Paradise Lost & Found

 

Leaving Illinois Sept 28th 2015

A year ago, Fred, Rich, Kevin, Tiffany, and myself packed up and moved down to Florida. I can’t believe a year has gone by already. 

We are not in Kansas anymore.

While making casual conversation with people in stores or restaurants, I say, “Oh we just moved here from Chicago recently.” As if it was a few weeks or months ago. My brain hasn’t comprehended all the changes that have happened in the last year. It doesn’t feel real. 

  

Naples Florida

St. Augustine Castillo de San Marcos

The moving to Florida part has exceeded our expectations. It’s paradise. We are happy we moved to Vero Beach where we feel like we’re on vacation all the time: music and art festivals, palm trees, exotic birds, miles of quiet beaches, and endless summer. We enjoy getting in the car and exploring new towns of Florida. Some of our favorites: St. Augustine, Palm Beach, Jupiter, Stuart, Naples, and Sanibel Island. It seems there are endless opportunities and beautiful places to experience. 

  

We found a big house that suited our needs.  Kevin and his fiancé Tiffany had the upstairs and we had the downstairs. Going into this experience we all thought optimistically it would work out well. That lasted for about a day.

The first eight months living together in Florida was truly the hardest year of my life. And let me tell you, in 30 years together, we’ve had some hard years. But nothing like this: Tiffany confessed that she was an opiate drug addict for over a decade. It blindsided and terrified us. Given her harrowing background, she had mental and physical needs that we were not equipped to handle (like the first time she detoxed in our house and additional relapses). Tiffany was going to need drug treatment if she was going to live. Kevin was going to need a 12-step program for co-dependency; he had been handling Tiffany all on his own for over a year. This was bigger than him—bigger than all of us. 

We showed support and love from the moment Tiffany told us. The difficult part now was we were put in a position to be parents or counselors to our adult children 24/7 during this crisis stage. They needed boundaries and accountability if they were going to turn their lives around. We had to establish trust if they were going to continue to live in our house under these unique circumstances. This wasn’t a part of our plan. Trying to be the ‘velvet hammer’ so we could have stability didn’t go over well with them both. They wanted and needed our help but resisted it to their detriment. 

I could see their desire as a couple and as individuals to want to heal and overcome. At times they tried. However, their attempts were not sustainable without serious outside help. They had a daunting mountain range of self-exploration to climb to get to the other side of sobriety and normalcy. The drug addiction recovery odds are not high. Rehab is no guarantee she could remain clean. Would she survive? Would he cope if she didn't or moved on without him? We were attached and invested, hopeful, but realistic too. I had insomnia and a stomach ache for months from worry. 

The energy in our home was SO dense and depressing (even in spite of trying to be optimistic but firm). Fred also died suddenly. Our hearts were broken and overwhelmed. We put on 40-lbs each from dealing with this life and death situation all by ourselves, without our support system back home. We were sad, lonely, and fearful. I missed my girlfriends desperately. All we did was eat and process how to cope. 

It took getting into our own 12-step group for co-dependency before we were able to finally come up for air. That meant we also had to step way back and allow life to unfold without our intervention.

I’ll spare all the in-between disappointing conversations and heightened emotions over those many months. We were leveled and had little energy for much of anything. Addiction and co-dependency has a life of it’s own; we were not ourselves.  

Tiffany eventually went off to rehab in California. Two months later she showed up on the front door with a truck to pack all her stuff up, break up with Kevin, and move back to California. We have not spoken to her since that day. 

Our attention turned from helping Tiffany to helping Kevin cope and move on with his life again. Thankfully, he was able to find a way forward after feeling hurt and rejected. He took on a whole new career path, and was able to also financially recover.  

After a while, we found our own lovely drama-free cadence again in our new state, our new town. Many days we would go to one of our favorite ocean-side lunch spots and look out at the ocean while sipping ice tea and eating crab cakes (although, now we’re vegan so we can’t eat crab cakes). 

Buddha 4 months taking over the house.

