I love this guy's blog. Simple. Profound. Blog-tastic.
http://zenhabits.net/act/
Saturday, 24 May 2014
blow-your-innards-out tasty thai nom nom
Taken, roughly, from a little cookery book on our kitchen shelf by someone who took it from Thailand. Ergo, no reference. Except Thailand.
mince (100-200g per person. I eat at least 200g)
garlic clove x4
birdseye chillies x6 (+/- 2-4)
fish sauce
white sugar
water or stock
handful of basil leaves
bit of fresh coriander
one egg per person
oil to cook
jasmine rice
nice bottle of wine
side serving of chillies in fish sauce:
birdseye chillies x10
garlic clove x1
bit of lemon/lime juice
bit of fresh coriander
1. Open the bottle of wine (white/rose/red, as you please), and pour yourself a large glass.
2. Prepare the chillies in fish sauce. Chop the chillies quite small. I de-seeded them, but if you really want to blow your socks off, leave the seeds. Crush up the clove of garlic. Chop the coriander leaves. Put it all in a bowl, add a squeeze of lemon or lime juice, and add plenty of fish sauce - enough so that all the ingredients are floating in it. About a third of a soup-bowl's worth.
3. Drink.
4. Put the rice on at this point. I use an absorption method, at a rice/water ratio of 1:1.5. Boil it for 7-8 mins with the lid on, then just leave it on the hob, heat off, until you're ready to eat it. Fluff it with a fork. If it feels a bit too squishy, remove the lid and it will dry nicely by the time you're ready to eat.
5. Drink.
6. Heat up a wok real good. Put in enough oil to fry an egg. Then fry your egg. I like to have the yoke runny still. Do each person's separately, and then keep them warm on a plate in the oven.
7. Drink.
8. Add a good glug of oil to the wok. Heat it up real nice, then reduce the temp a bit. Throw in the chillies and garlic, and be prepared for the blast of smell that makes your skin tingle, your eyes water, and makes you cough. (I should add, if you're cutting up 16 birdseye chillies, you should be wearing gloves. My fingers are still tingling 24 hours later. Probably too late by now. You'll know next time. Guys, be careful which hand you use when you go to the toilet.) Shoogle for a minute. Don't let the garlic go too dark.
9. Drink.
10. Throw in the mince. Stir fry it - don't let it lie. When just about cooked, add the stock or water (c. half a mug), sugar and a generous few shakes of fish sauce. Keep stir frying. Don't let it get dry, but don't let it stew in the liquid. You don't want it getting tough.
11. Drink.
12. Throw in the basil and coriander leaves. Fry for another 30 seconds.
13. Don't drink after that, you alcoholic.
14. Nice big bowl of rice, egg on one half, mince mixture on the other half. Douse it in chillies in fish sauce as required. Be prepared for Bangkok to fall right in your lap. It's all heat and spice and tangy and sweet aromatic all at once.
mince (100-200g per person. I eat at least 200g)
garlic clove x4
birdseye chillies x6 (+/- 2-4)
fish sauce
white sugar
water or stock
handful of basil leaves
bit of fresh coriander
one egg per person
oil to cook
jasmine rice
nice bottle of wine
side serving of chillies in fish sauce:
birdseye chillies x10
garlic clove x1
bit of lemon/lime juice
bit of fresh coriander
1. Open the bottle of wine (white/rose/red, as you please), and pour yourself a large glass.
2. Prepare the chillies in fish sauce. Chop the chillies quite small. I de-seeded them, but if you really want to blow your socks off, leave the seeds. Crush up the clove of garlic. Chop the coriander leaves. Put it all in a bowl, add a squeeze of lemon or lime juice, and add plenty of fish sauce - enough so that all the ingredients are floating in it. About a third of a soup-bowl's worth.
3. Drink.
4. Put the rice on at this point. I use an absorption method, at a rice/water ratio of 1:1.5. Boil it for 7-8 mins with the lid on, then just leave it on the hob, heat off, until you're ready to eat it. Fluff it with a fork. If it feels a bit too squishy, remove the lid and it will dry nicely by the time you're ready to eat.
