Chickpea Spinach Curry


I love this recipe. I like to use more spice than it calls for…but that’s just me. It makes the kitchen smell sooooooooo good! 


  • 1 onion, roughly chopped
  • 1 tablespoon coconut oil
  • 2 garlic cloves, sliced
  • 1 knob ginger, grated – or ginger powder
  • 1 teaspoon cumin
  • 1 teaspoon turmeric
  • 1 teaspoon chili flakes – or chili powder
  • 4 plum tomatoes, roughly chopped
  • 10 oz chopped baby portobello mushrooms
  • 1 cups water
  • 1 can organic chickpeas
  • 2 cups spinach
  • Salt and pepper


  1. Add the chopped onions to the frying pan with the oil and cook for approximately four minutes until starting to soften. Add in the garlic, ginger and spices. Cook for a further minute until the spices are fragrant.
  2. Add in the chopped tomatoes and mushrooms and cook for a minute, then add the water.
  3. Add the chickpeas and simmer for eight minutes, adding the spinach, salt, and pepper at the last minute to wilt down.

To Know This Moment…

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To know this moment is to be alive. 

To know this moment is to know now is all we have.

To know this moment is to understand choice.

To know this moment is to appreciate grace. 

To know this moment is to be free.

To know this moment is to be present. 

To know this moment is to have happiness.

To know this moment is to experience peace.


Love And Problem Of Pride


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When I think about pride, I often remember something my mother once asked me…“Would you rather be right or would you rather be happy?” She went on to explain that often, you cannot be both.

The need to be right has an under handed appeal. The need to be right gives us a false sense of our own importance but it often makes us lose sight of the needs of others. We become selfish when we are too prideful. All things become about us and our world begins to shrink because others grow tired of our ego centric point of view. Our inability to bend alienates us from the people we care about most.

Pride makes us deaf and blind but rarely mute as we spout our truth as if it is gospel. Reality dictates that our truth is only a point of view. It is not written in stone and it is not necessarily even accurate but pride keeps us from being willing to see another’s point of view. This is often when others grow weary of us.

Over the years, I have learned that sharing my opinion is one thing but digging in is another. When I dig in, I cannot hear the needs and concerns of the people I love and this creates distance and distance makes me unhappy. Pride becomes lonely.

Not only do I not need to be right all the time, I am often just plain wrong when I have been the most righteous in my single minded pontification. This is usually when I fall the hardest and I have been known to fall pretty hard from time to time. I think we all do. It’s part of being human.

My disease has humbled me. It has made me realize in an entirely new way, that I know not the journey of another person and therefore I have no right to judge it. In an unexpected way this humility has been a gift. It has freed me to be forgiving. It has made me realize that being right is simply not as important as being happy and most of all it has made me better understand that my mother was right.

Sure it still feels good, in a self centered sort of way, to be right but now…it’s just not that important and I would rather be happy!

When Kindness Is Lost…

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When kindness is lost the light goes out.

When kindness is lost the door closes.

When kindness is lost the shades come down.

When kindness is lost the sky has no stars. 

When kindness is lost the clouds are grey. 

When kindness is lost the cupboard is empty.

When kindness is lost the world gets colder.

Holiday Break…


Until next year…my blogs will be hit and miss.

I have much company here and lots of holiday stuff going on.

Wishing all my readers/followers all the very best for the holiday season and a very happy, healthy and joyful new year!

Thank you all for your continued support and for taking the time to read and hopefully enjoy my ramblings!

Street Cleaning…


I’ve been thinking a lot about the year, especially as it comes to a close and the word that comes to mind is forgiveness. It’s been a year full of all kinds of forgiveness and mostly I’ve had to forgive myself.

I am hard on myself. I expect too much. I push too hard and that’s been a life long habit. At times, like with my career, it has served me well. In most other areas of my life, it hasn’t because I also expect too much from others. Since my sarcoidosis diagnosis, forgiveness has come slowly and sometimes painfully…literally. This year I chipped a tooth pushing myself too hard and sprained an ankle. I have to accept my limits and that is a work in progress.

But as I work on forgiving myself for what I can no longer do, and as I let go of guilt, I also find that I am kinder and more gentle with others. I don’t hold grudges like I once did and I am better able not only to let stuff go, but to be less opinionated about what isn’t my business.

I am learning to keep my side of the street clean. I am coming to better understand that if I just focus on my own behavior and my own reactions to the world that this is a big enough job to keep me pretty busy and I don’t have time to worry about the actions or reactions of others. This allows me to let go of the illusion of control. Other people don’t have to react to me the way I want them to and other people don’t have to think or feel the same way I do in order for me to accept them.

When I focus on doing the right thing for the simple reason that it is the right thing, without expectations of others as a result of my actions, then I have more peace and my heart is open to allow others the to be truly themselves and my relationships improve.

Even though the lessons have been physically painful at times and sometimes emotionally draining, I am still grateful for them. Learning to focus on myself and not on the approval or disapproval of others is freeing. I am able to live with more grace. I am able to love more fully.

To Cry…

We need never be ashamed of our tears.”   – Great Expectations by Charles Dickens


I admit, I’m not a good crier. I hate crying. I never used to cry. I used to be good at holding back tears. Now, I cry quite easily. I cry at sad or sappy movies. I cry when I say goodbye to people I know I won’t see again for awhile. I cry over Halmark commercials and at pictures of adorable animals on Facebook. The thought of how quickly time goes by, moves me to tears if I’m feeling sentimental and I feel sentimental a lot more now than I used to.

Some people relish their tears. These are the people who say that they actually enjoy a “good cry”…that they feel better for it. I rarely feel better for it. I sometimes feel lighter for it but rarely better. I hate the puffy eyes and the stuffed up nose that come with a serious cry but I do understand the need to cry now in ways I never did before. Crying is a release. It relieves pent up physical stress. It changes my perspective.

Even though I get it and even though I do it more now, since my sarcoidosis diagnosis, I still hate crying. I don’t see myself turning into someone who looks forward to. I won’t be setting aside time for it in my schedule. At the same time, I am no longer ashamed to cry. Crying is not a sign of weakness. It is actually a sign of strength. It is a very real, very human emotion that allows us to utterly and truly be ourselves in those moments when our face is wet and our nose is dripping.

Perhaps this change in how easily I cry now, is a sign that I am more in touch with my humanity. Perhaps all these new found tears really mean is that I now know how precious and fragile life can be.