Cultivating Your Power Through Running Away

Yes, I know it's been a while since I've posted anything. No, I haven't forgotten about Sexy Food Therapy - quite the opposite actually. I've just been taking some time out. When the Intellect and I decided to run, I realized I needed to step back before jumping head first into something. This didn't mean I was changing my mind about him. It only meant that I needed to do a little pre-run to make sure I was prepared for the big step of moving out of the Estrogen Den. I never thought about taking time out for myself before and as a result, I lost myself during the five years with the Ex. Soon enough, I became frightened at the stranger starring back at me in the mirror. So all this running makes me question, can you cultivate your power through running away?

It was almost too good to be true one sunny Tuesday afternoon when Gail and I stumbled upon a $350 (taxes included) flight to Trinidad. Fumbling for my glasses, I couldn't believe it was possible to fly for so cheap, when Canadians can't even fly within our own country for $350. It wasn't soon until credit cards were whipped out with fingers crossed that we could squeeze the amount in. We both have our expenses: my last term of tuition coming up, student debts, rent and good food of course...but to hell with it we thought. We couldn't afford not to go. There was too much on both our plates that we needed to cultivate our power back through running away for 10 sunny days.

The Intellect was completely supportive, realizing that I needed a vacation with my best gal pal. Because once I was back, we would start the first step of two big runs: moving in together and step number two: running away to Italy for three months (the most that either one of us could really afford). When people asked about all these changes, I thought, no sweat, it's cool. However truthfully, I was overwhelmed and unhappy dreams began to surface of the Ex and I living in our last place. I desperately didn't want the past to repeat itself.

Jumping on a gruesome all day stop-over flight, Gail and I were exhausted. We arrived to the small chaotic airport of Port of Spain and embarked under a three and a half hour drive with our crazy yet very cool "driva" Sylvia (Trini's take the "er" off of everything and replace it with an "a"). Through listening to reggae and going through zigs, zags and sharp corners, Sylvia who owned an orange orchard back in Grand Riviere hugged the turns at high speed. Thankfully my ability to sleep on a rock if I had to kept my stomach in my stomach and not out my mouth. We arrived to small Grand Riviere on the north east coast of Trinidad on Easter Monday and finally collapsed into our beds and soon fell asleep. Well, at least Gail did - sort of.

You have to understand that Easter is a BIG deal in Trinidad, and our warm and friendly host, Kevin, didn't have much time after so much festivities in the house to properly make our bed. So without a mosquito net, I shut my eyes and woke up as buzzing mosquitoes circled my head like Pig Stye in Peanuts. Don't get me wrong, I loved Trinidad, but I can certainly do without the mosquitoes. All night in my comfy little bed, I began my flamenco routine hoping that I could kill each little bastard - one clap at a time...but they kept on coming. Soon enough, I realized that covering and suffocating myself with my blanket would be a better fate than being eaten alive.

But I lived to blog about it.

In fact, at 4:30am, the roosters began, better known to me as Bastard #2 and his brothers Bastard 3, 4 and 5. Groggy the next day, I would have hooked up coffee into an IV if I had one, but we were kindly greeted by Kevin who made us feel incredibly at home and ensured that the bed situation would be sorted out that night - thank God.

Heading to the beach for a little R&R, I quickly pulled myself out of the grumpy sleepy little rut and got in some girl time at the beach. Hearing the oceans crash and sand beneath our toes, Gail and I began shooting the shit. Things came up, tears were shed and in Trinidad, Gail and I purged. It's not easy travelling with a friend for the first time and yes, there were some disagreements. However this isn't a negative thing. In fact, I believe disagreements are lessons in disguise helping us further cultivate our power if we simply recognize the cues as they arise. There in Grand Riviere, Gail and I learned about each other and ourselves. We became stronger as friends and most importantly as women. In the end, as much as we loved our hosts, we ended up shacking up at a hotel on the beach to get some time away to do exactly what we came to Trinidad to do - clear our heads. So one night, Gail and I headed for the beach again at sunset with our yoga mats. There she shared with me a mantra that she learned in an ashram in India and I chanted along mumbling some of the words like a song I barely knew. At first my eyes were open, swallowing in as much of the ocean I could, but to her suggestion, I finally closed them and as Gail put it, we became one with life.

As I mentioned, there were a lot of lessons learned in Trinidad. In fact as I walked the hilly roads saying evening to the friendly passer-byes, the word, trust would pop in randomly. It made me realize that it's so easy to fear the future or question our abilities to succeed, pay the bills or whether we're good enough or smart enough to get what we want. So I did my best during this time away to pay attention to every negative, regressive thought that would pop in and simply say trust. Who knew that one word could carry so much weight or how much unnecessary baggage we actually carry around? Tiring really...

