Begin Making Tiny Movements

(as originally posted 3/4/11)

At the end of each yoga class, our instructor settles us into “savasana” (alternately spelled shavasana), a pose in which we lie flat on our backs, perfectly still, for a few minutes of meditative silence. With nothing but a fan whirring overhead or (if we’re lucky) birds chirping outside, it’s the quietest moment of my day. It’s a period of complete rest, no matter how short-lived. When it’s time to end savasana, the instructor asks us to “begin making tiny movements with our fingers and toes” before we raise ourselves to a seated position and end the class with a single “om”.

That phrase “begin making tiny movements” has stuck with me for several weeks now. It seems to be a choicefully selected phrase, notable for its specificity. Not big movements. Not “okay, sit up now.” But “Begin making tiny movements…” For a room full of women who’ve just been completely at rest, tiny movements are about all we want to muster.

Then, this week, I read this little nugget on the Peace & Projects blog written by  Melissa Gorzelanczyk, and I thought “Aha!”

I’ll include it here so you can read it for yourself.

“Focus on tiny movements. That’s all it takes to change your life. If you want to quit smoking, you can stop putting a cigarette in your mouth and lighting the end. Once you master the way you move, you can do anything. You can decide to write instead of go out to lunch. You can put away the beer and go to bed early. You can feel your feet on the ground for a run. Movements, no matter how small, shape your entire life. How you go through the motions is up to you.”

So true. Change is simply a series of tiny movements strung together. It’s making “the next right choice” and every moment is a new chance to get it right.  I’ve blogged before about momentum and how it can be a helpful force if you are on the right track. But if you find yourself on the wrong track, one that doesn’t serve your goals, then perhaps the best thing you can do is to still yourself.  Completely.  Stop everything.  Find your own Savasana. And when you’re ready, begin making tiny movements… strung together, they’ll change your life.

Gluten Free Peanut Butter Dark Chocolate Blondies

Okay, my gluten free friends, it’s your lucky day! These peanut butter chocolate chip blondies are delicious AND gluten free! The secret is that they omit flour altogether…so you get an incredibly rich little bite that everyone will love without gluten.

Now if you’re not living gluten free and you’re wondering what all the fuss is about, here’s the scoop. Gluten is a substance found in cereal grains (especially wheat) that gives baked goods their elasticity. It’s what gives French bread that amazing texture we love. There’s nothing inherently bad or dangerous about gluten, unless you’re someone who has an immune-mediated wheat allergy or celiac disease  – in which case the consumption of gluten can trigger harmful reactions. For the rest of us, it’s take it or leave it when it comes to gluten. But for the people with these conditions (diagnoses of which are on the rise), it’s a substance to be avoided. Gluten free goods are popping up everywhere you look, but many of them are poor substitutes for their gluten-containing cousins.

Not these.

If you’re hosting a gluten free guest and don’t know what to serve for dessert or a little treat, these will do the trick. I also think they’d make a great playdate treat as long as you’re not also hosting a child with nut allergies. Peanut Butter, Honey and Chocolate – I mean how can you go wrong?

My only caveat is that these little babies are super-rich so I like to cut them into bite sized pieces to encourage a bit of discretion when it comes to portion size.

Gluten Free Peanut Butter Dark Chocolate Blondies

makes 9-12 blondies

Ingredients:

1 cup natural creamy peanut butter

1/3 cup honey

1 egg

1/4 teaspoon salt (if using unsalted peanut butter)

1/2 teaspoon baking soda

1/2 cup dark chocolate chips

Directions:

1. Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Spray an 8-inch square pan with cooking spray.

2. In a medium bowl, mix peanut butter, honey, egg, salt and baking soda until well combined. Fold in chocolate chips.

3. Pour the batter into your pan and spread out evenly. Smooth the top with a spatula.

4. Bake for 20-25 minutes, or until the top is light golden brown.

5. Allow to cool and cut into squares.

Shoebox Letters – Daughters to Dads

When’s the last time you wrote a letter? Not an email or a text, but an honest to goodness old fashioned letter?

My friend, Clay Brizendine, recently compiled a collection of letters from daughters to their dads for publication. He asked me to be a contributor and I happily obliged.

In a moment of perfect synchronicity, his request came just before my dad’s 70th birthday. I accepted the nudge to thank my dad for the role he’s played in my life so far. Here’s how my letter began:

Dear Dad,

Your 70th birthday has given me a good reason to reflect on our relationship at this stage of my life, and on what your role as my dad means to me.

I’ve thought back over your unfailing presence in my life – the days and weeks and years through which you’ve fathered like a steady heartbeat – dependable, rhythmic, never missing a beat. I’ve recounted the million hours of playtime, the thousands of tuck-ins and kisses goodnight, the countless chauffeured car trips. I’ve remembered the mended broken things and books read aloud and the meals shared. I’ve relived the moments for which you were there – no matter the sacrifice of work, leisure, or sleep. I’ve thought about the emails sent from your office and the phone calls made from the car, the advice dispensed in person. I’ve recalled the hours of grandparenting and home improvements and family dinners that have filled our recent years…

 

Writing was easy for me because I have a great dad and a lifetime of happy memories on which to reflect.

Not so for all of Clay’s contributors to Shoebox Letters – Daughters to Dads. Unlike mine, some of the letters unmask deep hurts and brokenness. Not all father-daughter relationships are alike but in the end each one reflected some aspect of deep and abiding love from child to parent, daughter to dad. In fact, Clay learned so much about the textured relationship between dads and daughters (he has two of his own!) that he was able to extract some key themes around which to organize the book.

I think even more importantly than what he learned about dads and daughters, Clay confirmed his hunch that there is magic in the written word – magic we’re losing in the technological shorthand of today that can be reclaimed by putting pen to paper and sealing an envelope.

At the end of the book, Clay encourages everyone to write a letter of their own – I’d urge you to do the same.

Whose day could you make by writing to them from your heart? Dig out that stationery and let the magic unfurl.