Buddha (our Tibetan Terrier puppy) entered our life this summer with boundless energy. We were already emotionally and physically spent. He’s darling but demanding. The first two months with Buddha we were sleep deprived parents. But he’s brought new things to talk and laugh about. We go to the doggy park everyday and watch Buddha run free, wrestle, and dig in the dirt. That brings us a lot of joy. 

Before and after doggy park 

We’ve stepped out of our story, processed some of the hurt and anger and got back into the present moment. 

Trying to fine our way in Paradise. 

New opportunities are happening. We are meeting interesting people we could see being life long friends. We’ve been to a dozen churches. However, they are too conservative or too liturgical. Not to mention that 90% of the church median age is 85 years old (I don't want to be making friends and going to funerals.) We were spoiled with Willow Creek. I don’t think there is anything like Willow around here, so we’ll just have to be spiritually self-fed for now. We’ve also found a lovely meditation group on Saturdays. It’s nice to talk about global healing and inner peace and mindful-living.

We are going to be moving out of this big house and into a condo in January. We’ll be five minutes from the things we love: doggy park, ocean, and restaurants, and theater.  

How does it get any better? 

Even though our first year in Florida was painfully difficult, deep down we’re happy to be here. It still surprises us that we made such an incredible lifestyle change. At least every other day we smile and say out loud to each other, “We live in Florida!”

1 shell for every time we see the ocean together since moving to FL.  

See all those shells? For fun, I collect a seashell for every time we came to the beach together as a couple. The ocean has a unique hold on each of our spirits. It’s calming and awe inspiring. The horizon reminds me that all is well; God brings all things back into balance when we are ready. Collecting these shells is a way to remember all tangible and (hopefully) timeless moments we’ve had with each other. Lord willing, there will be many more seashells ahead. 

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HOLY COW

 I’ve wanted to do something for a long time. I’m not looking for permission. I am looking for support. To do what I want to do will take more then will power and determination. 

No, I’m not going to write a book (just yet) or jump out of a plane, run a marathon, or even declare that I will lose 40lbs over the next year. What I want to do is bigger than my ever-expanding hips. 

I want to become a Vegan--not a store-bought fake-meat vegan; not the kind that can eat Oreos because they are vegan (good to know in a pinch!). I want to be a Plant Based Vegan. That means it will take overcoming conscious and subconscious conditioned cultural values, customs, and traditions. 

For most people, food is an addiction. “Hi, my name is Kim. And I eat too much of the wrong kinds of food for me!” 

It’s counter cultural to be vegan. Have you ever tried it? It's hard!  If the whole world were vegan, then it would be easy. It's also not for everyone.

I’ve had some starts and stops on the way to veganism: a few days here, a few weeks there. I’ve got a dozen vegan cookbooks. I’ve watched the vegan animal documentaries. I follow all the best vegan Facebook pages. I’ve had a secret Vegan Pinterest board for three years. I’ve found the two best vegan restaurants in West Palm Beach (maybe in all of Florida). They are SOOOO good; it almost makes me want to move there. And last but not least, I have Rich’s support.

Rich likes eating vegan too. I KNOW, shocker, huh???? My meat and potatoes guy, who never ate veggies until we got married, has made some damn good vegan dishes. We both feel so much better and have a ton of energy when we do eat vegan. My digestion is always like, “Thank you, thank you, thank you!” Deep down, I think my body is really craving healing and repair, not a cheeseburger.

I’ve always marveled at anyone who was able to sustain a vegan or vegetarian lifestyle for years or decades. Paul McCartney once said, "If slaughterhouses had glass walls everyone would be vegetarian." I used to think they had something unique or special that I didn’t have. Maybe they have the true, ‘Just say NO’ gene? I do find occasionally I can eat vegan. Then there is an epic brunch we’re invited to, or Kevin comes home for a visit and wants a sushi dinner, and I cave. I don’t say anything because I haven’t figured out how to manage the social norm, the unsolicited rolling of the eyes, or the protein push back.

When I go home to Chicago, I want a Portillos Italian beef and Lou Malnati’s sausage, mushroom and onion pizza with my brother. If I’m in Arizona, I want steak, beer-brats, or chili made by my dad. These are all food attachments because of the memories stored in the limbic system of my brain. They have a strong and profound affect on the release of dopamine and serotonin (happy chemicals). And much like a recovering drug addict going back to their old stomping grounds, or an alcoholic going back to the bar they once frequent, we all default back to what’s easy and what makes us socially acceptable.

