Bike for Buddha

Biking on a windy morning along the Hudson River

It is official! I received my Five Boro Bike Tour number via email and the event is just weeks away on May 6. I have biked to work, on the weekends, and even on vacation in Miami for some scenic ocean riding.

I am dedicating the bike tour to a very special Buddhist nun and teacher, Venerable Lobsang Chunzom, who is now in a three-year Great Retreat for Peace in the Arizona desert. I hope it will raise awareness and funds for ongoing costs for basic necessities like food and medical supplies.

Check out my blog called Bike for Buddha where you read regular posts about my training and give to this special cause:

http://bikeforbuddha.wordpress.com/ 

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Writing split

Writer's split

My writing these days is mostly driven by newspaper deadlines. Writing about events, people and politics in a crunch hardwires your brain to a certain style of writing that dulls creativity or at least makes it difficult to think outside the box especially when articles follow very specific rules. Just the facts, ma’am.

I do find, however, that fiction pops into my brain from time to time. Like a whisper on a wind I hear a sentence that tells me about a character that exists somewhere out there.

Part of the challenge for me in switching from non-fiction to fiction has to do with information overload and mental clutter and what to make of all the random headlines and Facebook posts that live in my brain and just occupy space. What does all of that extra information add up to? It changes our brains and changes the way we think and has a profound effect on imagination and creativity that could be negative or positive depending on the person.

In his NY Times review of ‘Gods Without Men,’ by Hari Kunzru, Douglass Coupland writes about a new literary genre he calls Translit.

“there is something psychically sparse about the present era, and artists of all stripes are responding with fresh strategies,” said Coupland. He describes a new reality absent the predominance of any era — a flattening of time and space.

“I do wonder if being a writer in 2012 means needing to be able to write in multiple genres, as do Kunzru, David Mitchell et al., but not as some sort of postmodern party trick.”

Coupland said that genre shifting is fundamental. Kunzru achieves this shift because he writes about events in his novel that happen in different time periods but all interconnect.

I think the trick to switching the brain from nonfiction to fiction is to find the points of intersection. To break free from rules. To find the place in the middle where time and space coexist where nonfiction and fiction meet.

 

 

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Waste not brunch

French toast with berries and bananas at Beechwood Cafe in Jersey City

Brunch. The minute I think about brunch it conjures up very specific images for me like stacked pancakes, vegan sausage, hash browns, real maple syrup, and foamy lactose-free milk swirled a top of a steaming cup of hot coffee.

I break for brunch, that is, I break many food rules for brunch. My attempt to eat less sugar, and less starchy carbs goes out the window. I also devour brunch from start to finish. I finish everything on my plate past the feeling of fullness if I ever get to that point. I am typically a very slow eater — especially at dinner time. I am the one that ends up stared at by everyone else at the table as they wait for me to finish to politely order dessert. Or I just stop eating because I realize I am taking way too long. But not with brunch.

Last bite of french toast enjoyed one morning at Beechwood Cafe in Jersey City.

For someone who loves sugar, I guess brunch satisfies in every way. Honey in tea or sweet-tasting coffee, carb-heavy pancakes or french toast, (sometimes sprinkled with powdered sugar), maple syrup, organic and real when available, and fruit. And then there is the contrast of salty and crunchy if you eat hash browns. Brunch happens early enough in the day that you can burn off all those calories before sunset says my guilty conscience.

While my eating habits have changed somewhat since I was a child to adjust to a more vegetable-based diet, brunch has mostly remained consistent. I recall growing up it was more of a post-church breakfast at the local diner rather than what it is today but it always had pancakes or french toast, eggs and potatoes. The minor difference now is that I no longer eat the meaty sides but it still satisfies just the same.

 

 

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Biking weather in January

Biking on the Hudson River

Winds off the Hudson River were intense

After a week of rain I went biking at Liberty State Park on the Hudson River at the first sign of the sun. We’ve had a few unseasonably warm winter days in January. Today felt like a spring day between the endless sunshine and mid-afternoon heat. Tomorrow they predict it will reach 60 degrees. While I love the great biking weather I wonder if this is a sign of something at work beyond your average fluctuations and changes in weather. Based on findings from NASA, the earth’s average surface temperature is on the rise.

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Spokes on the Hudson River

Old docks by the Central Railroad Station

Days to bike across New Jersey abound this winter especially with unusually warm weather and sunshine-filled streets. I took the ’94 black Mongoose out yesterday for a quick spin through Liberty State Park. I snapped a few photos of the skyline as seen through my spokes and I found a number of wheels and old docks by the Central Railroad Station that created nice shapes above the water.

Old rusty wheel

Old rusty wheel on the Hudson River

 

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Mushroom mysteries unearthed

Two Mushrooms

Two views of a mushroom by The Field Museum Library

When I first launched this blog two years ago, I chose the name of the blog partly based on an image in a dream, that of a giant, brown mushroom. It appeared magically and left me with a feeling of awe, wonder, and curiosity. At the time in my life I felt the mushroom symbolized change and transformation.

