware of the shifts in my priorities, interests, understanding of myself, and my capacity to hold space with others.

In this new chapter of life, the right side of my brain has been re-awakened, and continues to undergo intensive training. From my husband Ian’s encouragement, who keeps fanning the spark in me, I am ready to be where I am.

There’s stuff I’d like to share (ideas, music, recipes, inspirations). The yoga studio floor has become my venue for exchange in the offline world. Here is my offering to the extended online community.

Thanks for visiting,

Karen

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Disclaimer: These are going to be outward-facing rambles, I’m prioritizing sleep over properly structured posts!

Ahimsa means non-harming or non-violence. It’s the first yama (observance) of classical yoga, and fittingly it became the first subject put forth in the yoga intensive today.

Ahimsa can be projected outwards on inwards, but it radiates from the same source within us. In our formal yoga practice (aka on-the-mat) it’s easiest to frame and observe the inward-facing reflection of ahimsa. So here we go.

My first thought on ahimsa is that I’ve made some positive strides lately. Ian and I have decided for the month of November to forgo alcohol. It’s an experiment to see what comes up when we replace the habitual evening glass of wine with meditation. Like replacing white rice with quinoa on our dinner plate… something like that. I enjoy wine, so I don’t expect this to be a long term thing, but an experiment is fun or at least interesting. But it is also an action of ahimsa, kindness to my body and encouragement to my spirit to allow things to arise naturally, without intoxicants, however mild. Don’t talk to me about sugar… I’m not ready to go there yet!

I focused the classes I taught today on ahimsa too. Near the end of the first class, while the group was in reclined bound angle, (a good pose to unleash some verbal yogic journeying) I asked them, “What are you doing to yourself that is harming you?“. I suggested they bring to mind a pattern, relationship, tendency within themselves that they knew on some level was hurtful. “We know…. we know… but we just can’t help it.”

While I was sitting quiet this evening, the phrase came back to me. “I can’t help it”. We know what we do may be harmful to ourselves, but we can’t. help. it. We spit out this line without much thought to the implication of what we’re saying. But it’s interesting to study. What are we really saying? (try repeating it a few times in reference to something you do then slap your wrist over)

A couple questions to ponder here:

1) What is “it” that you can’t help? What is this piece of you that is being veiled by the harmful pattern in question? What’s down there to uncover?

2) If you can’t help it, what are you turning to external to yourself to help with “it”? What do you feel is better than you to solve or soothe your “it”.

One last thought before I call it an evening. Guilt. It tends to creep up for me whenever I identify something that I’m doing that’s harmful, whether to myself or others. And I have even thought “guilt is good, it’s motivation to change for the better.” But I’m feeling tonight that as long as that feeling is “charged” with guilt, anger, lust, whatever… that it’s like a magnet to iron filings. It’s not going anywhere, it has sway. If you really want to shift some pattern within you, you’ve likely got to neutralize it. To accept it.

Yes I harm myself when I do X. Maybe it’ll be a mantra. Repetitiously beat the charge out of it. Eek! That doesn’t sound like ahimsa to me… oh well. All in time.