5. Drink.
6. Heat up a wok real good. Put in enough oil to fry an egg. Then fry your egg. I like to have the yoke runny still. Do each person's separately, and then keep them warm on a plate in the oven.
7. Drink.
8. Add a good glug of oil to the wok. Heat it up real nice, then reduce the temp a bit. Throw in the chillies and garlic, and be prepared for the blast of smell that makes your skin tingle, your eyes water, and makes you cough. (I should add, if you're cutting up 16 birdseye chillies, you should be wearing gloves. My fingers are still tingling 24 hours later. Probably too late by now. You'll know next time. Guys, be careful which hand you use when you go to the toilet.) Shoogle for a minute. Don't let the garlic go too dark.
9. Drink.
10. Throw in the mince. Stir fry it - don't let it lie. When just about cooked, add the stock or water (c. half a mug), sugar and a generous few shakes of fish sauce. Keep stir frying. Don't let it get dry, but don't let it stew in the liquid. You don't want it getting tough.
11. Drink.
12. Throw in the basil and coriander leaves. Fry for another 30 seconds.
13. Don't drink after that, you alcoholic.
14. Nice big bowl of rice, egg on one half, mince mixture on the other half. Douse it in chillies in fish sauce as required. Be prepared for Bangkok to fall right in your lap. It's all heat and spice and tangy and sweet aromatic all at once.
the rewards of gratitude
Maintaining an attitude of thankfulness is not always easy. Being thankful is; it's looking at situations and people around ourselves and saying, 'I am thankful.' Just do it. This engenders gratitude. But maintaining that is difficult because of distractions. One of the commonest causes of my lack of thankfulness is worry. Worry has the ability to drain energy. It's a fruitless practice that I subconsciously use to maintain the illusion of being in control: if I worry enough, then I may be able to do something to stop the thing happening that I fear will. Worry is part of being human, but excessive worry may be the symptom of a more fundamental anxiety issue.
Probably one of my reasons - whether I realised it or not at the time, I can't remember - for wanting to be more thankful was to try and reduce the amount of worrying I did. Often I found that I was worrying about not feeling as happy as I would like to feel. This essentially was me being anxious that I was not doing the things that made me happy. Because I was not immediately able to change what I was doing to what I thought I would like to be doing, I concentrated on being grateful for the things that I did have and could do. Although the deliberate act of being thankful made me feel more content and fulfilled, it also made me more aware of the things that I could do which were pursuing my 'dream'. Once I was more aware of what I wanted to be doing, I was able to start doing it. For example, I realised that I was missing having a creative outlet, so I started writing. As I became thankful for writing, I did it more and enjoyed it more.
So that was 'my' part in pursuing happiness. But then divine guidance comes into play, too. I was offered a particular job for three months - something I probably would never have chosen myself - which I ended up really enjoying. As well as being an enjoyable job, it also was something that gelled with my longer term dreams (being able to spend time writing, moving somewhere specific that I had in mind). I felt unsure initially when I was offered the job opportunity, but decided that I would be thankful for some of the aspects of it that I imagined would suit me.
This job provided me with the insight into an area I really had little exposure to previously. I was bowled over with how it suited my personality and strengths, and how it enabled my other aspirations. It felt like my decision to be thankful for my current, unsatisfactory situation a few months earlier had opened doors I never expected.
Now, I have a job interview next week in this new area of medicine, situated somewhere we wanted to move to. But...with this comes the potential for new worries. Where will we live? How will our daughter settle? Will we be able to afford another big move? Will our relationships which we have established here, continue? And I am struck that, as I have further opportunity to 'follow my dreams', there is always more to worry about.