I recently read about a new nonfiction book called Mushroom by Nicholas Money (recently added to my nightstand book list). In his book, Money unearths mysteries about mushrooms but said that there are certain aspects scientists struggle to understand. In describing the biomechanics of mushroom reproduction during an interview with NPR, Money said, “It really is an extraordinary thing biomechanically — there’s nothing else like this in the living world.”

He even has a video of mushrooms releasing their spores. But what fascinates me is that we inhale fungal spores with every breath we take according to Money. What happens after we inhale them? Guess I’ll have to read the book and find out.

In the meantime, I expect to get busy like those spores and produce some posts.

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When the sun breaks through

Woods in Kripalu

Hiking path in the Berkshires

This morning I watched the sun break through the clouds and rise above the skyline. I watched it rise and create Wednesday as I wrote my morning pages. The morning pages left much to be desired today but I tell myself that if I keep at it I will experience my own breakthrough. I expect it to be kind of like getting to a clearing in the woods during a hike or reaching the summit of a mountain. You trudge through the leaves under the cover of trees until you get to that open space, to that point of clarity, but you have to do the work to get there.

In the “Artist’s Way” Julia Cameron writes, “Do not reread these pages or allow anyone else to read them.” I think about writing the pages in the morning as the cat is meowing up a storm to be fed but I don’t think about them after I’ve written them. I allow the process to be what it is, which is a brain dump to get out all of the thoughts that create clutter in the mind.

I’m surprised I don’t have the urge to go back and reread them. If I ever do, the morning pages police will come after me and say, “Step away from the morning pages. Put your hands up. Put your hands behind your head. Kick the door shut!” Okay, that last part about kicking the door shut isn’t something the morning pages police would say but is from actual police lingo (per googling). The morning pages police may say something like, “Kick your laptop closed!” but that seems a bit too forceful and you may just break your laptop.

Do they really think you can kick your car door shut with your hands up at the same time? That probably takes some degree of coordination that some of the folks they pull over may or may not have.

KripaluSun

Sun breaks through the clouds at the Berkshires

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Create distance from the words

I stared at a paragraph of text the other night and the words on the screen literally blurred.  I squinted at the screen in an attempt to focus. I adjusted the brightness of my laptop but it didn’t help. The paragraph I was in the process of editing said very little to me. It was fluff. It said nothing with a lot of fancy pants words. The adjective effective wore the accessory highly and showed up to the party with the noun professional.

Arches, Utah

On a hike in Arches, Utah

I was forced to shut down the computer from a real tension headache — too much slouching, too many hours at the keyboard.

The forced break allowed me to create distance from the writing and come back to it the next day with a fresh perspective.

Too often we get caught up in the act of writing and we become attached to the words. I find that creating a bit of distance helps the creative process. Creating space and time away from the words brings about deeper meaning and brings you back to your intentions.

I have to force myself to take those breaks. I set timers just to remind myself to get up, stretch, and walk away.

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Is it too late to join the writing frenzy?

I’m up before the sunrise this morning. It was one of those mornings where you wake up at 2:30 a.m. and there isn’t anything you can do to get back to sleep. I attempted the hot bath, the glass of water, the move to the living room couch with the television volume on super low.

Puddy the early riser

Puddy likes to get up before the sunrise

Did you know there was an early, early, early morning show at 4:30 a.m.? Who is up watching tv at that time? The anchors talked a lot about Thanksgiving. “How was yours?” said the weatherman. “Yummy,” said the anchorwoman. When you wake up at 2:30 a.m. Thanksgiving feels like it took place a year ago.

At around 5 a.m. I figured it was a good time to write my morning pages in earnest. In “The Artist’s Way,” Julia Cameron recommends writing three pages of text every morning as soon as you wake up to release all of the thoughts roaming around in your head. “Morning pages map our own interior,” she writes.

I wrote 2,000 words this morning, which included some of what kept me wide awake. Is it too late to join the writing frenzy taking place for National Novel Writing Month? I realize that the goal is to write 50,000 words in one month but I figured since I docked 2,000 words this morning, why not give it a try? Just 48,000 words left to go and three days left in the month.

Puddy, my cat, doesn’t think it is a good idea. He prefers I keep my hands free for petting.

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Collecting leaves

Today was one of those gorgeous autumn days when the temperature is just right and the sun shines all day. I rode my bike to a small, corner park in downtown Jersey City where autumn leaves covered the sidewalk. I remember how often I raked leaves as a child only to destroy the pile by diving in.

Leaves in Jersey City

Jersey City Autumn Leaves

Instead of collecting leaves, I collect stories. I spent hours interviewing family members about what it was like to grow up in the Dominican Republic. I haven’t finished talking to everyone. I still have much to go. But all the video, audio and notes I’ve collected in the process have piled up like a giant stack of autumn leaves. Crunch, crunch, crunch.

Now it’s time to dive in.

 

 

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