Flow...The Book, People. Honestly!

I want to share some thoughts from Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi's book Flow: The Psychology of Optimal Experience; boy am I glad this is a blog not a podcast because no clue on pronunciation. MC (I really can't type his name repeatedly either) defines flow as "the state in which people are so involved in an activity that nothing else seems to matter" (4). I was introduced to this concept by a fabulous Texas potter, Billy Ray Mangum; he puts the fun in funky (see below).


At the time I was extremely ill with Lyme disease and the amazing parental units had encouraged me to try an art class. So, there I sat listening to Billy Ray give me hope. If working with clay could get me in the flow, perhaps I'd find a window where I could forget the debilitating pain and fatigue. Clay became more important to me than Vicodin. It was the only time I felt a glimmer of *me* still alive and well. During my Lyme time I lost a lot of my abilities that I had previously taken for granted -- reading, following conversations and movie plots, walking to the mail box--and many times it felt like I had also lost myself. Clay brought me back to me.

MC suggests that to really achieve flow you need to have mastered a creative pursuit, i.e. at least 10 years of practice. I was brand new to clay when I started but it transported me in many of the ways that MC describes as flow. Why? This is not a self-proclaimed prodigy confessional; far from it. Last weekend I stumbled across a TED.com podcast featuring MC which had me re-pondering this query. MC mentions in this talk that the nervous system processes a maximum of about 110 bits per second. When you are listening to a speaker, that takes about 60 bits. This explains why we can't hear more than 2 people talking at once -- our brains just can't process that much, that fast. However, MC has a theory that when in flow, the brain is using most of the 110 bits to focus on the creative task at hand. Hence, the person loses track of time, sometimes reports feeling disconnected from his or her body, doesn't notice hunger or pain, etc.

Hearing this a light bulb went off. When I was sick I am pretty sure my brain wasn't able to process anywhere close to that norm of 110 bits. So here's my theory: when I had Lyme I could only process let's say 50 bits per second. Therefore, the threshold for reaching flow was actually lower. I didn't have to be a master potter to be transported by flow!

My encounter with Lyme created a deep respect for art as therapy. I met wonderful people via ceramics and became intrigued by how many of them originally came to art because of an emotional or physical loss. They came seeking to re-build themselves and stayed for the joy of creating -- for the flow. It scares me how the arts are cut from schools because they are seen as optional. Can the fields of science and psychology provide data to support the recuperative powers of creative engagement? Can healing be quantified?

Csikszentmihalyi, Mihaly. Flow: The Psychology of Optimal Experience. New York: Harper Collins, 1990.

The Dangers of Cleaning

This evening I was in a cleaning mood. I have vacuumed, done laundry, put together a bag for good will, and ditched some papers that were never going to be looked at again. In all this cleaning I came across my notes from when I was teaching in rural Mississippi. Reading just a few excerpts reminded me of the level of crazy that was my life for that window of time. Case in point--I had completely forgotten that one day when our principal was mad at the faculty she made all of us stand for the first hour of our faculty meeting. That is what I call classy leadership. Needless to say, this trip down memory lane sparked two thoughts:

1. I really need to write some short stories about my MS experiences.
   
2. I am so glad to be where I am at in my life right now.
   

I also ran across a notebook that I had started to fill with quotes and favorite words. There were two entries that felt particularly apropos. One was a quote by Isak Dineson,"All sorrows can be borne if they are put in a story." Mississippi was a very rich experience and by no means only sorrowful. However, I do think the act of crafting stories based on the experiences will help me to catalog what was many times too overwhelming to process in the moment.

The other entry was just a notation about the Sanskrit word santosha which means contentment. In the yogic tradition of niyama or self-discipline, santosha is one of the ways to practice self-discipline. I need to re-explore this idea. One of my favorite practices, which I have been slacking on, is to start each morning by listing off reasons why I (should) feel gratitude. It is good for me to remember that contentment is not a lazy feeling.

No more cleaning for me tonight. I have enough to think about without unearthing any other trips down memory lane!

Why? What Does it Mean?