Now I would give you a recipe from the food that nourished us off the land in Grand Riviere, but it would go against the idea of living off the land here in Ontario. So I'll share with you a dish that provides me with power and energy and is incredibly easy to make - my Sexy Roasted Lemon Bird. Now most people would eat chicken with potatoes, but I much prefer to pair it with salad (and in a bit I'll explain why). I love this recipe and excuse me for being a little cocky (pun intended), but I make the best damn sexy roasted bird you'll ever have.

SEXY ROASTED LEMON BIRD

1 medium sized natural or organic chicken

1 whole garlic bulb, with cloves peeled and sliced up

1 package of organic mixed fresh herbs

1 organic lemon cut in half

Organic butter as needed

1/4 cup organic low sodium chicken stock

1 large organic red onion quartered

Sea salt & cracked pepper as needed

Begin by washing the bird with water, getting under the legs and in the cavity. Pull out any guts that might be hiding away. Finish by drying the bird.

Melt a couple of tbsp of butter in a pot, until just melted and pour over the bird and under the skin if possible.

Start by making small incisions throughout the bird and stuff garlic in them. I like to place these slices of garlic underneath the skin as well.

Use one half of the lemon and squeeze on top of the bird and under the skin.

Sprinkle salt and cracked pepper over the bird, under the skin and in the cavity. Make sure to be generous since, this is a whole chicken we're talking about.

Separate half the mixed herbs and chop up. Use these herbs and sprinkle over the bird and under the skin.

Stuff the rest of the herbs, whole pieces of garlic cloves and half lemon into the cavity.

Place chicken in a large pan that's you've poured the 1/4 cup of chicken stock in and quarters of onions.

The secret to a juicy chicken is in three steps:

Juicy Bird Step 1: Turn the chicken upside down so the breast side is down. All the juices will pour to the breasts and they won't be their usual dry selves.

Juicy Bird Step 2: Cover your bird with aluminum for 3/4's of your cooking time. The bird will steam beautifully in and gather all the flavours.

So with a covered bird, cook in the oven at 400 for 15 minutes, then...

Juicy Bird Step 3: Turn heat to a low 325 and continue to cook covered for 50 or so minutes.

After just over an hour has passed, you'll want to uncover your bird, baste it, turn it over and roast it on low for a remaining 15 minutes. Make sure to watch the bird so it doesn't burn. This step helps to ensure a nice crispy skin which will happily hide a juicy interior that will make you mmmm and ahhhh - "trust" me.

One of the reasons why I pair this roast with a hearty salad is because I think that potatoes, rice or any other starch is completely unnecessary - especially for us blood type O's. Not to mention, salad with protein is good food combining and helps our little digestive systems break things down easier. Now I'm always amazed at how many people ask me if I'm a veg head and are surprised with my answer. Now this doesn't mean that I consume an excess of meat, but rather that I feel better having it in my diet in moderation. And making a roast on a Sunday is perfect. You'll have a great dinner and left overs for wraps and salads for a couple days ahead in your busy week. It's that simple.

When people find out how this chicken is made the question, why butter comes up. Well...why not? Everyone is terrified of it, but really in small doses, it's perfectly fine. Butter contains plenty of vitamins and minerals that it's evil margarine wanna-be-twin can't claim. Olive oil at high temperatures goes rancid, so butter is certainly the safer bet. However when using butter, always go organic. It's fat and toxins accumulate in fat and with all the crap that accompanies commercially raised chicken, do you really want to risk it?

So after 10 days of beautiful Grand Riviere and it's warm and friendly country folk, I'm now thrown back into life. In fact, I moved the days right after...I ran straight out of the Estrogen Den into Ghettoville with the Intellect. Okay, maybe I'm exaggerating, but we do live in the city's core now in a beautiful furnished sublet minutes away from Cabbagetown and Regent Park. The move was relatively painless, but I felt clear and powerful enough to take it on with a completely new perspective that I didn't have when I moved out with the Ex.

It's always great to get away, but it certainly is good to come home. I love this damn city and somehow I'm able to sleep beyond the wailing sirens and the prostitutes on the corner trying to make it in their own way. But anything is better than the Bastards number one through five that kept me up. I realized our problems will always be waiting or will follow us where ever we go and that's exactly what happened. Sometimes running away from the busy go-go-go of life can actually give you the space to sit still and finally see your own reflection. Through that, you have the opportunity to cultivate your power and do something useful with your time rather than ignore what's going on. I don't think my new budding relationship would survive without the individual strength that I needed to be ready for the big steps that await me.

Now I can be excited, versus overwhelmed and give myself in it's entirety...because before I had little left to give. Now I can truly compliment someone versus look at the Intellect to complete me in the ways I was deficient. To hell with Jerry McGuire...he was wrong.

Now, I'm ready...