Yes, one can do great things with one artichoke, one lemon and two people for dinner. This simple recipe for braised artichokes is from the Minimalist – you can see it on YouTube here.
This is what we did: Take one large artichoke and slice it in half.
Photo R. Meshar
Core the center
Photo R. Meshar
Melt 2 tbsp. butter in a sauté pan
Photo R. Meshar
Sauté artichoke halves for about 5 minutes
Photo R. Meshar
Untill brown
Photo R. Meshar
Add 1 cup of chicken broth and simmer artichoke, covered, for about 20 minutes, until tender
Photo R. Meshar
Remove braised artichoke and add juice of one lemon, grated lemon rind and 1 tsp of mustard or cracked black pepper (if desired). Reduce sauce.
Photo R. Meshar
Pour sauce into small dishes. Place artichoke halves on plate with crusty garlic bread (bread made by Roxanne earlier in the morning)
Unplug. Take a technology vacation, a technology break, a technology hiatus. Disconnect. Do it for a week. Do it for a day or like Nick Bilton, do it for thirty minutes a day. Just do it.
Learn to connect in a different way. Pico Iyer did it. He calls it the Joy of Quiet in his New York Times article, writing:
MAYBE that’s why more and more people I know, even if they have no religious commitment, seem to be turning to yoga, or meditation, or tai chi; these aren’t New Age fads so much as ways to connect with what could be called the wisdom of old age. Two journalist friends of mine observe an “Internet sabbath” every week, turning off their online connections from Friday night to Monday morning, so as to try to revive those ancient customs known as family meals and conversation. Finding myself at breakfast with a group of lawyers in Oxford four months ago, I noticed that all their talk was of sailing — or riding or bridge: anything that would allow them to get out of radio contact for a few hours.
Other friends try to go on long walks every Sunday, or to “forget” their cellphones at home. A series of tests in recent years has shown, Mr. Carr points out, that after spending time in quiet rural settings, subjects “exhibit greater attentiveness, stronger memory and generally improved cognition. Their brains become both calmer and sharper.” More than that empathy, as well as deep thought, depends (as neuroscientists like Antonio Damasio have found) on neural processes that are “inherently slow.” The very ones our high-speed lives have little time for.
I spent 10 minutes trying to compose the perfect shot, moving my phone from side to side, adjusting light settings and picking the perfect filter.
Then, I stopped. Here I was, watching this magnificent sunset, and all I could do is peer at it through a tiny four-inch screen.
“What’s wrong with me?” I thought. “I can’t seem to enjoy anything without trying to digitally capture it or spew it onto the Internet.”
Hence my New Year’s resolution: In 2012, I plan to spend at least 30 minutes a day without my iPhone. Without Internet, Twitter, Facebook and my iPad. Spending a half-hour a day without electronics might sound easy for most, but for me, 30 unconnected minutes produces the same anxious feelings of a child left accidentally at the mall.
Those anxious feelings? Those are the feelings of immaturity, of resisting wrestling with our own interior, of refusing to embrace the reality of our own lack of control. We need to grow up. We need to develop the adult ability to make space for silence. Space to listen to our own wisdom. Space to simply be. Then we can begin to live comfortably inside our own skin. Then we can begin to live comfortably with others.
Turn off your TV. Stop your stereo. Rest your iPhone and iPad. Experience withdrawal from your “crackberry.”
Unplug. Connect in a different way. Experience silence. Just be.
The media makes sure that we are aware of the differences of each tradition. Christianity claims Jesus is God who brings salvation or healing. Islam claims the Q’uran is God speaking. Judaism claims the Law will save us. Yoga claims the eight-fold path (Ashtanga) will bring divine union or equanimity. Buddhism claims Buddha was a human being who achieved enlightenment.
In spite of their real and significant differences, have you ever noted the interesting similarities between Buddhism, Yoga, Judaism, Christianity and Islam?
We do need to acknowledge that there are vast differences in beliefs between the world’s major philosophical traditions of Buddhism and Yoga, along with the religious traditions of Judaism, Christianity and Islam. Each of these traditions promises a different goal or end. Salvation, divine union or enlightenment, for example, are not the same thing. We need to trust that each tradition knows enough about its own spiritual path to know where they are taking their followers. We could say that there are many worthwhile destinations in the land of God or ultimate reality, if you like.