It's a great opportunity to learn, though. I see that as we pursue something which is important to us, even if it is not entirely clear how it will end up, there is risk involved. And it makes sense. No dream can be apprehended by simply staying static for forever. There are times for being static and rooted, and which require doggedness and persistence, and these are important skills and attitudes to learn too. I have watched myself going from being thankful, to being slightly amazed at the good fortune that has been allotted me, to starting to worry about what the new good fortune holds. I can smile at myself in this.
And I reiterate my desire to be thankful. A large part of my motivation is to be a father and a husband who is thankful for what he has, so that this can rub off on my family. It is wanting to be a grateful friend who can give back into relationships what is so freely given to me. It is the desire to become a caring practitioner who can use his skills to help others. I don't really believe that by me being unhappy or unfulfilled I can be the best person for others that I can be. This is a long way from my upbringing where I was surrounded by people who believed that the badge of suffering is some kind of mark of honour. I learned that personal happiness is always secondary to others' happiness; any other way is selfish. Sometimes I still feel like being unhappy or melancholy might show some kind of solidarity with the billions of people in the world who are less fortunate than I am.
Maybe I can encourage you to be thankful for where you are at. For the safe and wealthy country that you live in. For your friends and family. For a job that provides a salary. For food on your table. And maybe I can encourage you to figure out more what your dreams are, and to pursue those in an adventurous, loving and constructive way. By this, you can become the best blessing that you can be to the world around you.
Probably one of my reasons - whether I realised it or not at the time, I can't remember - for wanting to be more thankful was to try and reduce the amount of worrying I did. Often I found that I was worrying about not feeling as happy as I would like to feel. This essentially was me being anxious that I was not doing the things that made me happy. Because I was not immediately able to change what I was doing to what I thought I would like to be doing, I concentrated on being grateful for the things that I did have and could do. Although the deliberate act of being thankful made me feel more content and fulfilled, it also made me more aware of the things that I could do which were pursuing my 'dream'. Once I was more aware of what I wanted to be doing, I was able to start doing it. For example, I realised that I was missing having a creative outlet, so I started writing. As I became thankful for writing, I did it more and enjoyed it more.
So that was 'my' part in pursuing happiness. But then divine guidance comes into play, too. I was offered a particular job for three months - something I probably would never have chosen myself - which I ended up really enjoying. As well as being an enjoyable job, it also was something that gelled with my longer term dreams (being able to spend time writing, moving somewhere specific that I had in mind). I felt unsure initially when I was offered the job opportunity, but decided that I would be thankful for some of the aspects of it that I imagined would suit me.
This job provided me with the insight into an area I really had little exposure to previously. I was bowled over with how it suited my personality and strengths, and how it enabled my other aspirations. It felt like my decision to be thankful for my current, unsatisfactory situation a few months earlier had opened doors I never expected.
Now, I have a job interview next week in this new area of medicine, situated somewhere we wanted to move to. But...with this comes the potential for new worries. Where will we live? How will our daughter settle? Will we be able to afford another big move? Will our relationships which we have established here, continue? And I am struck that, as I have further opportunity to 'follow my dreams', there is always more to worry about.
It's a great opportunity to learn, though. I see that as we pursue something which is important to us, even if it is not entirely clear how it will end up, there is risk involved. And it makes sense. No dream can be apprehended by simply staying static for forever. There are times for being static and rooted, and which require doggedness and persistence, and these are important skills and attitudes to learn too. I have watched myself going from being thankful, to being slightly amazed at the good fortune that has been allotted me, to starting to worry about what the new good fortune holds. I can smile at myself in this.
And I reiterate my desire to be thankful. A large part of my motivation is to be a father and a husband who is thankful for what he has, so that this can rub off on my family. It is wanting to be a grateful friend who can give back into relationships what is so freely given to me. It is the desire to become a caring practitioner who can use his skills to help others. I don't really believe that by me being unhappy or unfulfilled I can be the best person for others that I can be. This is a long way from my upbringing where I was surrounded by people who believed that the badge of suffering is some kind of mark of honour. I learned that personal happiness is always secondary to others' happiness; any other way is selfish. Sometimes I still feel like being unhappy or melancholy might show some kind of solidarity with the billions of people in the world who are less fortunate than I am.
