On the Lookout....for Outlook!

This week’s contest topic at FaithWriters is “outlook.” 

When I concentrate really hard, sometimes I intentionally squint my eyes and go into fuzz-brain-mode….I’m told it’s pretty funny if you’re the one watching!  I used to do this with a serious face when decorating cakes in my bakery; it helped squeeze out the creative juices. I’m in that fuzzy-brained stage at the moment, considering  the topic – outlook – and what it means to have various outlooks or points of view.

Although I’m not an avid or regular fan of the Peanuts comic strip, some of the oh-so-stereotyped Peanuts crew jumped out of the fuzz just now.  Charlie Brown focuses on his own weaknesses until his thoughts become so narrow he can’t “get” the bigger picture.  Lucy assumes her outlook should be everyone’s outlook, and is self-limiting in the opposite way.  Woodstock flits around without consistently focusing (or connecting) at all, and settles for a drone of wah-wah-waaaahs that only mimic real communication – an outside-insider of the gang with his own unique self-absorption.

On a more serious note, he apostle Paul speaks clearly about point of view in his letter to the Philippians.  “I press on toward the goal to win the prize for which God has called me heavenward in Christ Jesus,” he writes.  “All of us then, who are mature should take such a view of things.  And if on some point you think different, that too God will make clear to you.  Only let us live up to what we have already attained.”  (Philippians 3:14-16)

Outlook.  Such an interesting word.  Is my outlook an in-look, like those in the Peanuts gang??  How much introspection is necessary and desirable (or not) to have an effective outlook and impact?

I will be on the lookout (note the twist!) in the next few days for answers to these and other related questions about outlook.  Then I will be surprised, as usual, when an entry shows up (where do they come from, really?).  This week marks my 6^th year at FaithWriters, and I haven’t missed submitting a weekly entry yet – not even once.  That, in itself, requires a certain outlook – I’m either committed or addicted!

Gluten-Free

So I might as well let the cat out of the bag.  This ex-bakery owner (speaking of myself) who has baked countless rolls and cookies and cakes, is turning a corner – no, try a more dramatic analogy – is skydiving from the heights of gooey cinnamon rolls and glazed sour cream coffeecake and aromatic cran-apple pie into the depths of the home of the brave and the land of the gluten-free.

Astonishing.

I’ve known for 33 years unofficially, and 26 years officially, that wheat and I were not good friends, and oatmeal and I only barely tolerated one another.  Within the last year a healthcare provider challenged me: “Do you think you’re dealing with celiac?”  Hmmmmm.  That’s not a pretty thought.  Celiac disease involves compromised small intestines and can predispose a lot of nasty health problems. 

I didn’t want to go through all the testing which can be quite involved, not to mention inconclusive. But a possible verification came just within the last week when I put gluten intolerance together with a recent diagnosis and came up with a loud-and-clear match.  Gluten (transferred via a leaky small intestine that has gluten-destroyed villi) is often linked as a causal factor!  And a gluten-free diet can be integral in managing or even eliminating the issue! Bingo.

The other good news is that Fritz is committed to go gluten free as well since research also shows his own (very different) chronic issue can be caused and/or aggravated by gluten intolerance and/or celiac.

You might be thinking, now that’s weird, what possibly could be the connection between two unrelated, but serious, health concerns and gluten (a protein in wheat)?  Well, I’ll tell you.  Inflammation.  And inflammation is a bottom-line cause of lots of disease including fibromyalgia, lupus, and other “elusive” disorders.  Let that sink in.  It might be valuable information for you, or someone you love, someday.

I have observed over time that I do best when I eliminate most cooked starches.  An almost-all-raw fruits-veggies-nuts-seeds diet suits me well.  BUT when the hankering strikes it’s helpful to have an option other than gluten-laden wheat products lying around.  So to get to the point (sorry for so much digression), I’m applying what I know about baking to non-glutinous flours, and learning the quirks of said flours, and so far I’ve not been sorely disappointed with the results.  Here’s a picture of a quick-bread creation from last night: chocolate-banana bread with dates.  

Of course it’s not an ultimately perfect food, (there’s still some brown sugar lurking in there), but it is a step in a better direction when binge cravings hit.  A major victory has been won if it’s tasty enough to keep those death-trap Oreos at bay….and according to my taste-tester husband, IT IS.

Coon Babies

Here's a quick picture of the baby raccoon(s) mentioned in today's second post:

Fly-In and Fly-Out

An aquatic plane visited the lake this evening, reminding me of an oversized metallic waterfowl with a blue-and-white striped potbelly.  It sort of slipped in on us unexpectedly (honestly, we didn’t notice it come down) and was skimming along with an air of finesse and just the right amount of white spray, Cypress Garden style, when I went out on the deck to photograph the TWO baby coons rambling around out there.  (Yes, our first baby brought along a sibling this time, and they’re both clueless.  Totally unafraid.)  Just as I snapped my long-awaited pictures of the darling little bandit faces, I looked up.  “OH, very cool, very cool….look….an airplane!”