Then again, it can be noted that there are vast differences within each of these traditions themselves. In many ways, Reform and Orthodox Judaism are miles apart for example. The same is true of evangelicals and Catholics in the Christian tradition.
Still, as a group, these traditions do highlight surprisingly similar aspects of the experience of living a human life. Today I thought I would detail a few of them quickly. The similarities highlighted here are what I am familiar with from my own personal study in each tradition – but don’t cover every tradition. Nevertheless, I find these similarities curious and in a way, appealing, even comforting.
Each tradition tells us something about the human story or path. Each tradition offers a way for embarking on the spiritual journey. That journey often requires losing or leaving everything behind (“Leave everything and follow me.”) There is great suffering associated with this. Buddha can barely stand to leave his wife and son.
However, the resulting journey is worth this huge cost. The journey requires that we navigate a path that was unanticipated. This path is partially illuminated before us – just like the picture above – it lures us in. But what lies ahead is hidden. We must trust. In many cases it is through a deep suffering or loss that our path is revealed. In any case, we have an opportunity to discover the true nature of reality – which is this: our bliss or joy comes by being truly, deeply present to each moment, as it really is (“Now begins the practice of Yoga.” Sutra 1.1.) This love, joy, divine nature, is in fact the underpinning of reality – “the pearl of great price,” freedom from suffering, liberation from slavery, union with the divine.
We are initimately connected to this reality. More than this, we are actually a part of it. “The Kingdom is within you” Jesus tells us. It is our own minds and undisciplined ego that bring about suffering. “What defiles comes from within not from without.” It is our enslavement to culture, ego and desire – symbolized in the dominant cultures of Egypt or Rome for example – that brings pain to us and others.
We don’t need a monastery, deprivation, or rigidity. This is merely another form of enslavement. Moderation is enough. We only need to be present to the teacher within ourselves which is manifested through each and every moment we live.
Being present to each moment is difficult because it requires letting go of our ego and cultural way of viewing things – a softening of our programmed lenses, if you will or replacing our stoney hearts with hearts of flesh as the Jewish scriptures declare. But if we can use the disciplines of moderation, the Five Pillars, asana poses, other-centeredness and meditation or contemplative prayer, (time in the desert) we can learn to become truly present to reality as it really is.
These disciplines are defined in the Eight-Fold Path (Yoga), the Five Pillars (Islam), the Law (Judaism), the path of moderation and meditation (Buddhism), following Jesus and his teaching to be other-centered or Christ-centered (Christianity). Seeing reality clearly, then, allows us to move along the path of our chosen tradition.
What is not often articulated in these traditions is that “seeing reality as it really is” requires seeing the systemic discrimination we collectively inflict on others (through laws, discrimination and customs) because of greed, anger, ignorance (self-centeredness). The antidotes are generosity, compassion, knowledge and most importantly, working for systemic change to relieve the suffering of others caused by a lack of care embedded in our social laws, customs and structures.
Statistically, people tend to die more frequently in the winter, especially during the holidays. Death isn’t the opposite of life, as our culture teaches us. Rather, death is a part of life. The opposite of death is birth. Both are a part of life. Unfortunately, our culture has an abhorrence of death and resists the process of death at every turn.
Rather than resisting death at all costs, perhaps we should think about what it means to die well? Catholics celebrate death very well. We know the importance of prayer, community, ritual, incense, candles, procession, music to help those who remain deal with the loss of someone close to them.
We also know that death is not the end. We believe that life continues beyond death. Consider the photo above as a metaphor for death. Is it a sunrise, a sunset or both at once?
The Japanese also have some beautiful traditional rituals surrounding death. Watch the Japanese film Departures to get a sense to the care and reverence given to those who die – and those who remain.
I spent time with a very close friend of mine who died too young from ovarian cancer. She was fully present to her life – even in her dying. I learned from her that if we live each day fully present, as if each day was our last, then we have learned to live well – and dying well is already incorporated into how we live.
Death changes us, but death is not the end. We are transcendent beings of love and depth. We exist beyond our death.
