Maineiac Heart

We start in winter. Not the typical place to begin, but it is apt. This winter is particularly remarkable, as we have received a massive load of snow--70+ inches in only four weeks. And, it's FREEZING. Lowest average temps for February on record, a whopping 4.5 degrees F. I wasn't kidding when I said in my "About" section that Maine challenges me.

Yet, winter is the time when things rest and it's a great time to reflect on where we are and where we hope to go. Winter's quiet, (and its impassable roads!), allow you to be present. To stop moving. To wonder. You get the chance to both feel and see your breath! You get the chance to store energy and get ready for the spring to come.

My first year in Maine, I was living up north, in central Aroostook County, teaching in a small, rural school in Mars Hill. Mars Hill is known as the first place in the U.S. that gets the rays of the rising sun. Look it up on a map. It's the great north woods, on the US/Canadian border. That January in 1984, we had 18 days of -30 degrees F and below (that's NOT including windchill). I had to buy an engine heater for my car and plug it in each morning to warm the engine so it would start. I grew up in Nebraska and thought I knew how to handle a cold winter. Boy, was I ignorant. On March 16th that year in "the County", we received 36" of snow in less then 24 hours and they didn't even cancel school!!!!!!! That winter killed my love of snow and cold. I developed a pervasive case of Seasonal Affective Disorder--just ask my roommates from that year and they will confirm this.

It took years of hating, and then working to once again love, winter. But I did it. I learned to get out and play in it. I bought a sled and used it like I was a 10 year-old. I bought some snowshoes and began to explore the University of Maine woods' trails in winter. The hush of a snow-covered forest is soothing, and it soothed me. It also gave me confidence. If I can learn to enjoy and make the most of something I once loathed, I can change how I feel about other things as well.

One of those things is cooking. I, as of only a few years ago, was a non-cook. I was actually a disaster in the kitchen, hence the page of this blog that will house my entries about cooking, "Maineiac Kitchen." My husband used to say, "I never in my life saw anyone who dirtied so many dishes to make one recipe." That's me. However, something changed for me over the past year. I began to read some food blogs and tried my hand at the easiest ones, mostly those containing sugar. Gradually, I'm improving and oddly, for me, I'm enjoying it. It's actually becoming relaxing. There has always been some shame for me that I couldn't nurture family and friends with food. Panic would set in at the idea of having people over. I am embarrassed to admit that I worried when we got invited to someone's house for dinner that I would then be obligated to return the favor. (Yes, I am that neurotic.) I noticed that many food blogs don't speak to novice cooks. They use terms, ingredients, and cooking utensils that we beginners can't begin to understand or utilize. I hope to fill that niche, a bit. I will do my best to speak to those of us who have limited culinary knowledge. There's a lot of information out there for experienced cooks, but not so much for those of us just discovering the satisfaction of cooking for others and ourselves. I thought I would start with simple recipes, however I found that I am drawn to things with various elements. If I'm going to do something that isn't easy, I want to enjoy the end result when it actually turns out, and when it doesn't, I have a great lesson in acceptance and a chance to remind myself that, "while it didn't work, you took a shot and that's what matters." Plus, the old adage about learning more from mistakes than successes is true.

Additionally, I am a therapist and will use this site to post information, stories, and strategies for resolving stress and exploring how focusing mindfulness, including being mindful of thoughts and beliefs, can foster a sense of well-being. Those entries will be stored in the "Maineiac Mind" page.

I sit here typing, with my dog, Toby's, head on my foot. The woodstove is crackling. The sky outside the window is almost as white as the snow. The sun is fighting to break through. It's a start.

For this moment, this one section of time, all is well. That, in itself, is everything.