day one (recipe: apple-pear walnut crisp)

First day of the new year!

This morning, I slept in all the way until 7 am, then made a cup of hot coffee and waded into the morass of emails, Facebook updates, and the 174 posts stored up in Google Reader after a neglectful week. Two hours later, I unsubscribed from at least half of the blogs in my Reader and set Leechblock limits on Facebook. It's time to buckle down.

Do you have the same feeling? And are you the sort of person who needs everything to be just-so in your environment before you can do something like that? I am. So I've spent the morning deep-cleaning and purging my house. These are semi-ritualistic processes by which I prepare for change. I am not a person who holds on to things. I am a person who finds it difficult to hold on to things. This makes Jeremy crazy. He has minor pack-rat tendencies and hides things jealously that he suspects I'll throw away.

At times in my life when I need a big change, this knowledge is precipitated by the feeling of being physically oppressed by the stuff I own. My strongest wish is to pare down to absolute essentials, and I used to go through this process with some frequency before I had kids. Now I see how unsettling it is for them to strip down so severely, so I've relented and allowed our home to fill with things I'd otherwise dismiss. It's a constant struggle to balance their need for environmental stability with my need to purge.

Two more things I did today, the first day of the new year: I weighed myself, and I went for a walk. I weighed myself and then I put away the scale without any intention of bringing it out again this year. I was alarmed at the number on the scale. It's been an indulgent holiday season, fer sure. But I'm ready to move on into more holistic, less self-destructive measurements of health.

So I went for a walk. It was so cold this morning, there was frost and a light dusting of snow on the peaks of the mountains around our valley. We don't get any snow here, in our bright green Northern California enclave, which is just fine by me -- but some mornings it is still brutally cold. I hooked up my iPod and listened to the first half of the Ænima album. My hands froze into bright red claws and my lungs ached with the frigid air, but everything sparkled and I couldn't help but feel inspired and pregnant with the opportunities ahead.

Which I know is ridiculous. Really, is there any more pathetic a practice than making predictable resolutions we only have half an intention to fulfill? My wisest friends have sworn off the practice, claiming every day, every minute as a chance to turn things around. Still, I love the first day of the year, when our thoughts turn to the past and the future in equal measure.

Jeremy picked up running last year and I was in awe of how well he took to it. I thought to try it for myself, as a free, self-sufficient alternative to the gym -- but I was plagued by doubts. I can't afford running shoes. I'll look ridiculous. I have asthma. What about injuries? Excuse after excuse after excuse. See? Paralyzed by uncertainty. When I finally went for it, I completely overdid it, disregarding my limits. So I did a bunch of research, trying to devise the most effortless, effective way to run. I ran through several running books and articles and videos without ever stepping outside. I was so afraid to do it wrong. See? Paralyzed by the ideal.

It's funny, because I generally think of myself as a "simple living" type of person, but my thought processes are so incredibly complicated, cluttered, overwhelming, and unabashedly consumptive as to nullify all outward efforts at simplifying. I think the compulsion to purge my physical environment is, to some extent, an effort at inner cleansing as well -- and it works, to a certain extent. But I am still uncomfortably aware of how chaotic my mind is, and how constantly disrupted I feel as a result.

So this morning I just went for it. I weighed myself, took a deep breath, and then went out to the kitchen and ate a cookie. Why the hell not? Then I tied on my shoes, which are all wrong, and went walking in the clothes I'd slept in, which probably breaks every rule of exercise etiquette. I paid attention to my posture and the roll of my hips, but more than that, I let myself be carried away by the sights of my neighborhood: green hills dense with trees, dusted with frost, dormant blackberry vines coiling every which way, lackluster holiday decorations, an older lady kissing her man with real passion while a dog waits in the car.

I didn't bother running. I just walked and breathed. I breathed through frozen lungs, coaching myself out of an asthma attack. And I came home feeling cleansed, inside and out.

Here's a recipe worthy of a new year. It's a treat. It has sugar in it. And also walnuts and oats and whole fruits procured from local farms, and butter from cows who eat grass, not corn. It's a quintessential winter dish and we ought to enjoy such things, with or without abandon.

Apple-Pear Walnut Crisp
4 apples, preferably a tart-sweet variety, cored and cubed
3 pears, any sort, cored and cubed
2 T. maple syrup
juice of 1/2 lemon
1 t. cornstarch
1/2 t. cinnamon


topping:
1 c. rolled oats*
1 c. walnuts
1/4 c. unrefined brown sugar (Rapadura)
1/2 t. cinnamon
1/4 t. ground ginger
1/4 t. nutmeg
pinch of salt
1/2 c. pastured butter, softened

Preheat the oven to 375F.

Toss the apples and pears with the syrup, lemon juice, starch, and cinnamon. Arrange in the bottom of a greased square baking pan.

Combine the oats and walnuts in a food processor and pulse until the nuts are mostly broken down, but not powdery. Transfer to a bowl and stir in the sugar, spices, and salt. Chop up the butter into small cubes and cut it into the dry ingredients until evenly distributed and crumbly.

Spread the topping over the fruit. Bake for about 30 minutes. Serve warm, topped with vanilla ice cream or yogurt.

Enjoy! (And Happy New Year.)