However, I can’t stop seeing family or friends. And I can’t stop eating. And I can’t deny that devouring a juicy beer-brat or eating a slice of Lou’s pizza is my version of meat epicurean’s heaven.  And, frankly, I’m not sure how I’ll live without Brie cheese and liver mousse pate? That would have been my last dying meal.

So what’s a recovering carnivore to do? I don’t know? I’m working on that. I think by putting it out there, I’m asking for others who know me to not make it more difficult. And if you are on that path too, speak up and let’s support each other.

There are unwavering Vegans who can be over the top, much like a street corner Christian Evangelist. Seriously, I think they do it from good intentions. Their effort to be vocal also comes from a place of conviction. I’ve learned there is so much shocking data the average American or Earthling doesn’t know—the dangerous crisis to sustain our food source or our fragile environment; or the benefits for our long term health. If you want to know, ask. We could even have a thought provoking conversation about it. 

  

There's witty carnivores who shame too. I see the anti-vegan memes all the time. Which tend to keep me underground and emotionally defenseless; I mean, how can you argue with someone who has a lifetime love for bacon but not pigs? 

Really, I don’t want to be a Vegan Zealot. I also don’t want to be shamed or experience guilt by my carnivore friends and family. And I doubt we'd have good odds in Vegas after trying to lose weight for the 100th time in 30 years. For those of you who will want to mock us to our face or behind our backs, (you know who you are), don't knock it until you try it. They're a lot of subconscious reasons for why people give in to diets or health programs (most of them have to do with self-esteem and fears of disappointing people in their respective tribe). So be curious. Be happy. And if you can’t do that, I dare say, mind your own business and pass me the salad. ;-) 

This is what it looks like when people around you are genuinely supportive:

“Hey, how’s it going on your pursuit to eat healthy and eat humane?”

“Let’s go to this restaurant because you can at least eat Vegetarian.”

“I’d love to try a new vegan dish. Please have us over soon.”
“How can I support you around the holidays or at events?”
(BTW-you don’t have to cook for us. We will bring our own stuff to remove any burden.)”

I’m not sure if I’m capable of always being Vegan? If I could be 80% more humane and healthy with my food choices, at this point, I’d feel more spiritually and eco responsible. Of course, a crisis can tip the strongest Vegan or Paleo or No-Carb person off their plan.  The more I meditate and pray, or watch the latest documentaries, and read books, the more I'll feel grounded and confident. 

Some days there are no restaurants with vegan choices. I mean, NONE, NADA! Unless I ask for plain beans or rice. So I’ll eat vegetarian. If I’m served meat as a guest in someone’s house or at my dad’s, I will graciously eat those one or two meals with thanksgiving (much like the American Indians did with their meat feasts). But then speak up for myself about my food preferences. Presently, I’m intuitively Vegan but practically Omnivore. I'm giving myself a year to fully transition. And I'm okay with saying I'm Vegan-ish in some situations outside of my control. 

The why: There is an unspoken place in my spirit that aligns with this choice to eat Plant Based Vegan. I love the practice of Ahimsa as defined: all living beings have the spark of the divine spiritual energy; therefore, to hurt another being is to hurt oneself. There is also the treating your body as a temple as instructed from the bible and many religious texts. When it comes to food, I’ve not been my true self. I’ve been too gluttonous and self-sabotaging with my food choices (including too much sugar and processed foods). I’ve been eating out of fear and eating mindlessly. I’d like to change that.

When Fred died, it leveled me. He was such an incredible sentient being. The unconditional love he offered was more than I deserved. I swear he could look deep into my soul. I felt it. I’m grateful for the time we got to spend with our Guardian of Being. I want to be as kind to other creatures as Fred was towards me. The cow or pig or lamb has as much value as Fred.

The ask: Encourage me to do what’s right ‘for me’, and honor me with your support. I shall do the same for you.

