That the economy is tanking.

I’ve been swimming lately in the Pacific ocean.  Even writing those words, I sigh…

My friend Lou and I go down to the beach a couple of times each week.  When we get there, we talk on the sand for a while, downloading our respective days, and then one of us says “Shall we?”

Lou has a certain way with the water; he runs straight at it, yelling “it’s warm!” to himself–and anyone nearby–before plowing headfirst into a wave.  The yang approach.  I, on the other hand, let the cold sting of the water electrify the soles of my feet first.  In that moment, when my nervous system shouts its first of many “Holy Crap!”s, everything becomes wonderfully still.  I smell the salt.  I feel the suck of the undertow at my heels as I tip backwards in the sand.  The glitter of the sun on the water almost hurts my eyes.  And then I see the foam.  The lovely foam.  A smile fixes itself on my face like I’m five years old.

I approach, excited yet cautious. The legs aren’t hard to submerge, until the mid-thighs.  That’s where the fat is tender and sensitive.  And the crotch–oh God–what is it about hitting the Lady Mound with cold water?  It’s almost nauseating, but once it’s done, it’s done.  All good.  My midriff offers little argument, but by the time I’m negotiating some medium waves, and my chest is their prey, I resist again.  It feels so wrong to have the breasts and heart slapped with icy, angry walls of water.  Lou yells from far away “get your head in!  It’s not good until you’re under!”  And he’s right.  Once I’ve surrendered it all…I’ve surrendered it all.  And it is good.

The ocean doesn’t know about Lehman Brothers.  She hasn’t heard George Bush’s warning of imminent economic collapse.  She has absolutely no interest in the price of oil and she certainly won’t be watching the debates.  I love that about her.  She’s just there, bigger than all of us; bigger than any baseball stadium or skyscraper we could dump in her… bigger than all the countries we are standing on, freaking out.  Although she might seem like a cold, moody bitch at times, she’s really just setting the rules.  Setting the real rules.

The ocean is a place of weightlessness.  Isn’t it nice to have a place to float, when everything feels like it’s sinking?  Do something free today.

Here’s a picture of Lou:

P.S.

My friend Christy is a macro cook here in Los Angeles and she’s giving a series of cooking classes coming up.  If you live in the area, check them out at: http://vivalagreens.com/cookingclasses.html

Here’s one her recipes:

Sweet Polenta Porridge

Ingredients:
3 cups filtered water
2 pinches sea salt
1 cup organic yellow polenta, washed
1/3 cup organic soy, rice, or almond milk
1 Tablespoon organic sweetener, more or less to taste
1 Tablespoon organic raisins
Dash of organic cinnamon

1 cup organic walnuts, chopped

Directions:
1.    Bring water and polenta to a boil in medium saucepan with sea salt.
2.    Simmer, stirring frequently for about 10 minutes until polenta gets thick and creamy.
3.    Stir in almond milk, raisins, cinnamon, and sweetener to polenta.
4.    Stir over low flame for a few minutes to incorporate the ingredients.
5.    Toast walnuts in skillet over medium flame until fragrant. Be careful not to burn the
nuts. Sprinkle over porridge.

This entry was posted on Thursday, September 25th, 2008 at 2:22 am and is filed under My Life, Photo, Recipes. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.