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July 10th, 2009
06:56 am - guru
He was looming like a South Austin guru behind the counter when I walked in the door. Over 6 feet tall with a pronounced hump on his back, slowly stirring his coffee, I had often threatened to adopt this reformed 70-something punk-addict as my grandfather. He had a heart big as Texas, and was known for carrying the message of recovery to men suffering in prison.
Mr. X looked up casually from his decaf, his usual meditative air about him, heavily decked-out in jewelry of his own design: twisted serpet bracelets, carnelion rings and a chunky coral necklace. Bald, today he wore a visor hat with a plush rug of fake spikey blonde hair, which made him look even taller and more bizarre than usual.
"I saw you storming up the hill from your car," he remarked with an edge to his voice. "Pounding the hill like you owned the goddamed world."
I laughed, self-conscious, and shrugged apologetically.
He smiled, pleased, his mind a mirror of reflection. Then a twinkle flashed in his eye:
"Good for you, girl!"
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June 26th, 2009
May 20th, 2009
06:56 am - lucky little life
lucky little lives:
squirrel, dove, ant
moving through space
free of secrecy;
maybe occasionally fearful
maybe occasionally hide
but never feeling
bound by politic
to restrain inner
God-graced nature
lucky little life
neurotic brother squirrel
rustling in bushes
insanity tail unfurled
lucky little life
present moment dove
ascending wingward up
coos serenity's song
lucky little life
worker-hearted ant
life and love
united in activity
ah, just a
passing human fancy
how steep the
price of liberation
I would pay --
this prayer to
be made brave,
to walk among
you
little Me
-n. pearsall, 2009
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May 11th, 2009
03:01 pm - the rainbow connection
And now a word from Kermit the Frog....
Why are there so many songs about rainbows
and what's on the other side?
Rainbows are visions, but only illusions,
and rainbows have nothing to hide.
So we've been told and some choose to believe it.
But I know they're wrong, wait and see.
Someday we'll find it, the rainbow connection.
The lovers, the dreamers and me.
Who said that every wish would be heard
and answered when wished on the morning star?
Somebody thought of that and someone believed it.
Look what it's done so far.
What's so amazing that keeps us star gazing
and what do we think we might see?
Someday we'll find it, the rainbow connection.
The lovers, the dreamers and me.
All of us under its spell -- we know that it's probably magic.
Have you been half asleep and have you heard voices?
I've heard them calling my name.
Is this the sweet sound that called the young sailors?
The voice might be one and the same.
I've heard it too many times to ignore it.
It's something that I'm supposed to be.
Someday we'll find it, the rainbow connection.
The lovers, the dreamers and me.
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April 23rd, 2009
07:08 am - junebug
this morning begins with tears and chocolate,
the former salty,
the latter dark, resinous and sultry. Infused with the essence of lavender,
the corner of the bar is cized away
with an ivory enameled teacup of a tooth.
inhale
exhale
new day
the world's problems and my own soul's studders
melt away on the landmass of my tongue amidst cocoa,
the bus stop sidewalk below dissolved dreamily
into languid lilac / reflects the serenity of the sky.
from the concrete's thick edge and jungle brush emerges
a simple golden junebug.
he lumbers an irregular gait across the pavement,
casually casting an eye of examination up to me, giantess
creating lakes in his path as I sniffle and stuff my face with chocolate.
pausing for a moment, he takes a deep sigh, hoists the microscopic
monicle from his eye, assesses the cosmos, and winks at me:
"This moment is perfect. You are exactly where you need to be!"
then with a deep bow and a tiny chortle, pushes his way
through the dense jungle of grass, blades tickling his underbelly.
i board my bus with a curtsy, journey on amidst a storm now stilled.
little junebug, so attuned to the wiles of time --
and it being only april!
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April 16th, 2009
02:20 pm - Susan Boyle
"Okay, okay."
At my mother's bidding, I watched the Susan Boyle performance on youtube last night. If I hadn't watched it at her advice, I wouldn't have mattered, because my coworkers have been watching and discussing it all day.
I really don't see what the big deal is. Is it so hard to believe that a woman with bushy eyebrows dressed alla the Eisenhower era could have a beautiful voice? Honestly, what's so remarkable about something extraordinary dressed in humble packaging? I think it says a lot about our society -- and the deplorable manners of the show hosts, that this could be s\uch a revolutionary concept.
I'm glad she rocked the audience and the judges. Maybe people will think twice before judging a book by its cover next time.
