I LOVE IT.
Tonight, I stopped by an actual supermarket chain to get some things. I've shopped at stores like this one for so long, yet it feels so wrong to be buying produce and common food items there when I could be getting a great deal on organic food at Monterey Market or getting delicious goodies at Trader Joe's on my walk home from work tomorrow night.
I forgot to post pictures of my apartment--here are a few looksies!
|Kitchen and my roommate Dominique|
I've been feeling so exhausted this week; maybe this crazy life transition into seminary life is finally catching up to me. Also, DEADLINES. Oh woman, (I originally put, Oh man, but decided why not make it feminine? haha) so much to do in these coming weeks. The biggest change between undergrad and seminary for me is my openly conscious effort to be healthy throughout this process. Not saying that it's successful, but I do make a point to prioritize sleep and time to be sane throughout the day. For instance, today I made Thai Pumpkin Soup, which tastes great but only comes in one size: CAULDRON. Stop at Apt. 11 for a cup if you are in Berkeley, please! I can't eat all of this by myself. (Jillien, I'll express ship you one if you really want it haha).
Cooking a soup isn't going to cut it on the wellness scale though. I want to be very conscious to explore my hobbies that are lying dusty on my bookshelf, such as collaging (which I haven't touched since I got to California), letter writing, journaling, and poetry reading. I need to hold myself to this goal.
I'm working on the poetry reading hobby at least! I just purchased a delicious (yes, it is delicious) book called Love Poems from God at Sagrada (this really great sacred arts store in Oakland!).
My new favorite is one written by Rabia, an Islamic saint from the 8th century that grew up in Mesopotamia. Rabia was sold into the sex trade at a young age; at the age of fifty, she was given her freedom (most likely bought by a rich patron of hers). She spent the rest of her life in meditation and prayer; that along with her touching poems makes her a create candidate to be an Islamic saint.
It Acts Like Love
It acts like love--music,
it reaches toward the face, touches it, and tries to let you know
His promise: that all will be okay.
It acts like love--music, and tells the feet, "You do not have to be so burdened."
My body is covered with wounds
this world made,
but I still longed to kiss Him, even when God said,
"Could you also kiss the hand that caused each scar,
for you will not find me until you do."
It does that--music--helps