This post does not answer either of the title questions. In fact you will get 30 minutes of interesting listening and zero answers from reading this. Don't say I didn't warn you.

I have been feeling overwhelmed at times as I listen to coverage of the devastation of Haiti. It stirs so many emotions and questions. I realize the self-centered arrogance of my saying I have a "bad day" because of frustrating vendors and phone conferences. How lucky am I that that is the extent of my bad day?!

When I cannot digest anymore NPR coverage, I have been catching up on my Radiolab (favorite podcast of all time) listening and discovered I had missed one of the shorts from April 2009. "In Silence" is a sermon/speech which co-host Robert Krulwich shared with his synagogue and with Radiolab listeners.

In this speech, Krulwich takes a look at the stories of both Abraham and Noah. He sets the stage, gives the biblical context, and then looks at the horrible conundrums faced by both of these men--one asked by God to sacrifice his own son, the other faced with watching the entire planet drown. For much of both of these bible stories, both men are silent, but what do these silences mean? Please click here when you have 26 minutes to listen to a masterful storyteller take on two stories which most of us take for granted.

It felt eerie how timely this podcast felt right now. How do we absorb the level of human suffering in Haiti? What can you choose to believe when presented with such devastation? There are no easy answers, but I felt that Krulwich looked at a very stark reality and came to a conclusion that I felt is both realistic and tentatively hopeful. I hope it brings you some peace and calm as well.

Breakfast Zen Once Again

Usually eggs are one of my favorite foods. Put a scrambled, hard-boiled, or over-medium egg in front of me and I say, "More please." Lately, I've grown tired of my usual work-day breakfasts. Fascinating dialogue:

Self, would you like eggs? hrrumph.
How about a smoothie? eh.
Frozen waffle? okay.

So, off to the freezer aisle. I purchased some Kashi waffles, branching out from my usual Van's. This proved to be a huge mistake. Soggy, bland, blah. Back to the freezer aisle with every intention of going back to my trusty Van's option. Then, I spot "A+ Cinnamon," "Sweet Potato," and "Pancake" all on one box. Clearly, that box executed a flawless swan dive into my cart. I had some trepidation as I lifted the box up to the cashier since my last foray into other brands had been such a disgrace.

This morning was day one of the pancake trial. Super tasty. I added butter and a little honey, but the flavor was quite nice sans any accouterments. These happen to be spelt, so not gluten free, but gluten-light. They also have 4 grams each of protein and fiber so they didn't leave me starved and grumpy by 9AM. De Wafelbakkers (yes that is the unfortunate brand name) has multiple different flavors and grains in both pancakes and waffles. Work mornings once again have a bit more pizazz. Thanks freezer aisle!

Eating my way into 2010

So far so good. You may (or may not, let's be honest) remember that I set three new year's guidelines in my last post. Don't worry, I won't make you actually go back and look; here they are:

1. Go six new places (breweries, countries, state parks, whatever)
   
2. Try 6 new things (DIY, software, cocktail)
   
3. Try 12 new recipes/ dishes (fairly self explanatory)

I am happy to report, that 2010 is starting off strong. By "strong" I of course mean that I am eating and drinking very well. Last week I finally had the joy of eating at Uchi. My Man Marc (hereinafter referred to as M3) and I sat at the sushi bar; watching the sushi chefs was fascinating. The care and detail that goes into each slice of the knife is pretty incredible. I am glad for the slow, precise work because those knives must be crazy sharp; they slice fish like it is butter. Everything we ate was delicious and I doubt I can pick a favorite. Oh wait, I'll try. Perhaps the biendo roll-- tempura tiger shrimp spring roll with spicy viet vin and frozen grape salsa. That's right, readers, frozen grape salsa!

Over the weekend I had the chance to go to Moonshine for brunch with M3 and his familia. Moonshine has been on my brunching wishlist for a while and I was in no way disappointed. There were two rooms dedicated to four tables containing a bounty of southern comfort brunch deliciousness. My perfect bite consisted of a little bit of basil pesto egg scramble, rosemary new potato, and green chile cheese grits. What is not to love? Well, perhaps the wait, but good company and coffee, so no complaints here.

