Vegan Gluten-free Ginger Cookies.

Even if you're bloated from eating too much pumpkin pie over Christmas and the thought of another leftover See's Candies makes you nauseous, you can still enjoy one of these cookies and go about the rest of your day without a sugar hangover or feeling guilty.

The first time I made these…well, I don't really want to talk about it.  So, after some tips from PK, the second time around I used Bob's Red Mill gluten-free all-purpose flour, as well as a silpat mat (instead of an air-bake pan), and had her magical ingredient of ground cardamom. (Don't ask how I attempted it with cardamom pods the first time around).

INGREDIENTS:
-2 cups all-purpose gluten-free flour
-3/4 c. coconut sugar
-1 tsp baking powder
-1 tsp baking soda
-1/4 tsp salt
-1 Tbsp ground ginger
-1 1/2 tsp ground cardamom
-1/2 c. extra virgin coconut oil, melted
-1/4 c. dark molasses
-1 tsp vanilla extract
-3 Tbsp almond milk
-Turbinado sugar (for sprinkling on top)

Directions:
1. In a large bowl, mix together the dry ingredients. Add the coconut oil, molasses, milk and vanilla extract and beat until just blended. Cover and refrigerate dough for 30 minutes.
2. Preheat the oven to 350 degrees F. Line a baking sheet with a silpat mat.
3. Roll dough into small balls and place 2 inches apart. Sprinkle lightly with turbinado sugar.
4. Bake for 11-14 minutes. Let cool for 2 minutes, then transfer to a wire rack to cool completely.

These are so delicious, and they also freeze well.  Enjoy!!

Merry and Bright.

While cresting the hill near Hiddenbrooke this morning, this Irish blessing came into my head. It seemed fitting as I pedaled behind my two girlfriends, into the sunshine and with the wind finally at our backs…

May the road rise up to meet you
May the wind be ever at your back
May the sun shine warm upon your face
and the rain fall softly on your field…

Christmas morning miles...

May your days be merry and bright
And may all your Christmases be white (or full of sunshine and green hills)...

Planting Seeds from Brokenness.

The initial inspiration...

Enjoy my latest piece on Elephant Journal here.

Beannacht.

Today has been a whirlwind of errands, including trips to the bank, installing Sirius in my new car, troubleshooting an alternator on my old car, phone calls for tech support in India for a printer (we bonded over my random Hindi phrases and love for kitchari), and organizing some paperwork that needed to get done. It seems like a lot of busyness in an already busy season, so tonight I just lit some candles, played some piano, and worked on some art projects. Clearing the mind, clearing the clutter. I feel better already. I'll leave you tonight with a gem of a poem which concluded last night's winter solstice poetry reading at Point Reyes Books. Such a cozy venue, sitting shoulder-to-shoulder with fellow poets, reading from a faint book light, as the rest of the store was illuminated by candlelight. Beannacht is Gaelic for "blessing"- may you be equally blessed by these words…

The cozy atmosphere from inside Point Reyes Books... 

On the day when
The weight deadens
On your shoulders
And you stumble,
May the clay dance
To balance you.

And when your eyes
Freeze behind
The grey window
And the ghost of loss
Gets into you,
May a flock of colours,
Indigo, red, green
And azure blue,
Come to awaken in you
A meadow of delight.

When the canvas frays
In the currach of thought
And a stain of ocean
Blackens beneath you,
May there come across the waters
A path of yellow moonlight
To bring you safely home.

May the nourishment of the earth be yours,
May the clarity of light be yours,
May the fluency of the ocean be yours,
May the protection of the ancestors be yours.

And so may a slow
Wind work these words
Of love around you,
An invisible cloak,
To mind your life.

-John O'Donohue

Fear Cannot Touch Her Here.

This week there were a lot of things to celebrate, including my first published piece!

Check it out here…

Solstice Eve.

I prefer winter and fall, when you can feel the bone structure of the landscape - the loneliness of it, the dead feeling of winter. Something waits beneath it, the whole story doesn't show.

-Andrew Wyeth

View from Del Valle this morning...

Brad descending into the fog...

I also prefer winter and fall riding, with full-length leg warmers, toe-covers, long fingered gloves and wind vests, when you can feel the rain on your face and taste the gritty mud in your teeth. Something about this reminds me that I am climbing, breathing, moving, descending - living. 

Tomorrow is winter solstice, the shortest, darkest day of the year. From there on out, it all brightens and lengthens...

The Other Side.

I once dated a guy who told me straight to my face, "You know, it's good that you're a little overweight- you'll be a more empathic counselor for overweight individuals because you know firsthand what it's like." Since then, I've shed that person from my life, as well as those unwanted pounds, but sometimes those words will still echo in my head. Underneath the initial sting, I believe his message was true- we can more effectively guide people to the other side once we've walked through it ourselves.

Take the first step.

Even as writers, it's our responsibility to get people to the other side- to the other side of fear and judgement, and step into a place of ease and openness. But this can only happen when we're willing to share our own stories and walk on that bridge, over the river of despair, step by step.  If we all stay silent, we all stay paralyzed and isolated.

So don't discount your dark experiences.  Talk about them, share them, use them as supporting wooden planks that create that avenue of connection, holding our weight and acting as a bridge to bring us back to ourselves and to each other.