Whip it. Whip it Good.

We live in a chemical laden world, my dears. Whether you're eating a steak, a frozen dinner, or a strawberry, chances are you are you're also ingesting an injected growth hormone, preservative, or pesticide. Gak! I think I'm being virutous when I clean my apartment every Saturday, but as I scrub and wipe, I'm inhaling plenty of harsh, harmful checmicals into my lungs. And as if eating and breathing them weren't enough, we also slather them onto our skin in the form of soaps, moisturizers, makeup, hair products, perfumes, etc.

A quick search on Google will provide you with store bought alternatives to regular chemical packed fair. You can buy organic or farmer's market produce. You can pay a pretty penny for "green" cleaning supplies and eco-friendly toiletries. A cheaper and more self-satisfying option is to make some of these products yourself. I've yet to venture into the realm of homemade cleaning products. The vinegar concoction I remember my mom making just doesn't appeal to me. Maybe it's the smell (which could be masked with essential oils), or maybe it's marketing advertisers incredible ability to condition me to believe that vinegar will never do as good a job as all purpose Windex. Probably the latter.

I have, however, started toying with all natural beauty products. Cinnamon as bronzer, anyone? And tonight I made whipped coconut oil body butter. I've tried using coconut oil as a moisturizer before, but it tends to leave me as greasy as a Waffle House griddle. Often I've had to wipe myself down with a towel before getting dressed. But today I happened upon this recipie for whipped coconut oil body butter on somebody's Pinterest board.

Never have I been so excited to make something, and the best part is it only took one ingredient and one step to make a jar full of fluffy whipped goodness. Are you ready for this?

Spoon a bunch of solid coconut oil into a Kitchen Aid mixer, attach the whisk, and beat on high for 6 to 7 minutes. That's it. Add a few drops of essential oils if you want the added benefit of aroma therapy. The body butter goes on light, rubs in easily, and doesn't leave me nearly as greasy. Added bonus- it's cheap! And 100% natural so there's nothing in it to screw with your hormones (which have been giving me a fit lately).

Frothy clouds of frosting for your skin.

So give it a try. Then give it as gifts for others to try (because who doesn't like getting something in a mason jar?).

I promise, for your sakes, I will not experiment with homemade deodorant!
Love to you all!

Spring, Glorious Spring.

Yesterday was glorious. The sky was hazy, but the sun still shone. The wind danced and flirted with the trees, and the blue jays and robins sang to each other from sunrise to sun set. Spring is by far my favorite season. As nature comes alive so does my soul. It shakes the doldrums from its shoulders and stretches its arms wide opening my heart to the new season of growth.

Spring's official start is still 10 days away, but here in Georgia, it has already arrived. To celebrate I woke early and baked morning glory muffins (a flour/added sugar free, paleo version of course). I found a peaceful rhythym chopping walnuts and grating carrots. My mind drifted back to the couple of months I spent on a ranch in Arizona, and the uh-maz-ing mornining glory muffins they served. I lost in thoughts of cacti   and a stubborn horse named Quincey until I decided to grate the side of my pinky finger off. The result was pretty grusome. I don't do well at the initial sight of blood so I had to cover it in paper towels and squeeze until the blood clotted and my adrenaline ran its course. Now, I will have another lovely scar to remind me why I usually avoid the kitchen. The muffins, by the way were delicious.

Later in the morning, my pup and I took advantage of the weather and explored the Chickamauga Battlefield. When I first moved up here, the battlefield was my favorite place to go. The expansive terrain is dotted with several cannons and monuments, tributes to all those who fought there in the Civil War. There are dozens upon dozens of walking trails at the Battlefield; enough that you could walk a different route every day and not repeat one for at least 6 months. Though it is frequented by numerous visitors every day, it is large enough that you are still enveloped in the solitary peace of nature no matter where you walk.

After lunch I flung open the doors and windows and settled in for a nap while the breeze cleansed the apartment. I never, ever take naps. If I do, I feel guilty for "wasting time", but yesterday, a nap felt to me like fluffy, white whipped icing covering the top of a sweet Easter cake, a perfect treat. The rest of the day was uneventful. Blake went to work, and I browsed through World Market and TJ Maxx. I wish I could decorate my home with all the furniture in World Market. Its all classic and rustic yet modern and beautiful all at the same time.