Maybe I can encourage you to be thankful for where you are at. For the safe and wealthy country that you live in. For your friends and family. For a job that provides a salary. For food on your table. And maybe I can encourage you to figure out more what your dreams are, and to pursue those in an adventurous, loving and constructive way. By this, you can become the best blessing that you can be to the world around you.
If you can solve the problem, what is the need of worrying?
If you cannot solve it, then what is the use of worrying?
Do not be anxious about anything. But in everything, by prayer and with thanks,
present your requests to God.
Sunday, 13 April 2014
Playschool moments
It starts towards the end of her weetbix and berries.
'Papa, Playschool, okay?'
Okay, say I, secretly hoping for this Sunday morning quietness together.
'Papa bring coffee.'
I place my cafetiere, which she has already ritualistically plunged, and cup on the coffee table. To her, I am now here to sit, quietly with her, for some time. Papa is not working this morning. She roots around in her small collection of DVDs, all of which she knows almost by heart, and then presses the 'open' button and waits for the little drawer to slide out smoothly. She inserts the DVD, less smoothly, and presses the appropriate button (where did she learn this?). She takes the remote control and jabs the largest button, and the screen flickers to life.
'There's a bear in there, and a chair as well.
There are people with games, and stories to tell.'
Here eyes grow wide as the balloons float across the screen, and we sing together.
It is the little moments with her that keep me rooted in the present. Sitting on the sofa, a small, warm body still in her onesie, curling into me. Wriggling feet which push into my thigh. Wild, curly hair smells sweet from yesterday's shower after the swimming pool. Teddy nestles between us, sometimes an arm or an ear held by an ever-less podgy hand. Sweet songs and bright colours parade across the screen, and for an hour, I am hooked in this peaceful, simple world. And it is to be relished. As I see her joy and wonderment at an animation of This Little Pig, she sees how to make finger prints, or an orchestra is produced from kitchen utensils, I too am swept up in simplicity. She spontaneously breaks into a dance, as she repeats the words to a nursery rhyme she doesn't yet understand.
Beauty in this simplicity. Children draw us back to that. This is one of their gifts to us.
'Papa, Playschool, okay?'
Okay, say I, secretly hoping for this Sunday morning quietness together.
'Papa bring coffee.'
I place my cafetiere, which she has already ritualistically plunged, and cup on the coffee table. To her, I am now here to sit, quietly with her, for some time. Papa is not working this morning. She roots around in her small collection of DVDs, all of which she knows almost by heart, and then presses the 'open' button and waits for the little drawer to slide out smoothly. She inserts the DVD, less smoothly, and presses the appropriate button (where did she learn this?). She takes the remote control and jabs the largest button, and the screen flickers to life.
'There's a bear in there, and a chair as well.
There are people with games, and stories to tell.'
Here eyes grow wide as the balloons float across the screen, and we sing together.
It is the little moments with her that keep me rooted in the present. Sitting on the sofa, a small, warm body still in her onesie, curling into me. Wriggling feet which push into my thigh. Wild, curly hair smells sweet from yesterday's shower after the swimming pool. Teddy nestles between us, sometimes an arm or an ear held by an ever-less podgy hand. Sweet songs and bright colours parade across the screen, and for an hour, I am hooked in this peaceful, simple world. And it is to be relished. As I see her joy and wonderment at an animation of This Little Pig, she sees how to make finger prints, or an orchestra is produced from kitchen utensils, I too am swept up in simplicity. She spontaneously breaks into a dance, as she repeats the words to a nursery rhyme she doesn't yet understand.
Beauty in this simplicity. Children draw us back to that. This is one of their gifts to us.