A Picture Is Worth 1000 Words

They say a picture is worth a thousand words. I could have written a 1000 words on each photo.
This was a fun Facebook Marriage Photo Challenge. Rich and I took turns writing for the 7-days, alternating it on our FB page. I decided to save it for posterity.


DAY 1-By Kim: We have been challenged to post marriage pictures from Steve McNitt on Facebook for 7 days. This is 'our' official Day 1 from Aug 7th 1988. This is my favorite picture of Rich looking at me from our wedding. He's always had the kindest eyes. He always looks at me with love and respect. I've always felt heard and understood. I've been blessed since the moment I said 'I DO!!' <3 span="">
We also nominate Jessie and Joe Barton. 

DAY 2- By Rich: This is our honeymoon. I will never get over how gracious (and crazy) it was for Kim to take on 3 more children, plus the 1 she already had, the day she said "I do". We were lucky because each of us genuinely loved all the kids and saw them as our own. 

Day 3-By Kim: With the election season happening, this is a fitting picture. This is one of our favorite days in our 28 years of marriage. October 2010, We spontaneously drove to Washington D.C. to experience Jon Stewarts and Stephen Colbert's Rally To Restore Sanity. (Team Sanity or Team Fear). I was so upset because I hardly recognized my country anymore and felt compelled to go. "Silent Minority, you've been summoned!" Well, 200,000+ Americans also felt compelled and showed up on the National Mall. We got to meet a super cool pastor, Mark Allert, and had a BLAST through laughter, music, and fellowship. (I made a video of it in my FB videos.) This was the anti-political Woodstock. The energy was electric and peaceful. After the day was over, Rich surprised me and took me to see my favorite play HAIR at the Kennedy Center. In all our years together, Rich and I have tracked every political season and enjoyed thousands of political conversations. Our politics have evolved over the years (thanks to thoughtful, open-minded Christians like Steve McNitt). Mostly, I want to remain on Team Sanity with you, Rich Brandt. <3 nbsp="" span="">We also nominate Tamara and Adam Gold. 

Day 4-By Rich:  Kim and I have had hundreds of getaways and vacations, but England was by far our favorite. We loved everything about it (especially scones & clotted cream). Here we are at Shakespeare's birthplace. And from me to you sweetheart: "I would not wish any companion in the world but you" (The Tempest). And I nominate John & MG Tindall to post pictures of their marriage for 7 days.

Day 5-By Kim: One thing I've always loved and appreciated is how Rich 'gets me'. I've had a bucket list (before there was a Bucket List movie). Over the years, he's surprised me to go see or experience or check off something on my Bucket List. This photo was when he drove me to Iowa to go see Michael Buble' in concert. We've always been great road trippers and enjoy doing life together. <3 nbsp="" span="">I nominate Jean & Mark Des Biens to share 7 Days, some of your favorite couple's moments. 

Day 6-By Rich:  Here we are enjoying downtown Chicago--thousands of awesome memories from our beloved hometown. We will always be forever Chicagoans. I nominate Michele & Dick Lemberger to do the 7 Day marriage photo challenge.

Day 7-By Kim: Moving to FL has been another grand adventure (probably our biggest). I like this picture because I'm putting on my brave face. Rich is always smiling. I'm glad we moved here now, while we were younger, instead of 75 and retired. We've been here 10 months. We've had many unexpected challenges that were bigger then us, and we lost Fred suddenly. It's been difficult to be away from people who've 'known us and get us'. Florida can feel like you're on a different planet. At times, it's been painfully lonely, even boring without girlfriends and our couple-friends. I underestimated how long it takes to build new lifelong relationships. But we have each other. We go down to the beach and it feels like home. We walk the ocean shore and the impact of change washes off for the moment. The level horizon reminds me how God is always present. I look out to the ocean and imagine we have a big life ahead us (Lord willing). Life in FL is good; we still feel like we are on vacation. And every day we say, "We live in FLORIDA! We know it won't always be this way; soon we'll have community and refrigerator friendships. Buddha will replace Fred on the couch and someday snuggle (now he wants to bite everything). In the meantime, we'll continue to laugh and love and have deep conversations about existence on this big blue ball in the Universe. There is nobody in the world I'd rather do life with and go on grand adventures with than Rich Brandt. ✌🏼️😎

🌴☀️🌊💖 

BEING Buddha

This is my 6th year Blogaversary. Once a month for the past 6 years, I've journaled a blog that was topical to what's going on in my life (that includes world or local events, soapbox issues, flaws, victories, things I've learned or overcame, life with my hubby, family, friends, neighbors, hopes and dreams, fears and faith, pet peeves, and pets). For my 6th Blogaversary, I'm happy to share something wonderful going on in our lives. We have welcomed a new furry-child into our lives: Buddha.