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April 13th, 2009
April 11th, 2009
06:42 pm - Celiac / Gluten Intolerence - What they don't want you to know!
Today I spoke with a woman in Chicago who is a gluten-guru. While not a doctor, she is heavily connected to the medical & research communities on the topic of Celiac Disease & gluten intolerance.
I feel like I've struck gold.
Her name is Olive. She first became interested in Celiac and gluten intolerance when her daughter's test results were asymptomatic (just like mine). But they knew that couldn't be right because whenever the daughter ate wheat, she had a reaction. One of the symptoms was severe depression. Finally, one of the tests they'd sent away for from a special lab (a stool test) came back positive. It was then that Olive began researching the intricacies of Celiac and gluten intolerance (which are slightly different things but both the same intensity) on her own -- attending conferences and meeting with researchers. She connects the dots between what mainstream doctors and researchers are saying, and what the others are saying. (These "others", she explained, are widely-respected but have often had their labs shut down for political reasons, i.e. costing insurance companies too much money.)
Mainstream medicine holds the endoscopic procedure as the current "gold standard" in diagnosing Celiac. In an endoscopy, biopsies of the small intestine are taken to examine the villi, which line the wall of the intestine, to see if certain parts of gluten proteins have flattened the villi. (The villi are important because they absorb nutrients in food.) I knew all of this before talking to Olive.
What I didn't know until speaking with her was that it's a lot more complicated than that. After 2 hours of listening to her impassioned speech, here are the finer points:
- There are many more key antibodies than those being tested for.
- The reason villi get destroyed by antibodies is that the villi tissue resembles "bad" components of gluten. The body sees something remotely resembling the gluten and destroys its own healthy tissue; thus, it's an autoimmune disorder. HOWEVER, this is not true of just villi tissue (but villi tissue is the only tissue tested in diagnosing Celiac). Antibodies vary in type. They "tag" and destroy brain tissue, thyroid, heart, reproductive tissue, neurological tissue, etc. But can we easily biopsy brain or heart tissue? No; procedural ease is the only reason that the villi are the only tissue examined for diagnosis. Many other types may be affected and go unrecognized.
- The lining of the gut is compromised by stress, toxins, etc. The toxins we take in (aside from those our bodies naturally make) primarily come from pesticides. So it's critical to....
- ...eat organic and avoid processed foods! Pesticides break down the enzymes that digest milk and wheat. In other words, if you are disposed to this disease and are eating these pesticides, the wall of your gut is being slowly destroyed by antibodies and over time, any healthy tissue (i.e. brain, heart, thyroid, reproductive, neurological etc.) in your body with a protein structure resembling milk or wheat will get tagged as "bad" and your antibodies will destroy it because they think it's an invader.
- In addition to gluten, the following can also cause the body to attack its own, healthy tissue: dairy products, soy, corn, sesame, chocolate, yeast (inc. candida) and coffee. Quinoa, buckwheat and millet are suspect.
More to come.
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12:55 pm - The Challenge of Diagnosis
Yesterday was very upsetting for me. After a 10 year struggle with Chronic Fatigue Syndrome, I thought for sure I had the answer. I thought for sure I had Celiac Disease. But the biopsy results from my endoscopy came back normal -- that is to say, my small intestines are not damaged by eating gluten.
I posted a message to this effect to a community forum I belong to, and received an interesting response back from a fellow member. Her website claims that even people with normal bloodwork AND normal biopsy results may still be Celiac.
This part is particularly noteworthy.
Of course I realize it seems like I'm grasping at straws at this point. But here are the facts: my sister is Celiac, my mother has ulcerative colitis, my great-aunt had Crohn's Disease and other autoimmune diseases including rheumatoid arthritis and scleraderma. I am high-risk for fun stuff and the fact that I have felt sick for 10 years but just haven't gotten diagnosed yet...well, I'm sorry, but I don't think I'm a hypocondriac.
I'm tired of sounding like a broken record, of being dismissed by doctors, of feeling like I'm being blocked from my full potential by an invisible foe.
Come out and show your face, already.
So I'm going to try going gluten-free for a year or two and seeing if I feel any better.
In the meantime, I'm going back to the rheumatologist for a secondary screening. And yeah, that Serenity Prayer, it's a good one.