On my way home I was stalked by a young man in a Cadillac, who drove beside me for miles motioning for me to give him my number and mouthing that I was beautiful. I was creeped out but slightly flattered as I had nothing but mascara on. Well, I did get my hair done yesterday, and though it's a little too dark for my taste, it must be working for me.

If yesterday had a theme it would have been peace. Every event minute of the day was cloaked in a calmness and freshness that soothed my body and mind and allowed me to rest for the first time in ages. Even my constantly spinning mind quieted for the day. It happens every time Spring comes around, and I'm so greatful for it. I hope your weekend was equally lovely. Here's the recipe for the muffins:

Morning Glory Muffins from Oxygen Magazine- April 2013 issue

Ingredients:

• 1/2 cup coconut flour
• 1/4 tsp baking soda
• 1 tbsp pumpkin spice (I used all spice)
• 1 tsp cinnamon
• 6 eggs
• 1/2 cup coconut oil
• 2 tbsp honey (I did not use this)
• 1 tsp vanilla extract
• 1/4 cup pumkin puree (I used 1/2 cup)
• 1 apple, cored, peeled, and grated
• 1 1/2 cups carrot, peeled and grated
• 1/2 cup chopped walknuts
• 1/2 cup pitted dates, chopped (or raisins if you prefer)
• 1/4 cup sunflower seeds
• dash of salt

Directions:

• Preheat over to 350 degrees. Line or coat a muffins tin with cooking spray.
• Mix the first 4 ingredients and the salt in a large bowl. Stir in apples, carrots, walnuts, dates/raisins, and sunflower seeds until well combined.
• Beat wet ingredients together in a separate bowl. Add flour mixture to wet ingredients and mix until combined.
• Fill muffin cups and bake 25 minutes or until a toothpick inserted in center comes out clean.

Notes: I didn't have honey, dates, or raisins so I used an extra apple. They weren't very sweet, but I still thought they were delicious. Next time I'll try it with just dates or raisins and see if that makes it sweet enough before adding in the honey. I added extra pumpkin puree to make sure they'd be moist. You could also add applesauce (or only use applesauce if you're not a fan of pumpkin).
P.S. Make sure you have some ghee on hand to enjoy with these. I am out and that made my muffins sad.

Love to you all!

Pancakes!

Last night's sleep was heavy with nightmares. Twice I woke up wailing. My husband is now so accustomed to these occurances that he just tells me to calm down and rolls over. I don't blame him, but this dream kept me awake and on edge for most of the rest of the night. It's time to shake it off; plus it's Friday, and we haven't danced in ahwile. Can't remember if we've done this one before, but whatever. If you're gonna shake, it needs to be to Hey Ya.
And if you're just going to skip out on the party remember this:

 

Ok, now shake.

 

 

Now that you're feeling good and you're energes are revved, what do you say to some pancakes? Some mornings just require pancakes. Soft, fluffy stacks of steaming flapjacks, slightly soggy in the center from melted butter...those kind of pancakes. It's a bit hard to replicate the perfect buttermilk pancake with "healthier" ingredients. I've seen one recipe floating around all the Pinterest "Eat Heathy" boards that only requires one ripe banana and  2 eggs mashed and cooked in a skillet. My sister raves over this, but I'm not fond of banana flavored anything, unless of course it's homemade banana pudding. I prefer this from Megan at Detoxinista.com. When baked, they leave the oven steaming and fluffy. I haven't tried them with syrup yet, but a bit of honey tastes good. Or sandwich coconut butter between two and let it get a little melty. That's the best way to enjoy these. Happy Friday, loves!