My name is Buddha Brandt. I’m a Tibetan terrier.  
I was born in Florida.  I’ve only been on this earth for 10-weeks. I’ve been living with Kim (mom) and Rich (dad) for 2-1/2 weeks. 

They told me they named me Buddha because my breed comes from Tibet. And while they follow Christ, they also appreciate Buddha’s wisdom of letting go of thoughts that create suffering (like our tendency to ruminate on the past) and instead to live in the present moment. I’m a reminder of that wisdom. And it’s pretty much what I do well. BEING Buddha. 

First thing some people say, “Oh another terrier?” As if that was a bad thing. I’m actually not of the terrier dog breed. Tibetan Terriers (TT’s for short), were given the name by European travelers because we resemble terriers. I personally don’t see it. The Tibetan name for the breed is Tsang Apso, loosely translated, ‘shaggy or bearded dog.  I think we look like miniature sheep dogs. Our breed dates back thousands of years when TT’s were kept as good luck charms, mascots, watchdogs, herding dogs and companions. We were also considered the Holy Dogs of Tibet. TT’s were never to be sold. Instead, they were given as gifts by monks to promote good fortune. So Kim and Rich are lucky to have me.  

I'm small now, but I'll probably grow to weigh up to 30lbs and be about knee high. I'm told I have beautiful eyes. (presently, they are a hazel color). TT's come in many different colors. I'm a white and gold TT. I have panda feet. They are broad, flat feet with hair between my toes. Which are ideal for mountain climbing. I'm not sure how much mountain climbing I'm going to do in Florida? But I can dig to Tibet with my big paws in the sand or high-five people I meet on the beach. 

I'll probably grow my hair long and put it up in a man bun. I think that looks cool. Don't worry about the hair getting in my eyes; it's what I was bred to look like. I have damn good eyesight. Plus, I have long eyelashes to keep the hair actually out of my eyes. I don't shed but rather slough hair off like human hair. Mom is already got me on the grooming area everyday for 2 minutes to get me used to the brushing. Daily grooming is a TT requirement if I'm going to continue to look selfie-ready. 

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I came home on June 12^th. The car ride was 4-hours. Kim sat in the back with me. She put up a soft crate with a cushy bed and a few soft toys to chew in it. She left the flap open so I could go back and forth between her lap and my crate. We had no issues our whole ride home.  I was curious about everything and wanted to look out the windows. I was calm, but I never settled down or slept for more than 10 minutes. 

 Once we got home I was able to check out where I’ll be doing my ‘business’ if you know what I mean? I walked through the house and check things out. They set up two crates: one in the bedroom, and one in the kitchen/family room. The kitchen crate has an attached X-pen (exercise pen). It was filled with toys. It was like Christmas in June. They sat in there with me to keep me company. I had my first dinner at home with Kim and Rich, then passed-out. I was exhausted from all the excitement that day. Kim and Rich officially are my new mom and dad. I could tell they were trying hard to make me happy and comfortable. I was both.

The soft crate was brought into the bedroom right next to mom’s bed. I wasn’t crazy about having the zipper flap closed, but mom was right there all night. She even slept with her hand and arm in there so she could pet me if I woke up. I did wake up, a few times to go outside.

It’s almost been 3-weeks since I’ve come to live here. Mom and dad are more sleep deprived then they imagined. I pass out around 9pm. But I wake up sometime around 3-4am to go potty. And I’m HUNGRY. I have a yelp that could wake up the neighborhood and the dead. They seem a bit grouchy about my barking. Hey, you and the neighbors will thank me if I ever have to wake up the whole neighborhood for any reason, like a zombie apocalypse.

