Little Rectangles of Hope

Every so often, someone utters a word or phrase that resonates with me, frequently in a manner it was not intended when said.  This was the case last week at yoga, when the instructor referred to the yoga block as a little rectangle of hope.  For the not yet members of the yoga tribe among these readers, the yoga block is usually used to facilitate the practitioner moving into a pose that might not otherwise be available to them.  If you can't reach the floor when going into a twist, for example, you move the yoga block close to your hand so you can hold on with the intention--hope--that at some point, practicing yoga will allow your muscles to become strong enough that you can reach the floor.

I love this concept.  All around us, there are little rectangles of hope we can grasp.  You don't need to ask permission to hang on.  Some days you need that little rectangle, others not so much.  The rectangles of hope can be manipulated by you into any position, any height and all you have to do is reach out and grab it.  You can feel confident that it will support you or steady you or even encourage you to take matters a step further than you might without the little rectangle.

That they are 'little' holds particular import for me.  I think that sometimes we overwhelm ourselves from looking for help because we don't feel worthy or that our need isn't significant enough.  We forget what the Chinese philosopher, Lao Tzu said: A journey of a thousand miles starts with a single step.  Or a little rectangle of hope.

Both the yearly and liturgical calendar have moved in December, the season of Advent and Hanukkah.  I'm noticing an increasing number of cars driving through the snow (like Arizona's 'but it's a dry cold', Minnesota is currently enjoying 'but it's a pretty snow') with Christmas trees strapped to the roof.  Advent and Hanukkah are times of rededication, with the Christian tradition focusing on the birth of the baby Jesus.  Santa seems to straddle religious boundaries.  It's also common this month to find multiple articles published about stress.  Enough said.

Maybe you can think about a little rectangle of hope that will accompany you through this season.  They're everywhere, if you give yourself permission to seek them out and then, at whichever height you need, just hang on.  Steady yourself.  Get your balance.  And breathe.

Cooking:

My mother in law used to make fudge, and for a few years doing so was part of my holiday cooking, and then I stopped.  I was actually thinking about making fudge this year when I came across this recipe for boozy fudge and decided, oh, why not?

Boozy Fudge

3 1/2 c. melted milk chocolate chips

1 c sweetened condensed milk

1 tsp vanilla

1/4 (or more) c whiskey or Bailey's or whatever liquor you think would be good

1/2 c nuts (more to taste), optional

1. Line an 8x8 pan with tin foil.

2. Add the sweetened condensed milk. vanilla and liquor to the melted chocolate chips.  Mix thoroughly

3. Pour into prepared pan.  Cover with tin foil.  Let sit for 4 hours before cutting.  Easier to slice if you put the pan into the refrigerator for an hour before cutting.

4.  Store in airtight container until it is all gone.