This is not unusual for our lake – we have aquatic planes practice landing and taking off every once in a while. Still, it’s a fascinating sight to watch, and every time I’m a little bit awe-struck.

So to continue the story, the little coons tumbled on their way, baby-coon style, and I turned my attention to the plane.  It gracefully turned around in a wide arc while perched elegantly on its pontoons, revved the engine, and taxied for a fairly short distance before lifting off – not unlike the swans when they literally run on top of the water to gain enough momentum to take to the air.  When it finally did go airborne, it climbed only high enough to barely clear the trees (yikes!) and then circled the lake with one wing tipped down as if to wave in farewell.  Pretty dramatic, I’d say.

Change

Change can be a refreshing and energizing agent of momentum that swings us toward something new, expanding us from stale predictability to a place of fresh adventure and sometimes (if we cooperate) holistic healing. However, in reality some changes sidle alongside like timid little gnomes to nudge us here or there, while others are downright radical and fist-clenching-ly persistent.

Right now I’m looking at lifestyle changes that might address causes of serious health issues.  It’s sort of a big deal. This involves researching (searching and re-searching) the bottom line, and the not-so-small changes that could affect that foundational bottom line.  Sometimes I find leads.  Sometimes I find dead-ends, or what appear to be black holes. In it all, I have a choice – to run away (effectively resist the change) or forge ahead.

This kind of change is intentional rather than accidental.  It involves kicking out gnarly, sultry, mean-spirited and stubborn old tobacco-chewing habits and opinions (please, please, think figuratively here!!) that have taken a lifetime to form. You know, those behaviors that have been practiced for so long they’ve matured into self-governmental legislative agencies called attitudes. It means starting over, wiping the slate clean, and dancing with fresh toddler steps with a new mind-set toward a new goal. 

It’s important to purge those surly old habits before fresh new intentions, motives, and habits can emerge – and that can be hard work. (Purge and emerge – nice!)  If token commitment/appeasement is the goal, rather than heart-and-soul-and-body CHANGE, the practiced mind-set will just take over and continue to run on automatic pilot.

I’m talking about transformation, here. 

In the end analysis, discovery can be exciting, challenging, encouraging, and life-altering as the catalyst for renewal - but also downright scary.  Intimidating as well as alluring. Can I?  Will I? Of course….I must! But how?

In God I trust, one wobbly baby step at a time. 

Unexpected Tenant

Unexpected Tenant

Q: What’s about the size of a fuzzy brown softball with a head defined by a very pointy nose and beady black eyes? 

A: The cutest baby raccoon you’ve ever seen.

He must still be very young – maybe just a few weeks old.  We had no idea a coon family was living under our deck when this fuzz-ball boldly lumbered baby-walk-style (only with a decided coon-ish flair) across the yard today.  It was most likely his first outing from the confines of the dark-under-deck-world, and he didn’t know to be afraid.  At all. 

He found a piece of dried-up fishy-looking-something - a perfect pacifier - and headed for a bush with it.  I ran for my camera, but no amount of prodding with a stick would bring him out.  He didn’t resist the stick or snarl at us, but just sat there happily gnawing his stinky treasure as if of course giants with poking sticks were just part of everyday life.  No big deal.

We still haven’t seen mama or any other babies, but assume the rest of the family is being a little more cautious.   And so, tonight we must make a decision. To set the trap, or not to set the trap….that is the question.

A few years ago a very fat groundhog announced his presence just as the snow began to fly, and then spent the winter hibernating underneath the deck. Of course I don’t blame critters for hanging out there since our hot tub is recessed and provides a lovely snuggle-up environment in the otherwise harsh Michigan winter.  It’s the least we can do.

More and Less

For decades my key ring has carried a fat wad of keys that unlocked doors on assorted houses, sheds, or vehicles.  A few unlocked suitcases.  The collection varied over time as keys came and went, but usually included current keys as well as long- unused ones I kept handy, just in case. 

Today I decided it was time to purge my key ring. I think it was a symbolic act.

Two thick Ford keys belonged to an old van parked semi-permanently for the last year at our son’s property as the construction workers’ trailer. They needed to go. I will never drive it again.  Actually, probably no one will drive it again!

I also slipped off four other keys, two recognizable as car keys (but to what vehicle?) and two that look like they might belong to the house and milk house in Buck Creek (although I thought we turned those in at the time of the sale?).  Anyway, I’m down from ten to four keys on my ring, which for the first time in years feels very light.  That outside kangaroo pocket of my purse – the full-term-pregnant-looking-one - only bulges with a tiny tummy, now.

This purging is reminiscent of a larger prevailing attitude at my current stage of life.  It seems important to unload the extras, to simplify and shrug off whatever is unnecessary while focusing on core priorities – but even then, to hold those precious things lightly.  Life is mine only in the sense that it is on loan to me – given without my involvement, and taken away without my consent. With that said, it is crazy to spend my days accumulating (which also often involves hoarding/scheming/manipulating) things that won’t matter in the eternal long haul.

I’m learning less IS often more.  Less also makes room for more of what matters.