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March 30th, 2009
06:27 pm - satchel
He likes to hear that post-soap sound,
the SNAP of a clean cotton shirt, mid-curl
unfurled from the dryer, fresh to wear,
kaleidoscope dust motes that spin in the air...
my head inclined to journal as I write,
regard the stranger with my third eye only
as my blanket orbits dryer's metal valence shell
a giant electron; I circumvent a further distance still...
too, a woman in grey yoga pants with a vacant grin
floats, mid-lope across lint-laden linoleum.
Hollow chamber / now the game is done.
I pack my humble satchel, journey on.
N. Pearsall, 2009
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March 23rd, 2009
06:16 pm - bronco salsa blues
Green leafy affair,
you call yourself "kale"
in the Whole Foods salad bar
and ev'rywhere.
Your iron-rich ears
I'd nibble, delirious,
but alas, to a girl from West Texas
you're mysterious -
whenever I grab you,
saute or slight-steam you,
Disaster - oh tell me,
why make me so blue?
Limp, wilted, outdone,
sling you in the drain.
Slide back in the saddle -
posole again.
-N. Pearsall, 2009
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March 21st, 2009
12:01 pm - A Word from Sufi Philosopher Ibn Arabi
"My heart holds within it every form,
it contains a pasture for gazelles,
a monastery for Christian monks.
There is a temple for idol-worshipers,
a holy shrine for pilgrims;
There is the Table of the Torah,
and the Book of the Koran.
I follow the religion of love
and go whichever way His camel leads me.
This is the true faith;
This is the true religion."
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February 7th, 2009
10:52 am - A Word from Dr. Bronner
Flee from the crowd & dwell with truthfulness. Be satisfied with what you have, it may be small. To hoard brings hate, to climb brings dizziness. The crowd has envy and success blinds all. Be happy with what to your lot may fall. Work well yourself to counsel others clear. And full-truth, hard work, God’s Law, shall make you free! There is no fear!
Torment yourself not, all the crooked to redress, Nor put your trust in fortune’s turning ball. Great peace is found in little busyness. And war but kicks against an age-old wall! Strive not, you earthen pot to break that wall! Subdue yourself and others you shall hear! And full-truth, hard work, God’s Law, shall make you free! There is no fear!
What God does send, receive in glad-whole-someness! To strive for greater wealth foretells they fall. Here is no home, here is but wilderness. Forth pilgrim, forth! Up beast & leave they stall! Know your country, look up! Thank God for all! Hold to the higher way, your soul, that God within you! Be pioneer! And full-truth, hard work, God’s Law, shall make you free! There is no fear!
Therefore, poor beast, forsake thy wretchedness! No longer let this world be they stall. His mercy seek, who in his mightiness, made you of dust, but not to be a ball! Work well yourself and work for all who seek for larger life and deeper cheer! And full-truth, hard work, God’s Law, shall make you free! There is no fear!
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January 17th, 2009
04:57 pm - Excerpt from Mysticism: A Study and an Anthology by F.C. Happold
No one chooses to be a mystic of his own volition. He must undergo some sort of experience which is of sufficient intensity to lead to an expansion of normal consciousness and perception, so that there comes to him a new vision of reality which dominates his life and thought. He must experience some sort of 'conversion'.
The illumination may be gradual, almost imperceptible, or sudden and violent.
Mystical states have certain marked characteristics:
1) Quality of ineffability...these states defy expression in terms which are fully intelligible to one who has not known some analogous experience. It thus resembles a state of feeling rather than a state of intellect.
2) Nevertheless, mystical states are also states of knowledge. They result in insight into depths of truth unplumbed by the discursive intellect, insights which carry with them a tremendous sense of authority.
3) Mystical states can seldom be sustained for long. They thus have a quality of transiency. There is invariably a speedy return to normality. The following of a particular way of life can, however, increase their frequency. At that stage of the Mystic Way known as the Illuminative Life, they can be very frequent and, it would seem, controllable.
4) It is possible to prepare oneself for the reception of mystical experience.
5) A consciousness of the Oneness of everything.
6) Sense of timelessness.
7) Conviction that the familiar phenomenal ego is not the real I.
..........
"For now we see in a mirror, darkly; then then face to face: now I know in part; then shall I know even as also I am known. Now abideth faith, hope, love, these three; and the greatest of these is love." ~ I Corinthians 13
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January 8th, 2009
08:51 am - Exquisite Non-Dairy, Sugar Free Cafe Latte
Folks, I have just finished a cup of what may be the best coffee I have ever tasted. One of the hardest things for me to kick on the candida diet (aside from dairy and sugar in all its forms), is thick, creamy coffee.