Also over the weekend, I was in the mood to cook and I pulled out my Deborah Madison cookbook (thanks, sis). I was tempted to make saffron rice and coconut black beans because I love those recipes; however, my blog haunted me and I decided to try something new. I tackled Porcini and Tomato Ragout with Parmesan Polenta and was happy with the results (and the leftovers).

So I've made a start on numbers 1 and 3. Maybe my DIY project for #2 will be Mindy's Moonshine Inc. In retrospect, perhaps I should have set a few guidelines centered around exercise and activity...but the eating is so much fun.

Passport to Fun

Welcome to 2010 (two thousand ten or twenty ten depending on your ilk) and to a new decade! It feels like there is so much room for quality, resolution making. I usually avoid making official resolutions because they seem to be grandiose gestures with 1 month of follow through. However, yesterday I went for a lovely walk around Town Lake (Lady Bird -- again with the naming issue) and I decided to set down a few basic parameters. These are not as much resolutions as guidelines to push me out the door. It is a tad daunting to share these guidelines with you people since I know you are a bunch of nagging sticklers, but here goes:

1. Go six new places (breweries, countries, state parks, whatever)
   
2. Try 6 new things (DIY, software, cocktail)
   
3. Try 12 new recipes/ dishes (fairly self explanatory)
   

These don't have to be grand adventures, but that definitely counts as well. I can be a bit of a creature of habit. When I know there is something I like, I will return...restaurants, vacations, favorite recipes. But I love the feeling of *new,* so I am hoping to push against my habit-creature within. Examples from 2009 that could have made this list include: my trip to San Miguel de Allende, the inception of Mermindia, and my recipe find for delicious maple-syrup sweetened pumpkin chocolate chip bread recipe.

For 2010, I would like to use my passport at least once. The numero dos section is pretty wide open and opportunities could arise in the arenas of crafting, professional development, musica, and beyond. Finally, I'm pretty tired of my dinner/lunch options; hence my desire to expand my cooking repertoire. Recommendations for easy and amazing dinners are always welcome.

Happy You Year! What grand plans do you have in store for You?

Lights + Leftovers + Trust Issues

It's still Christmas in my corner of the world. My neighbors decorate our house every year and this year is more of a light fantasia than the last. Every year I try to remember when "Christmas" ends (i.e. when the lights come down), but for now the answer to that question is a definitive "not yet." This is great news because it means you still have a little longer to drive by and get the full effect. From this picture you can't really enjoy the blow-up Santa on his motorcycle or the entire village of Snowmen with spotlight. If you won't be able to make the drive may I recommend you hack into NASA and check the satellite photography. I'm pretty sure we show up. I'm also pretty sure we are on CPS's "Nice" list every year. Before I go further, let me clarify for my non-San Antonio readers...round these parts CPS has got two meanings, but City Public Services is the one to which I refer. This electricity bill subsidizes the river walk lights.

Christmas continues in the leftovers arena as well. When my mom and I were packing up my ziplocks of joy I was stymied as to the best way to transport a slice of carrot cake. (Yes, let me retract the statement that there were only 8 desserts at Christmas...we had 9...the carrot cake was under wraps until late in the day.) My mom and I decided that the best way to get the cake home with icing mostly still in place was to use a plastic plate with foil over the top. My parents have an assortment of kid-friendly dinner ware and mom pulled down the one from the top of that stack -- the Winnie the Pooh plate.

I witnessed an inner struggle. I think she nearly snatched the plate back to offer me a different one. Evidently this is a favorite with her niece and nephew who are both 3. She made it very clear I could take this plate, but only if I brought it back. I would like to note, I have a pretty stellar track record for returning tupper ware, but this plate is clearly a family heirloom and I am a shady character. Mom, I'll have you know the plate is drying and will be returned tomorrow. Oh, and thanks for all the delicious leftovers!

Hope you all have a good wind down to 2009. You ready for the teens?