Wednesday, 19 February 2014
Saturday, 15 February 2014
identifying our passion
After a confronting late shift in a busy emergency department about a month ago, I came home in the early hours of the morning feeling unsure of myself. I felt dejected and empty, frustrated and annoyed, and was even starting to feel resentful. I started questioning my current day-to-day vocation, my suitability for it, the way I engage my emotions, the way I harness my creativity, my belief in pragmatism, the outliving of my faith, etc etc. (One a.m. is generally never a good time to analyse oneself in too much detail.) Questions bombarded me, such as: do I enjoy what I am doing, am I good at what I am doing, is what I am doing meaningful, and am I doing what I am supposed to be doing? I recognised these thoughts as recurrent patterns and traits in myself that raise their heads more prominently on some days than on others.
I started questioning the fundamentals of my personality, character and past decision-making, trying to summarise my life into a simplistic, unrelated chain of events. It went something like, 'what type of person leaves school three months into their final year, works in a market research company, sails around the world for two years, studies English literature four four years, then goes to medical school for five years, then gets tired of where he's living and working, then has a baby and moves 12,000 miles away, then realises he is not as passionate about the specialty he's working in as much as he thought he was, so considers applying for something else?'
At some point in the not-too-distant past I would have chosen to wallow in a negative interpretation of my personality that led to this seemingly wandering, meandering, haphazard life: fickle, unstable, lack of persistence, lack of discipline, escapist. I wouldn't have recognised and remembered the positive motivations I had for each of these life decisions. Essentially I was fearful that I had not identified my passion, and that this lack of identification was leaving me in a position where I was spending my time doing something which was taking more from me than it should. Now, I realise that this path has been a process of me discovering what my passion is. It's a combination of guidance, blessing, fortuitous meetings, some brave choices, and an openness to new experiences.
Thinking about what makes our daily existence 'meaningful' is subjective and changes over the course of our lives as we mature through experience; new relationships, challenges, losses, faith and victories all constantly redefine our priorities and understanding of ourselves. I am learning that being thankful can, in itself, sometimes bypass the question of meaningfulness. Living mindfully and thankfully can help us identify our passion; thankful people are happy people, and we are probably most happy when we are doing what we are made to do, which we become aware of as we give thanks for it.
Questions of worth and meaning and utility are often prompted by significant life events - birth, death, loss of a lover or a job, a significant journey. I reflected on my own journey (much like a contestant in X-Factor or Dancing with the Stars) over the past couple of years: birth of a child, emigration, new job, new culture, new friends, loss of the familiar, etc etc - and I felt slightly more justified in feeling that this period in my life should, rather healthily, throw up questions of significance. For these decisions were made to pursue what I believe is my passion; so am I still staying true to that?
I am in the process of making some big-ish decisions regarding my career and creative aspirations as I further realise and pursue what my passion(s) is (are). They are at once exciting, challenging, naturally scary, and riddled with potential joy, failure, disappointment and unexpected goodness. I am balancing maintaining these goals and moving towards them, and yet practicing being present where I currently am. I don't want to sacrifice the here-and-now for the sake of an ever-distant future.
So, to maintain the short- and long-term goal of living the simple life, my existential questions are calmed by thankfulness for the following:
a solitary walk on the beach
freshly baked bread
watching Play School with my daughter
a cold to make me thankful for my usual health
collecting shells
praying
writing
a new exercise regime
exploring new career opportunities
talking with my wife
sharing food with friends
forcing myself to be open and vulnerable
blogging
Wishing you joy and peace as you create the path to your passion.
I started questioning the fundamentals of my personality, character and past decision-making, trying to summarise my life into a simplistic, unrelated chain of events. It went something like, 'what type of person leaves school three months into their final year, works in a market research company, sails around the world for two years, studies English literature four four years, then goes to medical school for five years, then gets tired of where he's living and working, then has a baby and moves 12,000 miles away, then realises he is not as passionate about the specialty he's working in as much as he thought he was, so considers applying for something else?'