 



Almond Butter Pancakes (Grain-Free)

Author: Detoxinista.com

Prep time: 5 mins

Cook time: 10 mins

Total time: 15 mins

Serves: 2

 

Ingredients

• ½ cup almond butter
• ½ cup unsweetened applesauce
• 2 whole eggs
• ½ teaspoon baking soda
• ½ teaspoon cinnamon
• ½ teaspoon vanilla extract

Instructions

1. Preheat your oven to 350F and line a baking sheet with parchment paper, if you plan on baking these. (My preferred method.)
2. In a medium bowl, combine all of the ingredients and mix until a smooth, uniform batter is created.
3. Scoop the batter using a ¼ cup onto the lined baking sheet, to form 7-8 pancakes. You will probably need two lined baking sheets, if you’d like to bake these all at once.
4. Bake for 10-12 minutes, until the pancakes are fluffy and golden. This is my preferred method, since you don’t need to use any extra oil for frying, and you can cook all the pancakes at once without even flipping them!
5. Alternatively, you can pan-fry these pancakes in a greased skillet over medium-high heat. Flip when the edges are firm and golden, about 4-5 minutes on each side.
6. Serve piping hot, with fresh fruit and/or pure maple syrup, if you like.

Notes

Parchment paper is key for baking these. Even a Silpat doesn’t yield the same results as using parchment paper.

CK's note: Use 1/2c pumpkin puree instead of applesauce and add a tbsp or two of honey to the mix for a savory fall flavor.

 



Minesweeper Meditation

I woke up this morning to my usual routine, but intsead of immediately jumping on the computer and blogging, I took a comfortable seat on the floor and meditated using a chakra meditation script. I feel calm and empowered, ready for the day, and the crown of my head is abuzz--my energies and emotions are ready to go!

Meditation has a host of benefits. It helps reduce anxiety attacks as it lowers the levels of blood lactate; builds self confidence; increases serotonin which influences moods and behaviour (low levels of serotonin are associated with depression, headaches and insomnia); enhances energy, strength and vigour; helps keep blood pressure normal; reduces stress and tension; creates a state of deep relaxation and general feeling of wellbeing; increases concentration and strengthens the mind; helps reduce heart disease and helps with weight loss. That's just a small sampling of what meditation can do, but one of this things I love most about meditation are the revelations, big or small, that arise. For example, a line from this morning's script said "for today release attitudes and patterns that no longer serve you", and of course I thought of my emotional eating (because that's always my go to thought my prompts like these). Then somehow, affirming that I will release the emotional eating patterns for today led me to the realization that I have a fear of my creativity and a fear of my spirituality. Big leap, no?

You see boredom is a big binge trigger for me. There are several things that I could occupy my time with. Things that I want to do, like writing stories, reading, yoga, painting, decorating the apartment, etc. All of these things would be a great alternative to bingeing, but I stand there staring into the cabinets knowing nothing in my physical or emotional being wants to eat, and I eat anyway because I am too scared of what will arise out of the creativity or spirituality that those activities will foster. Am I afraid my stories will reveal all of my dark and twisty insides? Am I worried I'll be criticized for my belief in a connection to the divine through yoga and meditation? Will it turn some people on their heads that I might actually think there is a little bit of the divine in all of us (and therefore that connects us)? Probably all that and more. But I tell ya, those questions reek of seeking the approval of others don't they? Maybe that's what I'm truly afraid of-- that others won't approve of me, my ideas, beliefs, creations; therefore I stifle the creative and spiritual yearnings with binges.

Wow, see, that's the power of meditation. It removes the blockage from the pathway and lights up the road ahead. Kind of like Minesweeper when you click just the right box and it uncovers a slew of others. I always got so excited when I clicked that box (I still do!).

On the one hand it made the job easier by taking away a lot of the unnecessary boxes. On the other hand it forced you to start paying attention to the details in order to decide which box surround by 2's and 3's would be the one in the clear. Meditation helps you click the right box and clear out the extras.

Well, I'm off. Love to you all, and I leave you with this:

“To be creative means to be in love with life. You can be creative only if you love life enough that you want to enhance its beauty, you want to bring a little more music to it, a little more poetry to it, a little more dance to it.” ~Osho

I ramble. A lot.