Mom had me alone for the first 12-days. Dad was traveling for work. We did a lot of hammock time. She loved being with me but was shocked at how tired she was by 10:00am. We napped together on and off throughout the day. When dad came home, he took over. He was also surprised how wide-awake I am in the middle of the night, how piercing my bark is, and tired he was by 10:00am too. I think they are going to become morning people whether they like it or not! 

 I’m doing really well with my potty training. Although they watch me like a hawk. Just when I get distracted by a shadow or cardboard paper roll I’ll think, ‘aw, what the heck, I’ll just go here.” They scoop me up and we fly out the door. I’ve only had a few accidents and they swear it’s their fault. Okay, if you say so! 

I have grown 2x my size in just a few weeks. I have a ravenous appetite too. I’m eating 4x a day, plus snacks if I impress them with come, sit, and gentle (gentle is the positive for no biting).  I’m told I’m smart and a real pussy cat except for the one incident where I may have almost took off mom’s hand because she was removing my bowl that had food in it to teach me how to not be dominant about my food. And I may have turned into an ancient werewolf that snapped and growled so fierce that it required mom to back away and ask for professional help from a trainer. So because of that one time I was trying to let her know ‘Back off bitch, I’m not finished’, I no longer get to eat out of a bowl. For the next 2-3 weeks, maybe a month, I have to eat out of her hand like a lowly peasant. She keeps saying that she forgives me for scaring the shit out of her, and that in the end this will be a positive thing. I’m learning to passively receive, passively sit well, eat slowly, by gently licking her hand after each bite of my food she gives me. I don’t get another bit of food until she says, “Gentle’ and I lick her hand. After some time, she will feed me by dropping food into my dish so my brain rewires and knows that she only gives me food and never takes it away. 

 And while I’m on the subject of biting, puppy biting that is. I just have to say, ‘deal with it.’ I’m a puppy. It’s what I do. You took me away from my rough and tumble litter-mates. You are my new playmates. I didn’t mean to rip most of your clothes or rip your flesh. I’ll just be in a bitey mood for a while longer. The cue, ‘sit’ and ‘gentle’ with a treat is helping me ease up. Mom and dad are so desperate they are going to learn how to say Tibetan prayers that I’ll learn soft mouthing and bite inhibition soon. I do well at this age for about 10-15 minutes of free play. Then I usually end up in my X-Pen if I get too much like a crocodile on crack. 

When I’m out of the pen I love to “zoomie” all over the house.  They tell me I’m lighting fast. And with their eyebrows all crinkled and worried, they say it looks like I’ll be able to bound over furniture like an obstacle course real soon. I like the shoes in the hallway (that I’m not suppose to grab). It’s hilarious when they chase after me. I like any kind of cardboard boxes or rolls, plastic water bottles, and ropes to play tug-o-war. I’m pretty good about keeping myself content in my X-Pen for an hour or two while mom and dad are home. If I get bored, I sleep in the corner of the X-pen and the crate. I’m not sure why I do that, but I do. Mom and Dad have started to finally go out and leave me alone for a few hours. I go into my crate without a fuss. It’s nice and roomy. I usually nap the whole time they are gone or chew on something for kicks and giggles. 

I’ve been hearing a lot about their previous dog, Fred. He sounds like a furry dude I would have liked to hang out with. At least once or twice a day they accidently call me Fred. Which they really need to stop doing because I can hardly remember my name is Buddha at this age. I know he was special dog. When they talk about him I can feel their hearts (they don’t know I can feel their hearts, but I can.) They still have an ache for Fred. That actually makes me happy because they loved him so much. Which means, I’ll be loved so much too. That makes me feel peaceful and safe. And long after I’m gone, they will have an ache in their hearts for me too. But for now, I’m going to be their Guardian of BEING. I’ll teach them how to live in the present moment and enjoy life right now. And anyone else that wants to learn how to live in the present moment (which is the only moment we have, you can follow me on Facebook at BEING Buddha. I'm going to share what BEING is all about. I'll make lot of new friends and go on adventures. This life is pretty spectacular. Mom reminds me of that all the time when she's cuddling me. 

 https://www.facebook.com/BEING-Buddha-226244617743889/