If you're in the same boat I am, or are just curious as to how I could rave about non-dairy, sugar free (and decaf!) latte, read on.
Brew 1 cup Swiss-water processed decaf coffee (sprinkle cinnamon / nutmeg / cayenne pepper in the grounds before brewing) - set aside while still warm
In blender, add:
1 large raw organic, free-range egg (contrary to popular belief, raw eggs rarely cause salmonella)
3 T organic coconut oil
2 T unsalted, organic butter
Stevia to taste (a little goes a loooong way)
Your 1 cup brewed coffee
Blend it all up...and tell me how you like it!
Enjoy. :)
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December 19th, 2008
05:39 pm - Home for the Holidays
Welp, folks, about to fly out for 10 days of unparalleled....El Paso-ness. It'll be good to see family again, be back in the desert, and clear my head. Even if I am running a fever as I fly out.
If you've never been to Hell Peso, its culture and imagination are unparalleled. Please join me in viewing this article on how a group of El Pasoans spotted the Virgin Mary in a cooking pot. The slide show is not to be missed.
Happy Festivus, one and all...and to all a good night.
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December 15th, 2008
07:23 pm - I Am My Own Feast
| | I am my own feast. From the forged tureens
Of flesh and thought I feed like a great king.
I am my own famine. From windy voids
I accused the world of giving nothing.
I am my own light. By the suns in my
Eyes I see nature in sun and in shade.
I am my own dark. In black starless skies
I stalked the sun accusing the pale world.
I am my own love. In the womb of this
Soul I conceive my daughters and my sons.
I am my own hate. In the grip of this
Brain of my impotence I impeached man.
-Author Unknown |
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December 2nd, 2008
06:07 pm - two poems
I found two poems lying around at the elementary school I work at. Misspellings included to keep them authentic.
The first one I know was written by a 6-year old named Sarah:
you are 3
years old, also
you run on
yor shoe,
you smell
like a bee,
Now Freeze!
BBBZZZ (with drawing of bee next to it)
I suspect this one was written by someone a little older:
You can ride your
bike with no handalbars!
Your a fruity girl who likes
to chill.
Rock
On!
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November 30th, 2008
November 11th, 2008
06:05 pm - The Clear Noodle Incident
After a long day trying to save the world (AGAIN), I attempted to make myself dinner. Now, my pantry isn't literally empty (I have, after all, alphabetized my spices), and I have a lot to be thankful for, but my best option tonight was this old blue bag of mysterious clear bean noodles.
I suspect that I bought the bag of noodles from the Asian market sometime in the past few years. I've been eying it on and off for many moons now.
First, I boiled the water. Chopped some iceburg lettuce and threw it in a bowl. Made what turned out to be a damn tasty peanut-chile sauce to pour on top of it all when it was done.
Then I took two balls of dried noodles (they kind of looked like clear SOS pads) and plopped them into the boiling water. Since they were very thin, like angel hair pasta, I tested them after about a minute. Sure enough, they were already almost done! When they seemed finished, I strained them and thought, "What the hell, I'll run cold water over them so they don't wilt my lettuce."
But then I strained them. Immediately something in me took a left turn at Revulsion Boulevard as I saw the mass of suspiciously shiny, tapeworm-like noodles jiggled together in camaraderie under the fluorescent lights. I bit my bottom lip and murmured aloud to myself, "Oh get over it, Nancy. You can do this. They're noodles, they're noodles, they're noodles."
I poured them over the lettuce in the bowl and mixed the peanut sauce over them. I felt bad doing that to the peanut sauce, which seemed to grip onto the side of the mixing bowl with little chili-pepper flake googly eyes pleading, "NOT ON TAPEWORMS!"
But yes. It had to be.
I took one bite and my stomach did a flip like something...something dark and forbidden that I shan't describe. The noodles were not even completely done yet -- they had deceived me -- bastards -- but the worst part was that they all stuck together in clumps and THERE WAS NO END TO THEM! Literally, I couldn't not find an end to the bite...and figuratively, as the mass of clear worms seemed to grow deeper and deeper into the bowl.
I had reached my breaking point. My stomach was rising up out of my throat to say, "Hey, maybe you shouldn't eat any more of those." I pushed it down and force-fed it a piece of lettuce covered in very sad peanut sauce.
If I had a back yard, I would bury them there.
Let us never speak of this again.
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