Gross alert! I am so tired of waking every morning soaked in sweat. It doesn't matter what I wear or don't wear or if only half of my body is under the covers. I wake up shivering, body drenched, hair damp, and sheets soaked. Were I still following the Whole30, I would chalk it up to my body being in fat burning mode, but I'm not (I know I said I was doing a second round a few weeks back, but I...I...well, I just haven't). I thought maybe the comforter was too heavy so I've tried light blankets instead to no avail. When the simple answers don't seem to fit I start to worry that the cause is bigger things, like my hormones being out of whack. Does that normally happen to 28 year olds?
All I know is 6 nights out of 7 I looked like I've sleepwalked into the back yard and played with the hose, and it's getting pretty old.

On to other things that you probably don't care about.

For the past couple of weeks I've been experimenting with my daily schedule, trying to fit in all the things I want and need to do to keep my balanced. One thing that's been missing from my life is exercise. I do plenty of teaching, but I don't do anything for me. My weeknights are just about to busy to add anything else to the mix so I thought, "Hey, I'll workout in the morning at 5:00!" Well, friends, my body hates working out at 5:00a.m. Ok, not my body, but I definitely do. Taking 15 minutes to go from sleepy head to gym rat with pulse pumping and muscles popping (or so they try) just doesn't work for me. My body and mind are a bit to stiff that early in the morning to give a workout all the effort it deserves. I prefer to hit the snooze once, then fix my pup her breakfast as I rub the dreams from my eyes, then pour a tall glass of water and settle in to the computer chair to write. It gives my body and mind time to stretch and yawn and slowly perk themselves up.

Still, I'm faced with the problem of when to exercise on my own. I'm thinking I might have to be a weekend warrior, completing the most intense workouts Friday nights, Saturdays, and Sundays. Mondays and Wednesdays I'll try to fit in a short 15 minute burst of something. That's not too much to commit to. I did go and buy a set of 10 pound weights to keep at my desk at work and use throughout the day. Yeah, I think I've lifted them once in two weeks.Best of intentions, right?

Anyway, I have been on this baby fever kick ever since my niece Millee was born in December. There are lots of new born baby pics floating around Facebook right now, but it's a fact that there are none cuter than this

Please ignore my brother's hairy legs

I couldn't figure out how to rotate the photo, but tilt your head to the side. That chick's loaded with sass already!

So someone posted about an old wives' tale ring test that would tell you how many babies you'll have and whether each will be a boy or a girl. I love superstitious stuff like that so I slipped my wedding ring onto a necklace and followed the steps. I held it in my left hand for a second, then grabbed it with my right hand and let it dangle. I made a circle with my left thumb and pointer finger and threaded the neckalce back forth through the circle three times. Then I held it as still as possible over my left palm. The says that the ring will either move straight back and forth (for a boy) or around in a circle (for a girl), and it will stop in between children. When my ring began to move over my palm for a FOURTH time, I threw it on the bed and ran out of the room convinced I was toying with voodoo and would be struck down. So there you go folks. I'm predicted to have four kids (maybe more since I cut the test short). A boy, then girl, then another boy, and finally another girl. I might get to name a son Maitland Burkhalter after all! (Burke for short.)

 

But watch out! Knowing the daddy, they will all be hellions ;)

 

Love to you all!

Crossing the Ocean

"To Christan, May your writing get you across the ocean. Yann Martel"
My aunt and I wanted the personal inscription to say, "To Christan, the future greatest writer ever. Love, Yann" He totally thought it was meant for a young namesake so it was a bit mortifying when I told him it was for me. Nonetheless, I like this one. Time to write and be transported.

Despite freezing temps and snow flurries that would make even Southern grownups shriek with delight, my Aunt Debbie and I trekked up to Nashville to see Yann Martel at the Nashville Public Library this past Saturday. Most of our day was spent driving or waiting in line to get a ticket, but it was completely worth it.

The auditorium was smaller than we expected, but it made for a much more intimate setting. We sat only three rows back from the stage. After being introduced by the Mayor, Martel took the podium in an understated, but scholarly blue sweater and glasses; his hair cropped short to his head. It wasn’t the picture I had of him in my mind. The photo in the back of Life of Pi, depicts a man with free and wild hair, a slight furrow in his brow, and inquisitive eyes that weren’t covered by lenses. Instead he looked decidedly normal, like your average English teacher at the local high school. I instantly loved him more.