At some point in the not-too-distant past I would have chosen to wallow in a negative interpretation of my personality that led to this seemingly wandering, meandering, haphazard life: fickle, unstable, lack of persistence, lack of discipline, escapist. I wouldn't have recognised and remembered the positive motivations I had for each of these life decisions. Essentially I was fearful that I had not identified my passion, and that this lack of identification was leaving me in a position where I was spending my time doing something which was taking more from me than it should. Now, I realise that this path has been a process of me discovering what my passion is. It's a combination of guidance, blessing, fortuitous meetings, some brave choices, and an openness to new experiences.
Thinking about what makes our daily existence 'meaningful' is subjective and changes over the course of our lives as we mature through experience; new relationships, challenges, losses, faith and victories all constantly redefine our priorities and understanding of ourselves. I am learning that being thankful can, in itself, sometimes bypass the question of meaningfulness. Living mindfully and thankfully can help us identify our passion; thankful people are happy people, and we are probably most happy when we are doing what we are made to do, which we become aware of as we give thanks for it.
I am in the process of making some big-ish decisions regarding my career and creative aspirations as I further realise and pursue what my passion(s) is (are). They are at once exciting, challenging, naturally scary, and riddled with potential joy, failure, disappointment and unexpected goodness. I am balancing maintaining these goals and moving towards them, and yet practicing being present where I currently am. I don't want to sacrifice the here-and-now for the sake of an ever-distant future.
So, to maintain the short- and long-term goal of living the simple life, my existential questions are calmed by thankfulness for the following:
a solitary walk on the beach
freshly baked bread
watching Play School with my daughter
a cold to make me thankful for my usual health
collecting shells
praying
writing
a new exercise regime
exploring new career opportunities
talking with my wife
sharing food with friends
forcing myself to be open and vulnerable
blogging
Wishing you joy and peace as you create the path to your passion.
 |
| Empty vessel. You saw me before I was born. Every day of my life was recorded in your book. Every moment was laid out before a single day had passed. |
Tuesday, 7 January 2014
my year of gratitude
This entry has been difficult to write. It's taken me three days.
I am struggling with the question as to why we find it so hard to be thankful and express gratitude for the good in our lives, yet find it easy to identify and complain about what we do not like.
I wrote a philosophical tome (well, a blog-tome) on the subject; it was heavy and cyclical and swamp-like and too cerebral for any practical purpose. It wasn't really practicing the simple life. Deleting something can be very cathartic sometimes.
Maybe someone is trying to tell me something; if so, it is a good thing. For Christmas I received three presents which pointed me towards considering happiness and gratitude, and their inter-relation: a gratitude journal; 365 Gratefuls, by Hailey Bartholomew (http://365grateful.com/homepage.htm); and The Happiness Project, by Gretchen Rubin.
In 2014 I am going to write down three things every day that I am grateful for. I want my outlook to go from lazy, un-monitored complaining to disciplined, proactive identification of the beauty and goodness in my life each day. Here are some for today:
How different do you think your life would look if you practiced gratitude? Do you think 'practicing' detracts from the spontaneity of thankfulness?
I am struggling with the question as to why we find it so hard to be thankful and express gratitude for the good in our lives, yet find it easy to identify and complain about what we do not like.
I wrote a philosophical tome (well, a blog-tome) on the subject; it was heavy and cyclical and swamp-like and too cerebral for any practical purpose. It wasn't really practicing the simple life. Deleting something can be very cathartic sometimes.
Maybe someone is trying to tell me something; if so, it is a good thing. For Christmas I received three presents which pointed me towards considering happiness and gratitude, and their inter-relation: a gratitude journal; 365 Gratefuls, by Hailey Bartholomew (http://365grateful.com/homepage.htm); and The Happiness Project, by Gretchen Rubin.
In 2014 I am going to write down three things every day that I am grateful for. I want my outlook to go from lazy, un-monitored complaining to disciplined, proactive identification of the beauty and goodness in my life each day. Here are some for today:
How different do you think your life would look if you practiced gratitude? Do you think 'practicing' detracts from the spontaneity of thankfulness?
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