He talked of how Life of Pi came about, how initially it was to be an elephant in the life boat and then a rhinoceros. He explained that when writing he was most concerned with the mechanics of the story, not the symbolism. He is often asked what Richard Parker, the tiger, was intended to symbolize, and his response is that he didn’t have a specific symbolic meaning in mind—that is mostly left up to the reader’s interpretation—he just focused on constructing the story and making sure the foundation was firm. He talked of his writing process, how he researched everything from religion to zoology to currents of the Pacific Ocean for two years, producing over 300 pages of notes. Then he cut up the notes and placed them into themed envelopes. Then he took one envelope at a time and began to form his story. Brilliant—I’m always eager to learn the secret writing processes of great authors.

He spoke of religion, how he used to hate it and preferred to be a rationalist, until one day he realized that the logical, everything can be explained by science life style was stifling his happiness and his creativity. He was tired of living life on a straight path so he flew to India in search of inspiration and a place to flex his author’s craft. There the seed was planted for the book that has quickly become a modern day classic.

Though his main purpose was to discuss the book, he words stirred my soul and sparked long and honest conversations about religion and even politics between Aunt Debbie and me. That's the power of an author's words, whether spoken or written. They inspire me, move me, and motivate me to write more and create more and touch people through words.

I did take copious notes during the talk, but unfortuantely I don't have them in front of me. Otherwise I'd shower you with much more wisdom and insight from Mr. Martel. Just know that it was a wonderful trip, and if you ever get the chance to hear Mr. Martel speak, then jump at it. Take your own aunt and spend the day making memories and growing closer. And if you happen to be in Nashville, eat the tomato bisque at the Province Cafe in side the library. It was divine.



The crustless quiche was gorgeous but definitely needed some seasoning.



Disruption and the Quell

Last night I experienced my first encounter with a disruptive student while teaching yoga. As the class settled into easy pose with eyes closed and turned their awareness inward and toward their breath, the door swung open and a carbon copy of John Coffee from The Green Mile poked his head in.

“This yoga?” he boomed.

“Yes, sir.”

“Can I do it?”

“Of course you may.”

He thanked me and disappeared back into the weight room. I turned back to the class, and fourteen pairs of wide eyes and furrowed brows met my gaze. I don’t know why the sudden presence of the man flustered us so, but I knew I’d just lost the opportunity to help the room center. So I made a joke about everyone now being wide awake and swung everyone around into child’s pose. A few minutes later the man returned and took a place in the back of the room. Bless his heart, he was dedicated and pushed himself through every sequence, and the whole room knew it. His grunts and huffs were consistent enough to provide a play list for the class, and he’d accent his breathy melody with a “shit” or “damn” whenever his arms tired from holding Warrior Two for an extra few breaths.

I didn’t bother me too much, and at times I found it humorous, but then again I wasn’t practicing and trying to find my center. Had I been a student, I’d have been just as irritated as the rest of my budding yogis looked. It was probably a golden opportunity to wax poetic about how there is no judgment in yoga and what is it about your own ego that makes you find fault or become irritated with others, but I’m not slick enough to pull that off without being totally obvious. There was an elephant in the room, and I would have been pointing right at it.

So I did the only other thing I could think of. I had them hold poses for several long breaths and cued them to cultivate stillness and quiet. And you know what? For a few brief moments it worked, and the energy of the stillness of fourteen unique bodies astonished me. Just from my simple words and the keen ears and dedication of the students we created overwhelming power cloaked in stillness and quiet. When it came time for Savasana, the final resting pose, the man continued his concert, squirming and flinging droplets of sweat onto neighboring bodies. I went over and firmly pressed his massive shoulders and anchored them into the mat. Within a matter of seconds his breath slowed and deepened, his muscles relaxed, and his clenched jaw released. His rhino grunts transformed to a kitten purr. Again I was astonished. I have magic hands! Ok, ok. I am not that self-centered! But I was amazed at the power a simple touch possessed.

This is what yoga continuously teaches me: that the simplest of things—breath, touch, plain words—have the ability to radically transform a person, from the way they hold their bodies, to the thoughts they think, to the emotions they feel. These things harness a greater energy than I’ve ever before experienced.

It’s always the little things in life, isn’t it?   

Namaste, loves.